Alright this one's been in the works longer than More than a Phase, for a point of reference. Something like two years. I really just wanted to try my hand at the whole "Voldemort's Daughter" thing. Is it bad I'm beginning to like Dark!Hermione better than the original?
Chapter 1: In Plain Sight
"Tell me Draco, what do you think of the girl called Hermione Granger?"
The boy looked incredulously, but answered dutifully mudblood?! I don't think of her. She's not worth my time," he said.
The Dark Lord chuckled softly.
"Well said, my boy, well said. But be honest. If she wasn't a mudblood what would you think of her? Hypothetically speaking of course."
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said,
"She's a know it all. And she talks too much," he said easily, as if these the most obvious of her traits.
"So she's intelligent."
He shrugged.
"To be honest, ridiculously so. It's a shame she's a muggle."
Voldemort smirked.
"How...interesting,"he mused, before pinning Draco with a piercing stare.
"Now Draco, what if I were to tell you that Miss Granger was not a muggleborn?"
Then I would say good for her, still, she's practically the posterchild of all Muggleborns. She the Golden Princess of the light side",
"And if I told you that she was my agent?"
"Then I would wonder if this were purely hypothetical."
Well done Draco, " the snakelike man praised.
"Hermia, you may come out now," he called.
Footsteps echoed in the hall, but Draco could not see anyone approaching.
Suddenly, a tap on his shoulder made him jerk around, his hand reaching for his wand instinctively. That same invisible person pinched his cheek and then tapped his nose.
A female voice giggled at his confusion.
"Stop teasing girl, and take off the cloak," Voldemort ordered, although to Draco's shock, he seemed more amused than angry.
A pair of hands became visible, and pulled back the hood, revealing black curls and green eyes.
He realized with shock that while the girl in front of him had jet black hair, and forest green eyes, she was very much the girl he'd known as Hermione Granger.
"Hello, Draco", she said smoothly, a sultry smirk turning her lips upward.
"G-granger?" He asked, shocked.
She chuckled, and nodded.
"Is it really so shocking? I guess I'm a better actress than I had thought," she teased.
She let the rest of the invisibility cloak, and he realized that she was wearing a typical Death Eater's cloak, the mask hanging around her neck.
"But you- you're the fucking Princess of Gryffindor! How-"
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm only in Gryffindor because I asked to be, if I could've been in Slytherin, I would've, believe me. I've had more intelligent conversations with Hufflepuffs than those damned Gryffindorks," she said cruelly, green eyes sparkling dangerously.
"But how-"
"What do you mean, how? I'm a spy, Malfoy. Lying is my job. I /pretended/ to be a sweet little Muggleborn Gryffindor so that Dumbledore wouldn't be suspicious when I got close to Potter. Is it that hard to understand? I thought you were supposed to be /smart/," she said sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips.
He snarled at the insult, but stopped immediately when Voldemort cleared his throat impatiently.
"Now now children, lets not fight. You'll have an eternity to argue later," he said smoothly, his red eyes daring them to continue their quarrel.
"My apologies, my Lord," Draco said, at the same time that "Hermia" said
"I'm sorry, Father."
Draco gaped at her for a solid minute, before she broke into giggles, and he turned away frowning.
"Silly boy, can't you see the family resemblance?" she teased, smiling playfully.
'No, not at all," Draco thought, considering the girl's unruly hair and dark eyes to his Master's snakelike appearance and crimson eyes.
Just as he decided against voicing this, the girl turned to him, smirking devilishly as her own eyes glowed red for a split second, before returning to normal.
Riddle himself smirked, rolling his eyes at her antics.
"Enough, Hermia," he said firmly, but not quite cruelly, before turning his attention back on Draco, who was turning a rather startling shade of purple.
"Yes Draco, Hermia is in fact my biological daughter. She has acted as my agent in the Order since your first year at Hogwarts, and is very skilled at it," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly when Hermia brightened at his praise.
"Draco, I understand that you have gained mastery of wandless spells, and your own intelligence and skills are a valuable asset to our cause."
Hermia stuck out her tongue at him, rolling her eyes.
Riddle's eyes narrowed, and Hermia put on a falsely apologetic face.
"As I was /saying/," he continued,
"I've decided for these reasons that the two of you will continue Hermia's mission...together," he announced, looking amused at Hermia's sour expression.
Draco barely caught himself from protesting, before deciding that, oddly nice or not, he did /not/ wish to test the Dark Lord's patience.
He chuckled.
"Speak Draco, I know you have something to say about this," he allowed.
"My Lord, what do you need me for?
You already said that Hermia was perfectly capable for this task," he reasoned.
The reptilian man nodded, his expression mildly amused.
"Yes, I did say that, and I mean it. The girl has a natural talent for deception. But I still want the two of your to work cooperatively. Your objectives will be met that much faster working together than seperately, and I want you both to get used to working together; this won't be the last time I need the both of you," he explained, abeit somewhat vaguely.
"Yes, my Lord," he aquiesced, bowing shallowly.
The Dark Lord chuckled.
"Hermia, you would do well to learn from the Young Mister Malfoy, /he/ at least, has some concept of manners," he said, before rising from his throne.
"Hermia, you can finish briefing him on your assignment in your chambers. The both of you will be sent back to Hogwarts in the morning," he said, effectively dismissing them.
"Goodnight Father," Hermia said, before turning on her heel and exiting, not even bothering to see if Draco was following.
He jogged after, and fell into step beside her, watching her curiously, but saying nothing.
