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The Prisoner	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 63579 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Codes: BDSM.

Author's note: I thank everyone who read, rated and reviewed: Lady Miya, Elisa, m0nt, IrishPhantom, FlyHitsWindow, SarahLuvsZombehs.

Review replies can be found at: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/19576-the-prisoner-by-nerys/

xxx

With thanks to my lovely betas: Serpent In Red and Cosettex.

xxx

The Prisoner

Chapter 11: Surprise

When she walked up the road towards the Burrow's entrance, she found Harry sitting on the rusty, iron gate in deep thought.

'Eh, you!' she exclaimed, surprised. 'Why aren't you inside?'

He looked up and smiled when he saw her. 'Waiting for Ginny,' he explained, standing up. 'Besides, I think something just exploded in there; the whole ground shook.'

'So George's already in.'

Harry chuckled. 'That's probably a safe bet.'

Before she could stop him, he grabbed a hold of her and kissed her on both cheeks. However, unlike with Neville, nothing occurred and she relaxed.

'It's good to see you again, Hermione.'

He held her a bit longer than propriety allowed, and she got concerned. 'Is something wrong?' she asked, leaning back and scrutinising his face for signs of trouble.

'You tell me,' he replied, giving her a knowing look.

Hermione sighed and pulled out of his arms, turning around to lean against the iron gate, too. 'What did Ron complain about this time?'

'Nothing, it's exactly that. It's what you both aren't saying. Hermione, Ginny and I aren't blind.'

They sat there in silence for a while. This was exactly what she'd always liked about Harry. He could take a hint and not pester her for information, unlike some other people she knew. He gave her time to think. It was always familiar and comfortable, being with Harry.

'I'm going to tell Ron we should spend some time apart after the party tonight.'

Harry let out a long breath. 'That's not going to go over well.'

'Exactly why I'm telling him afterwards. I don't want to screw up Molly's joy at getting the whole family together for once,' she explained with a sigh, turning to look at the crooked house in the distance with nostalgia. 'I'm going to miss this place,' she muttered. 'I basically spent my childhood here. It's strange to think this will be the last time I'm going to set foot in there.'

'You're always welcome at my house,' Harry said, taking her hand and squeezing it.

'You're married to his sister, Harry. We both know how this is going to turn out.'

'Yeah, with Ginny hexing Ron everywhere she can for destroying his marriage and hurting you,' Harry replied, giving her a wink. 'She already wasn't amused when she noticed his ring at the office today, told him off for thinking for a second that thing fooled anyone, especially you.'

Hermione snorted. There were moments when Ginny reminded her a lot of Mrs Weasley. To be honest, she wouldn't put it past Ginny to really curse Ron, but he was still her brother. In the end, family would come first.

'It was a pretty bad Transfiguration,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'I really didn't know what to say.'

'He did search for his real ring for a long time,' Harry explained, trying to lift some of the blame off Ron. 'Practically destroyed the drainage system in the Auror shower rooms. If I hadn't told him to stop, we might not have had indoor plumbing anymore at the Ministry with the way he was sending spells down the drains.'

'I wonder if he wanted to get caught with it,' she added, furrowing her brow as the thought suddenly hit her. 'He's not that bad at Transfiguration, and you got plenty of Transfiguration Masters on staff who could've made him a perfect copy, right?'

'I don't know what he was thinking,' Harry said uncomfortably, ruffling through his hair with his hand. 'Maybe he subconsciously wanted a row so you two would at least communicate for once?'

'Yeah, well, it doesn't really matter anymore, does it?' she pondered rhetorically. 'We should never have got married. I can't believe I didn't see that before. What was I thinking?' She tossed her hands in the air and exhaled in irritation. 'I ruined everything, especially our friendship, and you warned me. You saw that we, as a couple, weren't a good idea. Why didn't I listen to you back then?'

Harry shrugged. 'Maybe because you were too much in love and couldn't see straight,' he answered gently. 'I know I never saw Ginny's flaws until we were well into our second year of marriage.'

'But you two are happy, right?'

'Yes.'

'How do you two do that? I mean with everything that happened. Doesn't it come back to haunt you and her?'

'Ginny and I have a lot more in common than you and Ron, Hermione. We want the same thing out of life. We have the same hobbies. Hell, she made it her job. I am jealous,' he joked, chuckling. 'I'm not living in the past; I'd go nuts if I did. One time was more than enough, thanks.'

'Yeah, I suppose.'

'You need someone more suited for you,' he said thoughtfully. 'Someone who is more interested in moving forward and investigating intellectual subjects, someone who can keep up with you in a debate, someone a bit more intense and ambitious than Ron and not so unsure of himself that he'd hold you back, or at least, that's how I see it,' he added the latter apologetically as if it were his fault their marriage was failing.

Uncomfortably, Hermione shifted on the gate. The description had been a bit too fitting for her taste.

'I take it there isn't any chance of you two working things out?'

'No,' she said shortly. It was out of the question.

'Does the past haunt you and Ron?' Harry asked carefully after a moment of silence.

'He ran, Harry. He packed up his things and left us, right smack in the middle of the war,' she said, tight-lipped.

'It was the Hor—'

'If I hear that lame excuse one more time, I'm going to scream,' she hissed.

'You and I weren't exactly a joy to be around while we wore that thing either.'

'So that makes it okay for him to leave, because we were cranky?'

'No,' Harry said hastily. 'I meant that the locket affected us all. Not just Ron. I couldn't even cast a Patronus anymore with all the hatred he brought up inside of me, and I recall you turned awfully quiet whenever you had it on. You never shared why that was, too, by the way.'

There was a slight twitch in her face at the memory.

'You can't even say it, can you?'

'You'll laugh.'

Harry let out garbled noise that was anything but a happy sound. 'I don't think I'll ever find anything he did amusing.'

'Not even trying to Avada you for the hundredth time?' she joked, trying to change the mood by bringing up a 'lighter' subject.

Harry snorted.

'You'd think that after the first ninety-nine, he'd have the intelligence to try something different. But he sure is persistent, I'll grant him that. Must love the saying: If at first you don't succeed, try again and again and again and again,' she said, rolling her eyes tiresomely before glancing out of the corner of her eye to see Harry doing his best to hold in his laughter. 'And look at you,' she continued in an overly disparaging tone of voice, gesturing up and down his body whilst he chortled, 'I can't see what the problem is. Such a scrawny, tiny, bespectacled fellow. One blow to the head with that posh snake cane of Malfoy would've done the trick.'

'Oye! You so aren't killing me with anything Malfoy-related,' Harry objected in fake indignation.

'So am,' she teased.

'Besides, any plans to kill me with that sissy thing went burst after he broke it,' Harry said, glancing in her direction expectantly.

