Harry exited the Leaky Cauldron with a frown on his face, his emotional turmoil rampant in his mind and heart.

Pregnant, his Hermione was pregnant...

Wasn't it the witch's responsibility not to get careless enough to get knocked up?

He swallowed his anxiety about the situation, and shook his head angrily. The brunette witch would keep her mouth shut, if she knew what was good for her. He spent way too much time and effort in securing the Weasley family to be his own, and some witch, friend or not, did not have the right to interfere with his plans, even if he considered her his in a way. Unfortunately she was not his Queen-to-be, she could not be, when his plans depended on the family of redheads.

A slow, calculating smirk tugged at his lips, thinking about how naive and open-hearted the Weasleys were. Well, sure, he knew that they longed for the perks of being close to him, but he had more money that he could spend in three lifetimes, let alone in one. He could afford to spoil them rotten, and that made them a very willing, albeit unknowing, accomplice in his plans to take over the wizarding world.

Fighting in this bloody war made him realize that there was merit in Voldemort's, and Dumbledore's plans for being on top of the power game, but their tactics were rather lacking.

Discriminating between Dark and Light, Pureblood and Muggleborn were all brutish ways to get to the top. He had no problems with bloodlines, nor did he particularly care about the type of magic the wizarding world used. All he cared about was power, and with no dividing political and magical elements, he would have a much better chance to draw in his own inner circle of powerful magic wielders, his eager-to-please minions.

Harry chuckled darkly at the thought that he was pretty much already more influential with the public, than the Dark and Light Lords of the past could ever hope to be, as they were indebted to his heroics in saving them from their reign. It was such a genius move on his part, that he wanted to pet himself on the shoulder for a good job done.

Now, he just needed to plot and plan how to subtly get into power with the Ministry as well.

When he finally reached the apparation point, he spun around his heel, and visualized the back garden of the Burrow. The raven-haired wizard wanted to have a little chat with Ron, to influence him towards a position of power, that actually suited him well, and discourage him from playing professional Quidditch.

His redheaded friend was slightly flighty in tough situations, but at the end of the day, he always stood by his side, and with some proper training, the youngest Weasley boy could be a right powerhouse, and he had plans to utilize that.

Harry's feet landed with a noisy thud on the soft soil of Molly's garden, the tall grass lightly brushing against his knees. His nostrils flared at the sweet scent of flowers, and freshly baked treacle tarts, which made him curl his lips into another smirk. His adoptive mother figure surely knew how to treat him well, and he would reward that later, and buy Molly something nice. A new magical stove perhaps? An updated wardrobe for the family? He would have to sniff around and see what she would prefer.

He walked into the house, his smirk morphing into a happy grin at the sight of Ron and Ginny playing wizard chess. He cleared his throat, and a blurry redheaded missile crushed into him, kissing him for all she was worth. Harry's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, and tasting her soft lips.

The wizard could not help but compare her taste to Hermione's. They were obviously very different witches, and their kisses were Heaven and Earth.

The curly-haired witch lit his insides on fire, and fueled his desire to possess all of her, she was simply his, in every sense of the word, even if he had chosen Ginny and told Hermione that she could not compare - she really could not compare, as the young woman was so much more to him, yet, she would have to remain his dirty little secret, and he liked that -, and he would take his time reminding her of that.

The striking beauty wrapped in his arms was desirable, but he did not feel the earth-shattering need to possess her. Oh, she was his, as she would always be, but there was something exciting about the forbidden fruit.

Ginevra's allure was her shiny red hair, and her beautiful doe eyes, with those shapely long legs that just screamed sexuality, and he had no doubt she was a wild cat between the sheets. With her, he saw a future. He could easily mold her to be his Queen, she would not rule, oh no, but she would make a charming trophy wife to show off, that Hermione would never agree to be.

Harry did not need, nor did he want an equal partnership, which was one of the most important reasons with rejecting his bookworm. He wanted power, absolute dictatorship, and his delectable Granger would fight with all her might against that. That would be bothersome, because he had no intention in breaking her spirit, or her body, no he did not want to actually physically hurt her, and he would have to do that in order to tame her.

Where was the fun in that?

Hermione Granger was better left the way she was, feisty and powerful. If he played his cards right, he could eventually lure her to his side, using her brilliant mind for his purposes. He might have to play dirty and seduce her further, but it would be a worthy sacrifice.

Harry inwardly snorted. 'As if it would be a sacrifice to have her writhing under me again...', he moaned at the thought, which Ginny assumed was generated by her kiss.

"Hello love," She purred huskily.

