Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: I thank you all for reading and reviewing: BlueSkyHeaven, XcrimsonroseX, IceAgeSurvivor123, ArtemisMoon87, GoldenTresses91, Summer Leah, cherrylilly, sarahr85, ilovenat1995, Lilipop10122, Rosiline, shinobinaraku, OrangeSoxz, EllieMay Duncan, Morbid DramaQueen10, XellamyBB, Alrauna, Noon's Phoenix.

Masters of Manipulation: Part Two

Chapter 13

Harry James Potter stared at the clock in his office. It was almost the previously agreed upon time for their meeting. He paced up and down the length of the chamber. He wasn't sure they were doing the right thing, not sure at all. A dash of silver blinded him briefly before he smiled at the person standing in front of him. The vampire's short, light-grey hair was something he had to get used to every time he saw her again. This time around, it was baffling messy from the temporal forces she had travelled through. Still, he missed seeing her large bushy bundle of frizzy curls, even though her clever, brown eyes were the one feature he would recognise anywhere in the world. No matter how pale her skin turned, or how many blades she wore, or how long her teeth became.

'Harry.'

'Hermione.'

The bone-crushing manner in which this Hermione hugged him always made him slightly wary. It was as if she hadn't seen him in ages. He hadn't dared to ask her anything about the future. He was pretty certain she wouldn't answer his questions anyway. But he noticed how she always held on a bit longer than her counterpart did in this day and age. Somehow, he got the feeling he died a long time ago from when she came. Well, she was a vampire. There was no telling how old she was. He'd been reluctant to ask for some reason.

'How did it go?' Hermione asked curiously.

'Everything went as you predicted and I responded in the way you told me to, meaning I was able to stop Moran before she went completely overboard, but …'

'Oh, oh, there is a but,' Hermione interrupted warily before Harry could finish.

'I'm not sure you changed it. Riddle is holding something back.'

Hermione snorted. 'Of course Tom is holding something back. It's in his nature. He would go nuts if he had no secrets to keep.'

Harry grinned. 'I don't think it's something pleasant, Hermione. I doubt you got the result you were hoping for. I've a distinct feeling he was going to blow the building again if your younger counterpart hadn't prevented it.'

Hermione frowned and sat down in one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other. She ran her hands through her short hair and sighed.

'But he didn't, Harry. Someone is screwing around with Time. I have to find some way to change things back before we're all doomed.'

'Helga Huffle–'

'Oh, spare me the idiot Founders and their ancient views on temporal incursions. Their stupid theories are the reason we have this mess to begin with,' Hermione muttered, irritated. 'But let's not go there. We need to cut to the chase, since I don't have unlimited time.'

Harry quirked an eyebrow at that. His eye automatically drew to the black leather book in her lap, titled: The Circle of Time. It seemed to him Hermione had all the time in the world.

'You still think Tom is after his old obsessions in this timeline?'

'I am pretty sure we are dealing with Lord Voldemort again, Hermione.'

'Pretty sure or one-hundred percent certain? It's a thin line with him.'

'Well, I can't be one-hundred percent certain unless he pulls something. And usually when he does, we are all walking so far behind the facts that I'd like to prevent that occurrence altogether.'

'And I don't want to alter a timeline unnecessary. It's dangerous to mess with Time too much,' Hermione said, pondering on the situation at hand. 'It can turn rather vengeful.'

'Hermione?'

'Yes?'

'Why do you need me to tell you how things are going to turn out? You're from the future. Surely, you must notice any alterations we make here when you return.'

Hermione smiled. 'Good question, but wrong assumption. When I return, everything will still be as I left it. You see, Harry, it takes awhile before the ripple-effect reaches my time and space. It's faster to look at the balance immediately in the days to follow. It gives you the best indication if the changes you made are going to work.'

'If that is the case, you should talk to yourself,' Harry suggested.

'No, I can't do that. I wish I could, but I can't risk Tom finding out what I am doing through my younger self. He's always been pretty darn good in reading me.'

Harry shrugged. 'Well, I think we've only delayed the inevitable yesterday.'

'If you're right that means the dance wasn't the focal point after all. I'll have to scout the continuum again to check. You know what … I'll see you next week, same time, same place? After a week, we should be able to tell if we succeeded or not. And I don't think Tom can do too much damage in one week.'

Harry made a face and sent her a pitiful, mocking smile.

'All right, all right,' Hermione acknowledged. 'He can do a whole lot of damage in one week, but nothing I can't fix … I hope.' The last two words came out in a soft whisper. Hermione stood up. 'Don't worry, Harry, eventually I will find the fool who is meddling with Time. We have the advantage here, because Time is on our side in this. Fortunately, the situation is still containable. It may look out of control, but beside us, no one knows. It limits–'

'Ron suspects me,' Harry interrupted abruptly.

