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Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 58981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 33
- 34
- 35
New chapter! Want to thank Nerys and Shan84 for betaing and everyone else for reading and reviewing. The review replies will be found here, once I’ve had a chance to answer them! http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/20494-shared-flame-by-lady-miya/

Chapter 33

It was just after three o’clock when Hermione and Voldemort arrived at the small town in Scotland where the Alpertons lived. It was raining, so they hurried down the street, looking for number sixteen. The house was an ordinary, two storeys building with big, green hedges around it. They only had to wait a few seconds before the door opened, revealing a smiling Daniel.

“Welcome! Come in, come in,” he ushered them inside.

“Thank you,” Voldemort said politely.

Hermione saw him use a drying spell over himself. She copied him.

“What a lovely home,” Hermione complimented, exaggerating a little bit.

She was surprised at how Muggle it looked, since Shannon hadn’t seemed too fond of Muggles at the restaurant. The only magical things were the many moving portraits, covering the walls in the hallway and the sitting room. Since Voldemort had told her Shannon had been practising the Dark Arts, Hermione wondered if it were a facade. Could Shannon also be hiding from the authorities?

Once they were seated on the sofa, Hermione was again struck by how impersonal the room was. It was cosy with the knitted tablecloth and the plush cushions, but it didn’t really tell her anything about the people living there. Even the bookcase was boringly ordinary. Hermione could see several titles she recognised, both Wizarding as well as Muggle, but nothing stuck out. It almost felt a little … arranged. Did they really live here? Hermione glanced at Voldemort. He acted like nothing was amiss; thus, she decided not to ask. Voldemort was far more paranoid than she was. She would just make sure to be cautious.

Shannon entered from the hallway, carrying a teapot. She welcomed them and poured them all a cup of tea. Hermione had just taken a bite of a biscuit when Shannon turned to Voldemort.

“So, clearly you are not who you say you are.” There was no accusation behind the sentence, only curiosity.

Hermione choked on her biscuit and coughed, while Voldemort only arched his eyebrows, taking a sip from his teacup.

“What makes you say that?”

“I did a background check on both of you. Your papers claim that you are thirty-seven, while Hermione is twenty-four. That’s only a thirteen year difference between the two of you. A Shared Flame occurs when someone tries to harvest so much magic that the body can’t handle it, thus making part of the magic jump to the nearest potential magical being who has yet to develop their own magic. And you don’t harvest that much magic by mistake.” Shannon smiled. “I highly doubt a thirteen-year-old would have the knowledge or the skills to do any sort of spell that increases your magic.”

Voldemort looked amused, but Hermione could see that his wandhand was tense. “What can I say? I was a very unusual thirteen-year-old.”

“I’m sure,” Daniel said, chuckling. “Look son, we don’t intend to hand you over to the authorities or reveal you, whoever you may be. But we don’t want any trouble either.”

Shannon nodded in agreement. “We’re assuming you are a semi-dark wizard hiding under an alias. Perhaps you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time, or you did something illegal. Either way, we don’t want to know. However, I think you’ll forgive us for not trusting you. We are happy to tell you everything we know about what it means to have a Shared Flame, and I’m hoping you’ll tell us about your experiences with the bond. But we want a wand oath from both of you, as a guarantee that you won’t harm us.”

Hermione did her best not to gape at them. How could they still want anything to do with them after having figured out that at least Voldemort was a dark wizard? Okay, Voldemort had told her Shannon had been a known dark witch back in the days, but still …

“I have no plans of harming either one of you,” Voldemort said, leaning back in the couch with a shrug. “And I have no problem taking an oath that will prevent me from harming you, unless attacked. But then I want an oath from you that you will not spread any information about us to an outsider. In fact, don’t even mention that you know us.”

