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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
- 3
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I want to thank Serpent in Red and Perfect Imagination’s Tomione Fan for betaing this chapter and bringing the narrative of this chapter together. And thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing!

Chapter 3

Hermione was quite taken aback by his sudden outburst. She hadn't meant to sound like she was dwelling on the past. In fact, she hadn't given it much thought at all until she met him again. Was it so weird for her to have questions about the only time she had sex?

No! She refused to apologise.

“I'm just trying to figure out whether I want you in our lives now or not,” she replied coldly. “I did try to find you when I realised I was pregnant, but I didn't. I accepted that I would have to raise Althea alone. Now you are suddenly here. How am I supposed to take that?”

Marcus closed his eyes for a moment, and Hermione was surprised to realise that he was trying to hold back his anger. What did he have to be angry about? He was the one who invited her over to talk.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure how I’m supposed to take this myself. It's not like this is a common situation for me either,” he finally muttered. “But I've told you why I acted as I did. And no, for what it's worth, I'm not seeing anyone.”

It made her strangely happy that he hadn't found anyone else either. It would be even more embarrassing than it already was if he had a girlfriend or wife or something like that. She couldn't imagine how that conversation would go.

“Okay. And you don't have any other children?”

He shook his head. “No. With you being the notable exception, I do make a habit of actually knowing the women I sleep with and making sure they aren’t pregnant.”

“That is good, I guess,” she said, not sure if he meant it as a joke or not. Apart from Ron and Harry, she wasn’t really good at reading men when it came to more private things. Since she didn’t want to make a fool of herself, she decided that it was best to change the subject. “Do you have any questions for me? Or should we start discussing how we should make this work?”

Marcus blinked, perhaps surprised that she was changing the subject and letting go of the past. He sat down in the armchair again and put one leg on top of the other.

“Well, I'm interested to know how you managed to take care of her and yet finish university with a bachelor’s degree.”

“My parents helped me raise her.” She glanced at Althea who was starting to look bored. “Or actually, they did most of the raising.”

“I see.” The fact did not appear to surprise him. “How come you moved away from them?”

“I thought it was about time I took a bigger part in my daughter's life. And when this opportunity arose, I thought it would be an excellent way to be with Althea and still further my academic career. I'll study half-time for the first couple of semesters to see if and how I manage. Professor Cox-Trotter was most sympathetic about my personal situation.”

He snorted. “I bet she was. She will no doubt brag for ages about how she managed to get the famous Hermione Granger to Oxford.”

She frowned, a new thought occurring to her. “Yes, a lot of people seem to know who I am after what I did in the war. You never saw me in the newspapers after the war was over?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, no, I don’t think so. After the night we ... slept together, I went to Japan to work on my doctoral thesis. I guess I heard your name in passing a few times, but I never made the connection.”

She guessed that sounded reasonable, but there was something about his casual manner that made her doubt that he was telling her the whole truth. Although, why would he lie about not knowing who she was before last night? They’d met in a Muggle pub, and neither of them had done any magic. He’d probably assumed she was a Muggle, just like she’d thought he was.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a complaining noise from Althea followed by a lot of hissing. Hermione watched Marcus questioningly.

“She's bored,” he translated.

Once again, Hermione felt a tug of jealousy and self-doubt. How could she not have realised that her daughter spoke Parseltongue?

“What does she want to do?” she asked him.

He frowned at her. “Don't you think it would be better if you asked her yourself?”

“But I ...” She bit her lip. Damn, she was doing it again: trying to put the responsibility on someone else. She looked at her daughter. “What do you want to do? I could go and get some of your books?”

Althea shook her head.

“Do you want your teddy bear?”

Another negative response.

Hermione thought hard. “Do you want me to make magical bubbles that you can chase around?”

Now Althea’s face started shining, and she nodded enthusiastically.

Hermione smiled back, relieved that she could find something for her daughter to do. “Try not to break anything.”

Althea hardly heard—she was looking expectantly at her mother's wand. Hermione waved it so several bright coloured bubbles emerged. Quickly, they started floating around in the air. Althea let out a scream of happiness and tried to catch them. Hermione watched her for a while before she turned to Marcus again. He was watching the girl in amusement as well. Their daughter. The thought felt very strange. To Hermione, he didn't feel like the father of her child yet.

