Desperate Measures

Hermione returned back to the house at five to five on the second day of Ron's disappearance after she had met Tonks. She had alerted Dumbledore through the fireplace and details were starting to be finalised. They still had no idea where Ron was - though Hermione believed that the doorway in the corridor was a red herring. - She was much more interested in the cellar, which was made uncharacteristically of stone, and what little she could make out of the basement, was incredibly deep. - It was juxtaposed to the house which looked a few hundred years newer.

The house was clean and Hermione was about to start making some dinner when Anton stormed in with 'Second In Command' and Lucius Malfoy. Hermione was not impressed - but had to quickly remember that she was in disguise and Malfoy was probably too stupid to recognise her, and as someone who had never seen him before should not register a look of disgust on her face.

She knew then she would be taken to Voldemort. The look on 'Second In Command's' face was stiff, beyond cordial, as if bracing himself for a tragedy.

Lucius Malfoy greeted Hermione genially, kissing her hand briefly and moving his eyes up and down her trim figure. Hermione wished she had saved cleaning the toilet by Muggle means until she had arrived back at the house twenty minutes earlier - it would have given an interesting twist on this action. She looked up at Anton inquiringly who smirked at her.

"We are taking you up to our leader now. He has requested the pleasure of meeting you, as we were not supposed to take on staff without his permission. You must be on your best behaviour and not show us up. You must prove to be a satisfactory worker and beyond discrete - then you will be allowed to stay with us. - If not, your memory will be modified and you will be sent home," Anton said. - Not without a touch of pompousness and slimy delivery.

"Oh." The monosyllable Hermione omitted was squeaky and sounded nervous. She was trying to stay normal like she didn't know it was the dark wizard that had terrorised so many wizards and Muggles in the past twenty-five years.

"You had better cover yourself up a little better Miss Mercer. - Our leader does not believe in flaunting female sexuality." Lucius Malfoy suggestively intoned while leering at her body, paying attention to her legs. Hermione blushed but smiled inwardly that the Malfoy was ogling at a Muggle.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy - I will sort it out right now." Hermione then proceeded to pretend to search for her wand. "I think I have left my wand in my room - may I go and get it? I have no longer robes. I use this special charm for when I go and visit my mother - she doesn't like my clothes,"

"Mothers are over-protective." Smiled 'Second In Command' grimly, but as if he was trying to behave as normal.

Hermione nodded and smiled at the fatherly man and ran up stairs to 'grab her wand'. She went to her room and loosened and lengthened her robes down to a more conservative knee length. She then bounded down the stairs, about to take the arm of 'Second In Command' when Lucius' voice rang out:

"You're not going out dressed like that young lady!"

"Oh, is it still a bit too much?"

Anton and Lucius looked at each other. Anton spoke.

"Yes it is Emma - change it."

She looked sulkily at the men and then agreed to lengthen her robes to mid calf length. They gave her another look that demanded a longer length. Hermione sighed and let the robes down to her ankles. Malfoy finally looked satisfied with her appearance and led them all out of the house.

"The girl cannot Apparate Lucius," Anton sneered, giving Hermione a mocking glare.

"This is too much - first all that with her robes and now this! We are already late! Our Lord will be most displeased - he abhors tardiness. Why can you not Apparate girl?" He snapped angrily, his eyes were flashing, Hermione noted how much he looked like Draco even though he was many years older.

"I am not a very talented witch. I am not ready to take my test yet - it will take a little while,"

"Which bloodline do you belong to Miss Mercer?" Boomed Malfoy; almost expecting her to admit that she had Muggle parents.

"I come from the Mowbray bloodline - Its French - we are a very old wizarding family over in Normandy. Mercer is also an old wizarding family from Germany - as you must know Mr. Malfoy." Hermione stated, grateful for her holidays in Europe and meeting the wizards there. She hoped they wouldn't mind using their name and that Malfoy would be impressed with that. Pureblood connections were everything.

"Very well Miss Mercer- but what are we going to do?" He was put out by Hermione's powerful connections and how he really didn't want to fall out of favour with his master - staying his right hand man was essential to his survival and respectability.

"I'll hold her as we Apparate. - She refuses to go anywhere by floo," growled Anton, giving Hermione a venomous look that she refused to let scare her even though she was a little spooked at its intensity.

"Difficult little thing isn't she?" Malfoy fumed. Hermione was getting nervous, maybe it was time to be scared....

"Yes. Come here Emma! Hold onto me!" Anton barked angrily, holding onto her waist tighter than necessary to show he was not impressed.

"Yes sir."

"Ready?"

The small group Apparated to Voldemort's hideout, leaving 'Second In Command' to carry out Hermione's planned meal for the other Death Eaters.

***

It was a dark place, the old Riddle house. It had been magically improved and secured beyond belief. Voldemort had been staying there. He did not care much for the place, but finding a new one was too much trouble and that fool Dumbledore and his pathetic little army would never suspect that he would come to dwell in the house he hated and had hidden previously.

