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Title: Ignis et Glacis
Author: Vasaris, the Fuzzy Dragon
Pairings: None as of yet
Summary: There are many ways to end the world.
Sequel to In Principia
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Harry Potter belongs primarily to J. K. Rowling, with sidelines for Scholastic, WB, etc., poor lad.

Warning: unbeta'd so may be subject to random editing



Part 1: Some say the world will end in fire


Flame erupted nova bright from the oiled wood, and Hermione screamed in wordless denial. Ron’s hands bit into her shoulders as she ripped herself away from him.

“Hermione…”

“I’ll never forgive this,” Hermione told him coldly.

“They’re just faggots, Hermione.”

“They saved the world.”

“And the world is better off without them!” He reached for her and she flinched away, drawing her wand. “Hermione, don’t be like that.”

“Like what, Ron? Loyal? Objective?” she grimaced in disgust. “God forbid, reasonable?”

He dropped his hand, bewilderment written across his face in stark shadows and incandescent light. “Reasonable? Hermione. Honestly.”

“Yes, Ron.” Anger coiled in her belly, a writhing mass waiting to strike. “I can’t stay here.”

“Wha--?” He reached for her again and she disapparated, unwilling to allow his touch.

Hermione looked at the stark, black walls that surrounded her and scolded herself for not having a better target in mind than Grimmauld Place. Ron could chase her here, if he realized that she might choose it to flee to. “Damnation! Would that I could forbid him, forbid them all!”

With a small pop, Kreacher appeared, muttering darkly beneath his breath. “Did the mudblood whore mistress wish something?”

She stared at Kreacher, appalled. “What did you say?”

“Did the filthy mudblood have a task for Kreacher now that the horrid half-blood boy has given this place to her?”

“What?”

“You is the new mistress, dirty mudblood…”

Hermione stared at the creature coldly. “Am I, now? In that case, I forbid you from using pejoratives in reference to myself and others with Muggle heritage.”

Kreacher stared at her, hate clear in his buggy eyes.

“I wonder… do you have to do anything I ask of you?”

“Kreacher must do as his mistress wishes.”

“Your mistress wishes devoutly that she could reasonably free you, but that sounds like a remarkably bad idea to me.” Hermione brushed her hair away from her face. “I am in command of the warding spells here, then?

“If mistress wishes it, yes.”

“Ah.” Hermione thought for a moment. “I wish it. How do I take control of them?”

Kreacher growled.

“None of that,” Hermione said softly, waving a finger at him in admonition. “You will treat everyone, no matter their species or magical state with kindness, consideration, and respect Kreacher.”

“Or what?”

Flames flamed nova-bright behind her eyes. “Are you certain you want to know, Kreacher?”

Kreacher stared at her and then slowly shook his head.

Hermione smiled and it had little to do with amusement. “Answer the question then.”

“Kreacher will lead you to the keystones.”

“Oh, I think not you duplicitous creature.” Hermione’s lips twisted up. “Your masters and mistresses must have truly believed that we Muggleborns are idiots if they instilled the thought that I’d be so stupid as to follow you to the heart of the house. I do wonder whether your intent is to kill me by the overload of magic such an winding of the Wards would create or if you simply thought to take possession of them and the house without my knowledge.”

“Kreacher is certain he has no idea what you speak of.”

Hermione laughed. “I’m certain he doesn’t. Make no mistake, Kreacher, I have no need of you for this task.”

Kreacher scowled and popped away. Hermione shook her head.

“Dobby!” she called out softly.

“Miss Hermy!” Dobby’s squeaking little voice was a balm to her nerves, for all it was clear that the house-elf had been crying. “They’s gone and done it, Miss Hermy! They’s burned Master Harry!”

Hermione dropped to her knees and gathered the wailing house-elf into her arms, an action that startled him into silence. “I know, Dobby. I was there.”

“They is wrong! Master Harry was the greatest wizard! Master Harry freed Dobby! He destroyed –” The elf clung to her and she cradled him gently, finally allowing her own tears to flow.

“What is Dobby to do?” the elf whispered. “Master Dumbly and Master Harry is gone.”

Hermione pulled back slightly. “Would you work for me, Dobby? For the same terms that the Headmaster granted you?”

“For pay, Miss Hermy?”

Hermione nodded. “And I’d rather like it if you, well, wore –”

“Clothes? Mistress would allow this one clothing, like a human?” Dobby’s eyes were bright.

“Yes.”

“And magic?”

Hermione frowned. “Dobby? You do magic all the time.”

