AN: Sorry this a few days late, everyone! I have been enormously ill. Again, thank you for all of your reviews, follows, and favorites and please accept this playlist of what I listened to while writing as a small consolation for the lateness of the chapter.

Chapter 1: Roots by In This Moment

Chapter 2: Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! At the Disco

Chapter 3: King of the World by Porcelain and the Tramps

Chapter 4: Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons

Chapter 5: Sympathy for the Devil by The Rolling Stones

Chapter 6: Crossfire by Stephen

Chapter 7: Killa by tUnE-yArDs

Chapter 8: A Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard

Chapter 9: He Loves You by The Pretty Reckless

Chapter 10: Falling by HAIM

Hermione's breath stuttered as she watched Livius crumble to the ground. She did not enjoy seeing anyone in a state of distress and while it was true he was a Death Eater, at the moment he was also the most seemingly stable Death Eater and she was not particularly keen to lose a possible ally in a sea of serpents. She felt the flood of thoughts that always preluded a flashback, times she watched other bodies fall lifeless before her, and she struggled valiantly to push those images to the back of her consciousness as she made a move towards him. Tom's arm still held her securely but she shrugged him off, rushing across the remnants of the protection circle to fall to her knees beside the Nott patriarch's form.

She registered Tom approaching behind her but paid him no mind as she felt her heart rate slowing and her brain focusing in the way it always seemed to do by the end of the war in times of true crisis. Small anxieties still sent her into a tizzy, but the big things, the truly scary things, no longer made her lose her composure. Instead of panic, Hermione felt numb.

Pulling her wand from her hair, she ran a quick series of basic diagnostic spells to establish a baseline before looking over the form of the man in front of her to verify there was no unexpected external damage. She nodded at the results as she reached forward to peel back one of Livius's eyelids, noting his iris was back to being a stormy blue and retained no remnants of the lilac color it had moments ago. She glanced up to see Tom watching her with an inscrutable expression and she took a deep breath as she felt her emotions kick back on, danger averted for the time being.

"He appears to be back to himself," Hermione informed Tom with a shaky smile, "and there is no permanent damage that I can see."

She stood, wiping her hands on her slightly bedraggled bonding gown. "His magical core is depleted but should replenish over time. All we need to do is wake him up and with a little rest, he should be good as new."

Tom's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, dodging one of the fissures that had recently appeared in the earth. "Where exactly did you learn the healing skills? You made no mention of mediwitch training or similar."

Hermione's knees shook ever so slightly as she was reminded where she was, who she had just bound her soul to, and who she was before all this. "Fighting a war with Lord Voldemort," she whispered, closing her eyes.

She cleared her throat roughly as she pushed thoughts of previous lives away but the day appeared to have caught up with her because she felt tears pricking her eyes and oh- she was just so bloody tired. From the binding ceremony to the fight between their magic and then, THEN having a GOD come down to taunt them about the whole thing, it was just too much, it was just TOO BLOODY MUCH and-

"Stop."

Tom's demanding tone broke Hermione out of her reverie and she opened her eyes to see him eyeing her with a mix of confusion and anger. She realized that she had been standing there with her eyes closed for some time and she flushed, knowing how she must appear to him. She had been striving not to show the man a speck of weakness after her loss of control yesterday and a mental breakdown was certainly not on her agenda. She purposefully began seeking out her Occlumency shields and pushing her distress behind them, but her new husband interrupted her focus with a growl.

"What the fuck is this?" Tom murmured, rubbing at his chest as his eyes fixed on some unseen point in the mid-distance. She watched as he started to pace.

Hermione's face scrunched up in confusion for a moment as she tried to understand what, precisely, his issue was before she realized exactly what was happening and she felt a hysterical laugh bubble up out of her. Tom's eyes snapped to hers and he gave her an incredulous glare that simply made her laugh harder.

"Pray tell, little gaza," He grit out at her, slowly allowing his hand to cease rubbing at the space between his lungs. "What is so amusing?"