Shannon nodded in agreement. She and Daniel went first, promising exactly what Voldemort had proposed, and then Voldemort and Hermione did the same. Hermione felt a bit weird about it. Did they really think that just because she was together with Voldemort she was inclined to harm them for no reason? Sure, she could see that it was merely a precaution from their side, but it was still bizarre. She had been raised with the notion to think the best of people, unless they did something suggesting the opposite. But the Alpertons had been nothing but friendly to her, and she wouldn’t even have considered asking them to take an oath. Yet, both they and Voldemort behaved like this was completely normal. She wasn’t be too surprised about Voldemort, though. He trusted no one. But why did others behave the same way? Perhaps it had something to do with spending too much time among people practicing Dark Arts.

Hermione was suddenly certain that this house wasn’t their real house. If they thought there was a chance someone would come after them and hurt them, then surely they wouldn’t give that person their real address.

She mentally sighed. Wasn’t it exhausting being so on your guard all the time?

Keeping her questions to herself, she focused on the conversation at hand.

“What have you discovered about your bond already?” Shannon asked, taking a biscuit.

Voldemort sent a look to Hermione that told her he would do the talking. “It’s very enjoyable to touch each other, and we can see into each other’s mind without Legilimency.”

Hermione could just barely resist rolling her eyes. That was basically what Bäcker’s book said. Clearly he didn’t want to tell these people more than he absolutely had to.

Daniel nodded. “If you can see into each other’s mind, then you should also be able to speak to each other without words if you are touching.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, very intrigued. “How?”

“You aim your thoughts towards the other person, and he or she must be open to the connection. It takes a bit of practice, but it’s easy once you get the hang of it,” Shannon explained and took her husband’s hand to illustrate.

Voldemort took Hermione’s hand, their fingers intertwining. Hermione tried to open her mind and listen to him. Suddenly she heard his voice, like he was whispering to her: “Testing, testing, Hermione could really use a spanking for being a naughty little …”

“Oi!” Hermione smacked Voldemort’s hand.

He smirked at her. The Alpertons were smiling as well, as if they could guess what Voldemort had just said. It made Hermione blush.

“Now you try,” Voldemort said, grasping her hand again.

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to focus. Maybe it was because she wasn’t an expert at Legilimency, but she wasn’t able to make him hear her at all.

“Are you blocking me out?” Hermione asked, irritated.

“Why would I? You aren’t trying to break it,” Voldemort answered.

“Oh, you know Occlumency?” Shannon asked.

Voldemort nodded.

“That can sometimes interfere,” Shannon explained. “If you drop your Occlumency shield, you may be able to hear her, and then, you’ll feel the difference between mind-talking and an invasion of your mind. When you can distinguish between the two, you can exclude her from the Occlumency shield.”

Voldemort nodded again. “We’ll try that when we get home then.”

Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. Of course Voldemort wouldn’t want to risk dropping his shields in front of strangers.

“Is there something else you can do with the bond?” Voldemort asked. He hadn’t let go of Hermione’s hand. He was stroking the back of her hand with his thumb, calming her down.

“Not so fast,” Shannon said with a smile. “Before that, we are actually very curious to ask you about something.”

Hermione didn’t feel like it was more than right that they had a chance to ask them things, so before Voldemort could object, she said, “Oh? Like what?”

“You have another child, yes?”

Hermione and Voldemort nodded.

“Does she have magical powers?”

“Yes, quite a bit, actually,” Voldemort answered, his tone almost bragging.

“Really?” This seemed to surprise the other couple quite a bit. “Did you use some sort of fertility help?”

“No. We hadn’t intended to get pregnant,” Voldemort said.

Hermione held back a snort. That was the understatement of the year. However, it was also a lie. The fairies had helped them. Suddenly, Hermione got worried.

Shannon exchanged a look with her husband. “You must have been new to the Dark Arts, Marcus.”

“What makes you think that?” Voldemort asked, but Hermione could sense that he already knew the answer.

“One of the first side-effects of meddling with the Dark Arts is infertility. That is why very few Shared Flame couples have children. We only know of two. In one case, the child turned out to be a Squib, another side-effect of the mother’s use of the Dark Arts. In the other, the parents hadn’t been practicing the Dark Arts. But that was a … surprisingly untalented couple. The wizard who had created the bond had tried the ritual to gain more magical power, not knowing what it really was he was doing. But they were happy together.”

