A/N- I'm a little bit disappointed with the feedback on the last chapter, so hopefully this one will get a better reaction out of you guys. As always, a huge huge thank you to Strotz as well as KomeKozzy425 - this story would still be sitting on Word, wasting away if it were for your faith in me and your help with ideas/betaing!

Don't forget to review!

Chapter Three

Draco sat at the dinner table where his friends were waiting – after they'd finished in the gym he'd gone to his room for a shower and to change. They'd spoken about nothing serious while they trained because they were all already focused enough by the hate flowing through their systems. The only people who were invited to dine at Malfoy Manor were his family, close friends, Tom, and now probably Hermione, once she was feeling better. The rest of the Death Eaters went back to their own homes for meals and only really came to the Manor if they had reason to be there – like if there was a new initiation or raids and missions going on. Draco piled food on his plate and the table lapsed into silence while everyone settled in and ate their dinner.

Draco was still angry about the things that had happened to Hermione, but that was mainly because he didn't agree with women being harmed in such a way. He had never had to deal with a victim of such abuse by himself before and it pissed him off beyond all reasonable measure. Theo and Blaise were each taking it on a more personal level and were fucking beasts in the gym that evening – Vince and Greg seemed to be almost contrite by the experience they'd went through the evening before. They were large, brutish men, but they were also sensitive about certain things and very soft-spoken.

Rape was one of the sensitivities.

There were of course Death Eaters who felt that rape was acceptable, the lowly ones who were old and disgusting and could never get a decent witch who was willing to have one off with them and the odd man who was just into that kind of shit, but Draco and his men weren't okay with it. Despite popular belief, the Death Eaters weren't an out of control radical group who wanted to kill off all Muggleborns and torture, rape and pillage. There were people who needed to be tortured and killed, of course, people who needed to be fucking destroyed, but it wasn't everyone in the world. Most of the rumours were the making of Albus Dumbledore and his pathetic fucking sidekick, Harry Potter, as was the name 'Voldemort' and the appearance of Tom.

The truth was that Tom wanted power; he wanted to be the ruler of the wizarding world and implement his own rules. He had shown prejudice towards Muggleborns when he was younger, before he realized their true potential, but he certainly didn't want to see them all dead. He wasn't an idiot and knew that eradicating any new blood into the world would only be detrimental in the long run. His main concern was he didn't want muggle traditions infiltrating the wizarding world. He felt that they should have different rules to follow, have to prove their abilities and need to fit themselves into the magical world seamlessly. If they couldn't do that, they wouldn't be invited to stay – in fact, they'd be obliviated of any knowledge of the Wizarding World and sent to live back in the muggle world where they clearly belonged. Obliviated, but not murdered.

Tom had already taken over St. Mungo's and that was only the tip of the iceberg; there were plans being made to take the Ministry as well, but Death Eaters needed to be in the proper positions before those plans could come to fruition.

"Did you tell your men about the new circumstances?" Tom asked Draco after a few minutes of silence.

"Hermione's going to be joining our squad and Tom would like her to be trained as thoroughly as we've been," Draco said, staring at his plate.

"So she's staying?" Theo asked, looking happier than he'd been since they'd found her broken and used body on the ground of a fucking forest.

"She hasn't specifically said she'll be staying, since I haven't spoken to her about everything yet, but I'm thinking that since she was brutally attacked by one Order member and then cursed by another… I can't imagine she'll go running back to them happily."

"They were supposedly her best friends, too," Blaise pointed out. "Imagine that betrayal."

"We don't know what exactly has been happening with her for the past year. For all we know she has fallen out with all of them. I'll know more tomorrow, though," Tom said.

"She's very sad," Narcissa said after swallowing a small bite of food. "She woke up for a while before I gave her the sleeping potion and she's… broken."

"Her best friend raped her, mother, of course she's upset," Draco said without thinking.

"We don't know that for sure!" Theo said, jumping in.

"She was definitely raped, Theodore, the Healer confirmed it earlier, even though Draco had already healed her wounds last night. Apparently the trauma from such incidents is still obvious on recently healed wounds to people who have been trained to see them…"

Theo set his fork down and turned to his squad leader with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

"You knew she was raped for sure and didn't bother saying anything?"

"I had to heal her, Theo, of course I knew. She made me swear I wouldn't tell you guys, though."

"That's bullshit! I've been friends with her for years and I deserved to know!"

"It wasn't my place," Draco snarled, dropping his fork as well.

