Venenum

Dendroaspis.

Chapter 3. Dendroaspis - The Lion or the Snake

Edited January 2024

Her legs are trembling, her throat is dry, her heart pounds against her chest, her lungs seem to ache with every intake of air and her eyes burn with the tears that are beginning to form. Hermione thinks she's at the beginning of a panic attack or is hyperventilating.

Oh, she recognises him now. The boy who tried to help her and Harry. Oh, she remembers. Remembers him fighting and how she protected him from Fiendfyre. She had no idea who he was at the time but if she had known... If she had known that he was the cause of so much suffering and terror that tormented her and her friends, if she had known he was a murderer and a terrorist, if she had known that he was the future Dark Lord, if she had known he was Lord Voldemort ...

She wouldn't have thought twice before letting the Fiendfyre hit him. How ironic it would have been to see the Dark Lord being charred by one of his Death Eaters. Oh, she would have liked it. Merlin knows she would. She would dance in his ashes, she would set off fireworks like the Weasley's Wildfired Whiz-Bangs, drink a barrel of mead and one of firewhisky and laugh like a drunk. Merlin, she would swim naked in the Great Lake. All this to commemorate the death of the Dark Lord. But no, damn it, she'd saved him, placed herself in front of him to protect him from the attack.

In her defense, she thought it would have been a worthy act, to sacrifice herself and protect a student who tried to help her and Harry - even if this student didn't know what he was getting into. It was the right thing to do and Hermione didn't want to see any more deaths.

It would have been the right thing to do... if this person was not Voldemort himself!

Hermione mentally kicked herself. If she had let the Fiendfyre hit him, then all the problems of the wizarding world would have been solved. Even if it was against the advice Dumbledore gave to her, even if his early death changed all the trajectory of time, for a moment the idea was tempting to her.

"Miss ...?" He tilts his head to the side, his voice sweet and with eyebrows united, as if he were worried.

Hermione so far said nothing, she was petrified in place, still trying to absorb the idea of being face to face with young Voldemort and his most loyal followers. This can only be karma. A rebellious tear trickles down her face and she dries it quickly, trying to compose herself to face him. For everyone present, the girl's countenance and pallor did not go unnoticed, not even the tear.

"Forgive me," she says, swallowing. "I was recalling some memories of the recent fight."

"Oh, it's understandable that you're scared." Riddle puts his hand on her shoulder, lowering slightly, so that he is at her eye level. Hermione's eyes widen at the sight of him so close. It is not a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy that she sees but, the pale, noseless, red-eyed monster with a snake face.

His hand is on her shoulder and Hermione thinks that as soon as she has a chance to take a shower, she will scrub her shoulder for at least thirty minutes.

"But I'm sure you're safe at Hogwarts." He smiles, trying to convey security.

"Uh ... uh, thank you." She murmurs quietly.

Their attention is drawn to two more boys who are approaching. One has white blond hair so alike to Draco's, closely resembling platinum, with green eyes and white skin, walking serenely and yet, arrogantly. His lips were strangely rosy as if he had used lipstick, but Hermione supposed it was only the color contrast with his pale skin. The other had a rather long face, dark hair, his nose seemed a little crooked as if it had broken and never healed right or he never bothered to go see a mediwitch, however, he didn't seem to care much about anything. He was a little more corpulent and strangely familiar.