"So young Riddle, you did as I told you and let her escape. It was wise, for she will never go back to that life. And this will be the last time that she will be able to see the muggle world. In one week she will return here either of her own accord or by force. She will fall in love… eventually. Then you will get married. She will be a Queen." Salazar said as he sat across from Voldemort.

"Why again do I have to do this? She is a mudblood. I will admit that she is attractive, but there is no reason-." Voldemort was cut off when Salazar put up a hand to silence him.

"Do you know what she is? She is a Corpus Tutela, the last of her kind. And I want her in the bloodline, for if she was to give a new member to the Slytherin Line then he or she would be all powerful." Salazar said with a hiss that would rival Voldemorts' own.

Voldemort frowned. He had heard of these people before. They weren't necessarily magic, unless you counted their unusual ability to wield any weapon that was put in their hands. That could explain why Hermione was an assassin. He would have to research... no, he'd make others research. He'd trust Lucius to it. Pettigrew would be unable to find a cookbook in a kitchen if he were given the task. His red eyes snapped to Salazar.

"Why should I have her? What can she do for me? She may be known as the brightest witch of her age, but what can having a Corpus Tutela do for me?"

"A Corpus Tutela is a protector of the body. They are great body guards, but they have a strict code, if they are to marry one they cannot betray the person that they are married to. If you were to marry the girl she will be forever bound as your wife and protector. Imagine having a girl that would never betray you. She would die to protect you. She would give you a strong son who would create an empire for you. She would make our line more powerful." Salazar spoke as if he were trying to convince the entire world that it was flat. It was quite comical to Voldemort to see the ghost of his ancestor pushing for someone of his line to marry a muggle born.

"I think that you have gone soft. She is a muggle born Gryffindor; she is everything that you set your house against all those years ago. What has changed your mind My Lord?" Voldemort asked as respectfully as he could, but there was a hint of a sneer that traced across his features.

"You dare mock an elder boy?" Salazar shot back with venom dripping from his words. This made Voldemort cringe a little, if there was one thing that he didn't want to arouse it was this man's wrath. It may be a dream but Salazar could inflict pain even from beyond the grave.

"No, my lord. I wouldn't want to anger you." Voldemort said in all honesty.

"She belongs in the bloodline. Almost every man in my line had one at some point or another. I had a Corpus Tutela and she was the best thing in the world. She protected me to the very end. Hermione, once she loves and respects you will do the same. But you are going to have to earn it. She won't be as easy as mine was. The main reason is if you can read into it, I want her so you can continue my line and keeping with tradition you have to marry her like I married mine. It would make me proud to have such a talent in the blood again. Remember to marry one is an honour. You will do as I ask."

"Yes, my lord. You are crystal clear in your request.' Voldemort replied. He wished that Salazar never had gotten this idea into his head, but Voldemort couldn't do a thing about it. He would never go against his elder requested of him. After all that was expected of all dark pureblood families.

"And remember no more questions." With that the dream faded away and Voldemort slept soundly amidst the evil that he had created.



Hermione sat in the alley way that she had apparated into and cried. He knew about her past, she could just tell. He knew what she was. Power was appealing but what he offered wasn't just power. If she were to join him and do what he wanted then she would be bound to serve him, to provide a child. Could she love him enough to do that? Maybe if Hell froze over and God danced around naked in the Tower of London it would happen. What he had said about her mothering a child who contained all of his power was true, but only for her kind. She wiped at her red eyes, letting images of the past float before them.

The day that he came to her was one of the happiest days of her life but it also foretold some of the worst. Hermione had been home for a few days when her mother had called her downstairs. Hermione came bounding downstairs into her parents' living room. Her mother sat across from someone who she couldn't see fully. From what she could see the guest in their living room was a male. He wore dark clothes and a big hat.

"This is Hermione, Erus. My daughter whom you wish to teach." Hermione had never heard her mother address someone with so much respect. Perhaps it was an elder relative.

The so called Erus turned around and removed his hat. There were scars across his face as if he had been in too many fights. His hair was shaved so you couldn't tell what color it was. His eyes, however, were the most striking feature. They were ice blue and they pierced Hermione's soul. She felt as if his gaze could read her mind.

"She will do nicely, for after you she is the last. I will begin training her immediately." His voice was deep and Hermione knew that this was not a man to cross. But his statement made her want to ask questions.

"What do you mean that I am the last? What training?" She asked.

"Hermione have you ever heard of the Corpus Tutela?" He asked as he gestured for her to take the ottoman.

"A little, there are a few myths about them. They were like Amazons but not as adverse to men. And it is rumored that a few of them contained magic." Hermione answered readily. "But they haven't been heard of in a long while."

"Very good child, but I will explain to you fully. The Corpus Tutela are many things. They are spouses, mistresses, assassins and most important they are body guards. They protect those to whom they are bound. Either by friendship, love or a sense of duty. They are a race of women that go back thousands of years. As you said a few of them contained magic. Well a many of them contained a form of magic , but most weren't witches like yourself. (Hermione had been surprised that this man knew her great secret.) But they all contained the ability to wield any weapon that they wished. They learned to do this through meditation and simply by holding the weapons. Usually there is one weapon that appeals to them the most. You seem like a sword type. Your stature gives it away."

Hermione looked at him in disbelief.

"How am I the last of a race that is fable? Is there anyone in the family that is like me?" She asked.

Erus smirked, "Yes, she is in the living room with us. Mrs. Granger, if you could help me convince your daughter I would be much obliged."

Hermiones mum stood up and walked over to Hermione and gave her a hug.

"Mya, I am one. I have been since before you were born. I am bound to your father. But he doesn't know, so won't tell him. Erus was my teacher. He will now be yours."