"Empathy, Tom," Hermione gasped out, the whole situation ludicrous under the circumstances of just how much had occurred in the last few hours. "You saw me becoming upset because I'm a bit overwhelmed with everything that has happened today and you did not like it. You wanted the upset to stop. That's something like empathy."

Tom stared at her, jaw clenched tight as she watched his brilliant mind run through the implications. "That's ridiculous," he finally settled on, though he looked unsure that his conclusions were correct. "I don't feel empathy. It's not a part of my being; the bond could not simply manufacture it."

Hermione sat down, not caring a whit that her bonding gown was likely getting even more torn up as she rubbed her eyes tiredly. "You may not have been born with it, but regardless of how you try to deny it, you can certainly develop it with the help of the bond. I suspect it will only manifest in times of more extreme emotional peaks and not on the smaller things, since it isn't organically based. Although, I wonder..." She paused, looking over at the still unconscious Livius. "Do you feel anything about the pain he suffered, or any fear that he may not be quite as stable as I believe he will be when he wakes?"

Tom glanced down at his second in command and shrugged. "Not particularly," he answered slowly. "Livius is extremely useful, but not irreplaceable."

"Well then," Hermione nodded. "It's likely the entreaty will only work for you to feel empathy towards your bond mate, me, rather than towards the world at large. I had hoped it would be more universal but... well, you can't have everything."

He stared down at her and fury lit up his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. "You tried to shackle me?" He demanded, flicking his wrist so that his wand slid from the holster at his forearm to his hand. "You attempted to undercut the fucking Dark Lord with such a proletarian emotion as 'empathy'?!"

His pupil's were so dark with anger that they were almost entirely black but Hermione simply raised an eyebrow at the explicit threat, not making any move to rise from her spot on the ground. "Go ahead, Tom. Try to curse me. I think you'll find the protection entreaty will make that quite impossible."

Tom's eyes slid shut and she watched his whole body shake with fury as he considered the ramifications of what he had done, of the bond he had handed her. She could almost taste his rage and impotence on the air and whereas yesterday it would have thrilled her, today she found herself unable to bear it. His vexation was distinctly unpleasant to her, grating and uncomfortable.

Hermione rose to her feet and crossed to where he was, slipping her arms around his waist in a show of reassurance and nuzzling her head under his chin. Tom's eyes flew open as he looked down on her in consternation before his face twisted in a cruel smirk and he secured her body against his own within a cage of his arms.

"Seems I'm not the only one who's being thoroughly fucked by the entreaties, hmmm Gaza?" His hands caressed the bare skin of her spine and he dipped his mouth to her ear. "Devotion ensures that you'll come crawling to 'comfort' me whenever I so much as frown."

Her eyes widened as she realized what she had done without even being conscious of her actions and she scowled up at him, moving to pull away, but Tom held on tightly and refused to release her. "Now tell me, Hermione," he continued, reaching up to tuck a curl back into her complicated up-do while his other arm kept her unyieldingly pressed to him. "What, precisely, did your other entreaty do to me?"

Unable to move, Hermione could do little but stare up at him defiantly as she let her own face fall into a smirk.

"You mean when you collapsed like a rag doll that'd been tossed aside for better toys when I made my entreaty for balance?" She asked innocently.

His arm tightened and his nostrils flared, but Tom refused to be baited, only offering her a tight nod.

Hermione sighed and slumped down in his arms, deflating a little before she looked back up at him and began thoughtlessly tracing patterns on his biceps.

"When you make a horcrux, as you know, you literally slice off a piece of your soul," she began. "Not much research has been done on Horcruxes but considering how you deteriorated in my original timeline and based on the insanity inherent in the manifestations of even your earlier horcruxes, it was my theory that a part of what caused the madness that came from their creation was a continued bleed, for lack of a better way to put it. It was a concept I had toyed with before I even considered coming back in time, that the wounds left by the severing of pieces of your soul were not closed, acting like a festering and oozing infection."