Harry pulled back a bit, twirling a lock of her flaming tresses around his left index finger. "It's good to see you, babe." He winked cheekily. "How are things?"

She giggled girlishly at his flirting, and pulled him towards Ron. "We were just finishing another game, although Ron keeps beating me." She pouted.

Ron looked up at her sister with a smirk. "That's because you don't have an ounce of strategy in that pretty little head of yours, Gin."

She scowled, brandishing her wand, ready to hex her brother, when Harry simply locked his arms around her. "Harry!" She squeaked. "Let me go, Ron needs to learn a lesson." She shouted, her eyes darkening with a promise of revenge.

Ron was smart enough to placate her. "Come on, Gin, you know I did not mean it like that." He sighed. "I was just saying that strategy is not your thing, but that does not mean you are not absolutely amazing..." His voice trailed off soothingly.

Harry smirked at Ron from behind the curtain of the witch's hair, at the very Slytherin tactic that he was using on her. It was a shared secret of theirs, that the Hat wanted to put them both into Slytherin, but they practically demanded a place in Gryffindor.

Ginny visibly sagged against Harry's chest. "Oh, okay. I am sorry for accusing you of ill intent, Ron." She smiled. "I will go and get us some Butterbeer and a piece of treacle tart from the kitchen." She murmured, and kissed Harry's cheek.

When she was out of sight, Harry turned towards his friend with a grin. "That was nicely done, mate." He complimented him.

Ron grinned back at his best friend. "I had years of practice with placating her, I am surprised she had not caught on yet." He shrugged.

Harry chuckled. "Indeed." He nodded. "I actually did not come to visit with your sister, I wanted to discuss something with you." He admitted, his tone serious.

"Oh?" Ron asked, raising a pale red brow.

"Well, I was discussing career opportunities with Sirius and Remus, and I decided that I wanted to be Auror." He shared.

"Yeah? I kind of figured you would like to follow in your father's footsteps." He paused, and tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I talked with Dad about opportunities, and decided to pursue a career in Quidditch. The Chudley Cannons are having a try out session tomorrow, as their Keeper had recently had an accident." He explained with a bright smile plastered on his face.

"That's great Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "Although I thought that you would like to come with me to be an Auror..." He added in a purposefully hesitant voice. "But, I understand your passion for flying." He paused dramatically. "Did you know that the Auror Department has a Flying Squad? They all have Firebolts," He dangled the bait.

This Department was a new addition, that Kingsley sanctioned at his behest, because he saw the reason in his request. After all, who could ever deny The Boy Who Conquered?

Ron's eyes widened comically. "They do?" He echoed. "The Cannons only fly on Nimbus brooms..." He frowned. "Hey Harry, do you think I have the potential to be an Auror?"

"Oh, Ron, you have no idea..." He grinned at his victory.

If every part of his plans went this smoothly, then the wizarding world would soon have a new ruler in their midst...

~oo~oOo~oo~

Meanwhile, Hermione was gripping the side of the table she sat at so fiercely, that her knuckles were white from the pressure, and she was struggling to breathe properly. She never felt so humiliated in her entire life, that she did when Potter snarked at her, gloating about his feelings for his perfect little redheaded Princess, while talking down to her, like..., like she was merely dirt under his shoes.

What happened to the boy, who was kind enough to save a bossy little swot from a mountain troll?

What happened to the warm-hearted friend, who stood up for those, who were too afraid to stand up for themselves?

When did Harry become so cold and unfeeling, and so ready to throw his fame around?

And most importantly, how could she fail so spectacularly at noticing these disturbing changes in him, before they were blatantly thrown into her face?

Hermione had shut her eyes tightly, her lips pressing into a thin line, as her brain was viciously denying that the boy she was in love with could be so horrible. There had to be some kind of mistake here.

Glistening teardrops pooled in the corners of her eyes, as she was fighting an inner battle with the harsh reality that slapped her in the face. 'Grow up Granger, and accept the fact that not everything is as it seems, and even you cannot know every little thing...' she reprimanded herself, her body trembling.

The muggleborn witch stiffened, as she heard faint footsteps, a whoosh of fabric, and a soft thud, as someone invited themselves to sit at the very table she had occupied. Her blood had frozen in her veins, when she heard the familiar sarcastic drawl, and the soft clink of a potion vial being shoved her way.

"You better drink this, Miss Granger, it would be unseemly to have a panic attack in such a public area." Severus Snape said smoothly, as he cast a subtle Muffliato Charm.

Hermione opened her eyes, her eyelashes beaded with salty mist, her gaze examining the Calming Draught in front of her. It was not like she did not trust Snape's brewing abilities, because he was brilliant, but she was rather unsure, if it was a good idea to drink a potion in her current condition.

