Disclaimer: you know the drill. Don't own and getting no money.

Author's note: Thank you for all your reviews; TwilightGirl100196, Abbelmus, Siddyi, Rosilini, Hatami, Amber530, CullenCovenGirl88, Ravenx7, StarzAngelus, Anony, Aoi Mitsukai, Ilaaris, Summer Leah, SriHellgirl25, GoldenTresses91, Alea Seikou, Switchitt, Claerwin, CYLi, Ali-lue, Ilovenat1995, SpeedDemon315, Blindfaithoperadiva, Ankoku Dezaia, Medusaasaphoenix, Acceptedmisconceptions, RedPhoenix23, and Artemis Moon87.

Anony; I am afraid the chronological order didn't work the way I hoped it would. I had written a couple of chapters that way and noticed this would become a too huge a story if I continued it like this, and in the end, I would still be stuck with the fact that this story revolves around time-travels. So, I decided to look at other ways to help readers keep track of the different time-lines. I'll probably kick a couple of sup-plots and make it more clear there is time-tampering going on from the beginning of the story. Hope it won't turn you off again. (If it's Hermione being with Krum, I'd advise to stick along – that won't take long).

Shameless plugging of "The Gold Puppet", a Tomione written by Serpent-In-Red and myself under the name "The Silver Puppet Masters" (don't ask, grins).

Masters of manipulation part 2

Chapter two

Time. Ever present and unavoidable. They say it flies when you're having fun. Or it freezes in that one moment you dreamt off. But Time moves as it wishes, on its accord. Set in correct intervals, second after second. All similar, all identical, precise and systematic. You can literally clock time. Seconds become minutes; minutes turn into hours, hours to days, weeks, years, decades, centuries, millennia. Ruthless and unrelenting in all its chronological order, linear, moving along in that one direction, forward.

Well, for most of us, anyway.

With a thundering noise, the building of St. Mungo's fell down. Those trapped behind the hospital's wards would have no means of escape. The death toll would be immense.

'Morsmordre!' cast a hooded fellow standing in the middle of the street, while muggle cars rushed past him, never hitting him once to her sincere disappointment.

Having the best or rather worst view of the scene before her, Hermione stood on the sidewalk at the opposite end of what used to be St. Mungo's; a firm arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her against his tall frame, his wand in his hand, making sure she'd not intervene. She'd been inside, just as he was, only mere moments ago. Her husband still was. Tom Riddle had seen no reason to spare his life, though.

Fortunately, she hadn't brought Rose to the fundraiser, as the others had wanted her to. Hermione was positive she would have lost it altogether if she'd have to watch her daughter die. Her mind worked overtime on how to keep Rose and her friends safe, preferably away from him. Her house was well-warded, but Viktor's sister, Angela – who was babysitting Rose, James, Albus and Lily – would not be able to keep him out indefinitely.

Merlin, what about Harry and Ginny's children? How was she going to tell them their parents and the rest of their family were dead? Tom had just orphaned them, and they were now her responsibility, seeing as she was their Godmother. She had to protect them, too. Somehow, she had to. She'd promised Harry.

An idea formed in her mind when Tom's hand caressed the side of her face. She would use their bond to her advantage, just as he had when he had incapacitated her in order to move her from the premises – two could play this game. It wasn't over, yet.

She had tensed when he first touched her, but now, she made herself relax against his body – surrendering in order to fight another day. She had to see his organisation from within before she could sabotage it.

His mark in the sky lit up the ruins, enhancing the terror it would fill in people's hearts when its picture would be printed in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. Tom Riddle had finally decided to show his true colours to the world.

'Mummy?'

Oh Godric, no, she thought desperately upon hearing Rose's frightened voice. I don't want her to see this. Viktor is underneath there.

She tensed again and felt Tom's arm tighten around her waist warningly.

'Mummy, mummy, there are monsters in my room!'

That didn't make sense.

Her body shook. Why was Tom shaking her? She wasn't struggling or otherwise opposing him, at the moment.

'Mummy, wake up,' demanded Rose, yanking at her arm.

Was she asleep? It didn't feel like it. Her eyes were open, weren't they? She saw the street. A silver flash blinded her eyes and everything turned dark.

'Lumos,' Hermione muttered, disoriented.

She yawned as she opened her eyes, stretching her still not quite awake and severely perspiring body. Merlin, that was one hell of a nightmare – she couldn't shake the distress immediately. Two tiny hands shook her arm again, causing her to firmly arrive in the here and now. Her daughter needed her – she didn't have time to dwell on dreams. She needed to get a grip on reality, now.