He wasn't disappointed. When she met his green eyes, her lip twitched. Then, her shoulders shook, and finally, they both burst out into a roaring fit of laughter.

'Ca-can you imagine the look on Lucius's face?' Hermione asked, cracking up.

'I'd have paid good money to see that,' Harry said, guffawing. 'Actually … I could have if a certain someone hadn't insisted I needed to shut him out all the time.'

'Oh, like you were actually trying,' she scoffed.

'If it weren't for you, we could've had a Pensieve Party tonight, watching that over and over again. I might have even been able to sell the memory on, become rich, never having to work for the rest of my life.'

'Yeah, poor, destitute Harry James Potter,' Hermione mocked.

'Finally she feels sorry for me. It's about time.' Harry laughed when she smacked his arm in reaction. 'You know, since you ruined my chances at lucrative Memory Dealing, you could slip me some cash after you get your new paycheck.'

Hermione gaped at him. 'How do you know I got a promotion? I just heard it this morning.'

'Head of the Auror Department,' Harry replied, patting his chest smugly. 'I have my sources.'

'Lemme guess: tall, bald, broad-shouldered and wearing one gold earring, going by the title Minister for Magic these days.'

'Maybe it is, maybe it isn't,' Harry replied lightly.

'Bunch of gossipers you lot are.'

'Our lot?'

'Aurors, always yapping away.'

'At least we're not trying to appear overly important by using the phrase "I cannot speak of it" every single time something comes up.'

Hermione stuck out her tongue at him.

'Oooh, look at me, I'm a mysterious Unspeakable. You know I must be doing something really, REALLY important,' Harry mocked. 'Pah! I'm betting all you lot do the entire day is play cards.'

'Projecting now, are we?' she teased.

'Or maybe you catch up on your sleep in your offices. Class A Snoozer. Yep, that must be it. I always knew you were a true government employee.'

'Oh, go eat a donut.'

'So, how was your day?' Harry asked teasingly.

Hermione just glared at him in reaction while he burst out in laughter at her silence.

'And yours?'

'Oh pretty interesting. Sat in a couple of administrative meetings, got my Aurors to catch a few bad guys, assisted the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to direct some trolls out of a Muggle area unseen—you should see the paperwork for that one. It's humongous,' Harry added inconsequentially. 'And I sat in on the interrogation of Hogan Rumsfield.'

Rumsfield. Hermione's alert level went up a notch. 'You sat in on an interrogation? Why?'

Harry frowned. 'Because I had, well, have a bad feeling about this bloke. Can't prove it though; his story is airtight, and there is nothing in his past that suggests any allegiance to Voldemort.'

'What did he do?'

'Well, we got the tip from Katie that he wasn't maintaining the ward he was paid to maintain, and she was right.'

'You got a tip from a snoring Unspeakable? Oh noes!' Hermione replied, clutching to her chest in mock shock.

Harry laughed. 'Okay, okay, I'll take it back. One of you is awake down there.'

'Fine,' she huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 'I'll remember this.'

'I'm sure you will,' he replied, amused.

'You think this bloke's a Death Eater that escaped the Ministry's attention?'

'Don't you?' he countered. 'I mean, sure, we don't have any evidence, and yes, he has no marks on his body indicating he is, but not keeping a ward on Voldemort's cell … why else if he is not a sympathizer?'

Hermione shrugged. 'Some people are just lazy or stupid or both.'

'It's not a difficult or even time-consuming job to keep the ward up,' Harry continued. 'It made him good money, so why risk that income to save ten minutes of work a day?' He sighed. 'I just don't trust his lame excuse of finding the ward's presence bullocks.'

'Did you check his environment?'

'Of course,' Harry replied. 'His entire family is clean; his friends are; his ex-friends; his ex-girlfriends; his ex-ex-ex-ex-exes are; I'm betting if we checked his pets, they'd end up clean as well.'

'No connections to Voldemort whatsoever, anywhere?' Hermione asked, baffled.

'None. Nobody fought or supported him. There aren't even any bad rumours about the family in relation to this. And you know how much people love to badmouth others. It's like someone out there is cleaning up after them, squashing any rumours before they come to fruition.'

'Isn't Rumsfield a pure-blood?'

'Father half-blood married to a pure-blood witch.'

'And not a single connection anywhere in the family?'

'Yes.'

'I take it Veritaserum was administered?'

'No, it's useless. He swallowed the antidote at some point in his life.'

'Legilimency then?' she asked.

'Gets us running into a perfect wall.'

'I see why you're suspicious,' Hermione said, worrying on her lower lip. 'With those precautions in place and not having even one black sheep in the family, it's all a bit too neat.'

'Exactly what I was thinking,' Harry said, turning to her as he seemed glad to have found a receptive sounding board. 'Someone engineered this to be so. Hell, there are even rumours that I secretly support Voldemort. So how come there are none for the Rumsfields? And if we're right that this is the case for him, who is to say there aren't more out there like Rumsfield?'

Hermione blinked, furrowing her brow as she recalled his words.

I would've been disappointed if you hadn't.

'Oh clever,' she said with a moan, 'very, very clever.'

She could just hit her stupid head against the nearest hard object for not realising this beforehand.

'What is?'

'Don't you see it, Harry, see where this inevitably leads us? Paranoia. That's what he is going for. Why else show someone that he can open that blasted door? Oh, that's brilliant, just brilliant,' she groaned.

'I never said how Katie knew,' Harry said, staring at her quietly.

Oh fuck! Brilliant indeed, Hermione.

'Hermione?' Harry asked urgently.

'Could you forget what I just said?' she asked, giving him a pleading expression.

'I'm going to kill Katie,' Harry said, pushing away from the gate and pacing to and fro furiously. 'First, she comes to me with those blasted scrolls, hoping I can translate the damn things. Second, I tell her it's pointless to go to Riddle because no way is he going to give her the true translation. I warned her he'd just have a field day making everyone jump through a million hoops to get it while keeping the important information to himself in the end, and then, she decides to ignore everything I said and sends my best friend to him! I'll have her head on a platter.'

'No,' Hermione said firmly, blocking his path and grabbing a hold of him. 'No, you're going to calm down and not stick yourself in my business. You do your job and I'll do mine.'

'It's my job to protect British citizens, meaning you, from him,' Harry objected, his jaw set.

'Harry,' Hermione said warningly, 'I love my job … a lot. Please don't screw it up for me?'

His shoulders dropped, and he shook his head. 'I don't want to but—'

'Harry, please don't get involved in this. Please, please, please, trust me.'

'It's not that I don't trust you, Hermione. You know that. It's …' he sighed. 'At least tell me you're not going back there.'