The house, although dark was moderately furnished with a few aged pieces of furniture and none of the colours in the drawing room coordinated. It was a green chair here and a dirty grey chair over there and a faded red leather armchair in the corner. Hermione could see it at the end of the hallway as she passed the dining room, viewing the long wooden table and at least twenty mismatching chairs - probably for 'civilised' meetings if there were such a thing.

Malfoy made the group stop two metres away from the door and went to the door and shyly tapped on the door and uttered something in a low voice that Hermione could not pick up. Peter Pettigrew answered the door and they talked in hushed voices for a few brief moments - then Pettigrew looked Hermione up and down, nodded and stepped aside to let them in. Hermione had been preparing her mind to close to face Voldemort. She also had to arrange her face from disgust to neutral - she had never seen Peter Pettigrew before - the man who had betrayed one of her best friend's parents - had handed them over to his evil employer and killed them, leaving Harry in the care of incompetent Muggles who tried to abuse him to leave him with no magic left.

She tried to fill her mind with insignificant thoughts as she turned to face Voldemort - she would have to look at him in fear as she would have been brought up to be frightened of this monster and what he might do. She saw in the corner of her eye, Anton, Crabbe and Malfoy shifting uncomfortably in the corner - they obviously thought that she would not survive the night. Peter Pettigrew was tending to a figure in an armchair that was turned away so she could not see the occupant.

'Typical evil - it's a swivel chair - why doesn't he just get a white cat and suck on his little finger,' Hermione thought belligerently. She gave her mind the final tap on the lid to lock her thoughts as the chair moved round to reveal this dictator and she would look him in the face.

***

In all honesty, compared to some of the Muggle films she had seen, Voldemort was nothing special - he did look forbidding and those eyes were freaky and she didn't like looking at him - but it wasn't unbearable....

"I see you do not recoil in fear at the sight of me," Voldemort stated. His voice high pitched. Hermione looked rather uncomfortable - was he going to get insecure and curse her into oblivion? She hoped not, well not before they freed Ron - they could do what the hell they liked with her after that.

"Well Sir, I have seen many things - I have witnessed operations from my time at St Mungo's when I worked there briefly as a medi-witch. You make me nervous, uncomfortable - but I have learned to control my facial expressions - it does not bode well when you are with a patient." Hermione knew she had never told Anton that - but the quick thinking caused her to open up about another part of her 'life' as Emma Mercer.

"Yes of course. You shall address me as Master from now on Miss Mercer."

"Of course Master." Hermione was now terrified and began to shake with fear. She didn't know where this meeting was headed....

"Very good. Anton! I thought you said the girl was stupid!" Voldemort raved.

Anton stepped forward. "She is Master, she picks up nothing of our activities and she asks no questions. She is stupid because she cannot perform basic spells and cannot Apparate despite being twenty two."

"There is no shame in that Anton. Crucio! You fool! Can you not see the girl is more intelligent than she has let on?" Voldemort was roaring with anger at one of his trusted servants. Anton writhed and screamed in his agony. Hermione looked shocked at Voldemort's speed in deciding to punish. It could be her next. He used his wand to turn her head to face him. Hermione shivered.

"You are not a talented witch. I can see that - but you are resourceful and willing to learn. That is a quality that I want to have in my followers. Talent as a witch or wizard is important yes - but determination and surviving on your brains will also get you through - Look at Malfoy."

"Yes Master."

Voldemort started at her with his snake-like red eyes. They appeared to bore into her, search into her soul. But, she held her ground, kept all Snape had taught her, especially when facing the Dark Lord and recounted false memories and thoughts of other things. It was getting harder as he penetrated into her face, but he nodded and seemed satisfied with her mind. She was most certainly Emma Mercer, a pureblood from the families of Mowbray and Mercer - European blood - passionate and a beautiful young woman with more intelligence than actual talent - yes, his Death Eaters could do with someone like her around. His voice dropped to a lower, more persuasive octave, though still relatively high pitched. He let his voice hypnotise, flowing in an easy legato.

"If I find Miss Mercer, that you have been unfaithful to this group. I will kill you myself. - Do you understand me? I normally would have subjected you to Cruciatus but since I have no reservations about you and I will not hurt a woman unnecessarily and you have been most obliging - I will spare you. Wormtail! Send our visitors out! Lucius - stay! I wish to talk to you concerning Weasley." Voldemort commanded. His voice had that fragmented, dissonant quality that he had originally used at the beginning of the meeting, the smooth tone he had used to try and charm Hermione and put her in thrall now gone, like it had never existed. Wormtail approached them less nervously, and ushered them out, shutting the door behind him as he returned to his master.

And that was the end of the meeting. Hermione's heart was pumping furiously, if she could just have slowly walked out or if they had been talking a little louder. But all Hermione heard was: 'Under the house.' Hermione was triumphant in gaining a piece of knowledge like that that may be a clue or a trap. She would have to owl The Order straight away to tell them this - but doing so would cause suspicion. She could only hope that they would spare Ron for a little longer until they could get to him.