'What?' she said concerned. 'How is that possible?'

'The Founders' books. He thinks I haven't destroyed them.'

'But you did.'

'I know I did, but Ron doesn't believe me.'

Hermione shook her head and sat back down. 'This is a disaster. The reason I went to you and only you in the first place is: because Ron is such a dreadful Occlumens. If Tom retrieves this bit of information from him, he will start to look for those books again.'

'Well, they aren't to be found,' Harry said casually.

A weak smile appeared on the vampire's pale face. 'I know about the Tracker, Harry.'

Shocked, Harry looked at her.

'Don't worry,' Hermione said, amused. 'I don't seek that kind of power, but I know the threat is still out there. If Tom starts looking …' she paused, her fingers tapping on the book, 'I don't care how good you think you hid it, he will find it. You'll have to do something about Ron suspecting you and you'll have to do it fast.'

'You're not suggesting I Obliviate Ron?' Harry asked disturbed.

'Yes, I am. If it bothers you too much, you can use Memory Modification instead of Obliviation. It's slightly less invasive. But you need to do something. This is absolute power we're talking about. It's what the Tracker represents, and that's not something which is safe in anyone's hands … let alone in the hands of Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

Harry scratched his neck uneasily.

'Do you need me to do it?' Hermione asked kindly.

He shook his head. 'No, you have enough on your mind. I'll … I'll get it done.'

'Good.' She rose from her seat and opened the book. 'Till next time.'

In a flash of silver, the vampire Hermione disappeared.

Alone again in the empty office, Harry sighed, leaning with his butt against his desk. This was all becoming far too complicated to his taste.

xXxXx

Pulling a disgusted face, a much younger, human Hermione placed the empty glass back on the side table.

'That was an utterly disgusting Painkiller Potion. I can't believe Ginny hasn't bought a more child friendly variant. Really, there are far better tasting Painkiller Potions out there, and with three children …'

The doorbell rang, making Hermione halt her complaints about the disgusting potion. In front of the window, the man disguised as Viktor Krum glanced at the yew wand in his hand and sighed. Terrific, visitors, just what he didn't need. Smoothly, he pocketed his wand unnoticeably, while Hermione groaned in annoyance.

'Can you get rid of them, Viktor, whoever they are? I am not up for company.'

Oh, I can get rid of them … in so many delightful ways … let's see who has the nerve to disturb Lord Voldemort.

'It will be my pleasure,' Tom Riddle responded in Krum's voice, before he swirled out of the room.

Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, then, snorted. Closing her eyes, she leaned her aching head back in the couch's pillow. The potion should kick in any minute now. She really needed it to kick in now. Her head was killing her.

Irritated about the disturbance, Tom opened the frontdoor. The person who stood there did not improve his mood at all. It was Ron Weasley, holding on to a large bouquet of flowers and a small parcel.

'Mr. Krum,' Ron said stiffly, immediately making a move to step across the threshold.

Tom quickly blocked his entrance by placing his hand on the rim of the doorway. 'Hermione isn't feeling well,' he said calmly.

'Oh, poor you, she gets really cranky when she is sick,' Ron replied, unabashed, and made another attempt to pass what he assumed was Viktor Krum. 'Do you mind?' Ron glared at Viktor's arm.

'She's not feeling up to company at the moment. Hermione wants to rest,' Tom said icily.

'I'm not company,' Ron stated, certain. 'She won't mind–'

'Ron! Is that you?'

A triumphant smile arrived on his freckled face. 'Told you,' Ron said and blatantly pushed Viktor aside to walk indoors. Something he might have thought twice about doing had he known who he really was pushing aside.

Behind Ron's back, Viktor's eyes flashed red. Tom closed the frontdoor softly with every bit of restraint he could muster. In his bottled up anger, he broke off the doorknob. Fortunately, that was easily fixed with a bit of magic. His temper, on the other hand, was a far more difficult problem to fix. Leaning against the door and focusing on his breathing, he tried desperately to control himself. Only every time he thought he had it under control, something was said in the living room that caused his anger to rise again. So, he stayed put.

In the meantime, Ron was hugging Hermione. 'Are you alright?' he asked, concerned.

'Just a headache, nothing to get all worked up about,' she responded, putting on a brave face and smiling. 'Is that for me?'

'Yes, I thought I'd bring you something for nearly destroying all chance you have of every getting elected.'

'Well, Harry fixed it.'

'And Riddle being oh so benevolent went along with it,' Ron mocked. 'Did you have to crawl on your knees and beg forgiveness yet?'

Hermione snorted and slapped him. 'Funny Ron.' She placed her hands on her hips and looked at the flowers and the parcel with a teasing grin. 'So you thought one bouquet of flowers and an incredibly tiny package would be enough compensation?'

