- Chapter 1 -

The Naming

"How do you know who I am?" The Dark Lord regretted his question as soon as it had left his mouth. Of all of the things to ask, he had chosen that? And it wasn't as if the girl would even answer him. He twisted his face into a dark scowl, as she smiled even more widely.

"Well, Voldemort, you are very recognizable these days. Also, I don't know if you know this, but there are currently only two Parselmouths alive. You, and Harry Potter." Her voice was soft, yet held an eagerness. "Only one of the pair of you could have gotten through my wards."

"What do you want with me and Potter?" The Dark Lord spat, slightly unnerved by this lithe creature. She blinked up at him with wide, eyes before answering him.

"Potter is simple. I'm going to kill him." Her voice was calm, and unwavering. This was no silly child decided on revenge.

"There is a prophecy, only I-" He began, but was cut off by her low chuckle.

"I know the prophecy." She said shortly. "But have you not yet guessed what I am?" The rocking chair creaked as she stood. The Dark Lord noticed dispassionately that she stood a full head shorter than he. She smiled once more, showing sharp fangs.

"Vampire?" He asked with a sudden spurt of inspiration. The girl smiled, and nodded. "But the wards would mean… you used to be a witch?" Her smile widened.

"I bet you even knew me," she taunted. "back when I was alive. Not that we ever met - I'm not sure I'd have survived. Think about it, you know my name, I'm sure you do."

It was a rare sight indeed to see the Dark Lord stuck for words. His mind quickly attempted to put together the clues. After around a minute of silence, the chit had the temerity to laugh. The Dark Lord raised his wand to point at her, but she merely laughed once more. He growled and stepped forward, only to find that the girl had moved from the chair. Before he had a chance to look for her, he felt a weight alight on his back, and felt teeth at his throat.

"You will notpoint your wand at me again, Voldemort," he could feel her lips moving across his neck as she spoke, lowly and slow so he had to strain to hear her. In a blink of the eye she was back on the rocking chair, perfectly composed, but looking pointedly at his wand. Hastily, it was lowered. "That's better. Now, I suppose I'd better tell you my name, hadn't I? I am - was - known by the name of Hermione Jean Granger."

"You're a Mudblood!" he spat out harshly, without thinking.

"And you're a half-blood. It's a moot point at any rate - I am Vampire now, and I can assure you that I have more Pureblood in me than you have in you." Her smile suddenly seemed slightly more dangerous, and the Dark Lord suddenly wished that he had paid more attention in Defence Against the Dark Arts back at Hogwarts when they had studied creatures.

"You're Potter's best friend!" he spat next, prompting a snort from the girl. "Aren't you?"

"I was Harry'sbest friend," she corrected. "But then I got turned."

"And he hated you for that?" He smirked widely. "Now which side is prejudiced?"

"No, he didn't hate me for being like this." Hermione said calmly. "He hates me because I killed his best friend."

"The other one? Weasley?" She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath before nodding.

"Won't you sit with me, Voldemort?" she asked when her eyes were open once more. "Let me tell you the story… and my proposal to you…" Her eyelids batted at him seductively, and she gestured towards the bed. The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at her slightly.

"And how am I supposed to trust that this isn't a trap?" He asked slowly.

"I'll swear a wand oath with you," she lifted her skirt, to reveal her wand strapped to her upper thigh. She pulled it out, and raised it, eyes imploring him. With a sigh, he put the tip of his wand to hers. "I, Hermione Jean Granger swear on my wand that I will do all that is within my power that you, Lord Voldemort, may leave this house unharmed and of your own volition. Is this acceptable to you?"

"These terms are acceptable," Lord Voldemort said, pulling his wand away. "Do you mind if I clear the dust that I may take a seat?" The girl looked around her as if only just noticing the layer of dust.

"Let me, Voldemort," she said, waving her wand in one fluid motion around the room. Instantly all of the dust vanished, and the surfaces were spotlessly clean. "I suppose you'll have to sit on the bed… there's not really space for another chair in here." Riddle nodded, and sat himself gingerly on the edge of the single bed, surprised to find the sheets also completely dust free.

"You were going to tell me your story?" he inquired politely. Hermione nodded, and smiled a little.

