Everything I Do, I Do It For You

Chapter 58: The Death of a Dark Wizard

Voldemort/Cornelius looked up after he swallowed the harnessing potion. A frown crossed his face; he felt no difference within himself, no surge of power, no instant recall. He threw the vial down to the floor, watching it shatter against the hard cold stone.

“What is this?” he screamed to no one in particular. “Why haven’t my powers returned?” he asked, truly perplexed, his arm growing tighter around Hermione’s waist.

Although it was indeed Cornelius’ body, it was clear to Severus that it was Voldemort who possessed control of this weak-minded fool of a Minister and he cursed himself for not noticing the signs earlier.

Severus’ eyes narrowed; he had to divert Voldemort’s attention before he had a chance to damage Hermione. If this were to work, he had to do something and quickly. Taking a deep breath, Severus steeled his nerves and began.

“Perhaps it is because of the fact that Miss Granger and I are linked.” He allowed the implications to settle in and then continued. “Therefore, she currently has an enchantment upon her person,” Severus replied in a bored, dull voice although he felt anything but.

“Then you too shall die,” Voldemort screeched out in fury, all his attention now focused on his one time Potions Master.

Seeing an opening, Peter scampered to Voldemort’s side, throwing himself at his previous Master’s feet. The bits of broken glass were digging into his knees and palms, but he didn’t have time to think about that now. If his plan were to work, then he was going to need all of his Gryffindor courage for what he was about to do next.

“Master, you are back,” he said, his voice wavering as his head hung almost to the floor.

Voldemort, taken back by Peter’s intrusion, threw Hermione across the room. She landed awkwardly into Severus’ waiting arms, hands upraised on his chest, wand still clenched in her right hand.

Severus held onto Hermione in a protective manner, his arms encircling her body. He was shocked by Pettigrew’s actions, and he bristled with indignation at the thought of being duped once more by the rat of a man.

Voldemort looked down his nose at Peter.

“I see that you have returned,” he said coldly to Peter, glaring down at the man before him with a look of disgust on his face. Voldemort’s piercing red eyes were boring into Peter’s skull and Pettigrew shivered with a feeling of dread.

Peter didn’t dare look up; he was steeling his nerves for what he was about to do next.

“Yes, Master,” Peter replied, breathing heavily onto the cold stone floor.

“I never left you, Master; I was just biding my time until you rose again. I knew it wouldn’t take you long,” Peter continued, the slight waver in his voice was evident however; Voldemort took no notice.

“And what, pray tell, were you doing with the traitor?” he spat as he looked up at the dark-haired wizard before him. The man in question was currently clutching onto the Mudblood as though he were shielding her from the world. Voldemort sneered at the scene before turning his gaze once more to the back of Peter’s head.

“I had no choice, Master,” Peter started. “I went to the graveyard, like you said, but no one was there. I waited for days, Master, but no one came. That is to say, except for Snape,” he answered in a whiny voice.

Peter then looked up a little, making sure that the Dark-wizard before him heard the abhorrence in his voice before continuing.

“I was caught unaware and taken to the Muggle-loving fool at Hogwarts, where I was kept prisoner,” he continued, trying to buy some time for Tolmie to arrive, so that the four of them could fulfil the prophecy.

Voldemort, using Cornelius’ body, looked up to the traitor and the Mudblood who was currently in his arms.

Oh, how he would make the traitor pay for his underhanded dealing with the other side.
Of course, he had an inkling that his Potions Master was the one relaying his plans to the Order. However, he didn’t receive the necessary proof until a couple of months before the Final Battle, when the dark-haired man informed the Muggle-loving fool, Albus Dumbledore, of his plan to break everyone out of Azkaban. Some of his most loyal followers were killed in the skirmish between the guards of Azkaban, the Order of the Phoenix and the minions that he had sent to break out the prisoners.

It was true that some had survived, though barely, and they had brought back with them an account of Snape’s betrayal.

Snape had to die. Voldemort believed that he had to do this one task himself.

It was also true that Snape was like a mosquito, ever present; he would pop up at the most exasperating times. Like the ever bothersome mosquito, he had to be crushed under foot before he had the opportunity to draw blood and Voldemort knew he was the wizard to do this.

Not bothering with Pettigrew, he drew his wand up to point at the dark-haired man’s chest.
Severus quickly pulled Hermione out of his grasp and placed her behind himself in a heroic gesture. His posture straightened, his head held high. He looked like a man who was not afraid of death and this infuriated Voldemort even more.

Voldemort scoffed at this as his eyes lit up. This was going to be easier than he originally thought. He would have to capture the Mudblood once more and go through the tedious task of making the ‘harnessing’ potion again. But after the traitor was out of the picture, he didn’t think it would be a hard task to complete.

“Tell me one thing before I kill you,” Voldemort demanded, his wand unwavering from its position pointed at the dark-hared wizard standing mere feet away from him.

“How did you manage to get the magical creatures to attack?” he asked with a tinge of curiosity in his voice, though his face revealed nothing. “The last time I looked they followed no one.” Voldemort finished.