When he noticed she was watching him, his smile widened. “See, you do understand what she needs.”

She smiled, thankful for the reassurance. “I just wish she would learn to speak English soon.”

“She will. Try to show her how to articulate it properly.”

She nodded. “You really seem to know a lot about these things. Thanks for the suggestion.” She paused. “For Althea’s best interest, I guess we should work out how to do this between us then. You mentioned something about keeping it a secret?”

“Mostly to protect you,” he said, leaning forward in the chair. “Cox-Trotter may believe you when you say that you had no idea who I was and that nothing is going on between us now, but ... well, there is a lot of pettiness around here, and there are still some people who believe women and Muggle-borns shouldn’t be accepted to the university. They would demand an investigation, and believe me, you do not want them dragging up every dirty little secret you may have.”

Her spirit lessened when she heard that. She knew that everything Cox-Trotter had done for her could be seen as special treatment as well. There were probably a lot of people who wouldn’t mind kicking her out because of pure jealousy.

“I guess you are right. We should keep it to ourselves. Besides, it’s nobody’s business. Nothing is going on between us. It’s not like you are giving me a higher grade or anything like that, right?”

“Not at all,” he said with a laugh. “I wouldn't give anyone a higher grade just because they are good in bed.”

She froze. Did he mean that she’d been good in bed or was it just a hypothetical statement? She scowled at herself for caring about such frivolous things and relaxed. It didn't matter. They were not together after all.

“Right,” she said slowly, not really knowing how to respond to his comment with some eloquence. “Good.” She took in a deep breath of air, focusing back on the true issue at hand. “So, neither of us tells anyone about this. However, that will make it harder for you if you want to spend time with Althea,” she realised.

That thought seemed to have just occurred to him as well because he looked at Althea, who was chasing a bubble around the kitchen table, and he frowned.

“In public, yes,” he said contemplatively. “However, since we will be neighbours, everyone will understand if you need help in an emergency. But ... at other moments, we will just have to be sneaky. I mean, if you want me to spend time with her?”

“Well, I think it would be good for Althea to know her father. But I'll be there when you spend time with her. I don't know you, and I won't let my daughter be alone with a stranger.”

Even though she was sure about her statement, she still felt silly for saying it. True, it was always better to be clear from the start. Or so her mother had told her several times. Helen had even said that men in particularly needed to be told what was okay and what wasn’t. Otherwise, they would take advantage of you. Several times, Hermione had been forced to listen to Helen’s accusations that Marcus had only taken advantage of her and that she needed to be more careful in the future.

“Of course,” he agreed. Then he hesitated. “When did you plan to meet a Healer?”

“Next week, why?”

“Well, I know a thing or two about healing. Would it be alright if I looked at her first?”

She studied him closely. His dark blue eyes appeared very sincere, but there was something... She couldn't put her finger on it, but she just knew there was something that seemed familiar about him in a bad way. Although, she was sure she’d never seen such a gorgeous man before or since that one night four years ago.

“What do you expect to find?” she asked, glancing at Althea. The girl just caught one of the bubbles that circled around the kitchen table’s leg. The bubble exploded into red sparkles, and Althea let out a squeal of joy.

“I'm not sure,” he said slowly. “But there is something strange going on. I can see that the girl is very powerful for her age, and then … there is this touching thing between you and me. I've never heard about anything like it before. It's fascinating.”

Or scary, Hermione thought. Nevertheless, being around academicians for so long, she learnt that almost anything could be “fascinating” in one way or another.

“I guess it couldn't hurt,” she replied. “Unless it's dangerous?”

He shook his head. “I'll just run some diagnostic spells over her. Perhaps take a blood sample.”

“Very well, when do you want to do it?”

“Tomorrow? I need to look up some things first so I'm sure I do them correctly.”

It was reassuring that he was so thorough. “Then, perhaps we should continue this discussion tomorrow? When we have got some time to sleep on what it is we want?”

He nodded. “Sounds reasonable. Shall I come by tomorrow evening then?”

“Yes, perhaps at six? Althea usually goes to bed around eight.”

