Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Disney's Beauty and the beast – this was written just for fun, and no profit is being made.

AN: Thank you so much for the love! I am really enjoying this story, and I particularly liked this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do! xo

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The next morning, Hermione woke feeling conflicted, more so then she cared to admit. She climbed out of bed and stretched, then took a long soak in the bath. No matter how much she tried to ignore it, there was a seed that had been planted that had been growing steadily since that first morning on his terrace that she could no longer ignore; doubt. There were things she had always known that she could have identified as fact; for instance she had known, unequivocally, since her first year at Hogwarts when she had befriended the boy who lived, that Lord Voldemort was the epitome of evil. She knew unquestioningly that he was her enemy. She had known that her loyalty to Harry, and the Order would be unwavering. However, She now faced the realization that there was so much more to the man she had counted as her enemy, and that the world couldn't simply be painted in black and white; there was a whole lot of gray in there too. Of course Voldemort had done unspeakable things, that was never something she questioned, but his motivation was not quite as simple as she had previously believed, and it seemed, that he was actively trying to undo some of that damage by attempting to restore his soul. All of these thoughts swirled through her turbulent mind, and she tried to reduce it all down to one simple question; could she still fight alongside Harry and watch as he attempted to kill the man she had only recently come to know?

The painful clench in her chest at the thought was all the answer she needed. She knew now, that evil came in many forms, but evil did not save your life. Your enemy does not save your life, and the realization that hurt the most though, was that her loyalty was now divided. Just as she felt the moral obligation to help Harry do what was right, she also now felt morally obligated to help this man, her supposed enemy, restore his damaged soul. Restoring this broken man's soul brought the promise of redemption, remorse, and a return to humanity; how could that not also be considered doing what was right?

She sighed heavily, and shook herself from her thoughts, and climbed from the quickly cooling bathwater. She made her way back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of black pants and a cashmere sweater, then ate the breakfast Satine had delivered while she bathed. After she finished eating, she stowed her wand and headed to the laboratory. She had not seen Voldemort since the previous night, and for that, she was a tad grateful. When she thought about how her skin had tingled as his hand had came to rest on the small of her back as they danced, or how there was a nervous fluttering in her stomach as he had gazed at her so intensely, she wasn't ready to analyze what that meant.

As she entered the lab, the potions were still simmering under her perfectly executed stasis charm, and to her surprise there was a piece of parchment awaiting her at her workstation; her stomach did a nervous flip flop as she read it, and she inwardly cursed herself:

Hermione,

I regret that I will be unable to join you in the lab today; however I am very much looking forward to discussing your results later this evening. I am confident that your endeavors will be successful, as your methodology is impeccable and decidedly not shoddy.

Until then,
~Tom

Hermione shook her head and laughed to herself. Had he just made a joke? Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his signature, written in his unique spiky scrawl; he had signed the letter 'Tom'. Not The Dark Lord, not Lord Voldemort, just Tom. She knew the only person who had dared call him that was dead; Albus Dumbledore. She couldn't help the questions that flooded her mind over a simple signature. Why would he address himself to her in that way? Was he trying to remind her of his humanity? She filed the questions away in her ever growing list of things she would never understand about this man.

She removed the stasis charm on the potions one by one and finished the brewing process for each one individually and carefully labeled and bottled the result of each batch. She made some more notes on the properties of each, such as final shade of the brewed potion, whether or not there was visible steam, and any other qualities she could observe such as luminescence, scent, viscosity, and transparency. After cleaning her workstation and placing the bottled potions in the cabinet so that he could test them later, she headed back to her room to continue reading the book she had started a few nights before. As she walked down the hall, she head hushed voices coming from a closed door, and her heart sped up when she recognized the unmistakable lilt of Lucius Malfoy's voice. She cast a disillusionment charm on herself non-verbally, and pressed herself against the wall just outside of the door to hear the conversation that was taking place inside:

"My Lord, Gringott's has been compromised; it was Potter. He's broken into the Lestrange's vault."

"And what exactly was it that was taken?" Voldemort asked in a deadly quiet voice.

"The Cup, My Lord. Hufflepuff's cup." Lucius answered, his voice now tinged with pain.

"Find him. Track. Him. Down. " Voldemort whispered venomously

"Yes, My Lord." Lucius answered

"And what of the Elder Wand? " He asked harshly

"It has been discovered that the Elder Wand had last given its allegiance to Albus Dumbledore." Lucius answered

Hermione felt her stomach bottom out. He was going after the wand.

"I require that wand. Once I have it, I can finish this once and for all." Voldemort said with an air of finality that sent a dagger straight into Hermione's heart.

