Unjust Peace

A/N This chapter was beta-ed by Serpent-in-Red behind Nerys' back, as this chapter is a gift to Nerys who beta-ed the last chapter of Colors.

Now Serp (not me, the other one), knows how it feels to beta Serpie's chapters…chop-chop…mad cackling…coughs…

I would like to apologize to Lord Voldemort for what will happen in this chapter before I am tortured to death (Serp agrees happily, as she beta-ed it. And Nerys, who wanted it)….We are all innocent, my Lord! Blink, blink..

We'll see how many chapters I'll be able to upload since this formatting is already driving me crazy. And I have shitload of italic and bold in the next chapters...Sigh


Chapter 5
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"Four windows: Two open, two reflecting," Hermione repeated for the twentieth time while pacing her cell.

Four windows, did he mean the Founders and the four Hogwarts Houses? Then what could "two are open and two reflecting" mean? If two are reflecting, then it meant that they were not open.

All four could be removed? No, definitely not the Founders and the Houses.

"Two have been cleaned from inside, two from outside. All four were removed and put back in random order. Nothing changed." What the hell? No, really. Now, Hermione was sure Voldemort was completely touched in the head. However, she had to give it to him that no matter how crazy the Dark Lord was, he had a brilliant mind. So did she, Hermione thought with even more determination to solve the puzzle.

"Two with three colors, two are not black and not white. All four are connected but not quite." What was he talking about?

Hermione tried to solve the puzzle for the last eight hours. She could not fall asleep even if she tried, since the riddle would pop up in her hyperactive mind.

Damn you, Voldemort. Damn you to hell! Hermione Granger could not solve the puzzle and she was running out of time.

In her frustration, her eyes roamed around the cell, almost as if she were trying to find some clues from her surroundings. However, the gloomy atmosphere and the less-than-desirable surroundings only made her nostalgic—she missed those days when she was back at Hogwarts.

She remembered how she and her dear friends did their homework in the cozy common room in the top tower that belonged to the Gryffindor House. She could clearly see and even feel the peaceful and cheerful atmosphere while Harry, Ron and she sat behind a small round table doing their homework. Or, to be honest, it was Hermione doing all the work, and the boys were either just trying to copy it or joking around while doing nothing.

As Hermione sat on her now comfortable bed, she smiled a peaceful smile that was filled with pain as she remembered one particular evening long before the Final battle and the deaths of her dear friends.

Hermione was writing her essay for the next Potions class, and she was concentrating hard as Professor Snape demanded a long and detailed review of one of their recent potions—potions that both Harry and Ron failed to make properly and received a zero.

"That dungeon bat has gone completely mental," Ron whined as he tried to write at least something on his parchment.

"Maybe he inhaled too many fumes," Harry added laughingly.

With a disapproving stare, Hermione turned to her best friends and started her standard speech on how they should work harder and study more. And show respect towards a Hogwarts Professor.

"You know that it was Malfoy who sabotaged our potion, Hermione. We did everything correctly," Harry argued back and before Hermione could respond, Ron interrupted.

"Maybe we should just turn Malfoy into a ferret? I like him like that better. And Snape can fly"—at that Ron put his wrists near his shoulders, as if imitating wings, and wiggled them rapidly—" after the ferret".

Even Hermione could not hold back the laughter that escaped her at that show. With eyes filled with tear of laughter, Hermione looked at her other friend, Harry, who was laughing hysterically, his bright green eyes full of mirth only partially hidden behind his glasses that reflected the flames roaming in the fireplace at the center of the common room.

Cold shivers ran through Hermione's body, piercing her heart like a lightning.

"No, no, no," she whispered frantically, hoping that she was wrong.

Voldemort's cold voice ran through her ears, repeating the puzzle.

"Four windows: Two open, two reflecting." Eyes are believed to be the windows of one's soul.

Two windows open—two eyes.

Two reflecting—glasses.

"All four can be removed. Two as usual, two not."

All four can be removed. Hermione felt sick at the thought.

Two as usual—just take off the glasses.

Two not—Hermione felt like vomiting right away, but continued despite the disgust and horror that plagued her mind as her brain continued solving the puzzle on its own. Eyes can be removed as well, just not like glasses; they had to be removed forcefully.

"Two have been cleaned from inside, two from outside."

Two have been cleaned from inside—Hermione had no doubt it was not the glasses Voldemort was talking about, but real eyes.

Two from outside—the glasses.

"All four were removed and put back in random order. Nothing changed."

Hermione could not hold the vomit anymore and ran to the basket where she emptied all her stomach contents. She would not think of that line. NO.

"Two with three colors, two are not black and not white. All four are connected but not quite."

Two with three colors—Harry had green irises, black pupils and white eyeballs.