'Do not trash the gift before opening,' Ron said, waddling his index finger at her before handing her the package. 'Have you got a vase around here somewhere?'

'Try one of the top cabinets,' Hermione said, distracted, ripping off the paper. Her jaw dropped when she saw Ron had got her The Aspects of Seven by Bridget Wenlock. Stunned, she opened the book and stared at the ancient pages of the first edition.

'Ron, th–this is ju-just …' she paused, staring at him before letting out an excited squeal and jumping him around his neck while kissing him firmly on his cheeks. The flowers landed on the kitchen table.

'Like it?' he said, grinning.

'I love it,' she corrected happily. 'But it must have cost you a fortune.'

'So what … I've too much money anyway,' he responded, shrugging. 'Don't think about not accepting it,' he added when he saw her face and the motion she was about to make with her hand. 'I never took Arithmancy, which means I've absolutely no use for that book other than heating my flat with it.'

Hermione gasped and folded her arms around the book to protect it from harm.

Ron let out a laugh and picked up the potion bottle on the bar to glance at the label. 'Yuck, Wriggle's Concoction. You know I hate to be the one to say it, but Snape's Painkiller Potion is far more effective and less revolting than this draught.'

'I ran out of his potion,' Hermione responded offhandedly. 'But this one is working fine. I'm already feeling a whole lot better.' She skipped through the leaves of the book, interested.

Ron rummaged through her cabinets and picked out a high, glass vase to put the flowers in, filling it with water with a flick of his wand. 'Where do you want it?'

'The kitchen table is fine,' Hermione said, glancing to the door questioningly. 'Vik?'

She looked back at Ron, who shrugged. 'Maybe he went to the loo,' Ron suggested, not at all sorry Krum wasn't there yet.

'Maybe …' Hermione concurred, placing the medieval Arithmancy book carefully on one of the bookshelves. 'Can I get you some coffee?'

'I'd love some. Have you heard anything from Harry yet?' Ron asked cautiously.

Hermione wanted to deny seeing Harry, but to her surprise something else came out of her mouth. 'I spoke with him this afternoon.'

'Has he said anything …?' Ron halted, because Krum entered the room.

'Ron gave me Wenlock's book,' Hermione said cheerfully to Viktor.

'And she has refrained herself from immediately pretending we are not here and diving into it at once,' Ron said humorously.

'That is a miracle on its own,' Tom responded in kind.

'I thought so, too.'

'Are you two done making fun of me?' Hermione asked with a smile and handed Ron his coffee when the doorbell rang again.

A flash of annoyance flew across Krum's bearded face, making Hermione quirk an eyebrow at him questioningly. She knew why she hadn't wanted any company, but why he was in such a bad mood was beyond her.

'I got it! I got it! I got it!' Rose yelled, running down the stairs.

'I think she's got it,' Ron repeated, smiling.

'How's your headache?' Tom asked Hermione, sitting down in the armchair next to the hearth.

'Much better,' Hermione responded and slouched into the couch.

Excited voices chattered in the hall, and a few seconds later, Rose was accompanied by Ginny and several Potter children into the living room.

'Uncle Ron! I didn't know you were here too,' Rose squeaked and ran into Ron's arms.

'Eh, little one.'

'I'm not little.'

Soon, Ron was swarmed by four children, who all wanted to know if he'd brought anything from the shop with him today.

'Hi everyone, Hermione. How have you been?' Ginny asked.

'Dreadful,' Hermione responded; her eyes widened, she couldn't believe she just blurted that out.

Ginny sent her an understanding expression and gave her a hug.

Slowly, Tom sank a bit further into the armchair he had positioned himself him. Fucking grand central station, he thought to himself, watching the clock on the wall somewhat apprehensively. Still, if push came to shove, he would just hex everyone present. However, he'd rather keep his illegal activities a secret for somewhat longer if possible, so he decided to wait and see if he could sit it out.

'I won't be long,' Ginny said to Hermione. 'Harry told me you had a headache. So I thought maybe it would be a good idea if Rose joined us for dinner? We're going to the new pancake restaurant in town.'

'Can I, Mummy? Can I?' Rose asked, bouncing on her feet.

'Sure,' Hermione said.

'Yay!'

'We can go see the animals at the petting zoo too,' Lily informed Rose.

'Thanks,' Hermione whispered to Ginny.

'You're welcome,' Ginny whispered back. 'Does the girl fly or is she more like her mother?' she teased.

'Eh!' Hermione objected resentfully, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend. 'I can fly … Just because I am not all that crazy about Quidditch like you lot doesn't mean I can't fly. I just don't fancy doing it, because I hate heights and it's uncomfortable. And I fail to see the point of flying for an accomplished witch or wizard anyway. Flying is for people who can't perform Apparition correctly and want to hide their abysmal skills from the rest of the world,' Hermione ranted, wanting to slap her hand in front of her big mouth afterwards.

