Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 51 ~ Playing It By Ear

Peter Pettigrew stood before Voldemort’s throne looking up at his Lord. He had been sleeping when the Mark began to burn horribly. He had a bruise on his forehead from falling face first to the floor.

Snape looked down at Peter.

“The Primordial fed me an influx of magic that caused an spike in my power. Your mark and the mark of every deatheater was activated as a result. The change in color reflects my increase in strength,” Snape said, trying to look majestic.

Peter absorbed this information. It made sense.

“I see, my Lord,” he replied.

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Hermione looked from Snape to Peter and back again. Finally the squat little deatheater said, “It is time for your feeding, my Lord.”

Snape blanched. Voldemort’s elixir would kill him. He thought quick. He waved a dismissive hand at the little man.

“My feedings will no longer be necessary, Peter. The magic I’ve received from the Primordial has increased my strength to the point I will no longer require the elixir,” he said.

Peter’s mouth dropped open.

“This is excellent news, my Lord!” Peter said. He was glad. Milking Nagini for venom was always a dangerous chore. The snake didn’t like him. The feeling was mutual.

“Yes it is, Wormtail,” Snape responded, warming to his role. “Now you may go. I wish to speak to the Primordial alone.” He waved his hand dramatically towards the door.

The deatheater bowed.

“Yes, my Lord. Thank you my Lord,” Peter said, leaving.

“Oh, and Peter?” Snape said.

The little man stopped.

“Yes, my Lord?” Peter asked.

“Nagini. Turn her into a pair of snakeskin boots in a size eleven,” Snape said. He always hated that snake. But he rather liked snakeskin boots.

Peter smiled broadly.

“Yes, my Lord,” he replied, scampering off to do the deed. As soon as he disappeared through the door, Hermione turned to him.

“Snakeskin boots?” she asked, frowning at him. Snape smiled at her with the Dark Lord’s pointed teeth. She shuddered.

Snape looked her up and down. His scaly eyebrows rose slightly.

“Did you transform everything?” he asked, his red eyes glittering.

“The only snake in your pants is your original one,” she spat at him. How inappropriate for him to bring up his cock at a time like this.

“Pity,” he said, looking down at his robes. Hermione scowled at him.

“Enough about that. What the hell are we going to do? There are six thousand leaderless deatheaters out there, and the Order is still after me and Voldemort,” Hermione said.

“Well, since Voldemort is dead, and you were the method of his demise, Dumbledore won’t have a viable reason to kill you, at least not an acceptable one for the wizarding world. Technically, if the knowledge gets out, you are a hero. However, Dumbledore has to cover up his attempt on your family and there is also the problem of you being the strongest witch on earth and not under his influence.”

“Ok, I need to let the Order know Voldemort is dead and I killed him. Then I have to find a way to get Dumbledore out of power. I don’t know how I am going to do that.”

Snape was about to reply when suddenly, Lucius Malfoy appeared, and he had someone with him. The person had a hood over his head.

“What now?” Snape thought.

Lucius walked forward, dragging the person with him.

“My Lord, I have a gift for you,” Lucius said, bowing low, a broad smile on his face. “I believe you will be very pleased.”

He ripped the hood off.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped, “What are you doing here!”

Snape was stunned. Gods, the Potter boy. More than likely come to save Hermione. The young wizard had as much sense as a fucking flubberworm. He was lucky the Dark Lord was dead.

“I had to come see you, Hermione. The Order is after you. They want to kill you,” Harry said.

“Harry Potter. What a pleasant surprise,” Snape said in a high-pitched voice.

“Voldemort,” the wizard said, glaring at Snape. Snape’s red eyes cut to Lucius.

“You have done well, Lucius. You have delivered my nemesis. I am most grateful. What boon do you ask in return for this great gift?” Snape asked him.

Lucius bowed.

“Thank you my Lord. I only ask that my wife not be required to be used by my brothers, my Lord. She is delicate, and does not hold up well under their ministrations, my Lord,” the blonde wizard said.

Snape looked at him. He had Narcissa before. She held up pretty well in his opinion. She actually seemed to enjoy being brutalized. Well, Lucius probably just wanted to keep her to himself.

“Granted, Lucius,” he said, flicking his scaly hand at the wizard.

Lucius smile broadly. “Thank you, my Lord. What do you want me to do with this?” he asked, shaking Harry by his collar. Before Snape could reply, Harry elbowed Lucius hard in the side, and snatched his wand out of the wizard’s pocket. Lucius huffed and staggered to the side. Hermione willed him to freeze in place, and the wizard stiffened. Only his ice-blue eyes shifted back and forth.

Harry pointed his wand at Snape. The dark wizard could see murder in the young wizard’s eyes, and readied himself.

“Avada Kedavra!” Harry shouted. Hermione screamed. Snape leaped behind the throne as the curse hit.

“Harry! No!” Hermione screamed as the wizard ran forward.