"You should have told me!"

"Theo! It wasn't my place! What did you think we were doing when you all left us alone last night? Playing Exploding-fucking-Snap?! I was dealing with the extensive wounds she had attained while being attacked."

"Enough!" Tom yelled, his dark eyes glinting – Theo snapped his mouth shut immediately, the retort he had ready dying on his lips.

"Draco is the leader of your troupe and if he feels he needs to keep something from you, for whatever reason, then that's his business and his right. He was keeping the word he had given in order for your friend to allow him to heal her wounds, and if that doesn't make you happy, Theodore, then I don't know what will. You should be glad that Draco did what he had to do in order to obtain her trust."

Theo huffed out a breath as the words sunk in.

"You're right. You're all right, okay, I'm just upset. Seeing her like that last night…"

"None of us liked it, Theo."

"I know."

"It was awful for everyone, but she's healing and she's safe now, and that's what's important," Draco said diplomatically, picking up his fork again.

His mother smiled at his father and then turned to Tom, her eyes sparkling.

"What?" Draco asked, watching the exchange.

Narcissa looked up and saw that her son and his friends were all staring at the adults at the table.

"I wanted to talk to you earlier, Draco, and I want to finish the discussion we started," Tom said, and Draco felt his stomach clench as he laid his fork down on the table slowly.

"Now, we've already decided that Hermione will join you five with your daily training. I want you to really make her feel included."

"She's been a friend of mine and Theo's for years," Blaise said, staring at Tom. "So that won't be a problem for us."

"She was never mean to us in school," Greg said, gesturing between himself and Vince. "Not like her friends were, anyway." Vince shrugged and continued to eat.

"We've had our times and fights," Draco started uncertainly. "We made each other miserable sometimes in school, but I feel like something shifted a little bit last night."

"Shifted how?" Tom asked, his handsome face smiling as he continued to eat slowly.

"I don't know, I mean she trusted me to help her, we didn't share anything hateful and she told me what happened, for the most part. She didn't have to do that. She left today to speak to Potter – something we couldn't dissuade her from doing, by the way – and when she was in trouble she came right back to us. I think she trusts us more than everyone else in her life currently, and it's a nice feeling. It's nice to be there for someone when their life just went down the tubes so thoroughly…" Draco stopped talking when he felt everyone's eyes on him.

"Great," Tom said, all business now. "I want you to marry her before the winter solstice, Draco."

Draco grinned, picking up his fork again before the words had fully sunk in.

"What?!" he asked, looking up in shock and surprise. Of all the insane fucking things he'd been expecting to hear, it wasn't that. He looked around at his friends and saw they were all staring at Tom with shock, their food completely forgotten with this turn of events.

"You want me to… marry her?!"

"It has been the plan between me and your parents for the last few years – after we got our hands on her, that is."

"Why?" Draco asked, completely dumbfounded. He looked toward his parents who were sitting calmly and eating their dinner, like Draco's life hadn't just been changed drastically. His father even lifted his fork to his mouth and chewed his food slowly, watching his son the entire time.

"She's powerful, you're powerful. Good things can come from that, plus you've already managed to get her to trust you a little bit and will be spending a ridiculous amount of time with her in the future. And of course, if she were to bind herself to a Death Eater there really would be no turning back for her – not that I'm overly concerned about that being a problem."

"She's a muggleborn," Draco said weakly, watching his father's reaction. He was shocked to discover he wasn't going to get one with that argument.

"She's power," Tom spat, suddenly getting annoyed. "If you can't see that then I'll give the privilege to someone else. That's what this is, Draco! This is a privilege, and if you can't see it as such then you're a fool! You know as well as I do what the prophecy about her said, and if you don't want to willingly bind yourself to that power then you're a complete idiot."

"I understand," Draco said, trying to keep his cool even though his hands were suddenly extremely sweaty and he felt a little hot. He reached up and loosened his collar a little bit, "I understand your reasoning it was just unexpected and caught me off guard. I'll do it, of course, but I don't think she's going to be happy about this."

"Don't tell her right away," Tom said, shrugging a shoulder casually. "Let her warm up to you before you break the news."

Theo groaned quietly, almost like he was trying to keep it in and couldn't contain it.

"Don't pretend you wish you were in my position Theo, you fucking tosser," Draco said, causing the man's cheeks to heat up and his mother to choke on her wine.

"Draco!" his father admonished immediately.

