DISCLAIMER: Still can't claim that I own it...

All hail my wonderful beta: Curse Weaver (aka my adopt-a-mummy)...

Four

Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. --James Baldwin

The rich smell of old leather lingered in the air as Hermione stood in the middle of the bookstore in Diagon Alley. She smiled as she closed her eyes, allowing the aroma to wrap around her, filling her senses.

She was supposed to be shopping to finish stocking her flat…and yet as soon as she saw the bookstore, she found she couldn't ignore the persistent call. And so she had gone in just to browse around, or that is what she kept telling herself.

She felt people brushing past her and she opened her eyes, taking in the scene around her. She moved forward, heading down the first aisle of books. She extended her arm and allowed her fingertips to brush along the rough spines. Her books…her precious books… her one connection to her own time.

She paused at the end to observe the titles scripted on the spines. She shook her head- all the books were on heroic tales of various wizards- and rounded the corner only to run into someone.

"Oomph," she said as she bounced off the body. "I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright," came a warm, husky voice as the man reached out to steady her.

She looked up and promptly gasped. The man standing in front of her could have been Sirius' twin. Dark black hair gracefully around a sculpted face while rich grey eyes stared intensely at her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, bending down slightly so he could stare straight into her eyes, "but do I know you?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "No, sorry." She drew in a deep breath and said, "You just remind me of someone I used to know." She took a step back. "Again, I'm sorry that I bumped into you. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

As she went to back away, realizing that she was babbling, his hand shot out to grasp her arm. "Whoa, hold up there for a minute, lovey." He smiled down at her. "Now, seeing as you bumped into me, you could tell me your name."

Her eyes scanned him. Couldn't hurt, could it? After all, the future Dark Lord was her next door neighbour. "Hermione Granger."

His smile brightened. "A pretty name for a pretty lady," he drawled in a husky tone. He picked up one of her hands and, bowing over it, pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Name's Cygnus Black, but everyone calls me Cy." He grinned roguishly. "Cygnus is a bit of a mouthful."

She laughed. "That's true I guess. Cy it is then." She turned to look at the books and then back at him, brow raised. "You're interested in Herbology?"

He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms. "And if I am?"

She shrugged dispassionately. "Nothing, you just don't strike me as a Herbology type of man."

His laughter was rich, though she conceded that it didn't hold the same power as Tom's. "I'm glad that I don't look like a 'Herbology type of man,'" he said. "Actually, I need a book to help me with my studies."

"Oh?"

"I'm trying to go into a particular branch of the medical field," he informed her. "At the moment we're studying the different effects plants have on injuries and trying to see whether certain plants work better than others in healing." He grinned broadly. "It's fascinating really."

"I can imagine." She turned to the bookshelf and scanned it quickly. Her hand shot out as she plucked a book from the shelf. "Here, this should contain some useful information. The section on the various uses of belladonna is particularly interesting, but you might want to pay attention to the sections on thyme and wolfsbane."

His brows shot up. "You study Herbology?"

She grinned and started to walk away. Like Tom, he followed close behind her, watching her. "I study many things. I find knowledge to be extremely useful."

"Too true," he said as he watched her scan the shelves, looking for a book. "So, what exactly do you do? You're not a researcher, are you?"

She gave off a bitter laugh. "That's not the title of the job but it might as well be. I work for the Ministry and basically I do anything they can't or are just too lazy to do."

"Interesting job description," he commented jokingly, "catering to a bunch of bumbling fools."

Hermione turned to him with a wicked smile. "I know, isn't it?"

She extracted a book from the shelf and examined it while he continued to study her. "You know, you don't look that old and yet I'm sure I haven't seen you before. I would have remembered it if I had. Did you go to Hogwarts?"

She shoved the book back into its place and grabbed another one. "Actually, no. I came from far away and I doubt I'll ever go back." She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. "If you don't mind, I don't like to talk about it."

He stared at her and then nodded. "Alright."

She clapped her hand on the book in decision. "I think I'll purchase this one."

He plucked the book from her hands and stared at the cover. "Magical Properties of the Soul," he read aloud. "Huh, very interesting…and an odd choice." He glanced up at her. "For an assignment?"

"Light reading," she corrected with a slight smile.

His brow quirked again. "Alright then," he drawled slowly with a small chuckle. She recognized the look on his face as one Harry and Ron usually wore when laughing at her studious habits. He winked at her roguishly and stalked away, taking her book with him.

"Hey!" she cried, hurrying after him. "I need my book so that I can pay for it!" She tried to snatch the book back from him but he easily prevented her from doing so. "Come on, Cy, I need to finish shopping for my flat."