Hermione was also surprised that he had been so trusting and willing to let a new person in. But his legilimens skills could definitely do with a brush up. But she breathed a sigh of relief that she had survived and smiled as she was led out of the house and held again by Anton too tightly as they Apparated back to the house.

***

'Second In Command' hadn't done too bad a job with the meal that Hermione had left him to cook. It was piping hot and not burned. The Death Eaters pushed the food into their mouths hungrily as there had been a bit more of a wait than usual because 'Second In Command' had been rather slow at preparing it. Hermione was hungry after meeting Voldemort and gratefully ate what had been provided for her. It was comforting to say in the least there wasn't that to look after when she had such a shock.

Anton looked like he had been ruffled. He moved stiffly and winced as he moved his body beyond small, restricted movements. He glared at Hermione through out the meal - he wasn't as young as he once was and being put under Cruciatus was quite a strain on his ageing body. Hermione would swear she had seen wrinkles and grey hairs that she had not seen that morning.

But after they had eaten, they gathered around the table and started to discuss the meeting between Hermione and Voldemort. Many were surprise that she had escaped without a scratch on her and hadn't been subjected to crucio like Anton had been. Hermione apologised to Anton, but he looked unmoved. He would have kicked her out but the food was too good and the others would never forgive him. He resolved to hurt her in a way that she could never forgive him for. He made his first rough plans for prolonged exposure to crucio just to see her suffer as he had. She was not going to get away humiliating him like that and putting him out of favour with his master....

They settled down for the evening. Some were reading books that they would not reveal to her their title or content. The books looked like they may have been concentrating on the dark arts.

Hermione started a game of cards with 'Second In Command' and a few others. She taught them how to play gin, as poker was not fun as they were betting galleons and she was broke.

A few games in and they were starting to get the hang of it. It wasn't turning out to be a bad evening. Hermione was wondering how playing cards with these men were going to direct her to Ron. They weren't going to take her aside and admit that they were imprisoning a young man and torturing him. She would have to covertly have to let them slip clue out about what they really did. Her heart was aching the whole time. He couldn't be alive for much longer....

If she had known that communication between Voldemort and those assigned to torture Weasley had been shaky and that they were taking their time to shake him up good and proper to make him spill details on Harry Potter, Hermione may not have been so worried. Ron had been unconscious for the first thirty-six hours of his abduction. The Death Eaters were in no hurry and locating truth potion had not been an easy task. They knew the Weasley boy was loyal and stubborn - beating the truth out wouldn't work. The only stuff they located was three hundred miles away with the unreliable Severus Snape and wouldn't be delivered until the following day. - They would starve Ron and humiliate him, mess with his head until then. It would take as long as it took to get the information and the angles the Ministry had been sharing with The Daily Prophet were so far off the truth of Ron's disappearance - that they felt comfortable with the time they were taking with him. And Potter wouldn't be so stupid as to try and save him - he would most certainly be killed.

The not knowing was driving Hermione mad. She could only wonder what pain the Weasley family were going through and her heart felt rung through the mangle whenever she thought of them, trying to hold strong together for each other's sakes. They were such a close family - it hurt to see them so defeated.

The tapping on the window was getting quite annoying. Hermione looked up and saw a tawny owl trying to peck the window indignantly with its beak - it was obviously not used to being ignored. She managed to get to the window after she put down the winning hand of cards and let the owl in. His feathers were cold to the touch and Hermione felt bad letting him wait outside in the cold for so long. She handed him a few treats from a bowl on the table that they used for incoming owls. The note was addressed to 'Emma' so she opened it with shaking hands - fearing Voldemort had requested to see her again. - He was not satisfied with her conduct or something. Instead the letter said:

Emma

Have fallen over in the bath, am in great agony, please come now and help.

Nan.

Hermione knew this meant that they either had vital news for her or had found out that she had seen Voldemort that day. She tore out of her seat, leaving some very confused men. She had to be worried- her grandmother was hurt and needed her assistance. She sought out Anton who was authorising her leave, but he was absent. 'Second In Command' asked her what the fuss was. Hermione recounted with an urgent, shaky voice that she had to leave immediately and he granted permission with concern on his face.

He decided to Apparate and take Hermione with him so that they would get there as soon as possible to come to the old woman's aid. Hermione almost felt bad that she was screwing him over so bad - he seemed like such a nice guy, for a Death Eater anyway.

Hermione waved him off because 'you don't want to witness - it's a rather nasty mission - and Nan wouldn't have a man present - I'll walk back.' 'Second In Command' gave an understanding nod and Disapparated with a meek pop.

Hermione then rushed into the house to meet with members of The Order who were overseeing this. They gravely surveyed her and at first Hermione feared the worst- that Ron had been killed. But Dumbledore looked at her indecently short robes and said:

"My poor dear - what have we got you into?"