She tilted her head and looked at him with a smile. 'It's like what you said, Harry. He's not translating the scrolls.'

Harry let out a relieved sigh and gave her a hug. As he walked back to the gate and settled back down on it, he asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, 'Did he freak you out when he opened the door?'

'There is no reason to look so entertained by it,' she replied scornfully.

'Oh, oh, did you give him a Hermione Granger lecture on how it was NOT supposed to be able to open for him?' Harry asked hopefully, a chuckle breaking through his composure.

She tossed her hands in the air in resignation.

'Oh, you did, didn't you?' Now, he was really guffawing, clutching to his belly. 'You scolded Lord Voldemort,' Harry added in between roars of laughter. 'Would've loved to seen the look on his face.'

Hermione pressed her lips firmly together, trying to stop her laughter from bubbling to the surface.

Crack!

'Hi, Hermione ... Harry?' Ginny questioned, staring at her laughing husband bemused. 'What's so funny?'

'Hermione is,' he answered, pulling his wife in his arms and kissing her on the lips. 'What took you so long? I thought you had to submit your interview with the new Harpies' Beater before five.'

'I had to, but Milly walked with me to the paper and kept asking me about the baby and when we were due and if I'd return to the competition afterwards. Godric, she was really annoying. I couldn't shake her politely at all. I am afraid I had to be quite rude in the end in order to dump her and come here. She might've tagged along otherwise.' Ginny shivered before turning her attention to Hermione. 'Speaking of tagging along, where is your useless husband?'

In jail.

'Ron's inside,' Harry answered.

'I had some work that needed finishing before I could make it here,' Hermione elaborated.

'Ah,' Ginny said, giving Harry a knowing look. 'Well, maybe we should go indoors then, too. It's freaking cold out here, and I need to pee. Again.'

'You are getting rather big,' Hermione said bluntly as they moved to the house.

'I know. Horrible, isn't it? With James, it wasn't nearly this bad, and I am not doing anything different.'

'You look wonderful, honey,' Harry said, shaking his head at Hermione behind Ginny's back.

'Oh yeah, just wonderful. I am a freaking whale. I swear if Albus isn't coming out soon, I'm going to magically yank him out,' Ginny grumbled. 'And don't be signalling to Hermione on what NOT to do or say, Harry James Potter. I'm pregnant, not stupid.'

'Ouch,' Hermione mouthed to Harry.

'Yes, major mood swings, beware,' he whispered.

'I am not deaf either,' Ginny called out, swinging open the door to the busy kitchen. 'Hi, Mum. We're here. I'd love to kiss and hug and say hello to everyone, but I'll be on the loo.' She waggled right on, ignoring the buzz in the room.

'Oye, Dad, did you get that new, extra sturdy toilet yet?' George shouted, receiving a slap on the back of his head from Angelina in reaction.

'Mummy, Daddy, I help Granny cook!' James yelled, running towards them.

'Really?' Harry said, sounding impressed as he scooped up James from the floor to allow Ginny a free path. 'Why don't you show me what you did then, and we can impress Mummy when she gets back.'

'YAY! Go there!' James said, pointing to the stove when he suddenly saw Hermione over his father's shoulder. 'Auntie Hermy, I made pie.'

'That's impressive,' Hermione replied, smiling. 'What kind of pie?'

'Er …' James looked to the ceiling, thinking hard.

'Apple, right, honey?' Molly answered, wiping her hands on her apron before welcoming Harry and Hermione.

'Yep, apple,' James repeated proudly. 'Look, look,' he pointed down to the oven.

'I see it,' Harry said. 'That looks tasty. Did you do all that?'

James nodded vigorously. 'I put in all the apples.'

'He was a really big help,' Molly said, kissing James's forehead.

'Auntie Hermy has to look, too!'

'I will, I will,' Hermione said, wiggling past them and checking out the contents of the oven, too. 'Oooh, that smells yummy,' she complimented.

James's face brightened further.

'Hermione!' Percy called out, patting on the seat next to him. 'I saw the paper on Kingsley's desk. We have to talk.'

Merlin, not another cauldron bottoms filled evening, please.

However, she noticed the only free seats were available nearby Percy. Apparently, Harry and Ginny were going to suffer with her. Ron was sitting at the other end of the table, briefly waving at her while chatting to Bill.

Fine, don't save me a seat. What else is new? she thought sarcastically. It's probably for the best anyway.

She plunked down next to Percy.

'Hello, Percy, Penelope, long time no see,' she said, looking past Percy and shaking the outstretched hand of his girlfriend. 'Talk about what?'

'Your promotion of course,' Percy said, puffing out his chest.

This was going to be a long evening.

xxx

Silence, blissful silence, Hermione thought as Ginny walked back inside with Harry. She stretched out her arms and legs, lying comfortably on a blanket in the garden at the Burrow while all around her flames nipped at the cold, winter air. Pots, crates, bowls and even a couple of vases in different sizes and colours played host to those magical flames, boosting the temperature up to degrees most UK summers didn't reach. Her head lay on her thick, woollen jumper, using it as a pillow. Yet, even though she wore only her sleeveless undershirt now, she was still perspiring. Hermione closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of relaxation to the fullest.

It was getting closer and closer to that moment that she dreaded: the moment when she would have to tell Ron that she wanted a divorce. Only a dessert stood in her way now, and then, they'd be going home, where she'd have to talk to him. She couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. It had to be done. Considering what happened to Neville, she'd been lucky they hadn't seen each other a lot these past few days. Ron had been working several double shifts to fill in for an injured colleague. However, that colleague was back now, so her chances of avoiding physical contact with Ron were getting slimmer and slimmer. Still, she wasn't looking forward to the talk, so she enjoyed the peace and quietness for as long as it lasted. A soft, rustling noise reached her ears and Hermione turned her head towards the nearby bushes. There, over the uneven ground, a small grass snake moved about, slithering towards her.

'Hello there,' Hermione said, sitting up. 'You shouldn't be out and about, poor thing. It's still winter. I suppose the heat confused you?'

The snake hissed softly as if understanding what she'd said.

Hermione raised her eyebrows when it came right at her. Her knowledge of snakes was limited, but she recalled perfectly well this species was supposed to be rather wary and shy of contact with humans. Fortunately, she also recalled it was harmless. So, when its tongue flickered out and touched her hand, she merely chuckled and stroked its head.

'I'm a bit too big for you to eat, and since it's not spring, I am afraid there won't be much food for you above ground now,' she explained, watching it raise its head and move up her lap.

There it curled around, folding itself into a tight ball.

'Fiiiine, don't mind me. Just make yourself comfortable. Must be a snake thing,' she said sarcastically.