“Were?” Hermione asked, suspicious.

“They died in the war,” Daniel said, shaking his head in sorrow. “She was a Muggle-born, and as such, she was sent to Azkaban during the Dark Lord’s regime. Didn’t last more than a month. He followed her, as they usually do.”

“Usually do?” Voldemort asked with a frown.

“Ah yes, that’s another effect of the bond, I suppose,” Shannon answered. “If one of the couple dies, the other follows within a few months. We aren’t sure why. Part of it is grief, of course, but it also seems like there is something else to it. Maybe it’s the bond, not letting go even in death, infecting the living part. They wither away.”

Voldemort’s grip was hard around her hand, and Hermione knew he was scared even though he didn’t show it. She felt both worried and a little relieved by it. On one hand, if she died (hopefully of old age), he wouldn’t have the chance to become a Dark Lord again. On the other hand, if Voldemort were killed (which wasn’t all that unlikely if Harry ever managed to find a way around the spell), she would follow, leaving both their children orphaned. That scared her.

Voldemort seemed to overcome his fear faster than her, because he continued his questioning.

“What happened to their children after they died?”

“They were both past their twenties when it happened. The girl moved to Brazil, and the boy is working at the Ministry last I heard. Both are much more talented than their parents,” Daniel said in a much happier tone.

That made Hermione think of Althea. She was a very powerful witch, and Hermione wouldn’t be surprised if Althea turned out to be more powerful than her or Voldemort. How was that possible? Voldemort must have meddled just as much with the Dark Arts as Shannon, and evidently, she didn’t have any children. Was it only because of the fairies they could have children? Or had it something to do with his new body? Did this also have something to do with why the fairies had chosen Althea as their vessel? Because she was evidently a powerful witch already. How could that be, though? Shouldn’t Althea have been a Squib, just like the child of the more powerful couple? The fairies must have had something to do with it. Hermione could see the fairies wanting to have access to that kind of power—for what reason she didn’t know. However, she had spent enough time with Voldemort to realise that power mattered.

They talked for a while longer after that, but Hermione couldn’t take her mind of what could be happening to Althea and she hardly heard what was being said. When they finally Apparated back home, Hermione couldn’t keep the question to herself any longer.

“Do you think Althea will be more powerful than us?” she asked, looking up at Voldemort.

Voldemort sighed. “Considering how powerful she is already, I think there is a chance she will be. It would explain why the fairies are so interested in her.”

“I thought so, too. But to what end? What do they need the power for?”

Voldemort shrugged. “If they can use Althea’s magic, without having her acceptance, then I guess they can do a lot of things with the magic. Last we saw Morgana, she practically told us they wanted to walk this earth again. But they could also want revenge for their imprisonment, enslave wizards or destroy the world. Or maybe they want to use Althea’s powers to redecorate. Maybe a little of everything from the above. Fairies are tricky beings.”

“Then, how will we be able to stop them? I don’t want them using my daughter!” Hermione exclaimed, starting to pace.

She wanted to go and get Althea immediately, but the nanny had taken Althea to the theatre. There was a play for children her age being performed now. It wouldn’t be finished for another half an hour, and Hermione didn’t want to cause a scene by interrupting it, just to get her daughter.

“I don’t want them using our daughter either,” Voldemort said, leaning against the window sill. “We have already stopped them for contacting her here. That keeps them from strengthening their bond with her. We will find a way to break their bond completely in due time. But we have years to do that. Althea won’t reach full strength until she is out of Hogwarts, and I highly doubt they will try to use her before she is of age. As long as she is underage, the Ministry can find her if she, or someone else, is using her magic outside of our house or Hogwarts. The fairies can’t get to her here nor at Hogwarts. The protection is too great.”

Hermione stopped and took a deep breath. Yes, he was right. As long as Althea was with them or at Hogwarts, she would have protection of some sort.