"I am uncertain whether that would be appropriate, sir." She said in a small, hesitant voice.

Severus raised a well-shaped brow. "Why ever not, Miss Granger, surely you are not insinuating that I would poison The Brightest Witch of Her Age in broad daylight, surrounded by a handful of potential witnesses?" He asked, with the slightest upward twitch of his lips.

Hermione couldn't help herself, and snorted. "Hardly." She said quietly, but did not offer any further explanation.

The dark wizard studied the witch in front of him, and if he was honest with himself, what he saw bothered him immensely. The insufferable little chit was paler and much thinner, than he remembered her, not to mention the obvious tell-tale signs of her distress. He was well aware of the role she played in the war, and that she had a rather difficult year, but he suspected that Granger's emotional disquiet had to do with Potter.

Severus' eyes trailed her petite form, since she entered the Leaky, and he witnessed the curious exchange between Potter and her, from a distance. It was obvious to everyone with a functioning pair of eyes that their conversation was awkward, and from the Gryffindor Princess' body language, he surmised that their chat had quickly turned into something painfully unpleasant.

The Potions Master was almost sad to find that he was disappointed that Potter seemed to prove that he was indeed as arrogant as his father was in his prime. He actually never thought he would see the day, when the dunderhead treated the muggleborn witch so abysmally in public, but it appeared that there were some things, that even he could not predict.

"Does your hesitation have something to do with Potter?" He asked pointedly, and saw the bookworm stiffen further, if that was even possible.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat, and she slightly panicked. "I-, I don't see how t-that is any of your b-business, sir." She choked.

There was a flicker of recognition in Severus Snape's eyes, and he had to slam down his Occlumency shields even tighter, not to show the simmering anger that was threatening to overtake him. "Miss Granger," He paused. "...Hermione, may I call you Hermione?" He asked quietly, and received a stunned nod. "I assure you, that the potion won't interfere with your condition. A Calming Draught is created with harmless ingredients, mostly herbs, as you know." He explained.

The witch's eyes widened comically at the realization that Snape knew about - oh she had absolutely no doubt that he knew - her pregnancy.

"Professor Snape-" Her voice wavered, but he interrupted.

"Severus," He insisted. "You have my permission to use my name, Hermione."

She blushed slightly at the oddly kind gesture, which amused the wizard, and stumbled over her words. "S-severus, please don't tell anyone about this." She swallowed. "Harry made it abundantly clear that he would ruin me, if..." Her voice trailed off, as she shut her eyes tightly, her knuckles whitening further at her tightening grasp on the table.

"Potter is an imbecile!" Severus sneered, his anger flashing through his shield. He stood up, gently unfurling her small hands from the edge of the table. "Relax witch," He whispered softly, his long fingers tenderly touching her temples. "You need to drink the potion to calm down, and then I will take you to see Minerva."

Hermione's shoulders slumped at the comforting touch. His fingertips were cold, a welcome sensation on her skin. She looked up at him, her eyes full of questions. "Professor McGonagall? Why would you take me to her?" She inquired.

He sighed. "Because I am not well equipped to care for young witches, nor do I think it would be proper." He explained. "However, Minerva is well versed with dealing with such situations..." He alluded to something, Hermione had no energy to even ponder about.

She nodded her consent and quaffed the potion without a word, her body relaxing, as the liquid trickled down her system. "Thank you." She sighed with relief, as her tightly wound nerves had unwound.

Severus nodded, and helped her to stand. "Are you well enough to apparate, or should we use the Leaky's Floo connection?"

Hermione worried her lips for a few moments. "I think that the Floo would be more appropriate for now."

"Alright." He hummed, as he cast a few privacy charms to protect from undesirable interlopers overseeing them, and with an arm firmly wrapped around her waist to steady her, he took off to find Tom.


A/N: Last night my Muse had a brainwave, in which I asked myself the question: "What if instead of the Weasleys using Harry, like it's written in a sea of fanfiction plots, he would use them instead?" It's a premise I have never seen done before, thus I am super freaking excited to write about it.

The Harry in this story is power hungry, and slightly insane, however as far as I planned for now, he won't be murdering people. He will use his connection to the Weasley family, to further his standings in the wizarding world, and plot world dominance.

As for Hermione, Severus is taking her under his wings, and potentially will end up with her, and be the father figure for her child, at least that's the plan for now. I cannot guarantee that my Muse won't change it, because it's flighty, thus I won't mark it in the character slot.

Anyway, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my lunatic chapter.