“Ah that would be my doing,” Tolmie replied, finally creeping out of the shadows where he had been watching the proceedings from the top of the staircase. Seconds ago, he had removed the charm that had enabled him to appear invisible and had replaced his wand in his robe pocket. Tolmie descended the staircase with an air of grace and composure.

Voldemort whirled around to face the interruption as Severus just watched on, not betraying how grateful he was for Tolmie’s presence at that precise moment.

Hermione, who was standing behind Severus, snuck a peek past his body to see Tolmie and her heart leapt for joy. Even Peter, who was still in the submissive position on the floor, glanced up in shock.

“And you are?” Voldemort asked, his red eyes narrowing into slits as he kept his wand trained on Severus.

“Tolmie Crobobin, Potions Master and Empath, at your service,” Tolmie replied, stopping on the stairs and giving Voldemort a little scornful bow. Tolmie’s face lit up with a pretentious smile as he straightened back up and continued to descend the staircase.

Voldemort eyes widened in shock. Here standing before him was the wizard that he had been searching for all those months previously.

Tolmie stopped short at the bottom of the staircase his eyes still fixed on Cornelius’ body, who had been possessed by Voldemort’s evil mind. The hatred he felt radiating off the man was palpable as he swayed slightly.

Voldemort recovered quickly as his eyes tapered to slits once more.

“So, Mr Crobobin,” he began, slowly enunciating each syllable of Tolmie’s name, “we meet at last.”

“That we do, my Lord,” Tolmie spat out Voldemort’s title with every ounce of venom in his person. His smile turned to a sardonic one, but never left his face.

“You dare,” Voldemort retorted with fury, “you dare mock me?” His voice thundered as his body shook with wrath. Voldemort took a few steps towards Tolmie looking in the wizard’s eyes standing before him.

To Tolmie’s credit, he didn’t break away from the madman’s gaze as he stared back without flinching. Tolmie could feel Voldemort gnawing away at the surface of his mind; however, he would not allow this intrusion and he not so delicately pushed Voldemort from his mind.

Voldemort was stunned and staggered slightly backwards a couple of paces, tripping over Peter who was still at his feet.

Peter saw this as the perfect opportunity and, with a stealth that few knew him to possess; he reached up for the wand in Cornelius’ hand. Snatching it away from the Dark wizard, he deftly snapped it in two.

Voldemort turned around to face the rat of a man who was kneeling in an upright position on the floor. In his hands, he held the two pieces of Voldemort’s own wand, which had been incorporated into Cornelius’, but disillusioned to look like the Minister of Magic’s own. His ferocity reached a new peak as he bent over and in the blink of an eye snapped Peter Pettigrew’s neck as though he was snapping a twig beneath his hands.

Peter Pettigrew crumbled to the floor and ceased to move.

Tolmie and Severus watched on in horror. With Peter gone, they could no longer fulfil the prophecy; hence they could not destroy Voldemort once and for all.

“You, I shall deal with later,” Voldemort said icily to Tolmie. “For now I think that it is time for an old acquaintance of mine to die.”

Voldemort turned to face Severus, his red eyes had narrowed once more and the look on his face turned Severus’ blood to ice. He raised his hand, the Killing Curse was a mere milliseconds from escaping his lips when Hermione dropped her wand. It made a distinct bang as it fell to the hard stone floor. She took a step out from behind Severus and shouted a single word, “NO!”

This made Voldemort halt in his execution of the curse. All attention turned to Hermione in all of her splendour. She would not allow this insane dictator to hurt the one man that she felt she could truly love; this had to end and it had to end now.

“There shall be no more death at your bidding,” she said, her words were chosen carefully and she was still walking ever so slowly around Severus. Hermione’s back was rigid and her chin held high in a show of defiance. The magic that was dancing around her even made Severus take a couple of uneasy steps backwards.

“You have already taken from me everyone that I love and I will not allow you to take away my one chance at happiness.” She kept on talking as she rounded on Voldemort, as though he were a small child about to be chastised and not the most impious of wizards.

Voldemort laughed at her words, a hollow laugh so filled with malevolence that it made Severus and Tolmie shudder at the sound of it. However, Hermione didn’t falter an inch as she continued to round on the madman in front of her.

“And what precisely are your plans to prevent me from doing so?” Voldemort asked, clearly amused at the Mudblood’s presumption.

Hermione did not reply; she simply glared at Voldemort, all the time moving ever so slowly, all nerves on edge, to stand in front of him, cutting out his view of Severus and Tolmie for a brief second.

“For a Mudblood, you are sure of yourself, aren’t you!” he stated as his eyes flickered with delight. “I may just keep you around after I harness your powers, for you are such an obstinate little witch.” He laughed once more before his face turned back to the ruthlessness that he was known for.

Hermione closed her eyes, calling upon all of her magical reserves. Opening them ever so slowly, she looked straight into Voldemort's own.

Voldemort looked aghast at what he saw in the Mudblood’s eyes. The myriad of colours going through her eyes was alarming and this clearly showed on Cornelius’ features.