"Wait, if we are a race of women then why is there a male teacher?" Hermione drew back from her mother's embrace. Erus answered for her mum.

"Because one day over three thousand years ago a holy man, who had once been a war general, recognized a girl that had an uncanny ability to take any weapon and use it to her advantage. He cultivated that girls' skill and the tradition of a man teaching the Corpus Tutela came about. I am a direct descendant of that man. The Corpus Tutela didn't earn their name until the Roman Empire reached its height. You know that they were protectors of the Roman Emperors, a girl named Ophelia was chosen by the first Caesar."

"You say that the Caesar chose her? Can't a Corpus Tutela choose her own?" Hermione asked.

"Yes and no. You see, a leader or a powerful man who exerts an influence on society and would require the services of a Corpus Tutela is given the privilege

of choosing his own Corpus Tutela. Most Corpus Tutela can choose for themselves, like your mother did, but there are a few circumstances when a Corpus Tutela is chosen by a powerful man. Perhaps one day you will be chosen in such a manner" He smiled at her.

"What if I don't want to be chosen? What if I would rather choose for myself."

"If you are chosen then than you must comply. It is an honor to be so distinguished. If a man were to make a formal acknowledgement and request you by his side then you would have no choice but to comply. But I have a feeling that you would fight if it were to happen to you and you found the request…disagreeable." Erus said with a trace of a smirk.

"Damn right I would fight it. But can you attach yourself to someone and not have to be bound?" She asked.

"Only friendship can do that. Whoever is lucky enough to have a Corpus Tutela for a friend has a loyal and steadfast friend till the end." Her mother said.

"What if I was to break the friendship or I let something happen to a friend that I could have prevented?"

"Then you must not create a friendship where a situation like that could happen. If that were to happen you must become a hermit that works on meditation and honing your fighting and killing skills. For you to be free of that a man must choose you in order for you to pursue whom you will protect and whom you won't protect. This is a severe circumstance and I wouldn't wish it on you for all the gold in the world."

"Hermione, this is a big task but I feel that you are up to learning. Will you do it for me? To keep our lines going? Please daughter do it for me." Her mother said.

Hermione looked at her mother then at Erus who would be her teacher. They both looked as if they had so much hope for her. She could use it to protect Harry, he was the one that needed it the most.

"Yes, I will do it." She responded back.

Hermione awoke from her reverie to the sight of a black cat coming out of a trash can. She then realized that she was sitting in a dark alley with night clothes on.

"I think that a good nights sleep would do me good." She muttered out loud as she disapparated to her apartment.



Hermione didn't get a good sleep that night. She kept tossing and turning in her bed. Her dreams were plagued with memories of Harry when he had died and she wasn't able to do anything about it.

The wind whipped against her face, screams rent through the air. Hermione looked at Harry who had been fighting a moment before it had all fallen through. He lay there with a look of anger and sadness permanently imbedded on his face. Hermione had failed; she hadn't protected her best friend. It wasn't fair. She had seen Voldemort, but she hadn't been able to warn Harry in time. Voldemort had just gone in for the kill. Hermione looked around and saw the Death Eaters closing in. Voldemort was so… overjoyed, that he didn't notice her. Hermione knew that she had to get away. She hadn't been able to protect Harry. He had been the only reason that she had continued the tradition. Now, she would have to continue with the tradition of isolation. Damn her mother and Erus for instilling into her mind a sense of duty. Hermione looked around and knew that they had been defeated. It wasn't an honorable thing to do but she had to get out of there. Before anyone could grab her she ran as far and as fast as she could. She didn't know if anti apparition spells had been put up. She ran into the forest and then apparated. A week later the Daily Prophet had published that Voldemort had been successful and they were all under his rule now. After this article there was a list of positions that held political power and every single one was filled with Death Eaters and traitors to the light side. And there was a list of "Outlaws" on the back page. There were too many for Hermione to count. But this was how she knew that most of the Weasley family was alive along with Dumbledore and a number of others. She wasn't included on the list and this had surprised her. She summed it up to two things: she was either being hunted or was assumed dead and missing. This paper had been the last physical contact that Hermione had with the Wizarding World.

Hermione awoke with sweat coming rolling off her face and her hair soggy. She had deliberately pushed that memory to the back of her mind. Harry was the reason that she was isolated and not allowed to attach herself to anyone. And now Voldemort wanted her to attach herself to him. She would have to take it, tradition dictated that. But if he were to harm her then she could take drastic actions to defend herself. Erus had said that if any man were to harm his Corpus Tutela then he was subject to punishment from her or if she were to perish by his hand her relatives could seek revenge. But Hermione no longer had any relatives so she would have to hope that he wouldn't kill her.

Her first thought when Voldemort told her that he wanted her to bear his child was to get away and never return. Then when she reached the alley she had remembered the conversation in which Erus and her mother said that she had to accept their offer (it was more like a demand than an offer). She was going to take it. But dread was running through her veins. What did her new and unwanted job entitle? She knew that she would have to marry Voldemort and bear his child. She was to be his Queen, perhaps once she got to know him or became bold enough she would ask him how he knew what she was.

Voldemort at least had a vague notion on how to respect her kind, but it didn't make anything easier. This mans people had murdered her parents before he had killed Harry in the battle. Hermione was grateful that she had been given what time she had with Harry before she had to undergo isolation. The reason that she hadn't gone into isolation when her parents had been murdered is because she was not bound to them in the way that she was bound to her friends. But she wasn't going to be in isolation any longer. She was going to be married to a man who she despised.

Hermione had one week in which to do whatever she wanted and she planned on doing a few muggle things before she returned permanently to the wizarding world.