'Underneath my bed, mummy. You need to kill the monsters,' Rose whispered, and she bossily pointed to the door.

'What is going on?' Viktor mumbled from his side of the bed sleepily.

'Nothing dear, Rose probably had a nightmare.'

'Did not,' Rose said indignantly. 'The monsters have come to kill me.'

'And they're hiding underneath your bed at the moment?' Hermione inquired calmly. She sat up, yawning again as she threw her legs over the edge of the bed.

'Yes!'

'Then, why haven't they tried to kill you when you walked over here?' she asked Rose reasonably.

Rose bit her lip and frowned. The little seven-year-old thought hard. 'Because I–I got out of bed on the right side. They aren't allowed to attack people who leave the bed on the right side,' she triumphantly stated.

Hermione was able to stifle her laughter about the sheer ingenuity of the explanation and looked at her side of the bed (the left side) with fake concern. 'Am I not going to be in trouble now?' she asked Rose, going along with the story.

Viktor jumped out off their bed on his side. 'I'll better go, then,' and he winked to Hermione.

'No! I need mummy! Monsters aren't frightened of you. They are only scared of mummy!' Rose squeaked, panicking.

'How very true,' Viktor said grinning.

He was not at all insulted by his daughter's refusal to let him help, because he agreed firmly with Rose. Despite her petite size, Hermione could be incredibly intimidating if she made an effort – much more than him. He'd seen her in action more than once and he pitied the fools who tried to pull one over on her. So, he crawled back underneath the warm covers of the bed with an apologetic smile to his wife, since this meant she definitely had to be the one to get up.

Hermione picked up her wand, which lay on her nightstand. 'So, underneath the bed?'

Rose nodded certain and wobbled out after her mother.

'Try to kill them quietly,' Viktor said teasingly, 'the neighbours are still complaining about the noise we made the other night.'

Hermione looked over her shoulder and shook her head at her husband, who enjoyed himself a lot.

'You want a little baby brother or sister, right Rose?' Viktor added cheerfully.

'No,' Rose said bluntly.

Hermione snorted. 'Too bad, darling, she isn't helping you out tonight.'

Viktor sighed. 'I guess I could go back to sleep,' he grudgingly said.

'You're pouting like a five-year-old, hon,' Hermione replied, while she exited the bedroom with Rose right behind her.

'I never pout,' Rose said resentfully.

Hermione smiled and ruffled her hand through her daughter's bushy brown curls. 'I know. I wasn't talking about you. Pouting is something men do,' Hermione informed her.

'Heard that!' Viktor called out in mock protest.

'See,' said Hermione to Rose, and she opened the door to her daughter's bedroom nonchalantly. 'Stupify!' Her wand cast towards the bed. 'Now, let's see who is hiding underneath your bed, shall we?'

Rose nodded and walked in after Hermione, holding on to her mother's pyjamas for protection. Hermione was about to bend over to check underneath when she heard some cast, 'Muffliato!'

Rose screamed and got pulled away from her, while someone else grabbed a hold of Hermione's waist and wrist, the latter to prevent her from pointing her wand at anyone. Another dark figure approached her on her right. She rolled her wand between her fingers to gain the right angle and it flashed – the person crumbled up on the floor. A knife flew toward her, and with catlike reflexes, she caught it in midair with her left hand.

'Thanks,' she mock-thanked the person foolish enough to hand her an additional weapon.

She twirled the knife around in her hand, and quickly stepped back, pushing her body into her attacker. As she stabbed the knife into him, she bent over and tossed the fellow across the room, ripping open his body in the process, because she had not let go off the heft of the large blade. He crashed straight into Rose's nightstand, bleeding severely. She felt a presence approach her on the left and tossed the knife in his direction before he could reach her. She saw the shadow fall, as she swirled around with her wand raised to curse the one, who had snatched Rose away from her. She looked straight into a very familiar face.

'Vishna, you idiot, I could have killed you all,' Hermione hissed, and she lowered her wand. 'Don't you know how to knock on people's doors?'

The old vampire smiled broadly, exposing his fangs in the process. His scruffy, short, dark-brown hair stood up straight as usual, giving off the distinct impression of an aggravated hedgehog, while his grey eyes twinkled in amusement. His red-and-black traditional vampire cloak hung gracefully around his shoulders, while a not so traditional wand was in one hand and the other held onto Rose. He'd kept her sheltered behind him to prevent accidental harm being inflicted upon the little girl during the fighting.