Why did she say something this insulting to her friends when Ginny had just offered to help her out? She couldn't believe she just added that last bit with two ex-professional Quidditch players in the room. Viktor seemed to find it funny, because she saw him grinning from ear to ear. Somewhat apprehensively, she glanced sideways to Ginny. To her relief, Ginny didn't seem mad or insulted – she was merely sending Hermione a teasing, mocking smirk.

'So Rose?' Ginny asked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. 'Can you fly?'

'I have a broom,' Rose said cheerfully. 'I'll get it. It's in the cupboard in the hall.'

'Daddy's little girl then,' Ginny decided, winking to Viktor. 'All right, let's go. James … we don't want to keep your father waiting.'

'Yes, Mum,' James said, fumbling in his pocket. 'Bye, Uncle Ron.'

Ginny glared at her brother, while her children ran outdoors. 'What did you just hand my illustrious son, Ron?'

'Nothing dear,' Ron said innocently.

Everyone in the room could see he was lying. Ron made a feeble attempt to try to distract them from the topic at hand by turning his attention to the Quidditch Today magazine on the table.

'Chudley Cannons!' he said, excited, and showed Ginny the cover before diving behind the magazine.

He didn't fool his sister. Ginny turned to Hermione, pointing with her hand to Ron. 'See how his ears are turning red? It most certainly is a mystery to me how he landed himself a job as an Unspeakable. What do you think, Hermione?'

'I couldn't agree more,' Hermione blurted out.

'Eh! I am not stupid,' Ron claimed, looking up from the magazine.

'Whatever you say, bro,' Ginny replied offhandedly. 'But the bill will be for you if James pulls something tonight,' she added warningly, walking to the hall when Rose passed with her broom in hand.

'Rose!' Hermione shouted.

The girl took a couple of steps back till she stood in full view of everyone in the living room.

'Aren't you going to say goodbye to your father and me?' Hermione said admonishingly.

'Sorry, Mum,' Rose said, placing the broom against the wall.

She gave Hermione a kiss before running to her father. Tom sank even further down into the armchair in shock. Nobody saw the ridiculous situation that followed. Hermione didn't, because she continued to show Ginny out. Ron missed it too, because he was skipping through the magazine, trying to find the article on his favourite team. Rose jumped her now thoroughly petrified father around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

'Bye, Daddy,' she said, waiting expectantly while holding onto his neck with her arms.

Tom didn't move an inch. He had completely stiffened up.

'Daddy?' Rose asked, frowning.

No, no, no. That was the wrong word for anyone to say to him. He couldn't be a father, he just couldn't be. He looked at the now confused girl next to his chair. She really was the spitting image of her mother. See, she was Hermione's, not his. He had nothing to do with the matter.

'What is it?' he asked awkwardly.

'Don't I get a kiss too?' Rose asked, holding up her cheek.

'Oh, I–I … ermm …' Tom mumbled distraught.

He knew he had to get a grip of himself quickly or someone would notice his behaviour was odd. And for crying out loud, it wasn't like he had never kissed a girl before. He kissed lots and lots of them. But they were all normal girls not little, whiny, annoying, crying things that ... that couldn't possibly be his. Impossible, she was five! He hadn't been with Hermione nine months prior to that. He was seeing things that weren't there. There had been no snake in the hall and the kid was not a Parselmouth. She couldn't be. No, she definitely was not. If Lord Voldemort decided something was not the case, then it simply wasn't. His fingers delved deep in the chair's armrest and his breathing was becoming erratic.

'Daddy? Are you alright?' Rose asked quietly.

This made Ron look up from his magazine. The move jolted Tom out of his frantic thoughts and he swiftly kissed his daughter on the cheek.

'Of course I am fine. Off you go,' he ordered. 'You wouldn't want to keep Po–your uncle Harry waiting.'

But the girl didn't let go of his neck and continued to stare at him. 'Tyra said there was something funny about you,' Rose said slowly.

Tom stared back impassively, his hand ready to draw his wand. 'I think,' he whispered, leaning towards Rose's ear, 'that I may have caught a cold. I'm not feeling very well.'

Rose's eyes went wide, and to his utter relief, she finally let go of his neck. 'Then you need Pepperup Potion. I'll go get it for you, and then, you will feel all better again.'

Rose skipped to the cupboard in the hall to get the potion.

'Tyra?' Ron asked, puzzled.

'Imaginary friend,' Tom grunted.

'Oh, I remember those. They can be very annoying. Ginny had one when she was five too,' Ron grinned.

'Rose? What are you doing? People are waiting for you,' Hermione asked, standing next to Ginny by the frontdoor.