"Then quit hindering me and let me pay for it," he told her as he placed the two books on the checkout counter. "My treat. Think of it as sort of a 'welcome to the neighbourhood' sort of gift."

She sighed dramatically and attempted to glare at him. "You're impossible."

He sent her a impish grin. "I've been told that once or twice."

He paid for her book and then refused to give it back to her. He insisted on joining her on her shopping excursion and secretly she was glad for the company. She hated shopping with a passion so company was appreciated.

She took his arm without thinking when he offered it, subconsciously leaning towards her. He reminded her of Sirius and, to her, Sirius represented safety. She needed that small ounce of safety, she thirsted for it.

They were about to enter a store with odd knickknacks when Hermione looked up and met a pair of dark green eyes. She froze, causing Cy to stumble slightly. For some reason, she felt a twinge of regret and guilt.

"Hermione," he greeted and then, "Cygnus." His eyes were narrowed on the other man.

Cy pulled away from her suddenly and she saw him fumbling for a way to greet Tom. Finally, she watched as he merely nodded his head in acknowledgement. She guessed that Tom was already going by the title of Lord Voldemort.

Tom turned back to her and smiled. "Shopping?"

"You're the one that pointed out that I only had two boxes, I thought I should obtain some more possessions before you start complaining about my flat being bare." She stared at him steadily, daring him to challenge her.

He merely smirked. "You're flat is homely. Besides, after seeing your talent, I wouldn't dare to challenge you." It wasn't his choice of words that caused her to shiver, it was the way he said it.

His gaze then shifted to Cy. "Your oldest brother requires your assistance. I believe he is with Abraxas at the Hog's Head waiting for you. I would hurry along if I were you."

Cy glanced at her quickly before walking off without even saying goodbye. She felt betrayed in a way, but strangely she also felt relieved that he had gone. The confused her more than anything.

She looked at Tom, an angry glare on her face. "Hello Tom," she bit out harshly, crossing her arms over her chest.

He smiled at her pleasantly even though she was glaring at him heatedly. "Hello, Hermione, fancy seeing you here, eh? You said you were shopping for your flat? Well, why don't I join you?"

She brushed past him and into the store while mumbling, "Yes, why don't you," in a sarcastic tone. She knew he'd follow her so she held the door open for him. "What do you want, Tom?" she asked as she walked further into the store and over to a display counter.

"I thought that was rather obvious." He was close to her- so very, very close. He leaned down so close to her that his chest was almost touching her back and whispered, "I want to be your friend."

Hermione looked at him coolly over her shoulder, her eyes locking with his. "I doubt that's all you want, Tom." She turned as he placed his arms on either side of her. "So, why don't you tell me what you really want?"

His eyes took their good old time in surveying her face. "Why don't you tell me what you want, Hermione. You're the one that has all the secrets. So tell me, what do you want?"

She leaned closer to him. "I want a bit of peace for once. I want to not have to worry about anything." She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. "Your turn."

He smirked. "I want you."

o!o

A small crack was the only sign that the Horcrux was destroyed. Hermione stared at the small object in front of her and a smile appeared on her face. Two down, five more to go.

She drew the hood back over her head as she tucked her wand into her robes. She knew of three of them, though she was unsure of the locations. The last two would need a bit of research.

She turned to exit the cave when she got the feeling that she was no longer alone. She quickly moved to the walls and into the shadows. She strained her ears for any sound of intruders. She didn't have to wait long.

"I still don't understand why we're wasting our time here."

"Because our lord wants us to and we shouldn't disobey him."

"But why are we here?"

"Because we were told to be here. Satisfied?"

"No."

"I swear, Maciner, you're dumber than a box of rocks."

"Sorry, Nicholas."

"Just shut up and come on. Something triggered the wards, we best find out what it was."

Hermione pressed herself closer to the wall. The two men were Maciner Goyle and Nicholas Crabbe. They were both very deep in the Dark Arts from what she gathered.

They were both very large men, though not exactly the brightest, and could do a real number on her if they really wanted to. So, she best not get caught.

As they made their way towards her, she desperately sought to sink further into the shadows. She moved her hand inside her robe to grab her wand in case she needed it. She prayed that she wouldn't but one never knew what might happen.

As soon as they passed by her, she let out the breath she had been holding and quietly slipped back out of the cave. Not taking any chances, she whispered an illusion charm as she entered the light. She needed to get a little ways away before she could apparate without being detected.

She ran harder than she ever had before and only when she was safely back in her flat did she allow herself to relax. That was too close.

o!o

The first public Death Eater attack was recorded on August eighteenth in a village near Kent. Twelve muggles total were viciously murdered along with three wizards. The attack made headlines because no one was really sure what to make of the strange mark floating over the village.