"I'm not," Theo replied, shuddering slightly and ignoring the adults completely. "I'm just thinking about how annoying you guys are going to be once you come to terms with the attraction you've harboured since we were thirteen."

"What are you even talking about?"

"Oh, come on. Everyone who wanted to pay attention to it saw it. You two fought about anything and everything and you barely even saw each other!"

"Remember when she slapped you across the face?" Vince asked, laughing at the memory.

"Clearly," Draco said dryly, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

"Brilliant," Greg said, doing an impression of the look on Draco's face when Hermione had hit him.

/

Draco fled dinner as soon as it was polite so he could sit in his room and go over everything he'd just been told. He propped his feet on an ottoman while the fire roared in front of him. He was confused and, to be honest, a little fucking scared. He didn't love the fact that he was being ordering to marry anyone and he was more than a little bit surprised that his parents didn't seem to be objecting the matter at hand. He was twenty years old and didn't think he was really ready for such a thing, but by Pureblood perspective he was actually marrying late. He was sure Hermione would freak out whenever he decided to tell her and it wasn't like he could drag it out for months on end. If Tom expected them to be married by the winter solstice then he had less than six months to propose and get this goddamned wedding planned.

Draco heaved a sigh and called for his house elf to bring him a tumbler of Ogden's finest. He needed something to calm his nerves.

Draco wasn't naïve and he wasn't an idiot – if he was expected to marry for power he would of course do it; he just wasn't expecting the power to come from joining Hermione Granger in matrimony. He was always interested in the girl, always confused about her. She was a walking, talking oxymoron of everything his parents had taught him when he was younger, she was a Muggleborn but she was also incredibly smart and ridiculously powerful, things she shouldn't have been. His attraction to her after puberty was easily explained away by hormones, he was a boy, after all, and he thought he'd done a damn good job of hiding it. Apparently fucking not. He'd taken to bedding other witches on a regular enough basis and it had never been a problem – once they'd left school he didn't think he'd ever see her again except maybe on the battlefield, where he would have avoided her at all costs. He was banking on never fucking seeing her again.

Then he got home the evening of his graduation and learned everything that had been kept from him while he was still a student – learned how fucking detrimental she was to their plans. Draco and his men trained constantly and searched for Hermione simultaneously for two years and now that they'd found her he was being told, by Tom fucking Riddle, no less, that he'd be married to witch within six months.

The knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts and his father entered the room without waiting for permission, he held himself regally as he approached the small sitting area around the fire, and when he sat down in an armchair across from Draco he leaned back and crossed an ankle over the opposite knee.

"I know this has come as a shock," his father started. "We've been speaking about this for years, and we didn't inform you because it didn't seem as though we'd ever find the witch."

"Why her?" Draco asked, looking away from his father and watching the flames dance in the fireplace. Now that they weren't around Tom, Draco could ask his father the questions he really wanted answered while also being a little bit pouty about it. He'd never be able to question his Leader about his choices, but he could definitely ask his father.

"She's powerful, Draco, and that's the main thing. You know of the prophecy and know that she's going to help us win this war, we all know it and there's no sense in her being promised to anyone else. You're strong. You're twenty years old and lead your own squad, which has yet to fail, and you do so while maintaining a close friendship with every boy on your team. You're advanced at not only magic, but wandless, non-verbal magic, can speak parseltongue and can heal. You're strong, Draco. The two of you together? That will be something else entirely."

"She can be on my squad without me having to marry her."

"She can, yes, but neither of you will benefit from the shared power that comes with a traditional bonding ceremony. The power you both possess would double, Draco, and if we can just be honest here, I know you wouldn't be upset to share your life with someone who will give you a challenge."

"How could you possibly know she'd give me a challenge?"

"She did all throughout school, so I can't imagine it would be any different now. This is a privilege for you and I wish you'd see it as such – Tom came to us with the idea when you were only fifteen and we jumped at the opportunity."

"So that's why you stopped with the 'mudblood' bullshit all of a sudden – you didn't want to confuse me any more than was necessary."

"Yes," Lucius said seriously. "That's exactly why."

Draco sighed and finally met his father's eyes, "And if she's not on board?"

"Convince her," Lucius said with a shrug. "But considering the way she looked when she came to us, I don't think it would be too hard to get her on our side. Oh, and by the way, don't speak to anyone about this. No one needs to know until they get the invitation to your wedding."

Draco nodded and looked back at the fire, "What about Pansy?" he asked after a few minutes. "I can hardly go along sleeping with her when I know I'm about to become betrothed to someone else."