'Hermione, Mum's aski— Blimey! There is a snake in your lap,' Ron said, staring at it wide-eyed.

'I know. I think the fire pots attracted it. It must think it's spring already and wandered out of the underground gnome corridors,' Hermione said, stroking the snake's head.

Ron stared anxiously at the ground underneath his feet. 'You think it came out from there?'

'Probably,' she replied, shrugging. 'It needs food in the winter, and you have quite a large gnome population living underground. I'll bet there is a huge number of grass snakes here, too.'

'You think there are more of them?' Ron squeaked.

'It's not a spider, Ron.'

'I know but— Watch out, it's moving.'

'Oh,' Hermione looked down, while the snake rested its head against her stomach. 'It's just trying to get comfortable. Don't worry, grass snakes aren't venomous. And this is a sweet, little one, aren't you?' She petted the snake softly. 'You got to feel this, Ron. It's amazing. I never petted a snake before.'

'Ermm… well, I—I—' He shuffled his feet.

'Come on, it's harmless. Can't you see that? I wonder if it's been someone's pet. It's so comfortable around humans.'

'But—but isn't stroking that rather slimy?' he asked, screwing up his nose.

'No, it feels like … like soft leather, I suppose: smooth, dry, silky. Come on, feel for yourself.'

Tentatively, Ron reached out. Immediately, the snake puffed itself up and hissed loudly. Ron jumped back, letting out a frightened 'Oye!' in reaction.

'Eh,' Hermione objected, grabbing the snake just underneath the head. 'What are you doing?'

It turned towards her; its round eyes focused on her face as it hissed gently.

'No, we don't hiss at people in this house,' she reprimanded, while its tail coiled around her waist.

'Yeah, I am sure he got that,' Ron said, making a face.

'It could be a she, too. I haven't checked. Oh look, it's settling down again,' Hermione replied, letting go of the snake's neck and ignoring the soft whimper Ron made because of that. Slowly, the snake slithered up her body, wrapping itself around Hermione's shoulders to get higher. 'See, you probably just startled it.'

'Sure, it's my fault,' Ron replied, rolling his eyes. 'I swear to you, right now, it's looking at me as if it's ready to kill.'

'It's not venomous. Besides, when grass snakes make that noise, it's always bluff. They often pretend to be dead when threatened. I saw a picture of that once.' Hermione chuckled, absentmindedly stroking the snake's tail that dangled against her belly.

'Well, when you're done petting that snake, Mum told me to inform you that dessert's ready.'

'Oooh, I better get up then, and you,' she redirected her attention to the snake, 'need to go back from where you came.' Carefully, she placed both her hands underneath the snake and lifted it from her shoulders. 'Let me take you there.' She rose to her feet and walked to the bush where she'd spotted it first. Her eyes searched the area until she found the small hole a few feet behind the bush in the dead undergrowth. There, she placed the snake down and ushered it back in. 'Enjoy your rest. No more coming out, though, not till it's spring for real.'

Accompanied by a string of soft hisses, the snake slithered back into the hole.

'There, it's back from where it came,' she said to Ron, satisfied.

'I should tell Mum she's got snakes in the garden,' he replied. 'Maybe she knows how to get rid of them.'

'That's illegal, Ron. Grass snakes are protected under the Wildlife and Countryside Act. It's an offence to kill or harm them. Surely, as an Auror, you should know these things.'

'That's Muggle law.'

'And?' Hermione asked, placing her hands on her sides.

'This isn't Muggle land.'

'This is still England, and you're supposed to abide by all the rules of this country.'

'Well, I can't know all of them laws, too.'

'Them laws?' she asked, looking at him pointedly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

'I—well—I me-meant,' Ron stuttered, tossing his hands in the air in desperation. 'Can't we just go and have dessert?'

Hermione snorted. 'I suppose,' she replied, causing him to let out a breath in relief and turn to go back indoors. 'But Ron,' she said to his back, 'we really need to talk tonight … when we're home.'

Ron stopped and turned around, hesitantly opening his mouth as if about to say something important back when Ginny peeked around the door and called out to them.

'Ron, what's keeping you and Hermione? I want some of that delicious-looking pie!'

'Yes!' George added loudly. 'We're starving in here. Haven't had a thing to eat yet.'

xxx

It was a cacophony of speech by the time Hermione retook her seat next to Percy and Ginny. A big slice of hot apple-pie was already placed on her plate, and the smell of it made her mouth water. Molly was waving her wand at a giant bucket filled with vanilla ice cream. A ladle scooped balls of it out and deposited them on Ron's plate.

'How many, Hermione?' Molly asked, hardly able to get herself heard over the noise. The Weasleys always had been a rowdy bunch. However, on days like these, when everyone was there, the ambient sound reached critical levels.

'One's just fine,' Hermione replied. She got two ladles full of ice cream.

Molly flashed her wand, banishing the bucket back to the giant freezer in the shed. Another flash of her wand and numerous piping bags filled with the most delicious, homemade whipped cream landed on the table.

'Enjoy, everyone,' she said, sitting down, too.

'Thanks, Mrs Weasley, you too,' Hermione said, hearing others say similar words of gratitude.

'It's delicious,' Arthur said, his mouth already full.

'—and then Angelina said, "Why don't you blow on it?" and I kid you not,' George said animatedly, grabbing the nearest bag and adding quite a generous amount of whipped cream on top of his pie, 'he actually did.'

Bill snorted.

'No way,' Charlie said, looking at Angelina for confirmation.

She nodded. 'He did. The proof is forever visible on the store's staircase.'

Everyone burst into laughter.

'Gotta go see that,' Ron muttered, looking around for a free piping bag and finding none nearby his seat. 'Hermione, could you pass me the whip cream?' he asked, nodding with his head to the bag next to her.

'Sure.' She flicked her wand at the bag, planning to levitate it over the table to Ron, when it shot up in the air like a rocket.

'Whoop!' George catcalled from a far.

Several shocked screams filled the room when the bag exploded and an endless amount of whipped cream plunged down like a fountain of snow. Percy jumped back, chair and all, and Penelope ducked under the table, both avoiding contact with the sweet foam. However, Hermione, Arthur, Harry, Ginny and Bill got the full dose of it, looking like snowmen. The tip of the exploded bag hovered above the table, producing more and more whipped cream by the second. Harry flashed his wand at it. Briefly, the substance froze in mid-air. Then, a loud, elongated farting noise accompanied the death of the production, and in the end, the tip clattered down on the table.

'Oh dear, oh dear,' Molly said, waving her wand to clean up the mess. 'Is everyone all right?'

'That solely depends on whether you like your whip cream. I'm good,' Charlie answered, grinning at the avalanche on top of his pie and digging his fork in.