'I knew you could do it, Rosie,' the vampire said calmly. He held up his pale hand towards Rose and she gave him a high-five.

'I won, I won,' Rose said triumphantly, dancing around, 'mummy beat them all, as I said.'

'Yes, I believe you are correct,' Vishna stated, glancing over his fallen comrades with a tsk, before watching Hermione proudly. 'It seems your mother has not given up on her training. So, I now owe you a vampire debt, Rose.'

'Cool,' Rose said, too young to understand the true meaning of such a thing.

Hermione sighed and looked at the mess. The vampire she cursed was still unconscious on the floor. The one she tossed the knife at was already getting up again, and despite the knife that was stuck in his chest, he appeared in good enough shape. The one she dumped over her shoulder was still bleeding heavily from the large wound in his belly. But Hermione knew help would not be appreciated, so she did nothing.

'You did use magic though,' Vishna reprimanded.

'My daughter is here. I'll use whatever I've got to defend us both,' Hermione snapped. 'Besides, you're being an awful big hypocrite with that stick in your hand.'

Vishna smirked and caressed his wand affectionately. 'Well, I wasn't planning on using it against another vampire. That simply is not done.'

Hermione snorted. 'Like I said, hypocritical all way.'

'Nothing human is strange to us, Hermione. You should have learnt that a long time ago.'

'What are you doing here, Vishna? And why did you sneak into my house when I have a perfectly fine functioning doorbell outside?'

'Uncle Vishna did not want daddy knowing they were here,' Rose answered.

Hermione glared at the vampire, because that didn't merit an attack on her person; but her curiosity was peeked nevertheless.

'We need to talk,' Vishna said softly, 'privately.'

'Then, clean up this mess of yours and sent these incompetent fools away,' Hermione ordered with a dismissive wave towards the injured vampires.

Vishna smiled and gave her a courteous nod. 'You remember our ways, good.'

Hermione turned in the doorway. 'If I followed your customs to the letter, I would have slain every single one of you for violating my home.'

'Well, I never said there was no room for improvement,' Vishna said dryly.

'Rose, to bed,' Hermione said.

'But mummy, I want to stay with uncle Vishna,' Rose objected.

'Listen to your mother, Rose,' Vishna said. 'It is the vampire way to respect one's elders.'

Rose gave them a pouting look.

'And I will tell you a vampire tale later on if you go to sleep now,' Vishna added.

'Yay!' Rose cheered, and she immediately jumped into bed. 'Will it be bloody?' she asked hopefully, and she gave Vishna a pleading look.

'It is a vampire tale,' Vishna replied indignantly.

Apparently, it was enough of an affirmative answer to Rose since she pulled the covers over her head and called out that she was now sleeping. The vampire glanced at Hermione, who had a mocking smile on her face.

'You big softy,' she whispered. 'I'll go and tell Viktor – er – something.' And she left the room, pretending to give Viktor some excuse.

By the time she returned, Rose's room was back in pristine condition; the other vampires had left, and Rose lay underneath her blankets being tucked in by Vishna. 'I will be back in the morning to tell you all about the Great Adventures of the Vampire Princess. So, the sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you will hear it. Alright?'

Rose nodded, excited, and pressed her eyelids together, determined to fall asleep quickly. Hermione kissed her daughter goodnight and walked outside with Vishna. They strolled through the gardens for a while in silence. The moon crawled out from behind a singular, black cloud, lightening up the deserted area around them. The Krum Mansion was located in a dense forest in Bulgaria with a large, mainly private terrain around it. Hermione looked up at the starry sky. They twinkled brightly upon them, as she eventually sat down on one of the stone benches with Vishna.

'The Great Adventures of the Vampire Princess,' said Hermione to break the silence. 'Since when do vampires have princesses?'

'Well, I tried to think of something a young girl can relate to,' Vishna responded.

'How thoughtful of you. Now, what is this big emergency that makes you think you can just waltz back into my life like nothing happened.'

'It was an accident!'

'You bit me.'

'I apologised; what more do you want? Really, the Haemo-Scotch fell exceptionally bad that night,' muttered Vishna.

'If one can't hold one's liquor, one should not be drinking at all.'

'I am a vampire. We party.'