"Break it off. Immediately."

"She's not going to take it well. You know that both she and her parents have had their eye on her becoming the next Lady Malfoy for years, they might see it as a slap in the face."

"It doesn't matter in the long run. End it with her and begin courting Hermione as soon as she's well."

"I don't think she's going to respond to that very well, especially after what she's just been through."

"Well, figure it out," Lucius said, standing and preparing to leave the room. "And make sure you give it real effort, Draco."

Draco nodded and stood from his chair, advancing on his bed slowly while stripping off his clothes and leaving a trail behind him. He dropped into it, tired – so fucking tired – but lay awake for hours, thinking about the direction his life was about to take and thinking about the girl down the hall, sedated so that she could sleep restfully for probably the first time in a long while.

Hermione's head felt heavy, like it was full of rocks, and her mouth tasted like chicken feathers as she slowly blinked herself awake. She looked around and took in the large bedroom she was laying in, her muscles straining and her arms aching. The bed was huge and insanely soft as she stretched. She recalled being incredibly sore when she woke up before and Narcissa Malfoy told her all about how Harry had used an ancient curse on her and if Tom – Tom? – hadn't been there she very well could have died.

Hermione sat up slowly and looked to her left to see Mrs. Malfoy sitting in an armchair reading a book.

"Christ!" she exclaimed, jumping slightly and slapping her good hand into her chest. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry," Mrs. Malfoy said, giving her a timid smile while ignoring the curses that tripped so easily from the girls tongue. "How are you feeling?" she asked, setting her book on the side table and rising gracefully to her feet.

"Sore, but better than I was," Hermione answered, shuffling to the edge of the bed and letting her feet hang off. She fixed her eyes on Mrs. Malfoy – narrowing them as she remembered more. "You drugged me."

"I slipped you a mild sleeping potion, yes," she answered, surprising Hermione with her honesty. "You were much too tired to try and figure everything out and Tom thought it would be better if you were well rested before you met with him. We didn't want it to seem as though we were taking advantage of your mental state to sway you into the things you'll be talking with Tom about."

"Tom?" Hermione asked, somewhat confused.

"Tom Riddle," Mrs. Malfoy answered, a small smile on her face.

"Oh…" Hermione didn't understand why the fuck they were referring to him in such a way when everyone knew him as Voldemort, but maybe it was a respect thing.

"If you wanted to freshen up I could let him know you're awake and would like to meet with him? I mean, if you're still planning on speaking with him instead of high tailing it out of here, that is."

"I'd definitely like to meet him, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you."

"Narcissa, please."

"Okay, well, thank you, uh… Narcissa."

"You'll find the bathroom to be completely stocked with anything you'll need. I'll go speak to Tom and then come back to show you the way to the study, he's going to be surprised that you're already feeling well enough to talk to him, but we all know, of course, how strong you are, so maybe he won't be. Miss. Granger dear?"

Hermione was looking at Narcissa like she'd lost her fucking mind. She'd never expected to hear someone as regal and put together as Narcissa Malfoy babble – never mind be in the same room as her telling her strong she was.

"Hermione, please," Hermione answered, echoing Narcissa's sentiments with a tiny smile.

"Hermione… I'm very glad that you're okay, and if you need another female to speak with please feel free to talk to me about anything you need."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly, feeling her lower lip tremble, which was ridiculous. She'd been through so much, so fucking much, in the last two days that she really should have been able to keep it together when someone offered her something as simple as an ear to listen.

The two witches shared a small smile, Narcissa's understanding where Hermione's was slightly watery before they turned away from each other and headed in their own directions.

/

Hermione was waiting in an office, Lucius Malfoy's study, judging by the pictures of his family scattered around the room, waiting for Tom to come speak with her. She was nervous, her stomach clenching, hands shaking and her head spinning somewhat – this had to turn out well, fucking had to, or she'd be dead. She knew that he had saved her, his Death Eaters had saved her, and they'd let her sleep in their house for the night, but that didn't mean Voldemort just wanted her well so he could kill her himself. In her nervousness she'd completely forgotten about the prophecy for a moment and let her fears take over.