'Here, Ron,' Ginny said wickedly, grabbing a handful off her soaked plate, 'your cream.'

Ron ducked just in time, and it soared over his head, smashing into the wall.

'Missed!' Ron shouted, lifting his head up triumphantly when Harry's pie smashed into his face.

'Score, Harry!' George yelled as Angelina dunked her ice cream into his opened mouth, making him yelp at the sudden coldness.

Soon, food was flying everywhere, and nobody seemed safe from the onslaught. Bill had a batter hat on top of his head. Molly got covered with whipped cream. Charlie quickly covered his plate and rushed to the children's table for safety. However, there, James was taking a liking to what his father was doing and he tossed his apple-juice in the air, shouting: 'Daddy, look!'

When the storm finally settled, everyone was laughing and waving their wands to clean up after them. Hermione aimed her wand at the mess on the wall. 'Evanesco!'

With a loud crash, the wall exploded.

'Protego!' Harry yelled, enveloping everyone.

Now everyone was staring at her dumbfounded. Nobody was used to Hermione botching up spells, let alone twice in a row.

Confused, Hermione stared at her wand and shook it in her hand as if to diagnose what was wrong. What was the matter with her? This wasn't due to Riddle's or her magic. She would've felt that. Besides, it would've been a lot more volatile if she'd lost control over his magic. She'd seen and experienced that earlier today. No, this was something else entirely, and it was getting ridiculous. She'd cast the Vanishing Spell a thousand times before without any problem whatsoever. And now it wouldn't even work for her verbally?

'Oh my …' Molly whispered, looking at Arthur knowingly. 'Oh my, oh my, oh my!'

Excited and practically bouncing on her feet, the Weasley matriarch flashed her wand to Hermione. Not seeing it coming on time, the spell collided with her, surrounding her in a bright, pink glow.

'I should've known!' Molly cheered, running to the frozen-to-the-floor Hermione and pulling her against her chest. 'You're pregnant! We're going to have a little girl!'

Pregnant? But—but we can't … oh god.

Hermione just stood there like a statue, her face white as snow, while people patted her on the back in shows of support. Ron was equally nonresponsive, and Charlie had his mouth open wide in astonishment. Meanwhile, Molly wouldn't let go of Hermione and kept talking over her head. 'You remember, Arthur, with the twins …'

Twins? I'm not having any twins.

'Yes,' Arthur replied equally happily, grabbing a hold of Ron and slapping him on the back. 'Nice going, son,' he said, before replying to his wife: 'You kept mucking up your spells then, too.'

'I can't believe I didn't see it sooner,' Molly said, practically smothering Hermione with her hug. 'You see, dear, we said not to worry, that all it would take was time and everything would be okay.'

She grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and pushed her back slightly, kissing her on both cheeks. Nothing happened, and she would've put it on Mrs Weasley being a woman if it weren't for the fact that Harry had welcomed her in with a kiss and there hadn't been a reaction then either. However, now was not the time to contemplate on the properties of the bond and why Neville had been the only one so far getting a shock. She had bigger issues.

Pregnant? Please, don't let it be true. It has to be a mistake or something.

'Congratulations, dear, you're going to be a mother. Oh, you look a bit pale. Don't you worry, we'll help.' Another bear hug followed. 'A little girl.' Molly looked down fondly. 'I've always wanted a granddaughter. We got so many things to take care of. You're going to need a cot, and oooh, those cute, little dresses. I've always loved buying those. And I'll knit you some pink socks and baby hats if she's not a redhead. Pink looks horrible with red hair. But babies need hats; they lose too much body heat through their skull. I'd love to knit some pink ones this time. And you, young lady, you need to eat better. Come, come, sit, you shouldn't be on your feet.' She dragged Hermione into the nearest chair. 'I'll get you something to drink, sweetie. No alcohol.' Molly almost danced to the kitchen. 'Just the other day, I saw these adorable, little witch's hats in Madam Malkin's store. They were just to die for. I'm sure they'll be perfect for your daughter. Have you thought of a name yet? I suppose your mother would—'

'Don't worry,' Ginny whispered, blurring out Molly's babbling as she sat down next to Hermione. 'She'll only get worse.'

Feeling horrified, nauseated and dizzy all at once, Hermione looked sideways.

Ginny immediately stopped chuckling. 'Are you okay? Mum's too overwhelming, isn't she?' she whispered knowingly. 'I'll get you out of here. Just pretend to be sick.' Ginny stood up and pulled Hermione with her. 'Mum! Hermione and Ron have to go.'

'Uh?' Molly turned around and stared at her daughter with a confused frown.

'You know what it's like,' Ginny said, nodding with her head to the pale Hermione whom she was now supporting underneath her arm. 'Crowded room, just pregnant, food everywhere.'

'Oooh,' Molly said understandingly, slapping her hand in front of her mouth, 'of course, of course. Ron, go help your wife get home and to bed. Ginny shouldn't be lifting in her condition, Harry,' she added sternly.

Harry quickly pulled Hermione's arm over his shoulder, sharing a knowing glance with Ginny who rolled her eyes.

'Ron!' Molly reprimanded. 'Don't be such a man and do something to help Hermione.' She shook her head. 'I raised you better than this,' she added, muttering to herself.

As Ron finally seemed to come out of his stupor, he shook himself, hesitantly moving towards Hermione. Charlie rose from his seat, looking directly at his brother as he was about to pass him. He'd been the only one in the family not congratulating them.

'Ron?' he asked carefully, searching his brother's face.

'Not now, Charlie,' Ron hissed sharply under his breath.

Charlie nodded. 'Contact me when you need to. I'll be there,' he whispered, patting him on his shoulder.

Hermione felt like ice was thrown down her spine when Ron stopped next to her. She'd not looked at him once during all this. She couldn't bear it. She was a horrible, horrible person. How had this gone south so fast? She'd planned to go slow, to get a fake divorce to cover for the already existing one. And now, she was with child, and he'd think—he'd think … Oh Godric, help her.

Her emotions overwhelmed her.

'Hermione!' Harry said, alarmed.

She felt his arms tighten around her just before everything turned black in front of her eyes and she passed out cold.

xxx

When she woke up the next morning, she found Ron had already gone to work. On the one hand, she was happy about that because she really didn't know what to say. How could she possibly bring up a divorce now? On the other hand, the longer she waited, the worse it would be. Hermione sighed. She'd have to catch him at work and find a quiet place there to talk. This couldn't continue.

If only Molly hadn't insisted on bringing her to St. Mungo's yesterday, she could've had this horrible conversation done already. But by the time she'd been seen and helped by a Healer, it had been well past midnight. She'd been too tired to talk and had just dropped in bed and gone to sleep. Ron hadn't said much at all, she recalled. He'd just walked around like some zombie, letting his mother do all the talking at the hospital. Fat lot of help he was.