“We should tell her about the fairies, though. So she can be on guard.”

Voldemort grimaced. “I’m not sure that is such a wise idea. If she wants to rebel against us, she may try to contact them if she is aware of them.”

“Why would she rebel against us?”

“Children do that,” Voldemort replied. “I’m not willing to take that risk.”

“We can’t just lie to her!”

“We aren’t lying, we are protecting her. Besides, I didn’t say we can never tell her. If we haven’t found a way to break the bond when she turns seventeen, then we should definitely tell her. However, if we manage to break the bond—and I think we will—then there is no reason to worry her about it.”

Hermione couldn’t really argue with his reasoning. However, she thought Althea would be old enough to know the truth at a much younger age than seventeen. Perhaps when she began school? But hopefully, they had managed to break the bond long before then.

She sank on the couch.

“For now, we have a more pressing problem,” Voldemort said and came over to her, sitting down on the coffee table in front of her.

Hermione looked up, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“You are pregnant,” he said slowly.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at him. “Really, Voldemort, are you catching up on that just now?”

He rolled his eyes. “What I mean is, Shannon is right. Using the Dark Arts makes you infertile. I can understand why we had Althea; I had got a whole new body and thus hadn’t used any Dark Arts with it. But over the past five years, I have. Not as much as I had with my old body, but I have used the Dark Arts to change my body to the better.”

Hermione wanted to say that she highly doubted that the Dark Arts could improve anything, but then, his meaning came across. “So … why am I pregnant?”

Voldemort smiled. “Exactly. I can think of two reasons, both having to do with the fairies. Either, they made me super-fertile when they created this body for me, making sure I would get you pregnant, or that diamond I placed on your stomach had a more permanent effect than we thought. Or maybe it’s a bit of both.”

“But I though you saw that there was no fairy magic left inside me,” Hermione objected.

“There isn’t, but they could still have made your womb a very friendly place. It’s not unnatural, just unusual.”

Hermione frowned. “Then, what’s the problem? We have already decided to keep this child.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant that we may have a problem in the future. I do think two children is more than enough; however, I’m not sure if an ordinary contraceptive will do the trick for us.”

“They did last year, before I stopped taking it.”

“I know. But what if you forget to take it, just for a day? Or what if you get food poisoning again? How can we be sure an ordinary contraceptive potion is effective then?”

“So what do you suggest?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing drastic, just another, more effective contraceptive potion. It lasts for thirteen moon-cycles because of an active magical component. It’s tricky to make, but as you know, I can do everything.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Fine. I don’t see that as a problem, really. I think two children is enough as well. Or is there some sort of horrible side-effect to it?”

“Not usually. However, because of our Shared Flame, you could become even hornier because you have a bit of my magic active inside of you.”

She snorted. “I’m sure you are looking forward to that.”

“I don’t think I’ll complain,” he said with a grin.

xxx

A week later, Voldemort was doing what he liked the most: fucking Hermione.

“I wish there was a way I could stay in here forever,” he mumbled against her ear as he slowly thrusted into her from behind. They were both lying on their side, with him spooning her.

“Less talk, more fucking,” Hermione answered, wriggling against him to make him move faster.

“I was complimenting you,” he objected. “I thought women liked compliments during sex.”

“Women don’t come in just one copy, Voldemort,” she growled. “Fuck me harder and stop talking.”

“This is hardly a position to fuck you hard in,” he replied and nibbled her neck teasingly.

“Then move! I need something hard to send me over the edge.”

Sighing but not minding at all, he complied by moving them both so she was standing on her knees with him behind her. He grabbed her thighs and pushed her legs apart so he could stand between them, thrusting inside her again. Hermione moaned and started to thrust back against him. He gripped her hips tightly and stilled her.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you hard,” he taunted, staying perfectly still inside her.

“Well, you seemed unable to do the work prop—” He cut her off by withdrawing his cock almost all the way out and then slamming back inside her, and she hissed in pleasure as her climax overtook her.