"Over time," Hermione continued, still unconsciously petting the Dark Lord, "the creation of additional horcruxes would exacerbate the issue but regardless, I had concerns regarding your mental state if the two injuries that already exist upon your soul were allowed to suppurate. Not much research, unfortunately, leads to absolutely no solutions to that problem but a bond, well... a bond is a living breathing organism and therefore can accomplish much more than a spell. Nothing but remorse can return your soul fragments to you but I hypothesized I could use the bond to cauterize the soul wounds and stabilize you."

She smiled, forgetting for a moment her disgust over the subject matter as she reveled in the happiness that always came from intellectual triumph. "And I was right."

Tom snorted, apparently charmed by her earnestness even if he did still look annoyed by her entreaty. "I suppose that particular entreaty is less obnoxious than your other two," he told her, stroking a finger along her jawline and smiling when she shivered. "I rather enjoy being sane."

He released her with a sigh as he glanced down at Livius, who was still lying on the grass. "I suppose we should deal with him so we can move along."

Hermione flushed, appalled that she had forgotten the injured man, before she hurried to cast a 'Rennervate' and help Livius to sit up as he sputtered for air. After casting the same series of diagnostic spells to ensure the results stayed stable, Hermione announced that his core had replenished sufficiently for the man to be safe to apparate home to his wife and rest. Tom, after threatening his second in command to ensure his silence, made plans to meet with Livius to discuss what the man may or may not recall of his time being possessed the following day and sent him on his way.

"I have a surprise for you," Tom offered with a charming smile after Livius disappeared, extending his arm in a demand to side-along her to whatever it is he wanted to show her. Hermione hesitated but he raised his eyebrows and his mouth twitched in a sort of mocking challenge and with a huff, she clutched his elbow and allowed herself to be whirled away into the evening.

They landed with a resounding 'thump' outside hedges as tall and thick as the gates of Hogwarts. Hermione glanced around, taking in the heavily forested area that stopped approximately fifty yards before the more designed greenery began in earnest.

"Where are w-" she started to ask but cut off with a squeak when the hand that was still tucked into Tom's arm suddenly registered pressure and a wetness that she knew was not there previously. She whirled around, staring wide eyed as Tom cleaned the blade he had used to slice into her skin with a murmured spell and despite her struggle, pressed her bloodied hand into the hedge. He continued speaking under his breath, in a language she recognized as Latin, before the foliage shuddered and began to part. Hermione's breath caught as a small path opened and Tom pulled her through the gap, the greenery immediately moving back into place behind them.

Hermione wrenched her hand free and shot him a look that was designed to flay his skin from his bones.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" She hissed at him. He tilted his head and studied her for a moment but she was distracted as she felt a shiver run up her spine when the wards around the area suddenly recognized her.

Her mouth gaped at the surge of power. The magic of this place was unbelievable. She turned on her heel, Tom momentarily forgotten entirely, glancing around to see a medium sized tower house built of faded white brick and stone. Ivory vines crawled up the sides of the house and a large patio covered in all manner of magical plants sat in the side yard. Large double doors beckoned and with very little hesitation, Hermione moved towards the structure that positively oozed magic.

She heard Tom snort behind her and, remembering the original reason for her upset, she reluctantly abandoned her exploration in favor of turning back to him and fixing him with an icy glare.

"You cannot just cut people with a dagger whenever it fits your purposes, Tom," she informed him. "You –merlin, I can't believe I'm having this conversation- you have to ask permission before using someone's blood for something."

Tom shook his head and spoke slowly as if explaining to a small child. "No Gaza, I do not have to ask permission to obtain blood from a person I require it of. In fact, most people I require blood from would be very unlikely to give their permission."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried very hard to tamp down her exasperation. "I am not your lackey, who you can simply demand things from whenever it pleases you, nor am I an enemy whose blood you spill for a different purpose entirely."

"No," Tom said with a smirk as he crossed to her and slipped an arm around her waist. "You are my wife."

He steered her back towards the Tower House while Hermione tried to meet his eye. "Yes, I am. And that means-"

"And this, Gaza," he interrupted her, pulling open one of the smooth, shiny double doors and ushering her inside, "is 'Nidum Serpentis.' Our happy little home."

Hermione choked and she watched as the room swam ever so slightly in her vision.