They walked through endless hallways, and up several staircases, farther into the Riddle house than Draco had ever been before, not that he'd ever been keen on exploring the big house.
Finally they reached a dark and shadowy corridor, largely empty except for two suits of armor standing at the wall, spears crossed in the space between them.
Hermia walked right up to them and whispered something he couldn't make out to one.
Immediately they stood attention, moving the weapons out of the way, so that she could touch the wall behind them.
"Aurelie," she said gently, stepping backwards.
The wall vanished, and she stepped through, but the moment he attempted to follow her, the wall reappeared, and the suits of armor moved back into place, pointing their weapons towards him menacingly.
He made a shocked, strangled noise at the back of his throat and jumped back, alarmed.
"Uh Granger?!" He called, watching the armor warily.
"Let him in you morons!" Her voice called, muffled, from behind the wall.
Almost reluctantly, the armor moved out of the way, and the wall reopened, revealing an exasperated Hermia behind, her hands on her hips.
"What in Merlin's name-?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Father "forgot" to remove the wards. I'm not supposed to have boys in my rooms, or anyone really. How else do you think I've managed to be a secret for so long? Definitely not by hosting Death Eater slumber parties, that's for sure," she said dryly, sinking onto a black leather couch in what must've been the sitting room outside her bedroom.
"Alright, what's going on?"Draco demanded.
"Whatever do you mean, Master Malfoy?" she said mockingly, examining her fingernails as she spoke as if the entire conversation bored her.
He frowned darkly.
"You know exactly what I mean Grang-"
"Uh uh uh," she scolded.
"My name is Hermia /Riddle/, Malfoy. Get used to it."
He threw up his hands in frustration.
"That is exactly what I mean! How the bloody hell do you expect me to respond to learning that Mudblood Granger is in fact a perfectly respectable, Pureblooded witch, and not only that, but she's the Dark Lord's daughter? I'd be shipped off to Mungo's if I told someone that!"
She laughed lightly.
"Then I suppose that's a good thing, since my existence is still very much secret. It's a testament to his faith in you- for what I'll never know- that he trusted you with this secret. Telling anyone would mean the Death of me, you, and anyone you happen to care about, just so you're aware," she said simply, as if discussing the weather.
How lovely.
"Anyways, shocking as this must be to you, you'll have to get over it. Father wants you to help me sabotage the Order."
She stood and went into her bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind her. From where he stood he could see her walking past white furniture and furnishings done in cool colors, blues and greens painted on the walls and purples in the wall hangings and bed. She threw her cloak on the bed, and grabbed something just out of his line of sight, before returning to the couch, inviting him to sit next to her.
He noticed that underneath the cloak she was wearing a yellow strapless sundress, nicer than anything he had seen her in except for maybe her Yule Ball dress. It looked amazing on her, but also bared her shoulders and back, exposing a winding, dark tattoo of a snake slithering its way from her left arm, across her shoulder blades, and down her right.
She caught his gaze and smirked.
"Do you like it? Father and I agreed that the traditional Dark Mark was too mundane. Besides, I may be the Dark Lady someday, and it'd undermine my authority to be marked the same as the underlings," she explained.
He thought of his own dark mark with some embarrassment, pulling down his sleeve unconsciously.
This didn't escape her notice though, and she made a mental note to see about getting him a mark like hers at a later date.
"Enough of that, we have preparations
to make," she interrupted herself, pulling out a small book that she'd apparently retrieved from her bedroom.
Murmuring a charm softly, his name engraved itself on the cover, glowing brightly for a moment, before going out.
She handed it to him.
"We'll communicate using this. I have a similar one. Just write a journal entry, and it'll appear in mine. Don't use names or recognizable locations, it'll hold up to a classmate, or the average adult wizard, but Dumbledore, he'll be able to retrieve the messages easily. Still, be careful not to let anyone know you have it, and especially not who you're writing to. Understood?"
He nodded, brow furrowed, and tucked the journal into his cloak.
It seemed that "Hermia" could be serious about her job, if nothing else.
"Perfect. Now, we're both Prefects this year, so that will excuse me for "fraternizing with the enemy". You need to work on diffusing this animosity Harry has for you. He's got to at least consider you not to be a threat, even if he doesn't like you," she mused, her dark eyes narrowed in concentration.
He scoffed.
"How do you expect me to manage that?"
She glared up at him.
"I don't care how you manage it, just do it," she ordered, before handing him a key.
"It's just a duplicate, but it should get you inside..."
"Inside what?"
"Slytherin's personal quarters of course. It houses a library, an unmonitored fireplace, and it sits directly above the Chamber of Secrets. You'll meet me there every week for a call with father.
He'll want updates on our progress."
"What exactly does the Dark Lord want?"
She grinned.
"Right now, all you need to worry about is getting on Chosen One Potter's good side. Think you can do that?" She teased.
He glared.
"Of course I can!"
"Good, because it's time we returned," she said, snapping her fingers and vanishing from his sight.
"What the bloody-" he managed, before a sensation similar to apparition, but kind of... softer, he supposed. He felt less inclined to part with the contents of his stomach.
And then he was in his dorm, in his bed, wondering if any of that had happened at all.
He rubbed his eyes. What sort of convoluted dream was that?
But then he felt it.
The book was in his cloak, and it was quickly heating up enough to burn him through his shirt.
He yanked it out, eyes wide with surprise as he realized it had certainly not been a dream, and opened to the first page.
Sweet Dreams Malfoy
~Hermia
He blinked, and reread the sentence, once, twice, three times.
Oh. Merlin.