CHAPTER EIGHT
The three of them were only about half way to the limousine waiting outside when they heard fighting off in the background. But it didn't sound like gunfire—more like wand fire.
"Wizards, in the middle of the Vietnamese War?" Hermione asked as she tried to look behind her.
"Yes, my dear, I'm afraid so," said Tom as he, too, looked back, and took the opportunity to put a hand on the nape of his companion's neck to turn her away.
"COMSEC, we're too late," Bradford said into a strange-looking device on his wrist. "I'm going to try to get these two out of here unscathed, but our chances are pretty slim if our British connection knows he's here."
"Just what other explanation could there be?" said a man's voice. He sounded extremely upset.
"What are you talking about?" Tom demanded to know as the man practically shoved the two into the car. "Why are there wizards here, and where do you think you're taking us?"
"Quiet now, I need to tell you as much as I can before it's too late," said the man as the driver sped off away from the green, red and blue blasts of color. "Those wizards are looking for you, Tom, as you may well have guessed by now. I'm sure I don't have to go into a lot of detail when I say this, but after your time jump someone got ahold of some of your DNA and used some sort of regrowth spell, and your other self apparently can sense your presence. He's come to take you with him, to England, and it's almost certain he will."
"My—other self?" he gasped. "Bloody hell!"
"I only found out about this whole story recently, so you'll have to bear with me," he continued. "Apparently whoever grew the other you did an experiment with impregnating an American woman with your DNA as well, which resulted in the birth of a man now known as Ted Bundy. We don't know what significance there is to that as of yet, but we suspect he's going to be in need of watching."
"I'll say," Hermione interjected with a shocked expression on her face. Tom put his arm around her and pulled her closer, trying to comfort her. She didn't look very comforted, however, leading him to wonder just what she knew about this Ted bloke that she wasn't saying.
The car shook violently then, and came to a complete stop.
"Too late to tell you the rest, I'm afraid," Bradford said. "You're on your own from here on out."
"Thanks a lot," Tom grumbled as both the driver and the man who had just dropped the bomb made good their escape.
"Hermione, I need to tell you something," Tom began nervously. "It's about who we're about to get captured by—"
"Just kiss me quick, before he gets here," she pleaded. "I want to remember what you taste like."
"Too bad the blighter won't take a bit longer," he mentioned as he crushed her to him. "I want to remember what you taste like, too."
Hermione had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't talking about her lips just then—at least, not the ones he was currently kissing. His questing hands confirmed this as she moaned softly into his mouth. It was amazing just how much a person could be aroused in just a matter of seconds.
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The two of them broke apart when they heard the driver's door and one of the back doors open. A man who looked like an older version of Tom stepped in and sat across from them in the other seat of the limousine. He barely glanced at Hermione, and then looked at his younger self instead.
"Hello, Tom," said the younger man with a grim smile. "I didn't expect to have the pleasure of meeting myself here."
"No, I suppose you wouldn't," he agreed. "No one calls me by that name anymore. It's sort of too personal for the man I have become. You do know who I have become, do you not?"
"Unfortunately, no," Tom mentioned. "I didn't even know you existed until about two minutes ago."
"You mean you couldn't feel me, as I have felt you?" he inquired. "Pity."
"My mind has been on—other things," he excused himself, and his eyes barely flickered in Hermione's direction.
"I can see why," he said appreciatively as he, too, looked at the pretty blonde who had just been sucking face with the youngster. "Tell, me, Tom, has it occurred to you that this would be quite an interesting—diversion, if we should all three—"
"Don't finish that filthy thought, or I swear I'll muss up that pretty face I know you like so well,"said Tom on a snarl.
"Only think of this," he added lasciviously. "If she were to get pregnant, there would be no way of knowing which one of us had done the deed." He seemed to be very amused to have thought of this, if his evil smirk was any indicator.
Hermione moved to claw his eyes out, but Tom held her back. "Don't, Hermione. You have no idea who you are dealing with here."
"Well, at least I know it's not Ted Bundy," she blurted out furiously.
"Hey, whoever that bloke is, I had no way of knowing about it, so don't go blaming me," Tom said irritably. "I can only account for things I may have done up until the jump, not what anybody did to me or for me afterwards. I'm just saying."
Peals of laughter echoed through the cab as the older Tom took in this exchange. "Don't let him fool you, my sweet. Ol' Tom here was no angel, even then."
"He already told me that," she said, almost triumphantly.
"Driver, you know what to do," Tom said to the man in the front seat, which brought him to Hermione's attention.
"Yes, my Lord."
"Professor Snape?" she gasped as she stared at him. "What are you doing here?"
"I got sucked back here, too, no thanks to you," he commented in his customary sneer. "The next time you want to play with your little toys, Granger, I suggest you do it away from me."
"This is just getting too weird," Hermione complained. "So then, if you're with him, and he's your Lord, this must be—"
"Lord Voldemort, at your service, my lady," he said with an almost playful grin.
"Just keep your hands off that lady," Tom growled as he saw him extend a hand in her direction. "I saw her first."
"Are you so certain?" Voldemort asked him cryptically.
"Then let me rephrase that, in words even an imbecile can understand," said Tom, emphasizing each word. "I saw this version of her first, and I'm not bloody well going to share."
"Ok, I'm beginning to think I'm just having a nightmare, and I sure as hell wish I'd wake up now," said Hermione as she moved to grab the door handle and leave the whole mess behind.
"Hermione, don't!" both Toms shouted at the same time, and interestingly enough, with equal degrees of concern.
"My God, I need some air," she practically screamed as she fiddled with the knob to open the window, at the very least. "You people are driving me crazy!"
"It's all right, sweetie, just calm down," Tom—her Tom—said softly as he rubbed her back. "We'll sort all of this out, won't we, men?"
"Of course we will," they both agreed.
Hermione passed out against the open window.
