Chapter 269: Careless (Patreon)
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Chapter 269: Careless
9th February 2013, Malfoy Manor
(Hermione Granger POV)
“You’re just trying to justify it to yourself, say that it was for the best. But what you did today was wrong, and you know it. Deep in your heart, you realize the monster that you’ve become in your mad quest for equality. There’s no such thing as true equality. The world is not fair, and all you’re trying to do is take away the property of others to give to the general public, without even giving them an equal compensation. You’re trying to steal their legacies and offer nothing in return. And when the old families oppose and they will, what will you do? Will you massacre them as well? Will you keep killing and killing until the only people left in this country are your supporters and you?”
Hermione had enough. With a scream, she leapt into the air, arms raised, trying to punch the bound woman, only to go through her. Jasmine Potter wasn’t bound, and she turned, revealing the woman, unbound, sitting down on a conjured chair, “Well, aren’t you going to answer my question?”
Hermione would forever deny this fact, but she let out a squeak of fear when she realized that her prisoner wasn’t actually bound. It was impossible; this was a ritual made to bind Death itself, even if it was only for a short time, and the effects of the ritual were somewhat vague. But still, it should have been enough to bind anything, let alone a single witch.
The Muggleborn witch ended up stuttering, “How? This shouldn’t be possible!!”
Jasmine Potter let out an infuriating smirk, “Oh, honey, you barely know anything about magic, and especially about something like the ritual you just used. Don’t worry, I’m sure that you have no idea how it works. Don’t worry about it, this magic is old, far older than the name Peverell, for that matter. It was created by their ancestors, in fact, in a very magical place, the closest thing to a human Utopia that has ever existed on this planet. I have to say, I was very surprised at seeing it here. I thought that I had destroyed the last copy of that cursed ritual.”
“I don’t understand,” Hermione bit out.
“Ah, that is the first truth you have spoken today, to both myself and to yourself, young witch. Now, tell me, Hermione Granger, what is your answer to my question? What were you planning to do to the people who will oppose you? Are you going to slaughter them, like you did the court? Perhaps you would eradicate them, just like Tom Riddle planned to do to Muggleborns?”
“No, of course I wasn’t going to kill them.”
The woman nodded, “Alright, then what was the plan. You’ve obviously thought about it, if you’ve come this far, if you’ve planned to kill the Court. Tell me, what were your plans for your opposers, then.”
Hermione yelled out, “I don’t know!”
The woman raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, “That was a lie, and you know it,” Hermione instinctively put up her Occlumency shield, trying to clear her thoughts as best she could, “your flimsy little Occlumency shield wouldn’t protect you from someone of my skill and power. Now, say the truth, daughter of Emma Granger, what was your plan?”
Hermione deflated entirely, “I was going to convince you and your sister to teach me your magic and I would have offered it in exchange for their allegiance.”
Hermione expected to be tortured, to feel the brunt of the anger and rage of the woman in front of her, but she ended up watching the woman burst into laughter, “That’s good. At least you had a plan and wasn’t rushing too much into things. So, you planned on selling away my magic. That’s cute kiddo. But what I’m most interested in, is the fact that you knew that Rose was going to be kidnapped as well. You planned around it, after all.”
Again, the Muggleborn was ready to be attacked, and proceeded to get up to preemptively try to defeat her seemingly unconcerned opponent, who had somehow, provided herself with a cup of tea which she was taking a sip from every few seconds.
In response, the woman just waved her hands slightly – at least the one that wasn’t holding the cup of tea, and Hermione’s wand was just gone. The Muggleborn hadn’t just been disarmed, her wand had just disappeared, and she had no idea where it was. Hermione had never felt more vulnerable ever since she was a child and had almost been killed by a troll in Hogwarts.
Jasmine just tutted, “Now, none of that, Ms. Granger, you’re being quite rude. We’re still having a conversation here, so, let’s stay civil for now. Don’t worry, I’m not going attack you during this little interrogation of ours.”
The woman sighed and continued, “Don’t worry, young witch, Rose is fine, and while your little ritual was a bit surprising, it snapped me out of my funk, so to speak. Let’s just say that I was being a tad carried away when the Court made me angry. You snapped me out of it, and for that I owe you one. Don’t get your hopes up, I’m still probably going to kill you, but since you helped me, I will make sure that should it come to this, it will be as painless as possible.”
Hermione didn’t know whether she should be thankful for the woman that’s probably going to kill her will do it painlessly. It was probably better than many other outcomes. Instead, she opted to ask the question that truly burned her, “How did you escape the binding?”
The woman snorted, “Honey, that binding was never meant for beings of flesh, who has physical forms. The most impressive aspect of this ritual was the summoning, really, not the binding aspect, which happened to be geared towards phantasmal beings. It was also why you generally have to sacrifice a person to act as a vessel while for the bindings to happen, or at least it should have. This ritual happens to be incomplete, or at least heavily modified from the original one.”
“How do you know all this?”
Hermione’s former captive winked at her, “Oh, trust me, I know a lot, especially about my own ancestors. Just because Nathan never cared, doesn’t mean that there aren’t any records to the magical history.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow, you said that the ritual was created long before the Peverell brothers came to be. Why did no one use it before?”