“Not like a human.” Dobby stared up at her. “We does magic for the house and for chores –”

“But not for the same, everyday things that witches and wizards do.” Hermione nodded. The limitations of what a house-elf could and could not do were fascinating. Their Master or Mistress defined how much was allowed outside of the normal tasks house-elves were expected to take on. It was ironic that Lucius Malfoy himself had granted Dobby the power that the elf had turned against him – the power to protect children in general rather than his charge in particular. Dobby had been quite clever in realizing that Malfoy had failed to circumscribe his abilities as far as he probably should have.

Hermione stared at him and thought about all the things she hated about the Wizarding World, about the hypocrisy of fighting for freedom while the society she sought to protect employed a slave race.

“Dobby, if you work for me…” she took a deep breath. “If you or any other freed elf works for me, you will have the same rights and responsibilities as any human. The only thing I cannot grant you is the right to a wand – that is controlled by the Minsitry, but I swear to you, if it is within my power at all, I will fight for your right to carry one. If humans and elves can’t coexist as equals, we have no right to coexist at all.”

“Mistress realizes that freed elves could overwhelm humans?”

“Yes.”

“Mistress would sacrifice human magical beings to elf enslavement?”

“No.” Hermione shook her head. “I would fight the enslavement of any thinking being, magical or not.”

Dobby nodded. “Dobby will work for you.”

“Good. Um. Yes, that – that’s good.” Hermione nodded. “Although I’m not sure how I am going to pay you.”

“You is Harry Potter’s heir, Mistress. Dobby is thinking that there will be no shortage of galleons with which to pay him.”

Hermione sat down, sending up a puff of dust from the armchair. Dobby frowned.

“Mistress has inherited Kreacher.”

“Yes, indeed. He offered to take me to the keystones of the wards.”

Dobby snorted. “Mistress is not that stupid.”

“No,” she agreed. “I’m not.”

“Come,” said Dobby. “Dobby knows where the binding spells is.”

“Thank you, Dobby. I thought you might. We’ve got to get to it before Ron or the others think to look for me here.”

She followed him out to the hallway and the front entrance. Dobby pointed at what looked to be a small, rusted nail above the door.

“A drop of the Mistress’ blood, bound in iron, and you will control all.”

She thought about it. “Including the Fidelius?”

Dobby nodded.

“So be it, then.” She reached up and pricked her finger on the nail, letting her blood flow freely upon it. “As this was his, so it is mine. My will, my heart, my blood, my bone. From now until the end of time, its heart, its will, its shelter, my home. Semper Fi.”

“Dobby thinks that Mistress will find the house more congenial.”

“And Kreacher?”

Dobby nodded. “You is Mistress, mistress. All things in the house is bound to Mistress.”

She stared at him. Then she stared at the nail.

“For pity’s sake.” She shook her head. “Sirius never took full possession of the house and wards.”

Dobby shook his head. “Dobby doesn’t think so. House not happy that Dumbly make it obey, make Sirius obey. It should be happier now there is a proper Mistress.”

“Why would the Headmaster have done that? Wouldn’t it have been easier on all of us if Sirius had taken control of them?”

“Blood bindings show in the Ministry, Dobby thinks. His old master did things, bad things to be sure that no one could see when he spilled blood.”

“Blood magic registers at the Ministry. Oh, joy,” said Hermione. “They’ll know where to find me.”

Dobby grinned conspiratorially. “Not if Mistress gives her home a new name.”

With all due apologies to Robert Frost.

Date: 2006-02-04 12:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] joannindiw.livejournal.com
... and here I thought it would be impossible to do a sequel to In Principia

I can't wait for *more*.

*grins*

Date: 2006-02-04 12:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mightierthan.livejournal.com
Well, Hermione wants her story told. And Dudley (no, I haven't forgotten about him ;) I'm glad you liked it.

Date: 2006-02-04 12:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] abraxisdragon.livejournal.com
Yes!!! I have been waiting for this.

As you know from my comment on In Principia, I would hope that somehow, some way, Harry and Severus did not really die. I keep that hope because we all know that Hermione has had practice in diverting time and saving the innocently condemned.

But even if that hope isn't realized, I will be here to read of her revenge on the world that could do such an evil thing.

I think that Dobby is a wonderful addition to the cast. I always liked that little fellow.

Date: 2006-02-23 07:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rhiannonmr.livejournal.com
I actually found your LJ on hpfandom.net. I have enjoyed your writing for awhile but never left reviews(bad reader!!). Just wanted to say this looks interesting and I will keep looking for more of it. I do like your writing. And yes when I see your name I tend to go read. Thanks for posting this though. I hope Hermione gives the WW what for here.

Date: 2006-05-17 09:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] carnadosa.livejournal.com
Oh yessssss. Better watch out, baby's got a gun *sings*

*cough*

Yes, well, I'm unreasonably delighted you decided to go with a Hermione centric sequel. And while I've taken enough anthro and socs courses to know that kind of prejudice is built in and messy and complex on a social scale, it never fails to piss me off.

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