Hermione sighed and shook her head. She knew all about vampires and their desire to party twenty-four/seven. She had lived among them at Krakatau for quite some time after all. And when vampires said party, they meant Haemo-Scotch, Haemo-Scotch, and … did she mention Haemo-Scotch already?

'I suppose there is no point in repeating that debate. Why have you come?' Hermione asked matter-of-factly.

'The others are getting restless, Hermione. They want answers.'

'I have none to give.'

'Then, I recommend making up something good, because that answer will simply not do.'

'Is that a threat, Vishna? Because you should know I do not respond well to those,' Hermione hissed.

'No, it is a friendly warning. And frankly, I am kind of curious myself. How do you expect to achieve our goals when you are hiding out here in Bulgaria?'

'I am not hiding. I have my reasons for staying here at the moment. For crying out loud Vishna, your people have waited for centuries. Surely, a few more years won't matter.'

'Among the many good trades the Vampire Community possesses I am afraid to mention patience is not considered one of our virtues. Some are already beginning to suggest an alternative route to obtain our objectives.'

Hermione sighed. 'Can't you explain to those impatient, no doubt, murdering idiots that that approach will destroy them? I can't perform miracles, Vishna. Timing is of the essence here.'

'Then explain it to me, Hermione, because honestly, I do not see how you living here in Bulgaria helps our cause. This is not the country you can become Minister of Magic in.'

'This, however, is Viktor's country,' said Hermione. 'It is why I am currently living here.'

'Viktor Krum, pfftt… Mind explaining that mistake to me as well,' Vishna said, snorting disparagingly.

'He is the father of my child.'

'Please, I love Rose; but don't bring that visual in my head, Granger. Fortunately, the girl takes after you and not the Quidditch Idiot. If you ask me, he has taken one Bludger to the head too many.'

Hermione shook her head. 'You really don't see the advantage I gain by having Viktor Krum at my side?'

'No, I fail to see how someone who can't add two and two together, yet continues to insist upon showing everyone his ignorance by flooding the world with faulty Arithmancy Theses, can be an advantage to anyone or anything.'

'You need the Dracul Order to switch their vote in the Vampire Council. Otherwise we're both screwed anyway. Viktor is from this part of Europe-'

'Oh please, Vlad and Elizabeth will eat him for breakfast. They don't care what the likes of him have to say, even if he was born in Transylvania, which he is not.'

'I wasn't talking about him swaying them. I will do that myself. I need Viktor to convince the Wizarding Community. The Dracul Order has caused many casualties in this part of Europe and I am from England, as you so unnecessarily reminded me a few moments ago. I cannot go around telling the people of Transylvania and its surrounding countries that a peace treaty with the Dracul Order is something they need to sign. It would be highly inappropriate, ineffective, and no doubt, unsuccessful for me to do so; but they will listen to him. The Krums are a well-known and respected political family throughout these parts of Europe. They are famous for their continued resistance towards vampires and dark wizards. They fought Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort in the past.'

'So did the Weasleys and they have family living in Transylvania instead of a neighbouring country,' Vishna interrupted. 'Surely, that Ronald fellow would have been a far more suitable and interesting partner for you. I mean I understand, considering you're asking us to help you break that blood bond, that Riddle is out of the question. Besides, he would not be a politically sound option. I can just imagine the field day the press would have once they figure out his real identity. But I sincerely doubt this idiot you've married can convince a starving man to eat a loaf of bread.'

'Well, that is where you are wrong. It's all politics, Vishna, politics. Have you ever seen Viktor in action with a group of strangers? People simply adore him – the best Seeker ever. He's their hero. They don't care if he is speaking nonsense. I sometimes wonder if they even hear it. Ronald is way too blunt to work a crowd. He misses a certain subtlety.'

'Good for him,' Vishna said approvingly.

'Yes, but not good for your bloody cause or for my chances of getting elected in the first place,' Hermione responded, annoyed.

Vishna stared at her.

'What?' Hermione snapped.

'You've changed,' he replied. 'The girl I met so many years ago would not have settled for less merely to obtain an objective.'

'I did not settle for Viktor. He is a kind and loving man, who does not try to possess me. I care for him greatly.'

'You care for him,' Vishna responded with a clear undertone in his voice.

'Yes,' Hermione said, irritated. 'You don't believe that?'

'Oh, I believe that. It's just … care is not the first word I think a woman should use when she is speaking of her husband and the father of her child. You've become quite the manipulator, haven't you? I can't help but wonder how much of those skills you are using on me right now.'

