AN: Yay, update. No time for good editing, wanted to put this up though. Will try to get back to it ASAP.

Discalimer: I do not, repeat, not, own HP.  glad to clear that up lol.

I Prefer Lord

Chapter 8

Hermione sighed leaning all the way back into the couch's deep downy cushions. She wished she could just sink into them and escape Ginny's piercing gaze.

"What do you want to know?" she tried to appear as calm as possible. She could imagine the things Ginny would want to know and she had just barely managed to convince herself the past month or so since the falling out with the Order had been reality.

"First off." Ginny leaned forward, the exhaustion painted on her face made her look so fragile, Hermione thought. She knew she wouldn't be able to lie to Ginny, legimens or not, she had been such a good friend to her through all of this. "Why did you contact him?"

"I didn't. He contacted me." Hermione remembered Ginny visiting her before she went to meet Voldemort. "That day you came to me when I was in the bath, and I seemed distracted, when you told me to be careful. I had received a letter from him asking me to meet him, that he had a proposition." Ginny looked incredulous but nodded Hermione on, seemingly speechless. "Well he offered me an apprenticeship sort of. It's not war related in the least bit. It's really rather fascinating stuff, you know the sort of thing I dreamed about doing when I graduated."

"Hermione, I need to be frank with you. Nothing he does, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, is NOT related to the war." Ginny rubbed her eyes with her thumb and index finger, her brow furrowing. "Now I can't really share any specific information with you, because he would know, but he has numerous side-projects. All of which could potentially be fascinating and intriguing for someone like you to work on, but they all have sinister ends, and so do his researcher "friends".

Hermione blanched. "Well I don't think this is like any of that. He doesn't share this project with Death Eaters." Ginny frowned.

"Hermione I must warn you, if you are found to be a member of any of the war projects, the Order will put money on your head. The wizards that participate in his experiments are enemies of the Order. Worse than that, he will kill you when you finish, you can bet on that. He's very secretive, he can't have anyone else knowing important classified information, you could betray, you've done it once already.

"I knew the risks Ginny." Hermione gazed past her out the window. "Besides I have the feeling that I don't have many options left in the wizarding world. Sure I could go live as a muggle, but…I never fit in there, this is my home. And if I go down in history books as a no good double crossing, depraved, lunatic, who did brilliant research and was subsequently murdered by the Dark Lord Voldemort, so be it."

"You are being ridiculous. A few options are closed for you, yes. You won't teach at Hogwarts or make it as an Auror. You are hardly the first prominent member of society to be linked to the Dark Lord. You are gambling with your life already, and your life is valuable Hermione. Don't doubt that for a moment." Ginny pulled up her sleeves showing her dark mark opposite her phoenix tattoo. "Don't you see Hermione the lines between good and evil have become so thin now it's all gray, you can slip through the gray, you can start over." Tears welled in Ginny's eyes. "It's not too late for you." Hermione embraced her tightly.

"It's not too late for you Ginny. You have a good hear. You know what's right for you. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." She let her go. "As for me and my heart, well, all I know is I'm sick of barely living, I feel like I have some purpose, I feel genuine excitement, and I'm not ready to let go of it. I'd rather die than go back to living like a zombie."

They continued to talk for a while then went to share an awkward, yet somehow pleasant dinner. Malfoy regarded her suspiciously the entire time, but said nothing to the effect, he didn't say much at all really, which in Hermione's book was a first. They exchanged goodbyes and Ginny pleaded with her once more to be careful She gave her as much assurance as she could manage.

Hermione attempted to apparate home only to wind up five or six blocks away. She walked briskly, feeling odd chills, likely from her run in with Harry. She hardly noticed her little apartment, it seemingly melded between the neighboring buildings, she wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't been looking for it. As she walked through her door she felt something akin to fuzzy electricity break apart as she crossed, she saw a faint shimmer meld back into a solid wall as she turned to examine the entryway. A letter was pinned by a large plastic Garfield magnet Ron had got her saying it reminded him of Crookshanks.

H,

Decided to upgrade your security after your little incident. If you want to apparate you need to imagine the inside of you bedroom closet. It's the only apparate- safe zone. Also if you feel the need to bring in any guests you'll have to set a safe word for entry, I left instructions on how to set this, it could be quite painful for anyone besides you who decides to enter.