'Daddy has a cold,' Rose stated matter-of-factly, pulling out the Potions box. 'He needs Pepperup Potion. And he needs me to bring him that.'

The girl ran to her mother and held out the box she retrieved from the cupboard. Ginny smiled and winked to Hermione, indicating she had all the time in the world. Hermione waved her wand at the box, opening it up. 'All right dear, but hurry up,' she said, handing Rose the vial of Pepperup Potion.

Rose darted back into the living room and handed her father the potion quickly. 'Now, you will feel all better again,' she said certainly.

'Yes, I will,' Tom replied smiling, holding the vial in his hand, waiting for the girl to leave.

But Rose folded her arms over each other determined and her eyes darted between the vial and him expectantly. 'Take it,' she added bossily.

Ron dove completely behind the magazine to hide his glee. He could truly understand Viktor didn't want to drink the potion and experience the rather unpleasant effects for the mere hint of a cold. But from the look on Rose's face, he had a feeling the poor man had no other choice. Well, that's what you get when you tell children they need to take something disgusting if they are sick. You have to set a good example yourself, too. Suddenly, steam flew across the room and a brief glance over his magazine showed Ron Viktor's face had turned a deep red colour. Ron snickered.

'Now, you are all better,' Rose said cheerfully.

'Yes,' Tom responded, steam still flying from his ears.

To Tom's utter relief, that was it and Rose ran back to the hall. Loads and loads of chattering as well as the ruffling of coats indicated they were finally leaving. Now, all he had to do was: get rid of Weasley one way or the other, because he was beginning to run out of time. The Polyjuice Potion only worked for a limited amount of time, and his hour was nearly up. It was a good thing he knew just the way to make Weasley run for the hills. He leaned over towards the still grinning Ron.

'Look, I don't want to be rude, but umm … do you mind leaving?' Tom asked. 'You see, I had this surprise planned for Hermione tonight and … well, it doesn't exactly work with company, if you get my drift.'

He wiggled his thick eyebrows deviously and winked suggestively at Weasley. If this didn't get him to leave, he would have no other choice but to send the redhead home between six boards of wood.

'Oh, uhhh … I am sorry. I had no idea you were planning something,' Ron muttered apologetically, his face burning up while he placed the magazine back on the table.

'No harm done, feel free to stop by tomorrow. We should be done then,' Tom added viciously, upon noticing the discomfort his implication had caused in the other wizard.

That made Ron's ears turn red again.

The frontdoor slammed shut and Tom leaned back satisfied when Ron got out of his chair to leave. Hermione nearly entered the living room when the doorbell rang again. She sighed and turned around.

'Oh for crying out loud,' Tom muttered, raising his hands in the air in surrender.

'Do you need me to kick whoever that is out?' Ron grinned.

'I'll be forever in your debt if you can,' Tom grumbled, sighing. Why did the entire world decide to drop by Hermione's house on the very evening he'd planned to question her?

'-despite that Elizabeth may be working with Vlad's say-so,' Sunny explained, her head turned to Hermione who walked behind her with a serious frown on her face. The tall, white-haired vampire was a long way into the living room before she saw the others and stopped telling Hermione what she'd uncovered. 'Oh hello, Viktor and …?'

'My friend, Ron Weasley,' Hermione explained, introducing them to each other. 'Ron, this is Sheila Holmes, but she prefers to be called Sunny.'

Ron and Sunny shook hands. 'Nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley.'

'Please call me Ron. Whenever someone calls me Mr. Weasley, I tend to look around for my father.'

Sunny smiled. 'Ron works fine for me. Good to see you again, Viktor.'

'Sunny,' Tom said, nodding his head courteously.

'I think I may have an opening in my schedule tomorrow,' Hermione said to the vampire, picking up her agenda and flipping the leaves.

'We'll need some time to execute … it,' Sunny replied, glancing at Ron, not noticing that Viktor watched the exchange between Hermione and her with a bit too much interest.

'I know,' Hermione responded, distracted. 'Have you figured out Capet's angle already?'

'Well, I probably can guess what he is up to, but I sent Ricky over to France to investigate that for me and be certain. Capet is much more vulnerable to his pretty face than mine.'

'Your pretty face?' Hermione snorted. 'Perhaps if you stopped being mental and stayed out of the sun once in awhile, it would become pretty again?'

Abruptly, her cheeks flushed. She didn't say that out loud, did she?

Sunny roared with laughter and slapped her on the back. 'That's why all vampires love you, Granger. You speak what's on your mind, just like us. You really should become one.'

'Been there, done that,' Hermione muttered offhandedly. 'Should two hours in the evening be enough?'

'It should be,' Sunny said, glancing at the opening in time. 'If Vlad can't make it tomorrow, I'll reschedule us for Sunday?'

Tom frowned briefly before his face turned utterly blank again. Ron just looked confused at the two women.