When she realised the snide remark that her mind had just made about her husband who'd not done anything wrong unlike her, her cheeks burned and she felt incredibly guilty. A guilt that she tried to wash away by practically drowning herself under the shower and scrubbing herself vigorously with soap.

It didn't work.

After she got dressed, Hermione made herself breakfast, recalling the heated discussion she'd had in private with the Healer. When she'd told the Healer that she wanted an abortion, the Healer had merely pointed to her neck and had said that she and her husband should've considered all the repercussion of a certain Moirae bond before entering into it. Apparently, an abortion was out of the question under Moirae's rules, just like a divorce was. The only thing the Healer could do for her was give her a potion to prevent the baby's magic from interfering with her casting. She'd taken that with her, wanting to research the side-effects properly first before ingesting it. Since she had to have this girl, she didn't want to screw her up before she was born already.

Merlin, she was going to have a child with Tom Marvolo Riddle, not exactly father-of-the-year material.

Dropping her head in her hands, she groaned. Her life couldn't possibly get more fucked up than it was right now.

xxx

Bells chimed as she entered the shop. It was a rather oddly configured building; it seemed more like a corridor than a room big enough to be a shop. Her eyes curiously swept around. Next to the entrance in front of the window stood a small, solid wooden counter with an old-fashioned cash register on top of it. Next to it lay a large, thick leather book that had 'The Ledger' printed on it in gold filigree. Other than that, the counter was remarkably empty—no displays of items to get customers to make a last-minute, unneeded buy. Thinking that was either remarkably considerate of the owner or just unknowledgeable, she checked out the rest of the store.

The entire left wall was filled with boring, brown boxes that only varied in size. The wall on her right held moving pictures of couples in various kinky sex acts, the items they used nicely displayed underneath it in glass casings. As the couples moved onto another stance or kink, Hermione noticed that the items in the casing underneath magically altered to display what they were now using. She smiled. That was quite a bit of impressive magic.

The centre of the 'corridor', as Hermione had dubbed the shop, was filled with clothing hangers holding lingerie, costumes, latex and leather outfits and other nightwear. Besides that there were racks filled with shoes that were obviously not to be used to walk a marathon on and glass display casings filled with all types of adult toys and potions bottles. Interested, Hermione scanned through the racks, occasionally pulling out an item of clothing that struck her fancy.

A curtain at the back of the shop got pulled to the side, and a blond, tiny witch in a tight, black, latex dress sashayed towards her on impossible stiletto heels with thick, plateau soles under the latex boots. Hermione put the dress she had in hand back in the rack and straighten out her back. Now, Hermione wasn't the biggest woman in the world, yet she could easily see over the head of the shopkeeper that was approaching her, despite the woman's footwear.

When she got closer, Hermione realised she didn't have short hair as she'd first thought. No, the witch's hair was pulled together in curls on top and at the back of her head, held together by a variation of knives with dragon, skull, Chimaera, cockatrice and werewolf decorations. It seemed like an awful lot of work to maintain to Hermione.

'Hello, I am Mistress Aphrodite,' the lady said in a surprisingly low voice for such a tiny person. 'Welcome to the Pain and Pleasure Palace. How may I be of assistance?'

'Good morning,' Hermione greeted politely. 'I have a list.' She ruffled through her long, pearl coat's pocket and dug it up. 'I shall require all of it,' she said, giving it to the well-manicured lady.

Her blue eyes scanned the list quickly. 'Is this to be used by you?'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. What kind of question was that? Did she think she would donate it to charity, hang it on her walls or what?

Mistress Aphrodite smiled. 'First timer, dear?'

'I don't see why that's any of your business,' Hermione replied, tight-lipped.

'If this is used by you on your partner,' she explained calmly, 'then I require his or her measurements and we have a problem for a significant part of your list. If it's to be used on you, we're good to go. Come to think of it, this does seem more like a man's handwriting—your Master?'

Okay, she'd no problem calling Riddle that in the privacy of his cell, but she so wasn't going to acknowledge that to a perfect stranger. 'It's to be used on me,' she answered instead.

Mistress Aphrodite's lip twitched in amusement, and her left hand stroked over the heft of a whip that was attached to her hip.

'If you were my slave, that attitude was going to get you into severe trouble, dear.'

'Look, I have to go to work. Could you just be a professional, do your job and supply me with this, or do I need to take my business elsewhere?'

'I can get you everything you need, pet. I was only giving you some piece of free advice, on the house.'

Hermione took a step forward, using her height to tower over the other woman. 'Get this very straight: I'm not your dear, your slave, your pet or your anything.'

Completely unabashed, Mistress Aphrodite looked up, smiling brightly. 'Yes, I am well aware you're not my property, dearest. But just in case your Master requires any assistance in disciplining you,' her eyes flickered over Hermione's body appreciatively, 'do tell him I'm more than willing to show you your rightful place.'

Hermione's wand was at the witch's throat in a flash. 'Let me make myself absolutely clear,' she hissed. 'I don't appreciate the insinuations, and my rightful place is so far above your head you wouldn't be able to reach it with the tallest ladder in the world.'

'Bravo!' The woman chortled, clapping her hands together. She stepped away from Hermione as if there weren't a wand pointed at her and flashed her own to the counter. A black leather bag appeared on top of it. She then stared contemplatively at Hermione who was now awkwardly holding onto her wand, not sure what to do with it at this moment.

'I love your spunk, dear, and the way you hold yourself …' She scratched her chin thoughtfully. 'Well, if you ever decide to become a Domme instead, I'd be more than happy to show you the ropes,' she said lightly. 'Now, let's start on your list: full range set of floggers from warm-up, moderate to harsh.'

She tapped her wand on the list and it got scratched through. Immediately, boxed items flew from everywhere in the piles on the left wall and landed inside the bag on the counter. The gaps they left behind were filled again seconds later. Calmly, Hermione pocketed her wand, glad the Mistress had finally decided to serve her.

'Several whips,' Mistress Aphrodite muttered. 'Full range set of deluxe paddles. The deluxe ones come with our complimentary set of crops for free,' the woman said, scratching more and more of the list while brown boxes kept landing in the bag.

'Thanks.'

'My pleasure. If you want, I could demonstrate them on you?'

'No thanks,' Hermione immediately added, annoyed.

'Deluxe Set of Magical Toys … er … we have two of those nowadays. Could you contact your Master on whether he'd like the set with or without the potions?'

'Just put them both in there,' Hermione said, going through a nearby stand with leather corsets. To her surprise, there were actually maternity corsets available that would emphasise the pregnant belly even more and add support to both the back and the baby. Subconsciously, her free hand was resting on her belly while she looked at it.