She quickly made her way back to her room, ending the disillusionment spell she had been under. Her heart was beating a staccato in her chest, and she felt sick to her stomach. How could he look at her as he had, and singed his letter 'Tom' while still moving forward with his plans to murder her best friend? She felt a rush of shame wash over her, almost suffocating her with its reminders of how she had started to believe his lies despite knowing what he was; he was a monster. He was a beast.

She clawed desperately at the pearls that hung around her neck; where they had once felt like the promise of something more, now they felt like a noose. She was a means to an end, just as Pandora had been. Pandora had loved him, and there was no mistaking his cold indifference when he spoke of it. The pearls heldfast around her neck, despite her desperate attempts to remove them, and she dropped to her knees clutching them tightly as the sobs wracked her body. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she drew in a ragged breath, and finally managed to pull herself into the bathroom and clean herself up. Voldemort would summon her to discuss the potions. The thought of his deception made her stomach clench painfully, before she forced her emotions back into a carefully constructed mask.

It was a few hours later that Satine arrived with his summons. Hermione kept her face stoic as she followed Satine to the laboratory where he was already holding up the bottled potions and inspecting them with a critical eye. When she entered the room, he knew immediately that something was wrong. She wore the same defeated expression she had worn the day he cruciated her on his dining room floor. He felt an ache in is chest, as he looked into her eyes and found that the passion he had come to see burning within their depths was now cold.

"Satine, Leave us." He commanded.

The small witch nodded and turned sharply on her heel, leaving Hermione standing there fuming silently.

"What is the problem?" he asked brusquely, feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of even having such a conversation.

"Why should anything be wrong? I've brewed your potion, as requested. I've served my purpose, have I not?" Hermione shot back sarcastically, unable to keep the edge of anger and pain from her voice. He may be able to effectively hide his emotions, if he even had any at all, but she could not.

"I don't care for your tone." He said narrowing his eyes at her and placing his hands on the workstation on front of him.

"Well, I am your prisoner, so I expect you can you can force me to do as you will." Hermione spat.

"Hermione…"

"No. You don't get to call me that. You lied to me! You made me believe that you…"She began before he cut her off sharply.

"That I what? That I valued your intelligence? That I wanted…" he trailed off and closed his eyes momentarily before fixing his gaze on her once again, "I never lied to you."

Hermione felt unshed tears well in her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back.

"I know that you are going after the Elder Wand." She said brazenly. She knew she ran an extremely high risk of getting herself killed, but she needed to hear him say it with his own mouth.

"Hermione, this is far more complicated that you realize." He said looking away from her.

"You don't deny it." Hermione said quietly, and he felt another stab in his chest at the tone of her voice.

"It is the only way." He said taking a step towards her

"Of course it is, you will stop at nothing-"

"No." he shouted causing her to look up at him sharply in confusion.

"This course of events was set in motion a long time ago. I never asked for this. Power, yes. Influence, absolutely. A Prophecy? No. I never asked for that." He said softly.

Hermione flinched as if he'd slapped her. She had never thought about the implications that the prophecy had on both him and Harry. Yes, he had done terrible things, but the prophecy placed him against Harry forcing them into this deadly association. Neither can live while the other survives.

"Ever since that prophecy was made, I did what I had to do to ensure my own survival. It was nothing personal." He said as if that explained everything.

Hermione felt her anger flare in her chest once more

"How can you say that? Of course it was personal! You murdered Harry's parents and tried to murder him as an infant. I assure you, that to him, it was very personal!" She yelled, not caring if he cursed her. She was too far gone now to stop.

"It was him or me. I chose me, and I'm not sorry for that." He spat venomously.

Hermione shook her head and laughed bitterly, "Of course you're not. You can't feel remorse, you don't care about anything at all!" she shouted

"I care for you!" he roared.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply.

As he realized what he had just said, he closed his eyes and turned his face away from her.

Her voice was so quiet when she finally spoke;

"Then let me go." She whispered.

She held her breath, her heart beating so loudly that she thought he would hear it.

He didn't answer right away, and instead turned his hand over, and in it he held a small silver antique hand mirror. He handed it to her, and she took it from him, her brows furrowed in confusion. She noticed there was a small shard missing,

This mirror is charmed. I want you to keep it with you. If you are in trouble, I can find you." He said

"What are you saying?" she asked, feeling hope flare in her chest

"I release you." He said quietly, and she felt the tingle of his magic run over her skin.

She stood staring at him in shock. He was letting her go? Just like that? She reached up to remove the pearls from her neck when he moved over to her placing his hand gently on hers to still her movement.

"I wish for you to keep them."

Hermione nodded, there were a million things she wanted to say, but she couldn't manage a single one. With a last look at him, she closed her eyes and disapparated with a crack.