'If I recall correctly, it is due to your demands I have to use those skills at the moment,' Hermione rebutted. 'And I will expect you to keep your end of the bargain as well.'

'We vampires take great pride in honouring our word. I cannot say the same about wizards and witches.'

'Pfftt…,' Hermione spat. 'Vampire pride and honour. Do not mistake me for a fool, Vishna. I know the excuses you've used to break your word in the past.'

The vampire blinked, but did not respond to Hermione's accusation.

'I have the information, the skill, and the item you require to break the blood bond between you and Tom Riddle. I believe you know you won't find anyone else capable of helping you with that or you would not have turned to me. I've asked for one favour in return and I have given you loads of time to achieve it already. However, I can't wait forever, Hermione. It's like I said before, we vampires are not known for our patience. If you do not make a move soon, one I find is directed towards obtaining our objectives, I will have no other choice but to switch my vote to support Prince Vlad's option. And I believe you understand what that will mean to the Wizarding Community you hold so dear.'

'Now, who is manipulating who?' Hermione softly stated.

'I say we are bargaining over the timetable. You want to be free from Voldemort's influence as soon as possible, and I want peace and better opportunities for my people in that same speed. I will obtain my objective one way or the other, Granger. Whether you obtain yours along the way is up to you. Now, I suggest you move back to England. A year from now there will be another election and I look forward to shake the hand of the youngest Minister of Magic ever.'

'And if I lose those elections because of my age?'

'I will go for option number two. I have had enough of it, Hermione, listening to report after report after report of vampire slayings and not being able to do a thing about it. It will end soon. I would prefer it to be peacefully, but I take a war if I can't get that. However, there is something that puzzles me.'

'Pray tell.'

'When you came to us, you seemed eager to lift that blood bond quickly. I remember clearly all the in-depth magical investigations you performed, the people you visited. Why are you now, all of the sudden, dragging your feet?'

'I am not dragging my feet. I am being realistic.'

'I'm just asking, because if you changed your mind about Riddle, then we could make a diff-'

'I haven't changed my mind,' Hermione hissed. 'I need this connection broken or I'll never be certain of anything in my life, ever.'

'Hmmm…'

Vishna looked at her thoughtfully, a slightly curious expression on his face. His lip curved up for a brief second. Sometimes, Hermione didn't get the reactions of the vampire at all. It was like he had information about her she lacked. He'd helped her out a million times now, but there was always this little nagging voice inside her head, warning her about possible ulterior motives.

Vishna reached into his pocket and held out a newspaper to her silently.

Hermione frowned and accepted it curiously. When she unfolded it, she quickly recognised the bold print as belonging to the Daily Prophet. The huge headline about the latest philanthropic deed of Saint Riddle made her scowl, and she crumbled the paper together when she saw who wrote said article.

'Stupid Skeeter,' Hermione sneered.

'Maybe it's not Skeeter who's being stupid,' Vishna suggested softly.

'Not you too,' she replied tiresomely.

Vishna shrugged. 'There hasn't been any indication Riddle chose the same path as before, and he has had plenty of opportunities by now.'

'No indication,' Hermione said with a snort. 'Surely, you're not that gullible. You've lived for centuries. Don't tell me you haven't paid better attention. It's like Charles Baudelaire stated, "The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist."'

'Good ol' Charlie has said some other interesting things about evil as well,' Vishna grinned. 'I don't hear you quoting those. Because they're not up your alley?' he taunted.

'Has?' she inquired, frowning. The man was long dead.

'Vamp,' Vishna explained shortly. 'You'd like him or…' –he tilted his head questioningly– 'you'd stake him. Probably, the latter.' He sniggered. 'Anyway, I am not saying Riddle hasn't crossed a line or two, but neither have you.' He gave her a knowing look. 'So maybe you two are-'

'What?' Hermione snapped. She was getting thoroughly irritated by the vampire and his stupid suggestions.

'She who protests…'

'Hold your tongue, old man, or I will cut it out,' Hermione said coldly, and a red gleam was briefly visible in her eyes.

Vishna watched her calmly. 'Like I thought, you might need the Knot sooner than you think, Hermione. Until then, I suggest you control those impulses. You have one year, Minister.'

Crack.

And Hermione sat alone on the bench, feeling quite agitated and ready to blow up the next vampire that had the nerve to walk through the gate. She swirled to her feet and stalked back to the manor.