"It started… oh… what's the date?" She frowned, her head tilting to one side, and her bottom lip caught in between her front teeth.

"The thirtieth of October, nineteen-ninety-seven," Voldemort replied promptly.

"Then I suppose it started four months ago, round about when Dumbledore died. That's when Harry told Ron and I about the task that the Headmaster had left for him - to find your Horcruxes and to destroy them." She looked up at Voldemort, and shook her head as he opened his mouth to question her. "After the story, Voldemort," she admonished. "For the summer, we were all taken to the Order Headquarters, and they tried to separate the three of us, they thought that we would do something stupid, which, of course, we did. Harry and Ron worked on defensive spells and battle strategies, whilst I did the research on Horcruxes.

"I worked out, much as you had, I assume, that Albania was where the knowledge was kept after about six weeks. So, the three of us escaped the Order, and we went to Albania. We were staying in a tent, all of the time, so we kept having to go out to get firewood, and things. On the twenty-ninth of August, we had camped at a rocky outcrop, of sorts. I went out to collect some firewood, maybe find a source of water…" Hermione trailed off, looking speculatively into the distance.

"But something found you?" Voldemort suggested once the silence had trailed over a few minutes. Hermione nodded.

"Yes, something found me. I woke up a while later, and all I could think was that I was thirsty. And I could smell them - Harry and Ron. They hadn't even gone to look for me, even though I'd been gone more than three hours. They'd just waited. Ron was closest to the entrance of the tent, so it was Ron that I went for. I drained him dry, while Harry shot every spell he could think of at my back. Something must have worked, because the next thing I remember, I woke up back at Headquarters, tied to a chair in the kitchen.

"The entire Order was there, debating what to do with me. You should have seen it; it was like a cattle farm. I'd wager that your meetings aren't nearly so puerile. Molly Weasley wanted to put me to death for killing her son, Minerva McGonagall wanted to keep me locked away working on things for the Order, Mad-Eye led the largest viewpoint. To throw me out of the Order, and to let me fend for myself. Isn't it funny? The amount of people there who I had known since I was a child, and they just left me to rot. They thought that I wouldn't be able to tap into any of my powers, being a newborn. Ha! What fools." She snorted derisively, and the Dark Lord leant forwards, his head tilted to one side.

"You worked out how to use your powers on your own?" He asked, almost disbelievingly. She nodded absently. "But… but that would mean you are formidable."

"I was formidable as a human. They called me the smartest witch of my generation. But now…" Her eyes flicked to his with derision. "Now, I am unstoppable. And that's what I'm offering you, Voldemort. A chance to be formidable, unstoppable. I want you to be mine." She stared up at him, a slight pout on her lips.

"To… to be yours?" He asked slowly. "What do you mean by that?"

"You could be mine, you could be my Tom. Immortal, near invincible in your old body. As my mate, we would be linked, near one. I could fulfil the Prophecy in regards to Potter with you, and we could rule everything. Just imagine us, Tom. We would be beautiful together, you and I. We willbe beautiful together, if you would just let us." The Dark Lord leant back on the bed, his forehead wrinkled in a frown.

"You could turn me back?" He asked wistfully. "Make me like I was? I used to be handsome, you know. I was considered quite the catch at Hogwarts. And I'd gain powers too, right? But I could never be as powerful as you?"

"No, you would not be as powerful as me, but you would still be more powerful than you are now. I saw pictures of you, and Pensieve memories too, before… If you hadn't been so pretty, I wouldn't have come to you. I don't like ugly people." Hermione drew in a deep breath through her nose, and licked her lips. "I can hear your blood, rushing through your veins. It calls to me. Let me make you mine, please?"

Voldemort drew in a sharp, rasping breath at her tone. As soon as she had mentioned blood her entire demeanour had changed. Instead of the demure little girl she had looked, her eyes had darkened with what was either hunger, or arousal, and her voice had been lower, huskier. And damnit, he liked it. Her eyes locked with his own… Instead of the deep pools of amber that they had been, her eyeballs were now completely black. She was beautiful.

"I…" Voldemort stammered. "I… Yes! I am yours!"