“I know he helped you, Hermione, but he killed my parents!” Harry yelled running around the throne. Snape jumped down and started running in a zigzag pattern, the scarlet robes billowing.

“Damn it, Miss Granger! Do something!” Snape yelled as he avoided another blast from Harry’s wand. He threw a wandless stunner at Harry, who dodged it, throwing another hex at Snape. Hermione was speechless with horror for a moment. Then she snapped out of it, running after Harry as he pursued Snape around the throne room, firing blast after blast.

“Harry, no! He’s not Voldemort!” she screamed. Harry aimed another blast at the dodging, feinting Snape. He missed again but came close.

“He looks like him to me!” Harry panted. Hermione latched on to his arm, stopping him from throwing another hex. She turned his face to hers.

“No Harry, he’s not Voldemort. Voldemort’s dead,” she said softly. Snape transformed back into himself. Lucius Malfoy’s eyes widened.

Harry stared at the irate Potions Master as he stalked toward him, scowling blackly.

“Professor Snape!” he said flabbergasted as the Potions Master collared him, shaking the stunned wizard until his teeth rattled.

“You almost killed me you idiot!” he snarled. Hermione grabbed at Snape’s hands. He had an iron grip on Harry’s robes, and she pulled at them ineffectually.

“He didn’t know it was you, Professor. He thought you were Voldemort,” she said, still yanking at his hands.

The Professor’s black eyes shifted toward Hermione for a moment. Her amber eyes were pleading. He looked back at Harry, and roughly released him.

“Voldemort…dead? How?” Harry said weakly as Hermione walked the shocked wizard to the base of the throne and helped him sit down.

“He wanted to experience my power, Harry. When I gave him a sample of it, he pulled more and more raw magic from me, trying to absorb it. It was too much and it destroyed him,” she said.

Snape watched them interact, his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. Snape had suffered greatly at the hands of Voldemort protecting the young wizard. He was whipped severely when Dumbledore took him into hiding at twelve Grimmauld Place and Snape lied and said he had no idea where Harry was. Now the idiot comes directly to the Dark Lord’s stronghold. He would have been killed if Voldemort had been alive, and Snape would have gone through all that agony for nothing.

There was another problem. Knowing Harry, he had told someone where he was going. Probably that idiot Weasley. The Order had probably quadrupled their efforts to find him. And with Voldemort’s death, the protection around his stronghold was probably fading. It would be possible to locate it. Which meant the Final Battle was about to begin. Only there was no one to battle any more, except them.

“Mr. Potter, did you inform anyone where you were going?” Snape asked him nastily.

“I-I left Ron a note saying I was going for Hermione,” Harry said. Hermione was holding his hand soothingly. Snape felt like throwing up. Everybody babied the wizard. How did they ever believe he could defeat the Dark Lord?

“Well, that means the Order will be on us, shortly,” Snape said, “Voldemort’s protection around the stronghold should be fading if it isn’t already gone. The stronghold will be plottable.”

His black eyes shifted toward Hermione.

“Miss Granger, can you look outside of this building and see if anyone or anything is approaching us?” he asked her.

“I don’t know. I’ll try,” she said.

Hermione willed herself to see beyond the walls. An image of the outside superimposed itself over the throne room wall. Snape and Harry both could see what she saw. Something small was in the sky approaching. Hermione focused on it.

“That’s Hedwig!” Harry exclaimed.

Yes, it was Hedwig. And there were several mounted hippogriffs flying behind her.

“Order reconnaissance,” Snape observed. “They will scout the location and return to Dumbledore with the coordinates. More than likely he has already assembled several thousand Order members to attack the stronghold. Perhaps we need to summon the deatheaters to fight.”

“No,” Hermione said firmly, “I won’t pit wizard against wizard. There has to be another way to stop the Order. The Dark Lord is dead and the deatheaters have no leader. Tell me, Professor, were there any officers in the ranks, who commanded the others to fight?”

Snape shook his head.

“No. Voldemort didn’t trust anyone to give orders but himself,” he said, “like most despots he feared overthrow from among his ranks. He did not want any leaders among his deatheaters for fear they would garner loyalty and rise up against him.”

“So, there is no one to rally the deatheaters to arms then,” she said.

“No,” Snape replied, “without the Dark Lord to direct them, there is no one.”

“Seems a terrible way to fight a war,” Hermione mused.

“Any way one fights a war is terrible, Miss Granger,” Snape replied, “Voldemort did not care how many of his deatheaters would die, as long as Order members died and he could get a clear shot at Dumbledore. Even Harry was secondary. He never really feared the boy. He did have his moments of doubt, such as when knowledge of the Prophecy came to him. But after the Dark Lord failed to acquire it, he realized that the greatest leaders created their destinies, not waited for them. As you see, the Prophecy came to naught. Harry did not kill him.”