Two are not black and not white—Harry's glasses. They were transparent.

All four are connected but not quite—Harry wore his glasses to improve his vision. But he could always take them off.

And the answers. Hermione leaned on the bucket, and sobbing, she put it all together—Harry was dead, so Voldemort gave her a "No" to her question if it was a living thing.

Harry, or his body—at that thought, Hermione vomited again—was in the manor. She knew that from that bitch Bellatrix, even before Ron was killed.

And her last question plus the glint she had seen in Voldemort's eyes at his answer—she HAD seen it; she had seen the eyes, the glasses; she had seen her best friend. Hermione closed her eyes as tears leaked like waterfalls. Her heart was pull of pain and anger. That bastard gave her a riddle which had only one correct answer. An answer she would never provide him with. Never will she do that.

The answer was "Harry Potter."

A roar of anger and hate filled her cell as Hermione comprehended that Voldemort had done it on purpose; he was hitting the most painful places in her soul. That monster was trying to destroy her.

Her eyes flashed and she tried to find the perfect weapon to murder that half-blooded bastard. A vicious grin appeared on her face as her attention was caught by the bucket that was posing as a toilet. She immediately pulled off her pants and pushed as hard as she could. She tried really, really hard. Considering the little amount of food she got, her poop was too soft and smelly. So she pushed even harder, wanting to get in as much as possible, and she knew she only had a limited amount of time before that son of a bitch walked through that dungeon door. With a satisfied smile, she felt the last of what she got join the rest of its former "neighbors."

Time for a nice, little shower, my Lord.

Xxxxx

As soon as he heard the roar, Lord Voldemort chuckled merrily, thinking of what a wonderful choice he had made when he picked his new toy. Even he, Lord Voldemort, had to admit it was a pretty difficult one, but she managed. Now, he had to see just how feisty his new toy would be.

He had already had her rooms prepared, as he guessed that he would not get the straight answer. Gryffindors and their moronic ideals, he thought while quietly and calmly walking towards the door.

The Dark Lord was already nearby, as it was time to visit his dear guest and see what she would do. If he was correct, she would not give him the answer, even though she did solve the puzzle.

Good Mudblood, he thought while opening the door.

Xxxxx

Bad, disobedient Mudblood, Lord Voldemort thought angrily, while using the cleaning charm to get rid of the contents of the bucket that met him straight in the face when he opened the damn door.

Hermione looked viciously happy when she heard quiet footsteps behind the door, already knowing who would bang the door open within a second. Grabbing the bucket that contained her vomit, piss and shit, Hermione threw forward the contents of the said bucket as the door opened with the expected bang.

Looking at Lord Voldemort, the ruler of the world, covered in shit, vomit and other disgusting things, Hermione laughed like a mad woman, imagining Ron and Harry joining her wherever their souls were. Even if she were to die because of that, it was still worth it.

Xxxx

The pain was awful; Voldemort's Cruciatus was much more powerful than Bellatrix's, Hermione thought while trying not to scream. The curse was lifted and Hermione was left lying on the floor.

"We are sooo smart and funny, aren't we, Mudblood?" Voldemort asked while making circles around Hermione's still shivering form.

"So, will I get the answer to my puzzle from you, or would you prefer to move closer to me?"

Hermione pursed her lips and only her angry eyes filled with hatred and a memory of Harry Potter looked straight at Voldemort's hovering form.

"Correct answer, but only if you say it out loud," the Dark Lord mocked her with an innocent, sweet tone of voice. "Are we going to say it out loud, Hermione?"

Gods, she hated that monster; she hated him so much that she would do anything just to stay away from his beautiful but, at the same time, disgusting form. Anything, but that. No way in hell would she tell him that "IT" was her dear Harry, who died trying to protect their world.

"All right then. It is time to move, sweetheart," Voldemort sang while moving his hands around as if showing her that this was the last time she would see that cell.

"You can carry the bucket," Hermione hissed at him from her position on the floor, "since you are already familiar with it. Closely."

What a bitch, Voldemort thought, amused. He wanted to be angry, pissed off, but only amusement and twisted glee invaded his mind. She was a worthy challenge, and he really needed something to improve his mental state. Better be amused than bored, he decided.

"Your moving will be done by the servants, darling. It will happen right after I walk out of that door. However, since you did get the answer right, even though you stubbornly refused to vocalize it, then I will give you a chance as I promised. You can give me a riddle and I will solve it. Think of what you want in case I do not get the answer correct," at that, Voldemort sneered, "and think carefully of what I may request back if I do get it right".

"And trust me, Hermione, I will get it right, as I have no moronic ideal like you do," he added before leaving the cell with door wide open.