'How did it go with Vishna?' Viktor asked when she re-entered the bedroom.

Upon seeing her face, he already knew the answer. 'That well, eh?' he added.

Hermione nodded and changed back into her pyjamas before she crawled underneath the covers.

'Do you think I could get away with killing every single one of those conniving, bloodsucking, impatient idiots?' she asked rhetorically. 'They want me to run for Minister of Magic now. Now! I am only thirty-four, but Vishna thinks I can get elected. He has lost his mind completely.'

'Actually,' Viktor said cautiously, 'he might not be mistaken.'

'What?' Hermione said, surprised. 'You agree with him?'

'I've been looking at the political landscape in the UK for quite some time now. And we could never have run against Kingsley Shacklebolt and his impeccable reputation, but he announced that he will be retiring after this year. So, at the moment, there is a significant void in available qualified candidates.'

'I am thirty-four,' Hermione repeated.

'I know and normally I would agree with you that for this post your age would be too huge a hindrance, but I think with the current political climate it won't matter. Shacklebolt's administration is exceptionally popular. However, he has no successor. You could become that, but we will have to move fast before people ask Harry Potter to take the job, because we sure as hell can't run against him.'

'Harry has no interest in politics,' Hermione replied, dismissing that insane suggestion.

'Maybe not, but I doubt he would back away from the responsibility when called upon. And I'd rather use him in our campaign.'

'You've been planning the campaign already?' asked Hermione, and she snorted.

Nothing ever changed in the Krum family. She wouldn't be surprised if he had already asked his sisters Victoria and Angela to start polling on her candidature and the major issues.

'Yeah, I have. Care to see the outcome of our polling data?' Viktor asked, excited.

Hermione chuckled. She certainly knew her husband. She watched how he summoned a clipboard and held it out to her enthusiastically.

'The numbers can't possibly be that good,' Hermione muttered, unsure of Viktor's cheerfulness.

Viktor merely raised his eyebrows mischievously. 'If you say so,' he replied happily.

Hermione quietly read the data of the polling bureau Victang, and when she was finished, she laid down the clipboard and placed her hands underneath her chin, contemplating.

Viktor watched her expectantly. 'Well?' he asked, eager for a reply.

'Interesting outcome,' Hermione mused, 'those numbers…' –she shook her head– 'they must be-'

'-a polling error?' Viktor finished. 'That's what I said to Angela when she called me about them. But this isn't the first poll and the outcomes remain steady. By the looks of it, you could win the next election easily. Not even Grogan Stump had this many supporters in the UK, and he was the most popular Minister of Magic your country ever had. All we need to do is not botch up things during the campaign.'

Hermione snorted at the concept. She had been a part of several Krum election campaigns; the ones of the uncle and aunt, who both ran for senator, and the one from the niece, who had become a district Governor. Viktor was born and raised into a political household. His grandmother had been Minister of Magic in Bulgaria for three decades and both his parents had been involved in every election. You could say a lot of things about the Krums, but one thing was for certain, they knew how to run a smooth and professional campaign. It was why their bureau Victang was the most wanted campaign management bureau in the whole world.

Hermione sighed and sat back against her pillow, placing her hands underneath her head. 'I'm not certain we can do this now,' she said thoughtfully. 'Rose… I don't know.'

'Rose is old enough,' said Viktor calmly. 'I understand what you're saying, Hermione.'

Hermione shook her head. There was so much at risk here. Moving back to the UK meant staying in one place for a long time. The ancient Mayan Charm she'd discovered in a hidden magical sanctuary in Honduras had made it impossible for Riddle to track her, which up until now meant relative safety for her husband and daughter. They were hardly ever home, so Tom'd had no luck catching them there. Hermione had seen people spying around their mansion, but it had been relatively easy to confund them into believing the house was empty. However, she had recognised Tom's handiwork on a couple of occasions during their travels. Still, she'd managed to evade him and she was certain he had not got a glimpse of them personally. In the UK, however, it would be a whole different ballgame.

And she felt slightly selfish she was doing this to Viktor. She had held Ron at arm's length, because she cared too much about him and didn't want to go to his funeral. But at least Ron knew whom Tom Riddle was. Viktor had no idea whom he was up against. He knew she was on the run from some dark wizard, but he had no idea it was Lord Voldemort, and she couldn't tell him. Viktor would alert the authorities, of that she was sure. Tom's and her life-force were too interconnected – she didn't dare risk his life before she'd broken that damned bond. From a security point of view, going to the UK was the worst thing she could do. It would be impossible to avoid Riddle there.

