Miscalculations

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them.

I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

9th February 2013, Malfoy Manor

(Hermione Granger POV)

She watched fascinated as the woman effortlessly rescued her sister and started breaking the members of the ritual. She even blocked a Killing Curse, somehow. No, not blocked, she froze it in midair and returned it to its castor, Malfoy, killing him.

And the worst thing was the emptiness in her eyes as she did all of this. She just looked so bored, so apathetic to the misery that she was condemning these men and women into, even those who had protested Rose's kidnapping.

Things were getting too far; Hermione couldn't afford to let Jasmine kill the members of the Court, since the less they are, the less powerful the ritual will be. Steeling herself, Hermione reminded herself that the lives that she will take that day were for the greater good. They would be used to defeat a vicious monster, a true threat to the magical world, and it would bring her closer to her goal of an equal magical Britain.

Hermione Granger simply walked to the door and activated the ritual, confident that it represented a giant leap of progress in the magical world.

The Muggleborn witch held her breath as the ritual started taking place. She admits that she has very little knowledge of soul magics, and most of it was due to the Peverell Grimoire, whose writers seemed to be masters in the subject. She didn't know if her modification to the Peverell ritual could take place. It wasn't much, she just removed the summoning aspect of it, which happened to be the most complicated part. It was very impressive that they had found a way to summon anyone or anything using a small connection, and for something as powerful and old as Death itself, the name was more than enough to do so. Names have power, after all.

But at least the bindings should hold out against Potter without issues, should her calculations be correct. Hermione Granger looked at the mirror once more and relished in the screams of the members of the Court. It was beautiful to see first-hand the agony that these arrogant fools felt at this moment. She only wished that she could've been there to watch it in person.

The Court of Shadows was a good idea, and it was a shame to watch it be destroyed, but it was also made up of her most oppressive opponents. They looked down on her because of her birth, because of her ideas, that they called idiotic. No, Hermione was a revolutionary, and today was the day she conquered magical Britain.

All of her ambitions seemed to evaporate when she heard a familiar scream. She knew this sound, she had heard it throughout her education in Hogwarts, during her foolish adventures. This was Nathan, but that didn't make any sense. Nathan wasn't supposed to die, he wasn't supposed to have been affected by the ritual.

The ritual was supposed to be powered with the life force of the members of the Court, marked by their rings. She had used the enchantments on the rings as a reference for the ritual to target them. It was why Hermione had declined her invitation to this meeting, claiming to have fallen ill.

But Nathan wasn't a member of the Court of Shadows, not really. He was a puppet that they used to get to Rose, nothing more. Hermione knew for a fact that the only reason the Court even tolerated his tenure as the Minister for Magic, was because he could be easily manipulated, which was great for them to get more influence.

Hermione would be a hypocrite to condemn them since she had done the same. She had always tried to stop the Court from adding him as a member; they would chew him up and spit him out. Nathan had a good and gentle heart, but he was horrible at playing the game of politics and realizing how much power he truly holds in his hands.

The worst thing was that the ritual couldn't be stopped, couldn't be interrupted. It wasn't powered by her, so she couldn't stop it anytime soon, and going there would kill her like it did the members of the Court of Shadows.

The Muggleborn witch zoomed in and found that Nathan was wearing a familiar ring and was horrified by the sight. They shouldn't have given him a ring. Were they trying to recruit him as an unwilling member? She truly didn't know. He shouldn't even have been there. He was only supposed to dose his sister and deliver her, nothing more. He shouldn't have even stepped foot in the meeting.

In the end, she listened to Nathan's screams, watched as his skin burned and he was barely more than a pile of bone. By the end, she had tears in her eyes. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Nathan was her friend, her best friend, her first friend. For all his faults, he was the first person in this cursed world that truly cared about her. And now, he was dead, by her hand, no less.

Hermione didn't know how long she just stood there, eyes wide and watering, gaping at the scene she had caused. She had killed all these people, she had killed her own friend, for her ambitions, for her dream. She tried to center herself the best she could, but her heart ached at the thought of her recently deceased friend.

She imagined Tracy's reaction to this, his children, her nephew and niece, would be devastated by the news. No, she'll need to find a scapegoat to frame for her crimes. And lucky for her, there was one, bound in front of her. Jasmine Potter will take the fall for her crimes, and Hermione will do her best to lead Britain's magical community into a new golden age of equality. Her friend's sacrifice will not be in vain.