She wiped her hands on her jeans for the fourth time and then the door opened. Hermione couldn't help but to gasp aloud in surprise. She definitely wasn't expecting Tom Riddle to be so… well… fucking hot was the only way to describe the man who had entered the room – he was older, but he was still shockingly good looking. Nothing like she'd been told – ever – and she couldn't help but to stare at him for a few moments longer than was probably polite. He had long legs and Hermione figured he topped out at six feet, he wasn't wearing wizarding robes – which in itself was interesting enough – and he looked fit. Tom had a head of dark hair that was greying slightly at the temples, dark eyes rimmed with black lashes – almost like he was wearing some dark eyeliner – and a smile that she could see breaking a few hearts. The rumours about Bellatrix Lestrange being absolutely besotted with the man suddenly seemed extremely fucking believable.

"Ahh, listening to Dumbledore's lies, I see. This is truly how I look, Miss. Granger, I assure you."

"But even Harry said…"

"Harry Potter's mind is constantly being manipulated by Dumbledore, although the potion on the dagger he was cut open with when he was fourteen probably didn't help," the man in front of her said with a slightly chilling smile. "I didn't need him running around speaking about how I actually look. This way I'm free to wander most of the wizarding world – I really only have to watch out for Dumbledore and a few of my old professor's, but since they're mostly dead or have moved away from England, it isn't a big deal."

"That's actually quite smart," Hermione answered grudgingly, surprised by the way Tom was being so outright with her. She looked up to see that he was staring at her hand, but when he realized he was caught looking he swept his slightly graying hair away from his eyes and took a seat behind Lucius' desk. "I take it you aren't out on raids with your Death Eaters, then?"

"We wear masks, Miss. Granger, no one's the wiser."

"Hermione, please," she said, just as she had to Narcissa.

Tom smiled his winning smile at her. "I'm glad you're doing well," he said, and he sounded sincere. "I've arranged for Healer Forsythe to come back this evening before you go to sleep with some Skele-gro. That hand needs to be in working order."

"Thank you," Hermione said, her head bowed slightly. "I appreciate everything you've already done for me."

"I think everyone would appreciate it if you had two hands to fight with," he said with a slight chuckle.

Hermione really didn't want to like the powerful man sitting before her as much as she already did. He was exceptionally good looking and ridiculously fucking charming – she was already won over.

"I've known about you for quite a long time, Miss… Hermione, and I have to admit that the power you possess would be great for me. Not only are you powerful magically but you've also got a strong mind, a fair heart, and would help me to show the world that I'm not out to murder every Muggleborn who exists. I can just imagine the damage you would cause on the battlefield, even if you'd lost your wand I'm sure you'd be able to rig something up. I know for a fact that you'd be able to help me come up with ways to gain followers without having to go about murdering everyone imaginable, and I feel like if anyone can help repair the damage I did to my reputation in my earlier years, it would be you."

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to disagree with you – it's exceedingly obvious how good I am without a wand… as was proven just the other night."

"Well, you haven't been trained yet."

"You train me?! Hermione fucking Granger – mudlood extraordinaire?" Hermione said, sounding extremely bitter, but damn it she was bitter! "I'm surprised you haven't already killed me – that your men kept me alive after they found me in that goddamned forest and then brought me to you. I'm surprised I didn't spend my entire night locked in some dungeon with stone floors and no blankets." Then Hermione remembered who, exactly, she was speaking to and her face lost all colour in seconds as her eyes snapped up and met Tom Riddle's soft brown ones.

"Relax, Miss. Granger – if I wanted you dead I wouldn't have had my men out searching for you for the last two years. This is exactly what I'm talking about, a perfect example, really. I had years to think about my mistakes while I was waiting for a new body and I obviously realized that I've been doing things very, very wrong – I don't want to go on a genocidal rampage and kill off every Muggeborn out there. I do, however, want their worth as a magical citizen measured before allowing them to live in our world and drain our money when they won't be able to contribute anything worthwhile. I may not be as smart as you, but I am smart enough to realize that Muggleborn witches and wizards bring in new bloodlines and if I was to rid the world of them we would be doomed at some point. Maybe not while I'm alive, but down the road it would happen."

Hermione was shocked beyond all recognition. Is this what Ginny was speaking about when she said that Harry didn't want me to realize what was really going on?

"You don't want to murder Muggleborns?"

"Nope."

"You want to test their magical ability to see if they'd be a contribution?"

"That's right," Tom said, smiling at her.

Holy hell.

"Let's talk about the Order of the Phoenix," Tom said smoothly, changing the subject.