Hermione nodded. 'That's fine by me, but not in the middle of the night.'

Sunny grinned and slapped her chest. 'Me, do something in the middle of the night and miss out on the chance to have the sun shine down on my delicate complexion?'

Hermione tilted her head, amused. 'Funny, Sunny.'

'I'll see you then,' Sunny said cheerfully. 'Don't forget to bring your blades.'

'Trust me, I won't,' Hermione muttered, throwing the agenda on the table.

'Viktor, Ron,' Sunny nodded.

'Bye, Sunny,' Tom replied.

'I'll go with you,' Ron quickly added.

'Oh?' Hermione uttered, surprised. 'You just got here.'

'Yeah, I still have a … things to do,' Ron said apologetically and kissed her goodbye.

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Things … right. What is her name this time?'

Ron shrugged.

'Ronald Bilius Weasley, don't tell me you forgot the name of the girl you are dating,' Hermione reprimanded.

'It was something with an A, I think,' he said, uncertain. 'Anne?'

Sunny chuckled.

'You really are the catch of the century, Ronald,' Hermione said sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips. 'Not knowing the name.' She shook her head as she showed them out the door.

Tom sighed when they all left. His eyes darted to the clock. Not one minute too soon. He heard Sunny flit away with vampire speed and was waiting for the Apparition crack from Weasley, but to his annoyance, Ron raced back into the living room and picked up the Quidditch magazine.

'You mind if I borrow this?'

'Not at all,' Tom replied, his fingers tapping impatiently on the chair's armrest in a rhythmic motion.

Wishing Weasley would bugger off, Tom looked at the clock on the wall again when he felt a pair of eyes burning into him. He pulled his attention away and looked to the doorway past the redhead. There stood Hermione. She was clearly staring at the motion he was making with his hand. His fingers froze, realising what he had done too late. For what looked like an eternity, their eyes locked. Until Hermione moved.

'Look out!' she shouted to Ron and whipped out her wand.

Baffled, Ron stood still like a statue when Hermione's curse flew by him and blasted the chair Tom vacated in a hurry to pieces. Tom rolled over the table, whipping out his wand in the process. He aimed.

'Ron, move!' Hermione yelled desperately at the human obstacle standing between the two duellers.

Ron turned his head to her and widened his eyes when she made a jabbing motion with her wand in his direction. He dropped to the floor, covering his head with his arms, as two spells collided above his head.

'What the fuck?' Ron swore.

Sparks began to fly all around him as the curses were unable to come to completion. The air turned static from the sheer force of the magic. Crawling away on his belly to get out of the danger zone, he moved behind the couch and whipped out his wand. Finally, he had an excuse to hex Viktor Krum. It was something he'd been dying to do ever since his fourth year at Hogwarts.

From his new position, Ron could only see Hermione's concentrated face as she whirled around to break the connection and flung the next hex into her husband's direction. A gonglike sound filled the room and Hermione Apparated away just before the wall behind her got blasted to smithereens by what must have been Viktor's curse.

What the bloody hell was going on?

Furious at seeing such a violent curse almost hitting his friend, Ron rolled to the other side of the couch, slashed his wand into the direction of where he was expecting to see the bearded face of Viktor, and got the shock of a lifetime when his curse hurtled towards Tom Riddle.

'Fuck!' Ron cursed, wide-eyed.

Amused, Riddle smirked as he lazily waved Ron's curse right back at him.

'Protego!' Ron cast.

The gonglike sound of his own curse smashing into his shield was deafened by Hermione's Apparition. She appeared on top of the bar, sending out a flare of bluebell flames directly at the table Riddle was standing on, simultaneously making a backflip to land behind the bar for cover. Just in a nick of time, because the red dash that flew over her head did some very destructive things to the cabinets behind her.

Her bluebell flames burst into a roaring fire around Tom.

'Aguamenti!'

To his horror, it was as if he put oil on the fire. The flames rose in one violent burst. Quickly, he Disapparated to safety.

Hermione ran from her hideout behind the bar when she heard the crack of Riddle's Disapparation. Ron squatted, his back against the couch and his wand raised. 'Hermione …?'

'Hush!' she hissed warningly, pointing to the door silently with her wand.

Ron shook his head. 'I'm not leaving,' he hissed underneath his breath.

Emphasising her resolve, she nodded in the door's direction again. 'Go.'

'Forget it,' he added, glaring back with equal resolve.

'You're in my wa–'

Crack.

In a reflex, Hermione made a short stabbing motion in the direction of the sound, swirling out of the way of Tom's curse. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw who and what had Apparated back into the living room. Ron screamed in terror when Tyra struck. The snake's fangs landed in his silvery shield with a crash. Tyra flipped her tail into his shield with all the force she could muster, and Ron flew through the living room, smashing into the kitchen cabinets before plummeting to the ground. Riddle whirled his wand around, catching Hermione's invisible knives. They whirled around his body before he flung them back to her. She dove to the ground behind the armchair to evade the blades, and Ron shrieked when he had to duck again as their invisible tips dug into the cabinet above his head.

