Inell's Fanfiction Archive

The realization that Voldemort had arranged every detail of the Potter’s deaths in such a way that it would also destroy Sirius Black was nauseating. The very idea of someone hating anything so much that he plotted a way to hurt as many of his enemies as possible just disgusted her. How could anyone hate people they didn’t even know? Hermione wasn’t unaware of power and manipulation. She was fourteen, after all, and had spent her years prior to Hogwarts often reading her father’s texts on history.

Her father had a keen interest in military events so she had a rough understanding of how war worked and the knowledge that only a few people actually had control and power. Everyone else, the soldiers and medical personnel, they simply followed orders. There was always somebody giving the orders, however, and that person could easily become intoxicated by the power and lose sight of everything else.

She read the texts from the library on the Grindewald war and the Voldemort war because she knew that history had a way of repeating itself. Stories were whispered about Voldemort and she listened intently. If he were a threat again one day, they needed to understand him to fight him. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. That thought stayed in her mind as she read the texts.

Voldemort was formidable. He was intelligent, rarely made mistakes, ruthless and focused, and he loved power. It was the latter that had eventually led to his downfall, she believed. If one loses sight of anything but their own supremacy, they are not prepared for something as pure as faith and love, cannot properly battle those who have nothing but a belief they are right and are willing to risk their lives for those beliefs, and being caught unaware can lead to defeat.

It was thinking such thoughts that made her look at the other side, too; at their side, if you will. Where Voldemort controlled and manipulated his followers, she had to wonder if Dumbledore had done the same. He was always ready with an encouraging smile and a lemon drop, but was that merely a façade for a cunning man who craved power and control, just possibly not in the same way as Voldemort? She hated doubting their headmaster, but she had learned nothing from Sirius Black’s story if she didn’t realize that trust was important and often misplaced.

If the threat from Voldemort became real, if Harry’s life was in more danger than it was currently, he needed her to be suspicious. Harry was far too trusting in this world and looked up to Dumbledore in a way that would make him easily manipulated if the Headmaster had such a thirst for power. Hermione would have to make sure Harry stayed safe and didn’t trust the wrong person like his parents had done in the past.

With her and Ron by his side, he would defeat any threat. She was certain of that in a way that was similar to knowing the sky was blue and that snow was cold. She would study the texts available and learn the mind of a madman if necessary to give Harry an advantage over Voldemort or anyone else that tried to manipulate him. If he listened to her guidance and allowed her and Ron to support him, he would persevere.

Voldemort had used a close friend against the Potters and against Sirius Black. He might make such an attempt against Harry if he did, indeed, rise again as the whispers hinted. It might prove pointless to worry about something that might never happen. Harry wasn’t that concerned and Ron certainly seemed to give it no thought, but that was her purpose: to think of things neither of them ever would.

Harry did not need to know that she had often used her time turner this year to search the library for historical reports from the Voldemort war or that she had a notebook full of attack strategies that he had used at one time. He’d just worry that she was overreacting to the possibility of danger despite what happened last year, when she had spent months frozen in the hospital ward because of one of Voldemort’s cunning schemes. Harry didn’t need the worry of such things until it became a reality.

Meanwhile, she would continue her research secretly. If nothing else, she had a love for history and war so it was enjoyable to read how the wizarding world compared to the Muggle world when it came to such matters. The knowledge that power corrupted regardless of magic and blood was somewhat comforting because it was a weakness, and a weakness could always be used against someone.

Of course, Harry had a stronger weakness because he loved. That meant, like his parents, there were people close to him that could be used against him, either in manipulation by Harry’s enemies or in their loss hurting him in a way a simple hex never could. It was also a strength, though, so she hoped he never lost sight of what was truly important.

There was a part of her that hoped she was being paranoid. She had a horrible habit of becoming obsessed with projects and losing focus on other things so it was possible that this was another such endeavor. It was disturbing to study the mind of the man who had once been Tom Riddle and to see through the information she could gather how he had changed. His growth from a student at Hogwarts into a manipulative power-hungry madman was frightening, in a way. Even worse was the knowledge that the use of madman was inaccurate because he was far too intelligent and cunning to truly be mad.

It was probably silly to worry about Harry having to face such an enemy. Still, she would do her research and be prepared just in case. Everyone said that Voldemort was well and truly gone, that he’d not rise again like something from a horror novel, and that it was all over that fateful night in October so many years ago. It would be so easy to believe that everyone was right.

However, Hermione knew from years of reading war history that there were many times that everyone had been wrong.

The End