Her eyes changed from her chocolate-coloured eyes to Harry’s green to his own red. It was as though the three colours, with their own separate personalities, were fighting for dominance.

With a single movement of her head in an upwards motion, Voldemort felt himself thrown at the wall behind him with such force that he heard Cornelius’ bones shatter on impact. He was feeling dazed as he shook his head to try and regain his composure.

Hermione stalked her prey ever so leisurely, her eyes still changing from one colour to the next.

Voldemort panicked and looked around the room for help. His startled wide eyes scanned the room as though someone would come to his rescue.

“Severus,” he gasped out, trying to catch his breath as he found it harder to draw the necessary oxygen into his lungs, “call off your banshee and you can be my right-hand man in my new world.” Voldemort spoke although he knew he was quite literally clutching at straws and he had no other option.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Severus replied with a smug look on his face. “You see I have no control over her when she gets like this, so it is completely out of my hands,” he continued, folding his arms across his chest with a triumphant look on his face.

Voldemort’s red eyes darted helplessly over to Tolmie’s face and he took in the look he held there. Realising he would get no help from him either, his wide eyes looked at the witch who was currently approaching him as if she were indeed coming in for the kill.

Hermione had just about rounded on her quarry as Voldemort gave a spluttering cough. Blood sprayed from his mouth and fell in front of her feet as he laughed once more.

“You think you can defeat me,” he said looking up at the Mudblood bitch and giving her his most immoral look possible. “I will rise again for this body is just a vessel for my mind,” he continued as he motioned to Cornelius’ body with a weary hand.

Hermione’s eyes locked onto Voldemort’s and he felt a power that made his body quake with foreboding. He tried to place wards up to protect his psyche; however, Hermione pushed past them as though they were mere pebbles under her foot as she entered his mind.

Voldemort knew that Cornelius’ body could not take anymore as he tried to focus all of his remaining energy on breathing, which was quite a task in itself, and he felt her enter his mind as though he proved no obstacle whatsoever.

He saw imagines and, after a few seconds, comprehended that they were indeed his own.

A Muggle child being raped by his Death Eaters as he himself watched on with a gleeful look in his eye. An Auror being tortured, his screams being heard throughout his underground lair. The begging of a man to spare his wife’s life. The Cruciatus Curse ringing loudly from his own wand.

Voldemort could feel the beads of sweat course their way down his forehead and make their way into his eyes; however, he could not blink, he could not tear his eyes away from the witch’s own before him. He was shaking all over, but still the images assaulted his brain and there was no way to stop them from entering.

The Killing Curse, Imperio, and Cruciatus Curses all rang loudly throughout his head, as his own voice shouted curse after curse. Dumbledore facing him at the Ministry of Magic, his face thunderous. Harry Potter at the graveyard, touching the Portkey which whisked him away from the scene.

Muggle baiting, orgies and other depraved acts were flashing through his mind. His breathing was laboured and he felt a cold sweat encase his entire body. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

“Stop it,” Voldemort screamed, in a voice so weak that both Severus and Tolmie knew he couldn’t take much more of what Hermione was doing to him.

Still Hermione was looking into his eyes; her body was rigid as she stared hollowly into Voldemort’s wide fearful face.

Severus took a hesitant step forward and extended his arm out to place it on top of Hermione’s shoulder. Before he could make contact, however, his arm was knocked down to his side by Tolmie.

Looking over into Tolmie’s eyes, he was about to question him when understanding dawned on him. Hermione was making Voldemort relive every atrocity he had ever committed.

All of a sudden, Severus heard a sob and quickly turned his face away from Tolmie’s to stare into Voldemort’s tearful eyes which were still being held by Hermione impenetrable gaze.

Voldemort was repeating something over and over again, and although Severus couldn’t hear him, he read his lips to discover that he was actually pleading for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry,” Voldemort pleaded over and over again; the mantra was repeated until his body gave an almighty heave and ended its long-time struggle to breathe.

With Voldemort gone, Hermione sank to the floor.

A single soul-shattering scream rang out from the infirmary back at Hogwarts, causing several of the portraits to awaken in the otherwise silent castle.

***

A/N: I could make my excuses as to why I haven’t updated in ages; however, I don’t really think you care about them, so let’s just say that I am sorry.

As to the prophecy, well, they all contributed to the final uprising of the new Dark Lord, did they not? Peter snapped his wand, Tolmie brought the Magical Creatures, Severus helped to unleash Hermione’s powers, which only come into play when someone she cares about is being hurt, and Hermione, well what can I say? She kicked Fudge/Voldemort’s ass.

This was not how I planned for it all to come down, but what can I say? My muses have the run of the show and I am but a vessel to their outrageous whims.

Thank you so very much to my fabulous beta, LariLee. I love you, girlfriend, and don’t know what I would do without you.

Next chapter, let’s see where my warped mind takes us as we see lemons, my style. All I am going to say is that it should be interesting.

Please review and let me know if you think Cornelius/Voldemort got his just desserts? If you don’t understand anything, just ask me and I will explain.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately these characters don’t belong to me. If they did, I would make sure that Severus and Hermione ended up together in book 7!