-V

It had been over a month since she returned home. She had no communications from Voldemort or anyone from her old life at all. Her days had started to fall into a pattern. She woke up around eight in the morning and went straight out for a run. She ran for an hour or so, listening to her IPod, letting the fuzz of sleep clear from her mind. She showered upon return, set on the pot of coffee and cracked open a book with the morning news as background noise. This morning the ladies on the morning show were discussing their favorite holiday cookies and treats. Hermione sipped her coffee turning back to her book, Various Theories on the Origin of the Arcane by Theodorus Gilberstein. It was mostly theories she had already studied, but he had several interesting and at moments, rather inhuman experiments on squibs that made their way into the book. The friendly holiday story-sharing was interrupted by an emergency new bulletin. King's Cross was burning, raging in flames, people ran screaming, ordinary holiday travel suddenly a national tragedy. Hermione knew in her heart what was behind this before anything else had to be said. The commentator on the screen, a graying, pudgy man's face was beet red, his eyes protruding like a drowning fish garbled out panicked near sentences, "Green lights flashing, hooded men, people dropping like flies." Without a second thought at the fact that she had on underwear and a bathrobe and sopping wet hair, Hermione jumped up, apparating into the middle of the action.

Sure enough an all out battle, at the scope of nothing she had ever seen raged between Death Eaters, the Order, Aurors, and muggle police and now arriving military. Fire was beginning to consume outlying buildings, smoke was thick and choking. In the midst of the heaviest fighting Hermione saw Remus Lupin take out a large Death Eater, likely Goyle. Then within seconds the scene changed, his pupils dilated rapidly and a green glow engulfed him. He collapsed and in his wake she saw him standing there. His face was human, no not human, more than human, too perfectly crafted, as if he modeled the humanness off Da Vinci's paintings of the divine. He looked like a god. He stood tall and not frail and bent as he had appeared before, but strong and lithe. His robes billowed. She saw a curl of jet peek from his hood. His eyes glowed demon red. He smiled, pristine white teeth her parents would approve of. She drew her wand without a thought and screamed, "Avada Kedav…" He disarmed and stunned her with ease.

"Don't be a fool girl. I thought we had a good thing going." He sauntered towards her, battle raging around him, seemingly unfazed by the action. "Now I'm in a forgiving mood, for some odd reason, so I'm going to send you home and give you some time to think of your actions and give you an opportunity to apologize." He bent down and kissed the edge of her mouth slowly, his eyes glowing even brighter. "Really I'm doing you a favor; I can only imagine what things the others would do to you if they saw you in this condition. Unless of course you're still looking to get laid." He smirked as her eyes filled with horror. "No, I suppose I'll do my daily act of charity. Do dry your hair once the stun wears off. You'll catch a cold." He laughed and Hermione felt the sensation of apparating and opened her eyes to find herself in her closet.

It took hours for the spell to wear off, Hermione laid there crying silently. She couldn't make out the words on the television. Finally once it did she ran, falling several times, her legs wobbling like a new born fowl. The television showed the remains of King Cross, a victim of terrorism, apparently the green light beams were a new neuro-weapon that instantly and painlessly killed, at least that was theorized. No suspects were being named at the moment and UN conferences were being scheduled. She walked to the cabinet and took out a bottle of vodka she dumped a glass three quarters way full and pounded it like a racer drinks water crossing the finish. She gagged forcing her mouth to stay closed. She saw Remus dying in her mind, felt Voldemort's lips against hers, saw his face, beautiful, haunting. She went to the couch, turned off the television, and waited for sleep to overtake her.

She was awoken far too early by the sound of someone in her kitchen digging through her refrigerator. She jumped up fumbling for her wand in the blankets. Her legs got caught and she tripped falling flat on her face. She heard a cold, bemused voice from the kitchen, "Go put some clothes on you lush."

"Get out of here now!" she screamed. Her voice sounded foreign to her, warped by the heavy, heavy veil of alcohol, her goal was to numb her brain, and apparently it had been a success. She walked into her room and slammed the door. It was reopened a few minutes later and reclosed immediately.

"Really you need to cover yourself Hermione. Not that I would ever desire to violate your filthy mudblood body. But it's a bit….distracting; I need to discuss something important with you." She stood up laughing, hysterically, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh that's rich." She fell to the ground rolling.

"Hermione, quickly, it's urgent. I need you to compose yourself" he sighed. "It's too bad there's no scourgify for the liver." He pounded the door. "Hurry up woman, I'm serious."

She continued laughing. "This is the strangest dream I've ever had. The longest, strangest dream in history." She started to hiccup and the contents of her stomach made their way half up her throat. She threw the door open running to the toilet, not bother to close the door. From the hallway she distinctly heard gagging followed by the volume on the television being cranked up. Her stomach finally a little settled she got up and brushed her teeth sloppily, still extremely intoxicated. She walked out to the living room to find Voldemort sitting on her couch, pale skin tinged green. He looked slowly at her, seemingly nervous. He quickly averted his eyes and threw her a blanket.

