'Warning: serious risks involve–'

'What risks!' nothing more could be read past that much to her dismay. The inability to read it drove the know-it-all bonkers. 'Brilliant..'

Closing the book hesitantly, she plopped it down atop the desk in aggravation. The thump of the massive book on the table top echoed throughout the library, almost taunting her. Her own overwhelming need for knowledge stinging her, begging for approval to which she refused to offer.

Sighing with a hiss, "Ruddy book." she reached for its tethered surface, and in that short second, her fingertips just barely grazing the surface, a penetrating force overcame her, dominating her entire body. A restrictive feeling, as if the book would not allow her to touch it again after being rejected.

Frozen in place, barely able to breathe even, a drop of perspiration formed from her brow and her pupils dilated. Blood ran as cold as ice, adding to the restriction that had taken over her body, like a cold, vice grip that may break her. Struggling with the greatest effort, she attempted to sever contact with the book's surface. She may have appeared to have been petrified, however, she could, only slightly, twitch every now and again, until finally she freed her fingertips from their locked position.

Catching her breath, she brought a hand to her chest, gripping her white, collared shirt just over her racing heart.

'It's charmed? Why?' The only theory she could manage, and the most likely reason being that someone didn't want anyone else reading it. So it would then be placed in the restricted section, would it not? How odd. Too was it odd that she was able to touch it before. Had it let her touch it? Was there a crack in the charm? If the charm was as old as the book it would make perfect sense that their would be. Such dark magic she had felt though. On the brink of painful. Whoever had charmed that book was dead serious on letting no one else get their hands on it. She could only imagine what the charm might had done to anyone before its, as well as its charm's, deterioration. Even after its aging, its power was still so unbelievably overwhelming. Certainly couldn't have been a teacher who had charmed it, therefor, it must have been a student. Still, what was so important about a book full of dark magic? Was it because it was full of dark magic? Very thoughtful of someone – in a way – if it were charmed for the protection of others, have you, otherwise...

Gathering her composure, she wondered if it was even worth it for another attempt at handling that.. that thing.

Suddenly, 'Go on' had she heard something? Someone? Was she not alone? 'I dare you'

'What?' she thought, 'I dare you?'

"Hello?" she called out in a trembling voice, only to receive silence.

Breathing quickened as her blood ran cold again, this time from fear alone and she bolted for the exit.

But just as she did, 'No, don't leave, dear' and she came to a slow halt.

'First it practically threatens me, then it calls me dear?'

'I wasn't threatening you.'

Crossing her arms over her chest, "Oh? 'I dare you' You don't call that a threat?"

'I only meant that you should try again!' it proclaimed in a cheerful manner.

"Ha! So you can petrify me again? No thank you." with that she turned to leave, but again the book managed to prolong this.

'Please?' almost pitifully, 'I won't hurt you again.'

Its voice nothing short of a whisper, it pleaded for her to try again, try again. Hermione didn't trust it. Not after its threat. It was undoubtedly lying – threaten her then try to lure her in. Nonsense.

"No thank you." she said for the final time, exiting the library without a second's notice as to avoid anymore chatter with this.. book.

A conversation with a book. Well that was positively unheard of. Or was it? Five years ago something similar did happen now that she thought of it. A diary belonging to none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle. Not only did the diary write back, but it managed to take Harry into another time. So having a conversation with a book wasn't entirely remarkable. Not in the wizarding world anyhow. It's dark tenancy though.. It's eerie whispers still resounding in her mind. They were almost alluring, as if the book was putting her under some kind of spell, aside from the nasty body-binding one she'd been forced to adhere to. It was enough to put her nightly library visits to a grinding halt – at least for a little while. Or at least as long as she could bare. The thought of being caught alone with that book again terrified her.

'Morsmodre. Yes. That's it.'

Hazel hues searched their surroundings in a bewildered haze of a deep sleep and night of endless, cryptic dreams. A dark, painful mark on his arm, a skull, entangled with the slithering body of a serpent – the same image he'd seen in the sky. What did it all mean? Or wasn't it obvious enough?

'Of course..'

That was it. That's what he was looking for – precisely. A vision more than a dream, an answer more than a query. It was a symbolization of himself. Of what he wanted for his future and the future of the wizarding world. A dark mark. His Dark Mark. It would be his very own – come to him in a dream – just his and it would inherit undeniable recognition when from the people who will come to either fear it, or admire it; his people. Those who would share his beliefs and join him without the slightest doubt or disloyalty.

'I-am-Lord-Voldemort.'

At this last gather, he shut his eyes, and pursued sleep once more.

*/Chapters will grow longer, dears. Just be patient. I will try to get a chapter in a day, for now. Thank you for reading and be sure to review and share your thoughts.