Xxxx

Hermione had to admit that the room was kind of nice. It had a fireplace, a couch with a small round table before it, and a nice king-sized bed. The only minus, a huge one, was that her room was right next to his. The only good thing was that she had her own bathroom now with a huge bath, a shower, and finally, a normal toilet. She was already too used to crouching down and supporting her weight on her legs in order to relieve her needs that Hermione doubted she would get used to the usual toilet seat quickly.

Sitting on the soft bed, Hermione touched the fine material that covered the said bed. It was red, which she thought was odd, but maybe Voldemort liked red?

"Closet Gryffindor", she sniggered quietly, trying to think of a good puzzle to make Voldemort go insane.

Still touching the soft material of the red cover, she was struck with an idea.

Oh, yes. He will pay for the last riddle. I will make sure of that, Hermione thought with glee as the puzzle formed in her head.

Xxxx

Lord Voldemort came later in the evening, dressed in black pants and red shirt.

It suited his eyes, Hermione thought before smacking herself mentally for even thinking that. No matter how handsome he might be, he was a freak.

"Evening, my darling," a cool voice greeted Hermione as its owner moved to sit on the couch.

Lately, he started using all kinds of endearment when addressing Hermione. Both he and she knew it was just to annoy her.

"Evening," Hermione replied with a glint in her eyes that reminded Voldemort of himself.

"I gather you like the room?"

"It's perfect. Please give my congratulations to the decorator; he must be such a Gryffindor lover."

Bitch, he thought. She already must have guessed that he was the one who decided what colors were allowed and what were not.

"Your puzzle, Voldemort. Are you ready?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"What are your requests?" Voldemort replied while raising a perfect eyebrow.

"If you don't get it right, you will let Harry to be buried as a wizard, with a gravestone and a normal grave," before Voldemort could interrupt, Hermione added, " in Godric's Hollow near his parents".

"My, my … Aren't we aiming high? And what do I get in return if I do get it right? Will we go and gloat at the dead Potter for several hours while having tea with lemon drops?"

The Dark Lord was actually quite disturbed. His second favorite toy—Potter's body—was at risk. So, that meant he had to get something very good for that.

"Or, we will have passionate sex on the table, me taking you any way I want to?" For some reason, he wanted to have her. Forget about blood purity. He was a half-blood himself, but he wanted to fuck her, and not only her brains.

Hermione was speechless. Either Harry would be granted a final rest with respect, or she would be fucked by Voldemort.

She or Harry; that was her option now.

"You can fuck me any way you want to, only once, if you get the right answer. If you don't, then Harry would be given a funeral with respect and I will attend." She had made her decision. Harry deserved it after all he had done. She could survive one Dark Lord—he could take her anyway, so she was losing nothing.

"Deal," the Dark Lord smirked with glee. He would take the Mudblood willingly and not by force. How sweet, Potter's Mudblood under him. His amusement lasted until Hermione stood and came closer to him.

"I will tell you the riddle only once. There is only one correct answer. You can ask me three questions, same rules as before".

What a bossy little thing, Voldemort thought, still amused. It vanished though, as Hermione gave him the riddle.

"She is red, he is close but not the same".

"Another day is not today, the red used to say"

"They fought, others fought and one side won".

"What happened to them?"

Voldemort looked more than pensive for a moment, and then he turned his calculating gaze towards Hermione. Her mind was blank; he saw straight away that she would not give him a clue.

"Are they alive?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before replying, "No, but they live forever."

Voldemort was even more baffled now. What the hell?

"Was I born when this happened?"

Hermione smiled and simply nodded her head.

"Have I heard about it?"

Now that is a difficult question, Hermione thought. He may have, but at the same time, it was only a guess.

"I don't know for sure".

Dammit, he asked all the wrong questions.

"Since you obviously asked the questions I could not know the answer to, you may ask one more." She was a Gryffindor after all. Plus, she was sure he would not get the right answer. If he did, he would struggle with voicing it out loud as she had, no matter what he had stated before. It was so Muggle that Voldemort would have to admit that he was into Muggle "things" and it would be too hilarious if he had to say it out loud to Hermione. She would have her revenge.

Voldemort took a calming breath and asked the last question while moving towards the door. There he stopped and looked at Hermione.

"How many words are there in the correct answer? In total."

Hermione smiled a sweet smile and whispered a word.

"Four."

With an irritated glare shot in her way, he swirled out of the cell. The door slammed shut, and a smiling Hermione thought how happy and proud all her friends would be of her. Voldemort would never get it right.

Take that, she thought and jumped on the bed with scarlet coverings.

A/N 2 : Nerys almost made me piss my pants with her answers to the new riddle. Please, people, do not think that the correct asnwer is " The Berlin Wall collapsed" or "They Turned to Muggles". LOLz...It's much more...awsome! Poor Voldie...sobs and runs away.