On the other hand, if she didn't do this, the wizarding world would be thrown in a full scale war with the vampires, and then, there wouldn't be a single safe haven in the world. She nudged the wall with the back of her head repeatedly. She would have to juggle so many balls in the air. One was bound to come crashing down on her head.

'I'll write Harry we'll be coming home,' she finally decided.

'Yes,' said Viktor victoriously. 'I'll contact Victoria and Angela that we'll need them.'

And he jumped out of bed.

'Honey, it is five a.m.,' Hermione said, shocked.

'Ah, I can't sleep anymore.'

'Well, maybe they can. You can't possibly wake your sisters at this hour.'

'Trust me, when it comes down to this campaign, I can wake them in the middle of the night.'

'And you can do that often enough once we've announced our candidature,' Hermione mumbled disapprovingly at the figure that vacated the bedroom.

She knew full well that once a campaign started, the people managing it hardly got any good night's rest at all. And she decided there was no reason whatsoever for her not to get a bit of sleep right now. She snuggled further underneath the warm and soft covers and made herself comfortable, pushing the guilty feelings aside. She'd have enough time to worry about Tom Riddle once she got to the UK. She dozed off quickly.

xXxXx

'Hermione! Hermione!' yelled Harry.

'It was his voice, wasn't it? It couldn't be,' Hermione thought, confused.

But someone shook her rather persistently. 'Knock it off,' she muttered.

She was certain she saw a telltale silver flash. But that was impossible. Those books were destroyed after all. Still, the thought bothered her severely, and she opened her eyes. The world spun. How come every muscle in her body hurt so much? She hadn't strained a single one of them while fighting Vishna's men. She finally regained her focus and…

Shocked, she looked around. She was outside. How did she get here?

Hermione scrambled to her feet. She was surrounded by trees and bushes. The sun desperately tried to break through the dense roofing of leaves, but it seemed unable to do more than provide the area with enough lighting for Hermione to check her appearance in. She looked horrific. Her clothes were torn and stained with blood, though the blood didn't appear to be hers. She quickly checked herself, but apart from some minor cuts and bruises she was fine.

Where were Rose and Viktor?

Suddenly, she heard noises in the distance. Hermione pulled out her wand and proceeded in that direction. Perhaps she could get some answers as to what happened from whoever was out there. She didn't have to walk long. The sun became brighter and brighter when she reached a clearing. All of a sudden, she knew where she was, but she couldn't possibly be here.

She ran the last bit, and her eyes fell on the remains of Hagrid's hut. The Hogwarts' Castle appeared damaged, yet again. And all among the fields around the castle, there lay bodies, dead bodies, everywhere. This couldn't be.

Hermione walked around them in a daze. She saw Neville, Hannah, Minerva, Ron, Ginny, …Harry!

She ran to him and fell down on her knees. Grabbing Harry by his shoulders, she shook him; but his eyes were empty, devoid of all light and kindness that used to be in them.

How was that possible? He had just called out to her. She was certain she had heard him before. How could he be dead if he called out her name?

She looked around devastated. What on earth had happened?

It was when she heard a noise, two male voices talking not far away from her. They were hidden from view due to the Whomping Willow, but she recognised Vishna's voice. Vampires, vampires did this? Vishna would condone a massacre like this?

She clutched onto her wand, and slowly, peeked around the large tree, making sure to stay out of range of its punching branches. Her breath got stuck in her throat when she saw him standing there. The old vampire prince she considered a friend. Vishna Vasuki was covered in blood and he talked animatedly to another vampire, whom was none other than Prince Vlad. She recognised him from the Dracul emblem on his cloak. A third vampire stood with his back to her. The two vampire princes started laughing. It disgusted Hermione. They laughed, while standing in a field of dead bodies – her friends' dead bodies.

Well, there were only three of them.

She had no idea who the third one was, since his hood was up and his cloak obscured any possibility to identify him, but she sure as hell could take down three vampires, princes or not, no questions asked. Hermione stepped to the side into plain view, her wand raised. Vlad and Vishna stopped laughing and looked straight at her. Her first curse hurtled to Vlad.

'There she is!' shouted Vishna, smirking when Vlad had to dive to the ground quickly. 'My Lord.'

She froze upon hearing the use of that title. No!