"Cover yourself." He said emotionlessly.

"No." she walked to the fridge and took out some left over macaroni and cheese, perfect drunk food. She didn't bother to heat it.

"You have no food." He said conversationally, the television was off now but he stared at it anyway.

"You mean I have no food youshlike." She slurred. "Besides I thought snake men don't need food."

"Do I look like a snake still Hermione?" he said evenly.

She turned around slowly finally taking time to absorb his appearance fully, he looked young, too young for his age, yet she was certain it was not a cosmetic charm. "How did you do it?" she asked curiously, the fuzz of alcohol still blocking recent events from hitting her, leaving her completely utterly in the moment, with no context of anything else.

"I don't know. That's the problem. I've been doing so many cosmetic experiments, none very successful, effective only for hours usually, then reverting" he took a deep breath. "Then to my astonishment I began to sleep, really sleep, for hours."

"You didn't sleep before?" she asked a little astonished in between bites of Mac and cheese.

"Not for years and years. Long enough that I hadn't remembered that fuzzy, refreshed feeling of waking up. And worse I awoke to a sound I hadn't heard since my mid-twenties. My stomach growling."

"The cosmetic spells shouldn't have affected anything like that though. It doesn't make sense."

"Really?" he growled. "I hadn't made that obvious observation."

"Stop being a grouchy baby." She mumbled standing up to put her dish in the sink. She washed her dish. And put on a new pot of coffee. She yelped turning around to see him sitting on her counter watching her closely. Slowly a memory from early crept back, his lips soft as silk against hers. Suddenly his adamancy of her being dressed made sense, she was aware from various sources the Dark Lord was asexual not experience attraction to the most desirable of human companions, love was nothing more than a tool for manipulation to him. "So you're hungry in more than one way hmm?"

His brow furrowed, "This isn't a joke, nor is it specifically your concern, however if you wouldn't mind." He averted his eyes again and she walked out slowly aware of his eyes, swaying her hips in a way she imagined looked sexy stopping to bend down and pick up the blanket and place it back on the couch. She stifled a giggle when she got into her bedroom. Her head was spinning now, the vodka still strong in her blood, more now that she was waking up a bit. She grabbed a cotton nightgown and tossed it on.

She walked back into the kitchen with a smug smile. "Better?"

He nodded slightly pouring himself a cup of coffee. "What I need from you is some theories, I have here the list of spells and charms I have tried on myself in the past year. As well as a brief outline of the major alterations I have made to myself throughout the years. These are very, very, very sensitive materials. I will stay here until you are done with them, since I cannot trust you not to pass them on, and if you decide to speak of any of this I will kill you."

"This is not what I signed up for." She said shaking her head. "I don't care if you're becoming human. So what you'll die easier?" she shrugged.

"Why don't you just look at the notes, I know you're curious." He hinted.

"No. You're wrong." She poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Please Hermione; I need to figure this out. It's not just becoming human, I'm getting younger. I'm…" he paused.

"What?" she raised an eyebrow.

"This does not leave her lips. Ever. Do not think it after I tell you. I will kill your parents, friends, cousins, friends' family, family's friends, everyone who ever meant anything to you." She laughed a bit. "What about that was funny?" he said sharply.

"You almost look cute when you try to be menacing." She giggled swaying on her chair.

"Your still too drunk for this conversation obviously." He sipped his coffee and pushed the notes towards her.

"So what was it?" she drawled. "You piqued my curiosity with all your death talk. What's so serious?"

"I'm…losing….memories. Knowledge, I keep rereading journals trying to remember things but its slipping away like sand."

"And yet you remember me." She furrowed her brow in concentration.

"Yes, and I don't remember some of my apparently closest Death Eaters. And don't mistake me, I don't know who you are, but I know that I know you."

"You called me a mudblood earlier." She stated, "Obviously you remember some things."

"No, you live in an apartment full of muggle things. It's quite obvious."

"Do you know who Harry is?" she asked curiously.

"Through books, hazes of memories, but no note really. I know he destroyed me nearly."

She nodded. "This is for real…" she took a long drink of coffee, "So what do you want to stay here while we figure this out?" He looked around in disgust.

"No, I thought we could stay in some property I recently acquired." He looked at the counter for a moment as if trying to decide something. "I had a dream of you there, it felt important somehow."