“Voldemort knew he could defeat Harry one on one. He was too powerful for one so young to handle,” Snape said, looking down at Harry with a frown. “Harry’s ability to destroy Voldemort was a myth that Dumbledore perpetuated to keep the wizarding world focused on the Boy Who Lived, so the Headmaster could do his little dirt with none being the wiser. You were meant to be martyred, Mr. Potter. I spent years protecting a young wizard I always knew was marked for death. It didn’t make me particularly fond of you.”

Harry met Snape’s gaze, his green eyes wide.

“So, Miss Granger, we have one despot down, and one more to go. The Order is closing in on this stronghold, and will strike first. You are a target. You cannot let them take you,” he said.

Lucius Malfoy stood listening to all of this, still frozen in place, unable to move. The Dark Lord dead? That meant he was free of him, finally. Lucius had remained loyal to the Dark Lord because it was the only way to stay alive. The pureblood would be perfectly content to return to his Manor and never don his deatheater robes or answer a summons again. He’d miss the Revels, but could live without them. He had never wanted to give his life or the life of his family for Voldemort’s dreams of conquest. The wizard had fallen under Voldemort’s spell of power and gain when in his youth. He, like Snape realized early on how insane the Dark Lord was, but was in too deep and didn’t have the strength Snape did to leave. He was too frightened of retribution. Of death.

The truth of the matter was, many deatheaters felt this way. The Dark Lord was too cruel a Master to inspire true loyalty. He ruled by fear. His death would only be mourned by a few zealots. Most were like Snape, and wanted to return to their lives. Without Voldemort’s threatening presence, most of the six thousand deatheaters would not rally and fight. Lucius wished they would release him. He’d simply wish them luck and head for home. But they were ignoring him completely. What on earth was holding him here?

Hermione looked thoughtful. Then she brightened.

“We have to bring Dumbledore to this stronghold and talk to him. Try to make him see reason,” Hermione said. Snape looked at her as if she had been dropped on her head.

“Bring him here? Miss Granger, if Dumbledore got within a thousand meters of you or me, he’d blast first and asked questions later,” Snape said, “what in the world do you think you could say to make him be reasonable?”

“Nothing,” she said, with a little smile.

Snape and Harry stared at her, not knowing what to think.

“We can bring him in by taking a Wizard’s Oath that we wish to talk only, then he can return to his command. He can take one also, saying he will do the same. That will give us even ground and insure there will be no violence between us,” Hermione said.

“But what good will that do?” asked Snape, “He will still be able to lead the Order and attack us.”

He scowled at the witch. This was only going to forestall the inevitable. She should just blast the old bastard to bits and be done with it. But then again, she was a Primordial. No one could hurt her anyway…but him? He could be hurt if something went wrong.

Snape noticed motion out of the corner of his eye. Wormtail was standing in one of the doorways, holding a pair of snakeskin boots and ogling Harry, his beady eyes wide. He saw Snape looking at him and went for his wand.

Snape blasted the deatheater with a wandless stunner, knocking him unconscious, then walked over and picked up the snakeskin boots. He looked them over.

“Nice job, Peter,” he said, before casting a binding spell on him. Grabbing the unconscious wizard by the foot, Snape dragged him over to the floor by Lucius and left him there. Snape turned, and looked Lucius in the eye for a moment, then walked back over to Hermione and Harry. He had nothing against Lucius. He was just another hapless follower of the Dark Lord…another misguided puppet.

“Now, you were saying, Miss Granger?” he said, the snakeskin boots still in his hands.

“I want to get a message to him. Hedwig should be here by now. We’ll use her to send Dumbledore a request to come talk with us before he attacks. He’ll want to see what he’s up against, so he’ll come as long as the Oath is in place. We’ll send Harry to walk him in,” she said, looking at Harry.

“What do you say Harry?” Hermione asked him. Harry frowned.

“My whole life he’s been setting me up to get me killed, he tried to kill your parents, he’s trying to kill you…I really don’t want to see him, Hermione. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. It would be one thing if you were going to keep him here, or punish him when he arrived, but you plan to let him go back…I don’t understand,” Harry said.

Hermione smiled at Harry.

“Harry, I know what I’m doing. Just trust me. Do you think you can control your temper enough to walk him back here?” Hermione asked him softly.

Harry looked at her, his green eyes hard.

“Please, Harry,” she said.

The young wizard capitulated.

“All right, Hermione. I’ll do it, but I don’t like it,” he replied.

Snape was sitting on Voldemort’s throne, taking off his black leather boots and replacing them with the snakeskin ones. Hermione looked up at him.

“What are you doing, Professor?” she asked him.

“What does it look like?” he replied, “If I’m going to be killed because of your asinine idea of bringing Albus into our midst, I want to go out like the muggle cowboys, with my boots on.”

Hermione snorted. If this worked, no one would have to die or even be hurt.

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A/N: Well, Hermione has some kind of plan. Snape and Harry don’t like it much, but they aren’t coming up with anything better. We’ll see what happens. Please review.