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The Forbidden Ship	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18083 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 15
- 16
- 17
A/N: This is a deleted scene from "Masters of Manipulation: Part Two". I figured since I couldn't use this extended side-plot anymore and it can stand on its own easily, I'd wrap up the scene and share it with you all here. Enjoy.

Masters of Manipulation: Part Two - Outtake.

'Mrs Woodbridge, so good to finally make your acquaintance.'

'Same here, Mr Wolfe, same here,' Hermione said, nodding her head courtly.

'I look forward to show you our exhibition and its final piece. It's mind-boggling.'

'I trust the security measures are of equal standards?'

'Naturally, naturally, I assure you we have done everything to meet the company's requirements to the letter,' Mr Wolfe said hastily, while they walked up the stairs to the personal entrance. 'We wouldn't want our centre piece to get stolen, now would we?'

'That would certainly be a shame,' Hermione said, with a small smile on her lips. 'I see you've got the latest in identifying scans for the doors.'

'Yes, we do,' Mr Wolfe stated proudly, 'you have our curator, Mr Thompson, to thank for that.'

'Your curator?' Hermione said, puzzled. 'I didn't think that would be part of a curator's job description.'

'It isn't, but he is quite brilliant in Muggle technology, knows everything about the latest compila – er – compula-'

'Computer,' Hermione helped.

'Yes, that thing,' Mr Wolfe said, relieved. 'Anyway, he helped us set up those handy scans and everything in all kinds of ways Muggles use to protect their stuff. They are quite inventive, you know, Muggles.'

'Yeah, I know,' Hermione said, making her best effort not to sound disgruntled. She took an extensive look at the eye-and-fingerprint scanners, while cursing the darned curator in the back of her mind. This was going to be more difficult than she planned upon. 'Muggle technology can be very helpful in protecting wizarding artefacts. Most wizards and witches haven't got a clue as to how they work, and they never count on them when they break into a facility.'

'Indeed, indeed, our thoughts exactly,' Mr Wolfe said, like it was all his idea.

'I do trust you also have protective spell-work in place,' Hermione said, activating the wireless storage-device in her pocket when Mr Wolfe inserted his codes into the keyboard on the wall that would activate the doors to the main exhibition room.

'We put everything around the item as you requested.'

'Good, good,' Hermione said, satisfied. After all she knew how to dismantle those spells to the letter. Now all she had to bypass were the Muggle security measures, which were bound to have wizarding additions. 'Then I am certain we will be able to insure the item as you requested. However, I must have a full demonstration of everything, including the Muggle defences you installed. Procedure, you understand.'

'Of course, of course,' Mr Wolfe added hastily, as he opened the door for Hermione. 'Rapports need to be making.'

'Exactly, and I have to follow the company's insurance procedures or they will sack me in a heartbeat.'

Mr Wolfe seemed very understanding to her predicament.

'It will be helpful if your curator could show me what he did.' Hermione was sure it would be easier to fool someone who was not specialised in looking around for thieves; and if this curator helped defend the item, he was bound to be proud of his accomplishments. Besides, men always liked to talk about their accomplishments to a pretty woman, always.

'Well, you're in luck. He is right over there,' said Mr Wolfe, pointing to the long legs of a figure that was lying underneath the raised platform. 'Mr Thompson! Mrs Woodbridge from the Halliwell Corporation is here.'

A muffled sound came back in response.

'Sorry to disturb you, but we need your assistance,' Mr Wolfe added, lowering his head.

Hermione took full advantage of the opportunity to scan her environment unnoticed. Everything went perfect. This would be an easy job, very easy.

'Fine,' muttered the curator back in annoyance.

That voice … no, it couldn't be. Harry wouldn't let—

Mr Thompson rolled out from underneath the platform and stared up at the two people above him. Or rather, he stared at Hermione.

Hermione's mouth gaped open when she identified the curator as being indeed Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Merlin's pants! So much for easy.

'Mr Thompson, this is Mrs Woodbridge; she is most interested in your upgrades to our security.'

Hermione regained her composure just on time, and her face was perfectly blank when Mr Wolfe looked back at her.

Mr Thompson smiled broadly. 'Really? I would be more than honoured to show them to you, Mrs Woodbridge.'