Her eyes whirled to the third individual she had not identified yet and he swirled around. The motion caused his hood to drop and she stared into a pair of livid scarlet, slit-pupil eyes, whose ferocious gaze seemed even more prominent in that white, snakelike face of his. It was the Lord Voldemort of her past, not Tom.

She squeezed her eyelids together and shook her head a couple of times, because she was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. However, when she opened them again the panorama had remained unchanged. Well, there was this minor, insignificant, tiny, little detail that had altered. Voldemort had raised his wand and his curse was already on route toward her. A small smile graced his features when the jet of red light hit her dead on, and everything turned black around her, as she crashed to the ground, unconscious.

xXxXx

'Hermione - Hermione? Rise and shine, dear!'

She opened her eyes and screamed her lungs out, when she saw Vishna staring at her.

'Granger?' he asked, concerned, and he looked back at the door. 'I used a Sound Deadening Charm, but my god, that scream could wake the dead.'

Hermione sat up straight, still shaking inside. Confused, she watched her environment. She was inside her bedroom and perspired heavily. Her pyjama was thoroughly soaked. It was a nightmare. Thank Merlin, it was a nightmare. A very vivid nightmare, again. She had a lot of those lately. It made her feel ominous, like she was missing something – something of the size of the vital clue of the mystery novel.

Something wicked this way comes.

'That must have been one nasty dream,' Vishna said, eyeing her dishevelled appearance up and down.

'You could say that,' Hermione said hoarsely, still haunted by the visuals of the dead people, as she looked up at Vishna. 'You know I had a vivid nightmare like this before. It involved a dark wizard, a magic school, and lots and lots of Fiendfyre. I got killed in that dream, and later on, I experienced that dream for real.'

'And because you dreamt about it, you escaped,' Vishna speculated.

'No, I hadn't taken the dream seriously enough to take precautions. I escaped, because someone else cheated and made a few changes in time.'

'Time is not something to trifle with, Hermione,' Vishna warned.

'Preaching to the choir, here, Vishna, preaching to the choir.'

'I hope so, because the consequences of time-tampering can be extremely harsh and if the others find you screwing around with time again, they may get into action.'

'Are you ever going to tell me why you vampires are so adamantly against time-travel?'

'Well,' Vishna started, his eyes twinkling deviously, 'I could give you the information, but then, I'd have to bite you for real and turn you into a creature of the night.'

Hermione stuck out her tongue. 'I am not that curious.'

'Lucky you. Well, perhaps this time around, you can take some precautions. I hope it had nothing to do with our little enterprise, because you know how superstitious we vampires are.'

'No, you were not involved,' Hermione lied casually.

'Splendid, then we still are good to go. I trust the Krum crowd downstairs means you're off to Britain for an election?' asked Vishna, curiously.

'Yes, I am,' said Hermione.

Vishna rubbed his hands together and gave her a beaming smile. 'Wonderful, wonderful, everything is going to turn out as it should,' he muttered. 'Now, if you would be so kind and wake up Rose, I will be off to tell her a fabulous vampire tale.'

Hermione looked at her alarm. It was already nine o'clock in the morning. 'You can go in there yourself. I'm certain Rose won't need wakening and since she's expecting you, her curtains will be closed. She probably is wondering what's keeping you.'

'All right,' said Vishna cheerfully, and he straightened his cloak and left to see Rose.

Hermione watched the tall vampire leave with a doubtful expression on her face. This time around she couldn't take her dream so lightly. Vlad, Vishna and Voldemort, it was the deathliest of combinations.

A combination that made no sense whatsoever.

Prince Vishna had always firmly opposed Lord Voldemort in the past. And Prince Vlad and Vishna barely were able to walk through the same door together without it turning into a full scale brawl. Sure, it was common knowledge that the Dracul Order had been strong Voldemort supporters in the past. So, Vlad and Voldemort was easily explained. But how could Vishna possibly fit into this picture? It made absolutely no sense at all.

And then, there was the little issue of Riddle turning into that again, because it couldn't have been the other one – he was dead. Hermione growled and rubbed through her hair in frustration.

Fine, another ball that needs juggling, she thought resentfully. Fortunately, I don't dream about things that could become actual big problems. This only requires some minor precautions. It's not like those three could cause some actual mayhem. Things are definitely lightening up.

'Time to owl Harry I'm going home, and oh, that my new name is Hermione Trelawney,' she muttered sarcastically on her way to the shower. 'Now where is the sherry?'