'We have a whole line of clothes for the pregnant Domme or sub,' Mistress Aphrodite suddenly said. 'If you're interested, I could show you more. It's not all in the front of the shop. We lack the room you see.'

'No, that's not necessary. I was just curious,' Hermione said hastily, hanging the corset back.

'Maybe something for the future, then,' Mistress Aphrodite said, smiling as the last box that flew through the air landed in the bag. 'Now, we've reached the items that require measuring. If you'd be so kind to stand still,' she ordered, waving her wand in an arch above her head.

A light-blue circle appeared above Hermione's head and quickly descended until it reached her feet. Hermione noted that at several points a number seemed to be registered into the now opened ledger on the counter.

'Gags in all shapes and sizes, I can see why he wants those,' the lady muttered. 'Blindfolds, binders and cuffs, check.' She was now going through the list in record speed. 'Our specialised clothes: potion-infused, cursed, jinxed, hexed and variable, done. Added, added and added,' she said, tapping at the things on the list until she reached the last one: 'B.T.V. 734895.'

Mistress Aphrodite froze, staring at the list with her mouth slightly ajar.

'Impossible. Can't be,' she whispered, her eyes flashing to Hermione nervously.

'Seven, three, four, eight, nine, five,' she repeated cautiously, tapping with her wand on the signature underneath it. It burned away. Then, the numbers left the page and glowed brightly into the air before disappearing in a puff of smoke. A bird made of parchment fluttered down, landing on top of the opened ledger and unfolding itself before sealing into it as if it had always been a part of the book. All this caused Mistress Aphrodite to turn as white as a sheet.

'What?' Hermione asked, confused.

'No-nothing, m-my Lady,' Mistress Aprhodite stuttered, dropping to her knees as she held out the leather bag to Hermione with her head bend and her eyes fixed on the floor. 'Your belongings, my Lady. I hope you'll forgive my previous, ignorant words? I didn't mean to offend my Mistress.'

Bemused, Hermione took the bag from her and reached for her purse. She had no idea what the hell that BTV was, but considering the demeanour change, she had an inkling Mistress Aphrodite had identified her 'Master'. Perhaps an Obliviate was in order? Then again, Riddle would've said so if it were necessary. He would've known that would get this reaction. Considering the risk to the other witch if her casting went wrong, she decided against it. For now.

'How much is that?' Hermione asked, ignoring the question since she'd felt offended and the snivelling apologies annoyed her more than the actual offense. However, she was worried what would happen if she voiced that out loud, so she'd decided on pretending not to have heard it. She really wasn't in the mood to listen to that bitch sucking up to her even further.

'It's already paid for, my Lady.'

Hermione frowned. Oh no, she was not stealing things. She clicked open her purse. 'I didn't pay you,' she said sternly, 'and I am not taking things from here without doing so.'

'My Lady, it's already billed to vault 734895 as requested. I tapped on the signature. The contents has been taken from his vault now and deposited in ours. You can see the evidence in my register. Please don't make me take your money, too, he'll …' Mistress Aphrodite trailed off anxiously.

Oh, so B.T.V. meant 'bill to vault'. Well, one mystery solved. What was that number again? Seven, three, four, eight, nine, five. Yes, seven, three, four, eight, nine, five. Hermione recited the numbers several times in her mind, until she was sure she'd recall them. This was definitely worth looking into. She clicked her purse closed, noticing that Mistress Aphrodite let out a relieved sigh.

'Since it's paid for and I have everything on my list, I take it our business is done?' Hermione checked just to be certain, while she put her purse and the leather bag into her coat's pocket.

'Yes, yes, everything is there. Thank you for honouring my shop with your presence, my Lady,' Mistress Aphrodite said demurely, 'and I wish you a very good day.'

'Yeah, honouring, riiight,' Hermione said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and shaking her head at the ridiculous subservience the other woman was now displaying. It gave her the creeps and she left the shop in a hurry, wishing the still kneeling woman a good day, too.

As she walked in Knockturn Alley, she suddenly heard yelling behind her. It was the voice of the shop owner. 'My Lady! My Lady! Please wait!'

Sighing, Hermione turned around. Mistress Aphrodite fell to her knees in front of Hermione, holding up a thin, see-through rod in her hands. Worried someone was seeing this, Hermione's eyes flickered around. Fortunately, the rain was pouring down heavily, preventing the normal lurkers to hang around at their usual spots in the notorious alley.

'I forgot about our special offer this week, my Lady. Our latest leather handled nylon cane is supplied to all customers who spend more than five hundred Galleons and—'

'Thank you,' Hermione interrupted abruptly, taking the cane and putting it inside her coat's pocket in a hurry. 'Now if you don't want me to curse you into oblivion, I suggest you get up and behave like a normal person before someone sees you,' she hissed, swirling around and pacing away.

xxx

As she arrived at the Ministry of Magic, she immediately walked into the lift. 'Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Auror Division,' she said mechanically. She had to get a divorce, asap.

The grills closed, and the lift swung away as abruptly as always. Hermione clutched to the bar, leaning with her head against the wall. Merlin, why was this happening? She couldn't believe it. How was it possible? Well, she knew how. But really … Damn it. How was she going to tell Ron? This wasn't how things were supposed to work out. She'd been planning to talk to Ron in the privacy of their home. She'd been planning to tell him that she wanted some time apart, slowly easing them into a divorce so they could've remained friends somehow. But now, he'd think she was pregnant with his child. Hermione banged her head against the wall. He wouldn't understand. He'd be furious, rightfully so. It would hurt him so much.

The lift stopped at the Auror Division.

She couldn't do this to Ron. Not like this. Not here, not now. There had to be another, better way.

'Scratch that,' Hermione said before it opened, 'Department of Mysteries.'

Immediately, she got jolted backwards. She just needed some things from her office and then she had someone else to see and yell at. Determined, Hermione eventually stepped into the Ministry car waiting for her at the back entrance.

'Azkaban, Alphonse,' she said, her face blank.

As the car rushed away, a tall redhead emerged from the shadows and Disapparated.

xxx

The door to his cell swung open and banged against the opposite wall. With a jolt, Riddle jumped up.

'You,' Hermione hissed, glaring at him furiously.

'What?' he asked, looking at her confused.

'You idiot!'

She ruffled in her coat's pocket frantically. Finally pulling out a flashlight, she stared at it briefly in annoyance before throwing it violently against his chest. He caught it before it fell and stared at it bemused as if he couldn't believe that thing had just been tossed against his almighty being.

'You imbecile!' she yelled, continuing to rummage through her pocket even more hurriedly.