“I'll be there at six then.” He rose, and so did she.

The awkward moment appeared when she wasn't sure if she should shake his hand or hug him. How did you say good-bye to a person you had slept but not kept in touch with? Althea saved her. A bubble came in Hermione's direction. When Althea rushed to catch it, Hermione captured her instead.

“Let's go and start with lunch,” she told her daughter.

Althea let out a happy squeal. She hissed something at Marcus, and he laughed. Hermione realised she felt much more relaxed, now that she knew Althea could talk, only not in English yet. Ever since her parents had brought it up, she’d been worried there might be something mentally wrong with her daughter. It was nice to know there probably wasn’t.

Marcus held the door open for her, and she smiled, wishing him a good day.

Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get Althea to speak English until it was time for dinner. Later, when the girl had gone to bed, she began redecorating the flat. In the living room, the walls got a bright, blue colour. The armchairs and sofa changed and got new, more comfortable cushions in grey. She kept the table black since she liked it. She also conjured up more bookshelves and filled them with the books she hadn't been able to place in the bookshelves already in her bedroom. The few paintings she had were placed on different walls. After that, she transfigured the curtains to a dark grey with red dots. Once she was done, the flat felt much homier.

Looking at the result with satisfaction one more time, she went to get ready for bed. Last night’s sleep had been disturbed by her nerves over meeting Marcus again as well as homesickness. Tonight, she hoped to sleep well.

When Althea woke her up at seven the next morning, Hermione felt more well-rested than the day before and didn't mind cooking them breakfast. She wasn't very good at it, but two portions of porridge she could manage. Her parents had always insisted on not allowing Althea to eat all those “sugar-infested, health-risk” cereals, which were so popular. Her mother had gone so far to say: “If Althea is hungry enough, she will eat what we serve her”. Helen had claimed that it had worked well on Hermione when she was young.

Apparently, they were right. Nowadays, Althea ate almost everything Hermione served her. Although, she did let her daughter point out what sort of extras she wanted in her porridge: apples, pears, cinnamon or cowberry. Althea was most fond of cinnamon but usually wanted to mix it with something else. Today, she wanted pears.

Having renewed her subscription, Hermione read the Daily Prophet for the first time in years. Since Althea wanted attention, Hermione read the news out loud for her. However, she almost choked on a pear when she read the line: “The Boy Who Lived engaged!”. Underneath was a picture of Harry giving Ginny a peck on the cheek as they stood outside the Ministry. Hermione couldn't say she was surprised that Harry and Ginny were getting married, but she was a bit sad that they hadn't told her themselves. Had they really grown that far apart? She decided to find out.

So, after breakfast, she sat down to write a letter to them, telling them she was back in Britain and would love to meet them if they had a chance. She wrote down her address and made a mental note to ask Marcus if the school had any owls she could borrow. She hadn't bothered to buy one in Australia since both her schools there were more than happy to let their students use them.

The rest of the day she spent trying to teach Althea how to say “Mum” while redecorating the bedroom in warm colours like brown, orange and red. Since the girl hissed at her, Hermione guessed she was trying at least.

At precisely six o'clock, there was a knock on the door. Hermione would have been lying if she claimed she wasn’t nervous about seeing him again, but at least she wasn't sweating rivers like yesterday.

“Good evening,” Marcus greeted her when she let him in. “You have redecorated.”

“Yes, I wanted it to feel a bit cosier,” she replied, glancing at the pile of books he was carrying.

She made a gesture for him to sit down at the kitchen table where Althea was busy drawing on a piece of paper with one of her colourful pencils. The girl just put her green pencil down and grabbed a blue one out of her box. She seemed to mark out the clouds, judging by the fluffy object the girl was drawing at the top the paper. The object in the middle of the paper seemed to be some sort of made-up animal.

“It looks good,” he remarked, gesturing at the seating-area. His eyes went over the place one more time as he placed the books on the table and sat down in the chair next to Althea. “You must be good at Interior Design Transfiguration.”

She shrugged, wondering if there was an “as oppose to” hidden in that statement. No, she was probably just paranoid. Or wasn’t she?

Pushing that thought aside, she walked over to look more closely at the books he’d brought with him. They were all about healing, and she hadn't seen half of them before.