He was just about to come as well when someone knocked on the front door. Voldemort ignored it and continued to pound inside his fiancée as hard as he could.

“What if Mrs Cooper and Althea are back early?” Hermione objected. However, she didn’t try to move away.

“Ten. More. Seconds.” He groaned and pushed inside her three more times before climaxing.

When he had fallen down on the bed again, Hermione wriggled out from underneath him and wrapped a dressing gown around her body before walking out of the bedroom. Voldemort stayed put, convinced it was someone trying to sell something. He doubted it was Althea. He had given Mrs Cooper enough money so that they could spend a whole day at the zoo. Hermione had been extra horny today, and Voldemort wanted to encourage that.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

Hermione’s question made Voldemort sit up in the bed abruptly.

“I wanted to talk to you. Is he here?”

That was indeed Harry Potter’s voice.

Voldemort rose, curious to find out what Potter wanted. Neither him nor Hermione had seen the Potters since the wedding. Hermione had been in contact with Molly Weasley, making sure they were alright, but other than that, not a word. Voldemort was surprised it had taken Harry so long to gather the courage to come and visit. They still had things to settle, after all.

He wrapped his own dressing gown around him, wanting Potter to know what he had just interrupted. It would be more fun that way.

When he reached the hallway, Potter did indeed look very uncomfortable but determined, too.

“We need to talk,” the younger man said.

“Oh, are you breaking up with us?” Voldemort asked, making a dramatic gesture of being worried as he walked up to them.

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

“Please, come in,” Hermione said to Harry, dragging Voldemort back to the living room. She was looking equally uncomfortable.

Potter followed them and sat down on an armchair while Hermione pulled Voldemort down on the couch next to her. Voldemort knew she did it because she wanted to be able to stop him physically if he tried to hurt Potter. What she hadn’t realised was the impression this gesture gave Potter. It looked like Hermione was on Voldemort’s side. Voldemort happily reinforced the impression by grasping Hermione’s hand.

“So,” Voldemort said after they had all been silent for almost a minute, “how is Ginevra?”

“Not well,” Potter said stiffly. “She is convinced you will show up at any moment to kill us all.”

Hermione squeezed Voldemort’s hand, hard.

“He won’t,” she said forcefully. “He promised me he wouldn’t kill any of you.”

Potter looked at her in a mixture of pain, anger and amusement. “And you believe him?”

“I got him to stop killing Muggles,” Hermione said. “No more bodies have shown up, right?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. He could just have hidden them better,” Potter commented.

Hermione glanced at Voldemort, looking for reassurance.

Voldemort sighed. He didn’t want Potter to know too much about his and Hermione’s relationship. However, he was quite sure he would have to use force if he were to stop Hermione from talking. That would make Potter think that Hermione wasn’t on Voldemort’s side after all. That would make the boy try to “save” Hermione, and that would lead to quite the scene. No, it was better to make Potter think that Voldemort and Hermione were a united force.

“I haven’t killed any more Muggles,” Voldemort finally reassured. “Hermione and I have an agreement, which I’m more than happy to honour.”

Potter stared at Voldemort in disbelief for several seconds. Then he looked back at Hermione, shaking his head.

“Only you would be stubborn enough to convince Lord Voldemort to strike a bargain like that. What I can’t understand is what made you two … get together?”

Voldemort understood why Potter asked the question. He wanted Hermione to be the victim here. Well, Voldemort wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. However, before he had time to answer, Hermione beat him to it.

“For the first few months, I thought he was just Marcus Foster, the man I had slept with the night after the battle at Hogwarts. I wanted Althea to get to know her father, so we started to spend time together. Next thing I knew, we were involved. Then I found out who he really was.”

“And you still decided to stay?” Potter asked. There was no accusation behind his question, just confusion and a bit of pity.

Hermione snorted. “No. Voldemort made sure I stayed.”

“Now, now, Hermione,” Voldemort said softly. “I do think you are making this a little too black and white. I did give you a choice.”

“I believe the choice was either to stay, or you would kill me,” Hermione bit back.