But Hermione knew…and she also knew that in a roundabout way she was the cause of it. He had obviously discovered that one of his Horcruxes had been destroyed and had reacted to the news very violently indeed.

She didn't see Tom come in that night. She had admittedly sat by her door and listened for any sound that would alert her to his presence. She even sat outside in the hall on the stairs for a bit to see if he would come. Her waiting was fruitless.

She went to bed very late but still woke up early the next morning. She found herself out in the hall, listening for him. She surprised herself. There she was trying to destroy the pieces of his soul and yet she was concerned for his well-being.

She needed to get over this, she realized as she stood in the shower an hour later, letting the water cascade over her skin. She needed to remain aloof and continue to destroy his Horcruxes. Everything depended on this.

As she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, she was aware that there was someone else in her flat. She picked her wand up from the counter and quietly opened the bathroom door, peering around the room. Steam slowly slid past her, her wet hair plastered itself to her body.

Two arms shot out suddenly and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. She shrieked and discovered that her wand was no longer in her hand.

She fought against the arms imprisoning her and found herself hauled roughly against a strong chest. She looked up, a glare ready, and met dark green eyes. "Let go of me, Tom."

There was a wicked smirk on his face as he looked down at her. "No." One of his hands ran slowly up her back until it rested lightly at the top of the towel, his fingers teasing the bare skin of her upper back. "I find that I like this position quite a bit."

She could feel how much he liked the position; the evidence was jabbing her in the abdomen. She balled up her fist and hit him hard in the chest. His arms fell from her and she instantly backed away, her hands making sure that the towel didn't fall.

"What are you doing here, Tom?"

His eyes surveyed her as he slowly advanced on her. "I was trying to sleep last night but something kept plaguing me. You." He was directly in front of her now. "You," he repeated with definite emphasis on the word.

"Me?"

In all honesty, he was making her quite uneasy. The predatory glint in his eyes made her realize her precarious position. At the moment, she had no wand, no clothes, and she was backed in a corner. If she was a gambler, she wouldn't bet on herself at the moment.

"Yes, you." His hand shot out and he grabbed a stray tendril brushing against her cheek. "No one knows anything about you. I've been inquiring about you, you see. I was told that you simply showed up one day and asked for a job. You didn't provide any information, any background, or any references. So who are you, Hermione Granger, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm just a woman looking for a fresh start, Tom," she said, trying to edge past him. He braced his arms on either side of her, trapping her between the wall and his chest.

"A fresh start, eh?" he whispered softly, his breath tickling her skin as he leaned down closer to her. "What may I ask do you need a fresh start from?"

She did some quick calculations in her head as she stared steadily at him. "From death, Tom. I came from a place of death, destruction," she paused, "and war. Excuse me if I just wish to forget all of that."

His eyes softened slightly as he gazed down at her. Then, he said, "Death, destruction, and war is everywhere, Hermione, you can't escape that. Besides, after a while you become numb to it all."

"Maybe some people do," she snapped, "but I didn't. Everyday I had to wake up and wonder whether that would be my last day. Everyday I had to wonder whether my friends made it through the night. Everyday I had to question whether we actually had a chance of winning."

"Did you?"

Her eyes hardened on their own accord and she looked away from him. "I'm here all alone, what does that tell you?"

His face was in front of hers then, his lips hovering over hers. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you must move on with your life. You can't continue to mourn for them when they are gone. There is nothing you can do to save them now."

As she stared at him, she thought silently that she could…and would. The answer to it all was standing in front of her now. And yet there was something in his eyes that made her feel remorseful over what she was planning.

He was Tom, he was Voldemort, and yet they were two entirely different entities.

Looking away, she sighed. "Tom, I'm making a puddle on the floor. Let me go get changed and then we can talk."

She watched as different emotions played out across his face. "Tom," she repeated softly.

"No," he said suddenly and then his lips were there on hers, kissing her with wanton abandonment. She leaned into his kiss, meeting his tongue with the same ferocity and passion.

She broke away first as she felt his hands moving toward the knot of the towel. She tore herself out of his arms, turning away from him as colour flooded her cheeks.

"Hermione," he cajoled and it took all her willpower to walk back to the bathroom, using the door as a divider, a barrier, a protection from him.

A/N: So I had in some extra drama or else it would just be a plain old story... :-D...besides, what's a Harry Potter story without at least one sexy Black? Now, let's all celebrate my unemployment and the fact that I caught the oven on fire on my last day! WOOT! I am WalMart free!!!!!!!

...for now.

All my love!

MiZZ AmAyA