'Protego!' Ron yelled panicky, because Tyra struck again.

The snake fangs collided with the silvery shield over and over again. Ron needed all his concentration to keep his Shield Charm active.

'Tyra, don't!' Hermione yelled.

To no avail. Tyra wasn't listening to her anymore.

The chair Hermione hid behind suddenly levitated away. An unknown curse raced toward her. Not knowing what it was and therefore being limited in her reactions, she quickly chose to divert its path and sent it at the snake. It smashed into the Protective Charm Riddle cast around Tyra and Tom had to swirl out of the jinx's path Hermione had already sent his way while he was busy casting. It tore the curtains behind him to shreds. Simultaneously, they cast their next spells towards each other. The two collided, causing the room to fill with green and red lightning sparks.

'Interesting choice of curses, darling!' Tom yelled above the noise, holding the connection. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been catching up on your Dark Arts knowledge.'

Hermione responded by twirling her wand around and casting a second curse through the already existing connection. Tom's eyes widened when the curse she cast obliterated the two already in play. Quickly, he broke the connection and dove to floor. The wall behind him blasted apart.

'Dark enough for you, honey?' Hermione retorted with a mockingly bow.

Shocked, she ducked when she saw the orange jet fly towards her. It soared over her head with a vicious snarl.

'Impedimenta!' Hermione cast into the direction where Tom should be.

She heard his Apparition crack and Disapparated herself immediately. Both of them reappeared at the other's last known position. Riddle smirked viciously, slashing his wand … in Ron's direction!

Ron's eyes widened, but he had no room to manoeuvre while being cornered by a humungous cobra. His only hope was that his shield would hold.

It didn't.

Riddle's curse obliterated Ron's silvery shield and struck him dead on in the chest. For a second, it was like he was okay, then, his eyes turned glassy. Ron tumbled to the floor, unmoving, defenceless. Tyra struck. Her fangs clamped in one of Godric's Wards. Recognising the curse by Tom's wandmovements, Hermione'd been just in time with her casting to prevent the snake from reaching Ron.

'Quick thinking, Granger,' Tom complimented, throwing a jinx at her. 'Though, you should have thought of that before Weasley was incapacitated.'

Hermione blocked the jinx effortlessly and returned the favour. Her black plume of smoke engulfed Tom entirely. A snort left her lips as the cloud of smoke twirled and twisted into every direction, indicating that Tom was struggling to regain his orientation and find some way to breathe. Lazily, she strolled around the room and flicked her wand one more time. The red dash sped inside the smoky environment. A crash sounded. Tom undoubtedly had been thrown into the wall behind him, smoke still following him around, attaching itself to his body like superglue. Triumphant, Hermione twirled her wand through her fingers.

'Who says I need help?' she stated arrogantly, flashing her wand again.

Tom screamed in pain when her curse struck him down.

'I think I got …' Hermione started.

A terrifying scream left her lips and she clutched to her head in sheer agony. It felt like her brain was being ripped apart at the seams. Everything danced. She closed her eyes. Still, the world was swirling and she saw nothing but smoke. She couldn't breathe. A wand circled above her head. A spell was cast. Hermione blinked when the nasty sensations subsided abruptly. Yellow light headed toward her. She ducked subconsciously. And … the curse struck the liquor cabinet behind her. Hermione half-turned when rumbling sounds followed. Shrieking in fright, she clung to her wand when the piece of furniture and its contents attacked her. Several bottles swung through the air, hitting her to the ground.

'Reducto!' she cast, falling on her behind painfully.

The cabinet and bottles were blown away as she just avoided the back of her skull from coming in contact with the ground hard.

Crack.

Tom Riddle Apparated right above her, his feet placed on either side of her hips. It made her unable to roll out of the way of the Disarmament Charm that he cast immediately. The short distance between them lessened her response time significantly, and to her horror, she felt her wand slip from her fingers. Triumph flew across Riddle's face when he caught it in his wandhand. Smirking, he pointed both wands firmly towards her chest. Hermione was leaning on her elbows, desperately thinking of a solution to the predicament she was in.

'How nice of you to lie down at my feet where you belong, sweetheart,' Riddle sneered, towering above her.

The solution presented itself with his demeaning comment.

Hermione's eyes flashed red. Tilting her head, she smiled sweetly as she raised her leg to kick him hard in a very sensitive area. All those years of physical combat training with Vishna certainly paid of beautifully as Tom tumbled down on top of her with a cry of pain. Quickly, Hermione found his wandhand, which was still holding onto the two wands tightly. She tried to yank them away, but was unsuccessful. Her attempts caused Tom to realise he needed to do something fast. His free hand grabbed her other wrist and his legs boxed her in, pinning her down beneath his body, while he moved his wandhand to get a clear shot of her.