“What exactly do you think you'll find?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don't know. If anything seems strange, I want to be able to check it right away.”

“Okay, sounds good. Anything I should do?”

“I guess you can tell her what we are about to do and that it isn't dangerous,” he offered, nodding at Althea.

Althea was already watching them attentively. Hermione sat down on her knees next to her and took her hands.

“Marcus here will do magic for you. You’ll only feel a small tickling.” Hermione made sure to keep her voice calm so Althea wouldn’t get scared.

However, she needn’t worry. When Althea heard the word “magic”, she brightened and eagerly waited to see the magic. When nothing happened at once, she hissed something. Hermione looked at Marcus.

“She asked when the pretty lights begin,” he answered.

“It will begin when you sit still. Can you do that?” Hermione asked.

When Althea nodded and demonstratively held her limbs and head motionless next, Hermione smiled at her and stroked her cheek before she stood up and stepped away.

Marcus began speaking to Althea in Parseltongue. Apparently, he was explaining things to the girl, too, because she was hissing back, nodding her head and occasionally shaking no.

It still surprised Hermione to hear how natural it sounded coming from them. She’d heard Harry speak it a couple of times, but it had always sounded strange and forced. This sounded as natural as bird song. She realised she wanted to learn Parseltongue but didn't know if she could. When Harry had said that Dumbledore understood it, Hermione had tried but been unable to find any books teaching it.

When Althea sat absolutely still, Marcus began with a diagnostic spell, and Hermione watched fascinated as colours appeared around Althea. She was not good at diagnostic spells. She had focused more on learning how to heal noticeable wounds like broken bones, scratches, bruises and things like that. She could also brew potions for most common illnesses. Those things had, for obvious reasons, seemed more important to learn when you were friends with Harry Potter.

However, when it came down to finding out what complex diseases could be hiding inside a body, she was at a loss. It wasn't that she wasn't interested; she just hadn’t had time to learn. There was so much else to learn in this world!

Marcus, however, seemed to know what he was doing. Even though he didn't speak any of the spells out loud, the colours would sometimes change at a specific place over Althea’s body, and he would zoom in on that specific body part to sort through the various aspects of that colour.

Hermione knew the most basic things: The yellower the colour was, the better. But if it started to get blue, something was probably wrong. Purple indicated you were near death. The colour red meant that you, or a part of your body, were dead.

When he zoomed in on the lower part of Althea’s stomach and the spell turned green, Hermione gasped. She never heard that the colour could turn green.

Marcus frowned but didn't say anything. Instead, he moved up to Althea’s head and looked at the different colours there. There was a small hint of green in her brain when he zoomed in at the different parts. Hermione knew that was where the reptilian brain was located from reading her parents’ books about Muggle biology. What did that mean?

He stopped casting the spell and sat back on the chair. Althea hissed something, and Marcus absentmindedly patted her on the head.

“Yes, you were a very good girl. Why don’t you get back to your colouring?”

Althea, always an obedient child, did as she was told while Marcus led Hermione over to the couch.

“What was that?” Hermione asked carefully.

“I'm not really sure.”

“But you have an idea?”

He grimaced. “I'm not sure, and I don't wish to alarm you.”

She crossed her hands. “Too late. Just tell me and we can work it out together.”

He sighed and pulled a hand through his hair. “I'm suspecting that there is something ... not human in her Triune brain and her reproductive system.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? How could there be something not human inside her?”

He started to look through his books. “That, I do not know. But because it is in the most basic parts of her body, I suspect it's not something we can remove or cure. It's just ... there. However, whatever it is, I’m sure we can find a way to control it if need be.”

Hermione stared at Althea who was drawing in concentration. The girl was not aware of her mother’s confused look.

“But how can this … something be inside of her?”

“I have no idea.”

He answered a little too quickly for her to believe he was completely honest. She put her hands on her hips.

“Really? Why do I get the feeling that you do know?”

He didn't answer. Instead, he began reading. Her eyes narrowed, and she was about to give him a piece of her mind when Althea made a sound. Hermione turned and saw her daughter gaping.

“Hungry?” she asked.