“I didn’t force you to enjoy your stay.”

“You tortured me! I sure as hell didn’t enjoy that!” she exclaimed.

“Not at first, no, but then I recall you ripping my clothes off and fucking me.”

“I’m sure I don't want to hear that,” Potter interjected before Hermione had a chance to retort.

Voldemort smirked at Hermione who was blushing profusely.

“No, that isn’t important. Let’s just say we had our ups and downs for a little while, which culminated in Hermione trying to kill me.”

“What?” Potter asked, looking surprised.

“Can you blame me?” Hermione asked, addressing both of them.

“No,” Potter answered. “But I still don’t get why you decided to stay. I mean, obviously you did.”

“She got kidnapped right after her attempt,” Voldemort said. “You could say that it brought us much closer together.”

He put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders, and she rolled her eyes.

“That was when we made the deal,” Hermione continued. “I stay with him, and in return, he doesn’t kill any more Muggles.”

“I also help provide for our family,” Voldemort filled in helpfully. “You Gryffindors always do so much for your families, don’t you, Harry?”

The murderous glint in Potter’s eyes returned. If it weren’t for the spell, Voldemort was sure the boy would have attacked him by now.

“What will it take for you to release Ginny from the curse?” Harry asked.

“It will disappear by itself when you are dead,” Voldemort replied calmly. “I can’t trust you, Harry Potter. Surely, you don’t blame me for that.”

Potter had such a hard grip of the arms of the chair that his knuckles turned white. Hermione gently pulled Voldemort’s arm off her and stood up. She tied the knot of her dressing gown tighter and walked over to her friend, crouching at the side of the armchair.

“Harry,” she said softly, putting her hand on his. “I’m so sorry you got caught up in this.”

Potter took a deep breath before turning to Hermione. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

He sounded mystified.

“Another spell. Not the same type he has on you, just something that makes sure I can’t say anything that reveals him, even by accident,” Hermione explained with a sigh.

Potter gripped her hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through this alone. If only I’d figure it out sooner—”

“Yes, yes, you’d come riding on your broomstick, swept Hermione away and used your spectacular Expelliarmus to save the day,” Voldemort said dryly, cutting Potter off. Their drama was giving him a headache.

Potter and Hermione both glared at him. Voldemort rolled his eyes and stood up.

“You were friends with Hermione for seven years at Hogwarts, Harry. Did she ever really strike you as the kind of girl who needs saving?” He took her hand from Potter’s and pulled her up. “If she really had wanted to kill me, she would have succeeded. She did manage to off Lucius after all, even after he had taken her wand.”

He traced her cheekbone with his thumb. “Hermione is one of the most resourceful women I’ve ever met. She is brilliant, brave and headstrong. If she didn’t want to be here, Potter, do you really think you would have found us having sex in the middle of the afternoon?”

Hermione was blushing, but she still managed to glare at him while saying, “You know as well as I do that if things were different, I wouldn’t have chosen you.”

“Oh, no, you would of course have chosen one of the thousand boys you were with the four years you were in Australia. Oh, no, wait, you didn’t have a single date before we got together.”

“I was waiting for the right one!”

“Yes, me!”

Hermione pressed her lips together. “No. I was focusing on my career. I didn’t want to get stuck in Australia, and it was just as well that I didn’t, because I got the scholarship to Oxford. If you hadn’t been here, I would still have it, and then, I would have got my doctorate. Then, I could have focused on finding someone.”

“Like who?” Voldemort asked sceptically. It wasn’t like anyone could ever come close to competing with him.

“Some other professor or doctor, someone who is interested in the same things as me. I didn’t want someone whom I couldn’t talk to about my own research.”

He crossed his arms. “It almost sounds like you have someone in mind. Should I be worried about this mysterious doctor ... who?”

Silence fell. Hermione and Voldemort glared at each other. He didn’t think that Hermione actually had someone in mind, but he wanted to make it clear to Potter as well.

“Well?” Voldemort finally asked when Hermione didn’t answer.