Speaking of Jasmine Potter, she was bound, unmoving for the past few minutes that Hermione needed to recollect herself and she would remain there until Hermione wished she would. The witch was hers to command, to use as a weapon against her inevitable enemies.

The Muggleborn witch walked towards the meeting room and opened the door. She gave the bound woman a smug smile, knowing that she had won, that true victory was barely a few steps over. She now ruled the government. She had spent months gathering her fellow Court members' contacts, legitimate or not. Hermione was ready to conquer magical Britain without anyone even noticing that it was happening.

Tom Riddle was a fool, one with delusions of power and godhood. You could never conquer a nation with just fear; the people would rebel. But if you do it slowly, without the terror and deaths, then they would either accept or they just wouldn't care.

Hermione looked at the bound witch, the next coming of Merlin and smirked, "You must be surprised to be in this position, to be bound to me, like nothing more than a house elf, serving my every will and desire. And what irony it is, that it was your ancestors that came up with the ritual that binds you now. What a sad fate for the second coming of Merlin, yet in a way, it is appropriate. You're nothing more than a brute with strong magics, but in the end, intelligence beats magic, don't you think?"

The woman didn't even speak. Ah, that is correct she cannot do anything without her permission, "You can speak, now."

Jasmine's face unfroze and she looked at her new Master, "What have you done?"

"I won. I found the Peverell Grimoire, with magics that even surpasses yours in power. I wonder if I have use for you anymore, now that I have what I need in the palm of my hand."

She was lying, of course, Jasmine Potter would be a perfect enforcer to her inevitable opposers. An assassin, an enemy to unite against should he wish to unite the magical world using the plan Dumbledore had devised with Tom Riddle.

No, the witch was too useful, too powerful for her to get rid of, now. She glared at her, "Was it worth it, killing all these people in such a horrible and painful way, just to find a way to bind me? You killed your own friend, for crying out loud. Yes, he was a sniveling worm of a man, but Nathan was your friend."

Hermione's heartbreak must have shown on her face, because the woman burst into laughter, "You didn't mean to, did you? Oh, this is precious. You killed the only person who valued you as a human being, the only person who trusted you unconditionally, just to get more power. What a great start to your reign, Hermione Granger, performing a massacre, enslaving a woman, and killing your only friend."

The Muggleborn witch didn't want to think about it. Yes, she had made mistakes, but it was for the greater good, to make sure that magical Britain moves forward to a more progressive path. For some reason, Hermione didn't feel like she had won, like she was the one in charge.

In the end, the Muggleborn responded by glaring at her captive and yelling out, "Shut up! I did not enjoy doing this, I did not enjoy killing them, but I had no choice. I did this for the people of magical Britain, for their joy and happiness, to live in a society free of discrimination, one based on equality and not privilege."

The woman gave her a vicious grin, "Are you sure about that? You just killed off the main financial and politically active men and women in the country. I was planning on making them have scandal after scandal until they are not even paupers, which would get someone else to rise in their place. But you, dear girl, just killed off, in a single day, the pillars that made up magical Britain, without a second thought. And don't lie to me, I can feel it inside you. You enjoyed hearing their screams, their painful groans, vindictive at the ways that they dismissed you and your ideas, at the way they kept looking down on you, like you were nothing more than a mere peasant."

Why were this woman's words rattling her so much, why did she not feel in control. She had won, she had killed her enemies, she had bound her only remaining threat. Nothing was in her way of conquering magical Britain and shaping it in her image, towards her dreams and ambitions.

Then why was she feeling so bad? Why did she feel like she had a large weight on her shoulders? Like her hands were stained in blood that she couldn't just wash off?

She retorted back, "I made sure to steal their contacts, I have the wealth of the Court at my side, from the treasury we use to hire mercenaries or buy out lands. I am ready to take over, to shape Magical Britain in my hands."

The bound woman didn't seem impressed, "That's smart. You've been planning this from the beginning, to get rid of both me and the Court. To be free of our manipulations and power and becoming the master of your own fate. You have succeeded in paving your way to power, now tell me, Hermione Granger, how do you feel with your hands being forever stained in blood? How do feel now that you realize the monster that you've become, killer of friends and foes alike."

"SHUT UP!"

"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 you, 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?"