Althea nodded. Hermione couldn’t wait until she was alone with Althea again, so she could try to get her to say “yes” at least. She didn’t want to show Marcus her inability to teach her child simple words.

Hermione looked at Marcus again. He was still staring down at the book with a frown on his forehead. Well, she could give him a piece of her mind after she had fed Althea and eaten something herself. Manners made her ask him if he cared for some dinner, but he declined.

It took maybe half an hour, and then, Althea became sleepy as she usually did after evening meals. Since Marcus still made no indication to move and seemed entranced by the book he was reading, she helped Althea get ready for bed. Luckily, this was not one of those nights she just wouldn't fall asleep. At eight, Hermione could go back to the annoying man sitting on her couch. Just to be sure they wouldn’t wake up Althea, she put an One-Way Silencing Charm on the door. This way no sound would go into the bedroom, but she could still hear it if Althea called.

“So,” she said harshly to make her presence known. “Will you tell me now how come my daughter has something not human inside of her?”

He reluctantly looked up. “I said I didn't know. I'm trying to find out.”

She wasn't sure whether she should believe him or not. Again, she got the feeling he was lying. But why would he do that? He had no reason to, did he? Unless he had some sickness in the family he was embarrassed telling her about? She sat down on the couch next to him, determined to figure out what he was trying to keep from her. Her daughter’s health was at stake after all.

“Don't you have any idea? I can help with research, you know.”

He sighed. “I think I’ve heard about something similar to this before. But I'm not even sure there is anything wrong. She may just be ... different. There is a book I've heard about, but ... I'll have to try to find it. I got some contacts that may be able to help me find it, but it's safer if I do it alone.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You know who I am, right?”

He frowned. “Yes, so...?”

“Did you know I broke into the Ministry and pretended to be a Death Eater supporter to be able to steal something that belonged to Voldemort? Or that I helped Harry break into Gringotts, pretending to be Bellatrix Lestrange? Which I could only do because she left hair on me when she tortured me for knowledge.”

He just stared at her.

“Believe me when I say I can handle almost anything, your contacts included,” she concluded, crossing her arms.

His reply surprised her. “What did you steal?”

She blinked. “What?”

“What did you steal at the Ministry that belonged to Voldemort?”

Why did he sound so angry?

“A Horcrux,” she explained casually, unsure why he seemed to get so angry. “We—Harry, Ron and I—managed to find and destroy four of them. He made seven in total.”

The dark look in his eyes was almost scary, but then he blinked and looked more concerned than angry. “It seems like quite a risky thing for three teenagers to do.”

“Is that it?” she asked, uncrossing her arms again. “You don't think I can manage because I'm young?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, yes. Also, you have a daughter to take care of now. Surely you don't plan to risk making her an orphan?”

She blinked. “If your contacts are that dangerous, why are you even going there yourself?”

“I’ve been able to handle them before. They know me from my previous research and will respect me, despite the fact that they are not pleasant people. And they will be even more unpleasant if you are there. It will just be easier for me if I go alone,” he said, starting to sound annoyed.

Hermione understood that he just didn’t want her there. It made her angry, but she knew she couldn’t force him. Instead, she decided to put his back against the wall, metaphorically.

“Fine. However, even if I did go and got myself killed, Althea would still have you, so she wouldn’t be orphaned. Right?”

“No one knows I’m her father,” Marcus commented, frowning. “And I’m sure your parents would be reluctant to let your daughter be raised by a stranger.”

“You know there are medical ways to determine fatherhood,” Hermione said dryly. “But I guess you are right. My parents wouldn’t like the idea of you raising Althea at all, especially if I can’t tell them I found you. Couldn’t we at least tell my parents that you are Althea’s father?”

He looked very uncomfortable. Then, he sighed, seemingly resigning. “When I’m no longer your teacher, I guess we can tell people the truth. However, I think it would be best if you were actually alive to tell your parents. Besides, I do want a chance to get to know you properly. That would be hard if you got yourself killed.”

The sincerity in his voice made her believe that he was telling the truth about wanting to get to know her. Perhaps they could actually become friends?

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay alive as well so you can get to know me,” Hermione replied, giving him a smile.

“I will do my best,” he promised, smiling back.

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