Hermione shook her head, feeling a lot braver than she did before Tom had entered the room. "I won't talk about them yet, Sir. I'm sorry but I'm not going to give you any information without some sort of reassurance that I won't be murdered directly after. After I receive some assurance I'll gladly tell you every single fucking thing I know."

Hermione was expecting anger, but instead Tom chuckled merrily again. "I wouldn't murder you, but I can completely understand where you're coming from. Although, what I want to know is their treatment of you. Draco and his men have informed me of what they stumbled across in the forest of Dean and I'm just curious what had happened."

"I fled the Order of the Phoenix after being attacked – well, I was already planning on leaving, actually, the attack just slowed me down some."

"Who attacked you?"

Hermione looked up and met Tom's eyes, measuring whether she should divulge the information. What was the worst that could happen? He'd kill Ron? Good fucking riddance, in her opinion.

"Ronald Weasley."

"Why did he attack you?"

"I'm honestly not sure."

"Why were you planning on fleeing the Order of the Phoenix?"

"They kept me there for two years without even letting me even take one fucking step out of that hell hole. The Order is not something I want to be a part of – they kill people without asking any questions – kill people basically for existing. Harry has lost his mind, as well as some of the other core members."

"I know the Order of the Phoenix's tactics very well, Hermione. I've lost many good friends because of their reckless actions and not very many of them were openly supporters of me and my men. I have many allies who believe in what we're doing but don't show it, and don't technically support us, because of things like jobs. Why were you kept inside the headquarters for two years?"

"I don't know. I honestly have no fucking idea, but I was definitely trapped there – like I was some sort of criminal they had to keep imprisoned. It started off with excuses, just little things, and then it kept going on and on and I'd beg them to let me go outside and stand in the yard but they refused."

Tom knew exactly why they'd kept her indoors: they didn't want him to get his hands on her. They sat in silence for a few moments and Hermione had to wonder if Tom was going to tell her about the prophecy or not. If he didn't then he'd be a liar just like everyone fucking else, and being lied to and manipulated was not something she was interested in.

"I have my own theories about your treatment, of course. I think they had you guarded so you wouldn't be out in the open – they've always known I've wanted you on our side and did everything in their power to keep you from being found. My younger men have been looking for you almost since the moment they graduated and never saw any evidence of your existence until they found you in that forest. I think Dumbledore is scared of your power, Miss. Granger, and I think he was a fool to not utilize it properly; keeping you shut up in a safe house without allowing you to go outside or join in on any raids? What a mistake."

Hermione wasn't sure how to reply to that so she stayed quiet and stared at the man before her unflinchingly instead, wondering if he was going to tell her the truth or not. That would be the deciding factor in her future.

"There's a prophecy, Miss. Granger," Tom said after another moment of silence – Hermione's breath caught in her chest, shocked that he was telling her about it. Almost disgusted by the fact that Tom Riddle was already more truthful with her than Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore had been over the last few years.

"I don't remember it word for word, it has been so long since I've listened to it, but it basically states that a young Muggleborn witch who was exceedingly smart and powerful and was a member of the light would be the one to help me win this war. I knew about you from a few of my younger members and how frustrated they were with you in school because you were a Muggleborn and beat them all, constantly. It's said that you'll join my ranks and your power will be cultivated and honed until you're able to show everyone who betrayed you what they missed out on. What they did. Of course I always assumed it was you, but now that the top members of the Order have betrayed you… well it only fits."

"Did you know that I don't believe in Divination?" Hermione asked, a wry smile playing on her lips.

"I did, actually," Tom answered with a small chuckle. "Draco made sure to tell everyone how you stormed out of the class sometime around Easter when you were younger. I remember thinking when he told me how wonderful it would be to have a young woman with so much backbone on our side."

Hermione's smile turned slightly embarrassed, glad someone was seeing her as more than just a poor little victim – someone strong enough to fight for herself.

"Knowing that you don't believe it doesn't change my opinion about it, though. I'm one hundred percent sure that the prophecy is about you, and I'd really love to have you on our side."

"Tom," Hermione started, taking a deep breath because she really felt like she was pushing her luck, "do you honestly believe I would have come to speak with you if I wasn't going to join you? I would have shimmied out a window somewhere and been as far away as possible right now if I wasn't planning on joining the Death Eaters."

"There's something I feel like I should inform you about before you make the decision," Tom said, impressed with the gall of this girl. She lifted an eyebrow at him, but didn't open her mouth. "I want you to marry Draco Malfoy before the New Year."

Hermione suddenly broke into a coughing fit.

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