“My dear, do you think anyone could summon Death, without a consequence. It happened a single time in history, and it wasn’t at the hand of the Peverell but their ancestors. Death is not a person like you or me. It is the personification of the end, of destroy anything it touches. It doesn’t have a body, a name or anything, it just is Death. Do you truly think that someone, from an insignificant planet in a single universe, could even hold sway over her? No, Death was bound only once in history, and it caused the fall of Atlantis. And it didn’t just affect our universe but countless others. It became a fixed point in every timeline where Atlantis exists. In every universe, in the infinite multiverse, Atlantis sinks, just because of a hubris of a single magical Clan, who wanted to tame Death. How a mighty civilization had fallen at the hand of the foolish few.”
Hermione was confused. As interesting as this history lesson is, something didn’t make sense, “What about the Deathly hallows. They exist, don’t they? Were they made when Atlantis fell? And if not, then who did the Peverell brothers summon?”
“Death was surprised the first time, probably, but when the Peverell brothers tried to replicate the feat of their ancestors, unaware of the risk that it could pose, Death had learnt from its mistake and sent someone in its stead. It created cursed objects that would bring nothing but misfortune to their wielders, while they remain clueless of the curse that they were under.”
“Then how did you escape?”
Jasmine shrugged, “It wasn’t that hard, to be honest. The bindings are geared towards higher beings, ones without a physical form, and absorbs their energies. Normally, sacrificial soul magic, like the one you used would have been troublesome to deal with, but the bindings you used rely on absorbing the target’s energy. You overwhelmed it with the life force you stole from the Court members you killed, and it diluted the amount of energy you could siphon from me, and how much you could do it at a time. This, of course made it easier to just use my magic to overwhelm the structural integrity of the bindings and afterwards, I just made an illusion to keep you talking. Don’t get me wrong, I could have escaped even if you didn’t mess up, but you’re the one who tried to modify a ritual that you just didn’t understand how it worked properly and hoped it would work.”
What a horrible realization. Hermione had failed because she didn’t know enough, wasn’t learnt enough. What a sad way to lose, a sad way to go, “Is this when you kill me?”
The woman let out a chuckle, “Of course not. I have to decide whether you deserve to die, before. And to do that, you have to tell me, was it worth it?”
Hermione didn’t understand what the woman meant, and Jasmine must have noticed her confusion because she continued, “I meant, are you satisfied with the way your life ended up. You only worked towards your goal, foolish that it might be, but the goal was still admirable. But you gave up so much, for such a meaningless dream, in the long run. You never experienced love, true love, you never had children of your own, you gave up on the little friends you made at Hogwarts and focused on milking Nathan like a cow for your political ambitions. Hell, you just killed him, a few minutes ago, for your dream of equality. Now, I want to ask you if you’re okay with this? Are you satisfied with the trade you made, living an empty life for a single ambition?”
The Muggleborn witch was ready to retort, but she froze. She had given up on her life, hadn’t she. How many friends does she have now? How many people would miss her should the woman in front of her deem her unworthy of life? No one, that’s who. Hermione was utterly alone. How had she not realized it? She was completely alone, living a meaningless life, for a foolish goal. She even betrayed her only friend and killed him, even if it was accidentally.
With tears in her eyes, Hermione yelled at the indifferent woman in front her, “Why are you asking me all this? Do you like to watch me suffer; do you want to see me break in front of you?”
The woman snorted, “You are rather entitled, aren’t you? You truly think that the world revolves around you. Honestly, if it was up to me, I wouldn’t have cared about you at all. The best way I could say it, is that for someone like me, you’re barely more than a mosquito. Do you care about the countless mosquitoes in the world, what they do when they’re not bothering? Of course, you don’t. But if one kept buzzing around your head, well, if it annoys you enough, you slap them away. That’s what I’m doing. It’s quite simple, really. I want you to realize what you truly are, before I judge you, to see yourself without the mask you have used to hide your truth from others as well as from yourself. I want you to see that you’re not even hideous on the inside, no you’re blank, you’re empty. You have nothing there, but a set of broken dreams. You haven’t lived your life and for that you disgust me. Which is why, I judge you as guilty.”
Jasmine raised her hand and a black energy blade started to appear in her hand.
Hermione started panicking, “Please don’t kill me. You need me. Without me, magical Britain would collapse. I am the only person who’s capable of holding things together.”
The woman froze right in front of Hermione’s chest, “You’re right, and I’m a pragmatic person. You, being in charge of magical Britain, would be the best choice, right now.”
Hermione’s shoulder’s slumped in relief. Perhaps, she’ll live another day, “but this time, I don’t care. You almost got my sister killed in your foolishness. Goodbye Hermione Granger.”
The Muggleborn witch barely even registered the woman’s word before she felt burning in the middle of her chest, and the world faded to black. Hermione’s last thoughts were of confusion and regret. She realized that in all her decades of life, she had not truly lived, being too consumed by impossible goals to do so properly. What a sad life, she had.