“I don’t have anyone in mind!” Hermione exclaimed. “That was what I was thinking when I was still in Australia. I know it won’t happen now.”

“So, I don’t count as being a professor or a researcher that you can talk to about your work?” Voldemort asked, annoyed.

“Well, yes, but I hadn’t pictured him being a mass murderer on the side,” Hermione muttered.

Voldemort snorted.

Right them, Potter finally rose as well.

“Er …” Potter trailed off, looking like he had forgotten how to pronounce words. “Hermione may be able to deal with this, but I’m not sure how I’ll be able to.”

“Find a way,” Voldemort commented dryly. He had hoped Potter would be so uncomfortable that he would just leave.

“But how? How can I just sit by when I know you are here, doing Merlin knows what,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead. “It doesn’t matter that you supposedly aren’t killing Muggles anymore. I don’t for one second believe that you are just playing house with Hermione all day long.”

Hermione placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let me worry about him. The spell doesn’t stop you from being with Ginny and doing your job. Think positive, at least now you know where he is and that he has someone guarding him.”

Voldemort let out a bark of laughter.

Hermione sighed. “Fine, keeping him in a good mood then. He can’t dominate the world when we are … you know, ‘busy’.” She withdrew her hand, looking quite uncomfortable again.

“But what about you?” Harry asked, looking up at Hermione, worry shining through his eyes. “Who will make sure you are safe?”

“Well, he hasn’t killed me yet, has he?” Hermione remarked. “And you heard what he said; he thinks I’m brilliant and all that. Besides, I can take care of myself. I give back as good as I get.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes. Now they were getting all fluffy again. However, since it looked like Hermione was actually managing to convince Potter to go and stay away, Voldemort let them be.

“He is Lord Voldemort, Hermione,” Potter said in a low voice. “All he does is bring destruction and pain.”

Hermione sighed. “I know what he has done, Harry, and sometimes, I hate him. But … he helped me create Althea and this one, and … I have never experienced such love as the love I have for my children. You’ll understand soon enough.”

Potter glanced over at Voldemort, then back at Hermione. “Do you love him?”

Hermione snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. Listen, you are the cleverest person I know, but Voldemort can manipulate anyone to do anything. And he can work on you every day. Doesn’t that worry you?”

Voldemort could see Hermione tense slightly before she answered.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. I can only make the best of the situation, and so should you. Go home to Ginny. She is carrying your baby; the least you can do is make it as easy for her as possible. Give her a foot rub. You can both live a happy life, and all you have to do is pretend that Voldemort is Marcus when you see him. I’ll make sure you don’t have to see him more than necessary.”

Voldemort could see Potter cave, even though the worry never left the insipid boy.

Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and hugged her tightly. “If you need to get away from him, come to me. Hiding you isn’t hurting him.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Hermione said softly.

Voldemort frowned. Why wasn’t Hermione saying that she wouldn’t be in need of any hiding? Surely, she didn’t plan to leave him and go into hiding? He thought he had made amends for what had happened last week.

However, since he didn’t want to give Potter a reason to stay, he waited until Hermione had said her goodbyes and closed the door behind Potter before asking: “Are you planning to leave?”

“Of course not,” Hermione said with a sigh. “And if I did, I wouldn’t take Harry up on his offer. I know he would be the first person you’d interrogate if I went missing.”

Well, she was right about that. Still, it didn’t hurt to remind her why she shouldn’t be leaving. With sex. He took her hand again and pulled her closer to him. However, when he leaned down to kiss her, she averted his lips.

“He is right about you though,” Hermione said.

Voldemort sighed in frustration. “Right about what?”

She brought her hand up to his chest. His dressing gown was gaping, and she trailed her fingers through the hairs of his chest. “You are constantly manipulating me.”

He would be insulting her intelligence if he tried to deny it. “So?”

Hermione smiled bitterly. “This is probably the most fucked-up relationship of all time.”

“I find myself repeating myself: So?”