Tom decided it was probably not a good idea to let her find whatever it was she was looking for. He tossed the flashlight on his bed and rushed around the table.

'You got me pregnant!'

That froze him on the spot, a few steps away from her. His face turned paler than he'd ever been, and he just stared at her, not believing his ears.

Hermione had finally found what she was looking for, and she yanked out the thin, nylon cane with a flourish, swiping it around immediately. There was slight whistle as it broke the air and a whipping snap sound as it connected with his shoulder, hard. A pain-filled grunt left Riddle's mouth, and he stumbled forwards. Now she had time to make a full swing and the thin cane whistled through the air before smashing into his back. This time he actually screamed, and she really enjoyed the sound of that. Hermione put her full weight behind her next swing, and it struck the back of his thigh, causing him to crash to the floor. All the while, she'd been christening him with various unflattering adjectives in her fury.

'You unbelievable, immature, ignorant, moronic,' she added, aiming for his head this time and hitting his arm instead. He'd raised it to block the impact, and his face was screwed together in pain. 'You'd think that after all those unnatural acts, after all those things you did against nature, the least it could've done back was prevent you from reproducing more idiotic, irresponsible, stupid,' she swung the cane around again, continuing to voice her opinion loudly.

However, this time, he rolled out of the way, towards her, causing her to swing over him and lose her balance. He grabbed her legs and pulled. With a frightened yell, Hermione landed on her behind, dropping the cane as she tried to cushion her fall with her hands. As Tom crawled on top of her, Hermione's hand desperately patted after the cane, but it rolled out of her reach and disappeared under the bed. She let out a furious, frustrated scream.

'Get off me, Riddle.'

She tried to launch him across the room by abruptly raising her hips, but he merely landed on his side next to her. She quickly sat up, only to be yanked back by her hair, landing against his chest. His free arm wrapped around her waist quickly.

'Quiet down,' he said coldly, tightening his grip warningly.

A pained gasp erupted from his throat when her elbow connected with his stomach. He doubled over, letting go of her waist but his other hand was still entangled with her curls. Hermione rolled around, cringing from the pressure she put on her hair due to that. As she was now facing him, she hauled up her knee, planning to strike him in an area she probably should have made dysfunctional earlier. Instead of hitting her alleged target, however, she clashed against his outer thigh. He used her momentum to swing them over and Hermione yelped when her leg was pushed outward in an uncomfortable stretch. He had both his knees on her thigh and hipbone, pressing them down with his full weight, and she whimpered in pain, not daring to move in case she ruptured a muscle or tendon. His one hand was still in her hair, holding her upper body in unnatural curve, while the other hand held on to her pinkie behind her back, pressing outward until it was nearly out of alignment.

'Stop,' she whispered panicking, worried he'd actually do it.

'Are you going to behave now?' he coldly asked.

'Yes,' she responded immediately. 'Yes, please, you're hurting me.'

Those words seemed to please him because his eyes lit up. He slid his knees off her, causing her to gasp as he rolled deliberately over her bones before he landed between her legs. Her eyes watered and she took a couple of deep breaths, staying as still as she could underneath his gaze. Apparently satisfied with her still motionless stance, he let go of her hair and leaned forward, placing his now free hand beside her body as he slowly forced her backwards onto the ground, landing on their arms. Hermione winced in discomfort as not only hers but his weight, too, was pressing down on her arm. It was digging painfully into her back.

Still, she wasn't moving. Only a fraction more, and he'd break her little finger. There was no doubt in her mind he'd do it. She could see it in his eyes. She could also see he wouldn't stop there. There was something lurking out, something incredibly dangerous looking at her, ready to strike. She didn't want to trigger that. Her chin trembled, and she did what she could to hold in her tears. She had a feeling he'd hurt her severely if she started crying. She just knew. It was safe to say she'd never been more afraid in her entire life than right now. And she'd had some seriously fearful moments before.

However, this was topping it. If something happened right now, if she did something wrong in his eyes, he wouldn't just hurt her. He wouldn't stop hurting her. He'd pick her apart as slow as he could in the most painful ways he could imagine. This was one of those moments she wished he wasn't so damn creative. This was one of those moments she wished she would die quickly, knowing that wish wouldn't be granted—not with that uncaring, cold expression on his face and that weird, blank, detached glint in his eyes. It was a different glint from every other time he'd looked at her. It was almost like he wasn't there. The fear it elicited inside of her turned her cold to the very marrow of her bones. She didn't know what to do, what to say to make that utter detachment disappear, so she remained quiet, utterly still, hoping for the best as she kept eye contact with the cold killer lying on top of her.

Finally, he blinked. His eyes flickered over her face. And she knew it was over—the glint was gone. He'd snapped out of it. Yet, she didn't show her relief for fear it would trigger its return.

'Well, what am I going to do with you, Hermione?' Riddle asked with a teasing lilt. 'Now that I got you so conveniently pinned down underneath me?'

He tilted his head, waiting for her reply, but all she could do was swallow away the lump that had formed in her throat. Her body was beginning to tremble in reaction to the overload of emotions she'd not been able to show previously, and she bit her lip, not wanting to cry. Riddle's eyes widened, and he abruptly let go of her pinkie while rolling them quickly around so she lay on top of his chest now. His arms wrapped around her comfortingly.

'Hush,' he whispered, 'it's all right, hush now. You're okay. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe.'

Hermione closed her eyes, her fingers clutching to his shirt as she buried her head in his chest. Thank God that was over.

'Well, this is cosy,' Ron's voice called out coldly.

She froze. No, not now, not here. Voldemort would kill him.

She wanted to move up, but Riddle's arm tightened around her waist, and his other hand suddenly was in her hair, stroking over the top of her head, warning her to keep her place, to not interfere. Despite that she couldn't see his face, she didn't have to look up to know what his expression would be like right about now. She could feel it in the way he was lying there on his back in a show of utter relaxation and contentment all of a sudden.

'Do you mind? I'm entertaining my guest,' Tom replied smugly.

Hermione closed her eyes, not having to guess Ron's reaction, and she was immediately proven right. He turned on his heels, snapping, 'You can keep that filthy whore.'

The door slammed shut with a deafening bang, causing her to jerk.

'Whatever did you see in that man?' Tom asked incredulously.

xxx

A/N: Just in case anyone gets any foolish ideas, the nylon cane Hermione is whipping around is not a BDSM beginner's tool and not for the fainthearted. She did some serious damage there, which she will find out in the next chapter. Don't go toying around with any BDSM items without proper instruction and knowledge. Author is not responsible for any and all ... well, you all heard the legal shit before, just fill in the rest. *winks* Now, I shall go and hide, because I am pretty sure HE is not amused with me at the moment. *shivers*
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The Prisoner