"So you bought property because a dream?" she asked incredulous her mind starting to clear from the coffee.

"No I bought it because the location is all over my journals, so I assumed it was important. I was hoping once I took you there you could explain." He took her hand and she felt the familiar sensation of apparition.

"Rowena's hideout." Her face was filled by a broad smile. She saw Voldemort at a sink washing his hands obsessively.

"Getting off the filth?" she said sarcastically.

"Yes." He mumbled. "I'm pleased that you know the place though. It's reassuring to know I'm not completely crazy." He collapsed onto the couch and pulled off his shirt revealing hard white muscle, and bandages covering enormous oozing wounds.

Hermione began gagging feeling her stomach acid churn wildly. "Those are infected. Badly. Ughhh" she gagged searching for a glass of water.

"Traditional healing medicine does not work on me because of the alterations to my genetic makeup. But unfortunately my ability to regenerate is failing massively, and the spells I know to heal won't work, and I can't exactly ask a medical professional to check on me, not unless I kill them afterward."

"Because then they would know it's not just cosmetic changes to your body." She finished.

"Yes, so I'm in a predicament. I obviously need medical attention and cannot seek it. Imagine the headline, Dark Lord vanquished by minor infection." She gasped, "What?"

"You can die? But we thought…" her head spun.

"I don't know. I thought I couldn't. This is quickly becoming an issue though."

Hermione sat down in an elegant divan positioned near one of the many windows overlooking the cliffs. She read over the notes for a few minutes. "I don't know. I'll have to do much more research before I can come up with anything, but I'm intrigued. She sighed feeling inherently wrong for what she was about to do. "Accio first aid kit." It took a few moments for the kit to arrive, likely from a nearby tourist site.

"What are you doing with that?" he looked disgustedly. "Don't go using your barbaric muggle treatments on me."

"Oh yes, antiseptic and antibiotic ointment, absolutely barbaric." She put some of the hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball and took a deep breath concentrating intensely. Her wand was on the table so she knew he wouldn't expect it. "Petrificus Totalus" she whispered he didn't even hear since he was adamantly refusing to let her near him, that she would probably try leeches. She knew it worked though immediately.

"What is going on?" he hissed. She felt energy radiate from him, knowing he was preparing for some wandless magic of his own she quickly dabbed the solution on his wounds, she felt his muscles stiffen even more if possible and he whispered through his teeth, "I am going to destroy you."

"I know it burns. But it's the only way to get out the infection I know of without magic. She put gobs of antibiotic ointment onto the sterilized wounds. "Didn't you ever get hurt in the orphanage?"His eyes held unfathomable fury. "Bad topic." She began to wrap his wounds with fresh bandage and notice his fists clenched in tight balls. "Oh it wasn't that bad. You're going to thank me in a while; I'm probably saved your life." She laughed. Suddenly a hot jolt of energy emitted from his chest where she was touching him." Okay, finish it yourself you… jerk." She released the spell walking from the room into what she presumed by the closet full of clean woman's robes was hers.

Moments later she heard the door leading outside slam. She found the bathroom and got into the shower. She lost herself in the hot water for at least a half hour. She was starting to develop a nasty headache and getting sleepy. She thought about the earlier events of the day finally, reality seeping in. Once again she realized she had betrayed all that she stood for, and for what, intellectual curiosity. She wrapped a towel around her hair and put on a white bathrobe that hung in the bathroom closet. Opening the bathroom door her mind was distracted for a second by the most appetizing smell in the world. Fresh, hot Chinese food, perfect cure for her hangover.

Voldemort sat on chair out on the balcony looking out into the cliffs. He still was shirtless; he had finished wrapping the bandages himself. His hair was just a little curly, not thick, but there was no evidence of his previous baldness. His skin was alabaster white; it almost had an ethereal glow in the hazy, cloudy sunset. He looked angelic nearly, until he turned, his expression suggesting he was more than aware of her thoughts. His eyes glowed red with what appeared to be anger and his face was set in the meanest scowl she could imagine.

So when he walked purposefully towards her, freezing her with fear it was easy to see how she was taken completely off guard when he grabbed the back of her head roughly, sopping wet hair entangled in his grip, and kissed he harder than she had ever experienced before. She felt her knees start to buckle and he let go of her immediately. His face containing a smug look. He laughed coldly and looked down at her, "See nothing."

She sat there on the cold wood floor for a few minutes. He went back outside from the sound of the door closing again. She decided she would go to bed and figure out what to do once she had a sober mind again.