Mr Wolfe appeared very happy with the introductions. Hermione, however, couldn't help but notice the slight amount of sarcasm that was added to her last name, and she was pretty sure the sarcasm was extended to him showing her any of his security measures. Crap, crap, crap.

'I look forward to hearing all about it, Mr Thompson,' said Hermione, making sure she added the same amount of sarcasm to her speech.

The smirk that appeared briefly on Mr Thompson's face as he got up from the floor was a clear testament to the truth of her thoughts. He extended his hand to her. Hermione's eyes widened. She was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea for them to touch each other in front of company, especially since they hadn't seen each other in years and she wasn't sure how violently their bond would respond upon a renewed physical contact. Mr Wolfe coughed and nodded towards Tom's blackened hands.

'Oh sorry,' the alleged Mr Thompson said, smiling ever so apologetic as he wiped off his hands on his coveralls, 'I didn't realise. Mick Thompson, at your service.' And Tom nodded courtly to Hermione.

'Lynn Woodbridge, nice to make your acquaintance.'

'So, you are here on behalf of the insurance company?'

'Yes, we need to verify to item's legitimacy as well as its security before we can proceed to fill in the paperwork.'

'Well then, I can assist you with both,' Tom replied ever so politely.

'I will need to verify your claims with another professional,' Hermione said, smiling equally politely. 'Not that I doubt yours, but it is procedure.'

'Of course, we will make the item available to your expert.'

As they stared at each other, each straining their fake smiles to the best of their abilities, Hermione realised this couldn't go on. Mr Wolfe didn't appear to her as the brightest cookie in the jar—he had hired Lord Voldemort after all and had taken her identity for granted rather easily—yet, Tom being here was a serious issue. If he were after the item, too, which she had no doubt he was, she'd have to think of something to take him out before he did that to her. She needed a moment to think, preferably at some place where she could be alone and didn't have to look at those knowing dark eyes of his.

Averting her gaze swiftly, she turned her attention back to the moron who was now looking at the two of them as if he saw love at first sight developing before his eyes. Hermione felt like hitting him over the head with her beaded bag. Hard.

Instead, she said, 'Not to be rather abrupt, Mr Wolfe, but do you have a bathroom I could use?'

'Yes, down the corridor, third door on your left.'

'Thank you.'

'I'll show you the way,' Tom added smoothly.

'I think I can find it.'

'The doors are bolted.'

Hermione blinked. 'You secured the bathrooms? Afraid someone would steal a toilet boil?' she mocked.

'You never know what people will be interested in stealing,' Tom replied knowingly.

'Paranoid much?'

Tom smiled. 'It's not paranoia when one is right, Lynn. You don't mind if I call you Lynn, do you?'

'Of course not, Mick, and I do stand corrected. You are quite right; you never know who will be interested in stealing valuable ancient artefacts,' Hermione responded, smiling sweetly at him.

'Like Simon Templar,' Mr Wolfe added; and when both of them looked at him rather curiously, he added, 'You know… The Saint. I heard everybody who met him trusted him instantaneously. It was how he was able to steal so many priceless diamonds without getting caught.'

'People often trust the wrong persons with their belongings,' Hermione said, looking at Tom.

'Not here at "The Olde Ways",' Mr Wolfe reassured proudly, 'we do thorough background checks on everyone. I will not be taken for a fool by some smooth talker.'

'No, Mr Wolfe here is a very careful individual indeed,' Tom commented.

'I can tell,' said Hermione.

'I do my best,' said Mr Wolfe humbly. 'Now Mrs. Woodbridge, the code to the bathroom is 4679.'

'Why, thank you,' Hermione said, walking away.

'We change the codes on a daily base!' Tom shouted out after her. 'Just so you don't think Mr Wolfe was being reckless by giving the code to a stranger he just met mere moments ago,' he added, smirking.

'I would never think that,' Hermione said; her cheeks were beginning to hurt from her fake smile, and it took great effort on her part not to slam the door.

She did, however, took out her frustration on the bathroom door. It had it coming. She stomped to the sinks and threw some water on her face. Of all the gin joints in all the places, he had to be here, where she needed to be. Well, he would just have to leave. The item was hers. She needed it to complete the set. She picked out her scanner and pointed it to the vent. The door flew open. Unabashed, Hermione continued looking at her screen; she had been expecting him and wasn't going to be distracted from getting the information she needed.

'Collorportus,' Tom cast.