Bloody hell, OF COURSE she would now be expected to live with Tom Riddle. They were married, for Merlin's sake. How, how, HOW did she manage to overlook this?

The level of denial she was currently engaging in could not possibly be healthy.

"Our home," she echoed faintly, eyes sweeping over the large stone staircase that dominated the entrance hall.

"Oh yes," Tom assured her with a suspicious lack of irony, leading her to the left and into an entirely brick kitchen area. "Translates to 'The Serpent's Nest.' You see, Abraxas has been quite put out for some time that his Lord lived in a tiny flat in Knockturn Alley, of all places. I've known he was scouring the backlogs of unclaimed inherited properties to find something that he could suitably tempt me with."

"This stunning piece of magical architecture," he continued smoothly, leading her out of the kitchen, across the entrance hall, and into an adjoining parlor, "was built by Halwyn Slytherin the Third, last known heir of the Slytherin name before the Gaunt's became the descendants, in 1487. It's been forgotten in the bowels of the Ministry Archives for quite some time but Abraxas, knowing better than to bring me anything associated with the Gaunt name, must have searched quite diligently to find this wedding present."

"Isn't the ring you made into a horcrux a Gaunt Family heirloom?" Hermione asked faintly as he led her up the stairs. Though, of course, she knew the answer to that question. Her brain, it appeared, had turned to absolute mush.

Tom stiffened and his eyes narrowed. "I think one reminder of that particular family is more than enough. I should also point out that you are forbidden from speaking of my horcruxes to anyone but myself."

That pulled Hermione out of her horrified musings enough to snort a laugh. "You can't forbid me from anything what-so-ever, Tom. And I had no intention of mentioning your horcruxes outside of present company."

He stopped at the top of the stairs and smiled coldly down at her, cradling her cheeks in his hands. The skin flushed hotly beneath his fingers and she watched his eyes immediately darken and fall to half-mast. "Speaking of them to anyone who could use them to harm me, which I might remind you is everyone, would violate that lovely devotion entreaty I so recently secured for myself."

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead that seemed to leave behind scorch marks. "Therefore, little gaza, you will find yourself QUITE forbidden."

Part of Hermione, the intelligent and independent part of her, immediately riled at the thought of Tom Riddle being capable of prohibiting her from doing a damn thing. That part, unfortunately, was quickly drowning in the roar of her blood as it pulsed through her ears, making her deaf and dumb to everything but all the places the man in front of her was touching her. Tom's lips were dragging across her forehead and down her temple, his mouth caressing the skin in a chaste and yet fiercely erotic fashion that was leaving Hermione frozen in his grip.

Thoughts of Aeternum Adstringo and Not-Livius and normal Livius and a home with the Dark lord were rapidly quieting, her entire world narrowing down to the pinpoint of where Tom's lips were currently occupied by gently rubbing against the spot directly in front of her ear. His tongue peaked out and slid ever so lightly across her skin and her knees buckled, his arms moving quickly to catch her by the waist and hold her up as he moved ever lower.

Hermione's nose rubbed gently against Tom's as his breath swept along her cheek, his mouth finally stopping so close to hers that she could feel the heat of him across her own rosy flesh. She swore she could feel their magic crackle in the air around them, lighting the very atmosphere on fire as the moment hung hard and heavy, waiting to come crashing down on the both of them one way or another.

For a moment, the space of a breath, a screaming voice broke through the fog of absolute lust in her brain and it pounded at her, trying desperately to force her to remember that here stood Lord Voldemort, bringer of death and chaos and destruction and all things dark and evil. Who are you, it screeched, that you would stand here millimeters from the Darkest Wizard of your time and revel in it?

But then her soul (and she would later blame the bond for this weakness, this failing,) her very soul shuddered within her chest and the screaming quieted until it was almost as if it had never been there at all and Hermione, without hesitation and without the ability to stop herself, crashed into Tom and kissed him.

His magic washed over her and in a vague sort of distant appraisal, Hermione came to the conclusion that at that moment, she was utterly and irrevocably subsumed.