Hermione sighed. Then, she allowed him to kiss her.

xxx

It was the middle of the night when Harry woke up, feeling like something was there in his bedroom with him. For a second, he thought that Ginny had come home early from her trip with her Quidditch team—after their latest victory, the team had decided to take a spa-weekend to congratulate themselves. But no warm body was lying next to him. He found the light switch and put his glasses on.

“Hello, Harry Potter.”

Harry grabbed his wand and aimed it at the strange woman who was standing in the corner of the room, right next to the window. She was a tall, beautiful woman with thick, black hair and a pale skin tone. It was so pale that it actually looked a little transparent.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked.

Since the woman hadn’t attacked him and seemed to be unarmed, Harry didn’t want to just cast a spell on her. Unlike some of his colleagues, he wasn’t the type to curse first and ask questions later.

“My name is Morgana, and I’m here because we have a common enemy.”

The woman walked closer to the bed. Harry’s eyes narrowed. That wasn’t right. She didn’t walk; she floated. As she came closer, he also noticed that she was indeed a bit transparent.

“And what are you?” he wondered. “A ghost?”

She shook her head with her lip quirking. “I’m of the old fairies. We have lived her for a very, very long time, but we seldom interact with humans. Now, however, our very existence is at risk. All because of Tom Riddle.”

Voldemort.

Harry could feel his insides clench. His talk with Voldemort and Hermione hadn’t made things better. Who knew what Voldemort was planning? And Harry could do nothing to stop it! If he did, his wife and unborn child would die. Then again, Hermione was in danger all the time. How could he just let Voldemort get away with whatever it was he was doing to Hermione? Despite her reassurances, Harry couldn’t believe that Hermione was happy with Voldemort. Maybe she had settled for him and was making the best of the situation, but Harry was still worried.

He also felt guilty for not noticing that anything was wrong. There had been so much else going on in his life, with his own marriage and career, that he hadn’t taken into account that they had drifted apart during the past four years.

That was not an excuse though. He had as good as abandoned her when she had left for Australia. He should have supported her when she had found out she was pregnant. He was sure that if he had, Voldemort would never have got so close to her without anyone realising it. And now, there was another person whom Voldemort was hurting.

“What has Voldemort done to you?” Harry asked.

“He has stolen what is ours,” Morgana said with a pained expression. “He has captured one of our children and keeps her hidden from everyone. We want your help, Harry Potter, in getting her back.”

Harry felt hope rising in his chest. He so wanted to get back at Voldemort, for everything. If the fairies had some plan, he could make things right again. Make sure Hermione got away from him and didn’t have to fear him anymore. He would save Ginny.

“What can I do?”

“We can undo Tom Riddle’s curse on your wife. It will take time. Years. But we can do it. When we have done it, you’ll tell your people where he is hiding and take him prisoner. That way, Tom Riddle will have to leave our child and we can bring her home again. Can you do that, Harry Potter?”

“If you know a way to break the curse, why not do it now?”

Morgana saddened. “It’s not possible yet. Our magic works in a different way than yours. Much power is needed to break this spell. In seven years, then we will be able to do it.”

Seven years?

Harry felt his hope falter. Could he really let Hermione suffer for seven years? Then again, what choice did he have? He didn’t know how to break the Occulta Mors Curse. He could research, but that would take time as well since he had to do it alone. He had never been very good at the whole researching thing. However, if he agreed to this, it didn’t stop him from finding his own way to break the spell. If it were possible, as this fairy said, then perhaps he could find a quicker way? If he didn’t, then seven years was better than forever.

“How will I know when the time is right?” Harry asked.

“We’ll keep in contact with you, Harry Potter. Thank you.” Morgana faded away with a soft sigh.

END PART ONE

A/N: Okay, I hope I’m not freaking anyone out thinking this is the end and you have to wait months for the next story to be posted. You won’t. Next chapter will come as fast (or slow) as every other chapter, and will be posted in this story, as always. I’ve just decided to give the story this structure. The next chapter will be an intermezzo. Chapter 35 will be the beginning of part two and takes place seven years into the future.
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