'Snakes?' asked Hermione condescendingly.

Tom pushed open every cubicle's door, checking they were truly alone.

'You put snakes in the ventilation system? Something wrong with the plumbing in this building?' Tauntingly, Hermione turned the tap on and off. 'Will you look at that, a tap in the ladies room that's working,' she mocked.

'As you clearly remember, snakes can be very helpful to me.'

'This is not their natural habitat.'

'Planning on joining wildlife preserve?'

'It will be too cold for them to assist you in any way.'

'Oooh, you are,' he mocked. 'Now officer, I have installed an infrared system to make them more comfortable at the appropriate time,' he smirked. 'It would be a shame if they went off by themselves and scared the nice little visitors of this museum prior to their … job.'

Hermione glared at him.

He merely snickered, while he walked towards her. 'So sorry if their presence is a problem for your planned entry, Mrs Woodbridge,' he added, clearly not sorry at all.

'Not a problem at all, Mr Thompson,' Hermione replied, smiling sweetly. 'Vents are for movies. In real life they are far too noisy to crawl through.'

'Then, how do you plan to come in?' he asked, stopping in front of her.

Hermione merely looked at him.

'Fine, don't tell me. Not that it matters,' Tom said shrugging. 'The item is mine, since clearly I was here first.'

'What are you, like ten? This isn't a matter of I called it therefore it's mine,' said Hermione, folding her arms over each other while resting her butt against the sink.

'Oh, I believe it is,' said Tom certainly. 'It would be unfortunate if security decided to investigate Mrs Woodbridge's credentials further.'

Hermione snorted. 'By all means, have them check further.'

Tom narrowed his eyes. 'So, it's a real identity; what happened to the real Mrs Woodbridge?'

'Resting comfortably.'

'As in…?' Tom trailed off, watching her expectantly.

'What happened to the real Mr Thompson?' asked Hermione, ignoring the implication.

'Resting comfortably,' Tom said, snickering. 'What,' he added when she said nothing. 'No return "as in"?'

'I am not delusional,' Hermione replied coldly.

That caused him to laugh louder. When he was done, he said, 'Clearly you are if you think I am going to let you take something that belongs to me.'

Hermione shook her head. 'You need a reality check on the subject of what is and isn't yours.'

'Do I?' asked Tom; he placed his hands on the sink on either side of her and leaned in. 'I think I am not the one who needs the reality check.'

In an automatic response, Hermione raised her hand to his chest to shove him away; but the moment she touched him, the bond soared through them both with the force of a sledgehammer. Her fingers dug into his shirt; their knees buckled; his arms flew around her, and they crashed to the floor together. Hermione landed on top of him. Quietly, they lay there for a while, trying to relearn how to breathe as their bodies tingled violently.

Finally, Hermione tried to push herself up, but Tom pulled her back against him.

'Let go,' she snapped, not liking how much she enjoyed the feel of his body against hers.

'Not yet,' he said breathlessly. 'We need to get used to this again or we'll blow our cover in front of everyone if we touch accidentally.'

That made sense. Unfortunately.

So, she merely uttered a couple of incomprehensible noises in protest while resting her head back on his chest, not noticing the triumphant smirk that grew wider on his face as she relaxed into his embrace. The sensations had never been this strong before. Hermione figured it had to be due to the prolonged time they'd been separated from each other. She had the weirdest need to touch him all over, so she didn't object when Tom's hand began massaging her back. Instead, she caressed him in return. A soft moan escaped her and she closed her eyes when he reached her neck, touching her bare skin there. Tension—she didn't know she'd felt—left her body in flash. She wanted to kiss him, get his clothes off and touch him all over. His long, slender fingers began pulling her skirt up. Oh yes, that was the way to go. Hermione raised herself in assistance. She wanted, no needed, him inside of her.

What? Wait. Damn that stupid bond!

Tom's hand was squeezing her buttocks, grasping her knickers, as his other hand had buried itself into what was currently sleek, blond hair.

'What are you doing?' Hermione hissed, slapping his hand away from her behind as she raised her head to face him.

'Getting reacquainted with what is mine,' he said heatedly, pulling her back down and capturing her mouth with his.

Hermione didn't object to his statement, returning his kiss feverishly. She figured if he became overly obsessed with her again, the item would inevitably be hers.
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The Forbidden Ship