Knowing she had no possibility to move out of the way of anything he would cast, Hermione did the only thing she could think of. She grabbed a firm hold of the other end of the two wands and cast a Stunner at the same time Tom tried to curse her. The effect of this unusual situation was baffling. A bright flash blinded her. A massive surge of power soared through her system, causing all her muscles to cramp severely. Hermione could tell the same thing happened to Tom, because she felt his grip around her wrist tighten like a wrench and he collapsed on top of her again, tensing up just like her. All her senses seemed to go on overload, and within seconds, she did not register anything anymore as if she existed in a dark vacuum.

The terrifying situation lasted only for a couple of seconds, but it felt like forever until a light shined at the end of the tunnel. Hermione blinked. Reality came crushing in. Her body seemed as if it had been on fire. Every single muscle hurt. Her fingers had clenched around the two wands in a manner that would require a crowbar to loosen them. Her right hand felt like it lost all blood supply to it, because Tom's hand was almost fused to the wrist next to her head. She coughed and heard someone cough right next to her ear. His short, rapid breaths brushed her neck since his face was buried inside her frizzy curls. Abruptly, Tom's head snapped up and they stared into each other's eyes, their noses a mere inch apart. Neither of them dared to cast a spell and risk the chance of the other doing the same and getting struck like that again. Tom broke the silence first.

'It seems we have a little situation here,' he said slowly.

'So it would appear,' Hermione responded evenly, not averting her eyes for a second, because she knew one brief lapse in concentration would undoubtedly result in getting hexed into oblivion.

'That was most … unusual. What do you suggest we do about this stalemate, Hermione?'

'Why don't you let go of the wands?' Hermione suggested sweetly.

Tom snorted. 'Fat chance, Granger. Besides, even if I wanted to, I don't think I can let go.'

Hermione frowned. The feeling in her hand that was holding the wands had not returned either. Fortunately for her, it wasn't her wandhand. Still, this wasn't very good news. She was kind of fond of being able to use both hands. Tom started to move.

'Stop or …' Hermione hissed threateningly.

He halted his movements, but she was too late. He'd already been able to shift his legs into a more stable position for him, making sure he kept her contained underneath his body.

'Move one muscle again and I'll curse you,' she added forcefully, gritting her teeth.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you, Hermione,' Tom whispered against her lips. 'I will not hesitate for a second if I think you're going to cast something. I don't care how uncomfortable that occurrence just yet was.'

'Me neither,' she responded, determined.

Silently, they glared at each other, hoping to see the other drop their concentration for a fraction of a moment, so they could cast a spell. Hermione's eyes were beginning to water from concentrating so hard, but she had no intention of slipping up now. No matter how uncomfortable her situation was.

'Can you let go of my wrist?'

Tom furrowed his brow. 'Why would I want to do that? Right now I have the upper hand with you pinned down underneath me. Who knows what you'll do with that hand if I release it?'

Hermione bit her lip. 'You have my word I won't attack you with it. I'll keep my arm right there.'

Tom looked at her questionably. He knew the Veritaserum was still working, though not for much longer. Besides, there were always ways to speak the truth and still do something undesirable. She was resourceful enough to think of something.

'Please Tom,' Hermione pleaded, her face wrenched in pain, 'my arm is killing me.'

His dark eyes softened in concern. 'Don't move,' he ordered.

'I won't,' Hermione whispered, her chin quivering.

Tom stared into her deer brown eyes as he tried to loosen his grip on her wrist. He was about to focus his attention on Hermione's wrist and his hand when he realised the loophole she'd given herself. His eyes flashed red.

'Clever, Hermione,' he said harshly, 'trying to get me to focus my attention on my non-dominant hand, so you can curse me since you never promised not to attack me with the other hand.'

'Well, aren't you the observant one,' Hermione snarled, immediately dropping the act out of irritation that he saw through her plan.

'Yessss,' Tom hissed, 'I am. And I have observed all sorts of wonderful things here tonight. Care to explain how your daughter is able to speak Parseltongue?'

'No,' Hermione replied curtly.

Tom scowled, but he realised quickly he asked the question wrong. 'Who's Rose's father?'

Hermione blinked. Her obvious attempt to fight the Veritaserum was a clear indication its effects were beginning to diminish. It made Tom's temper rise through the roof. He shook her roughly. 'Answer me, damn it!'

'You are,' Hermione whispered, frightened.

Tom stared at her. An unbelievable pain spread through his chest. Why did he feel this way? He already knew the answer to that question. It wasn't a surprise anymore. He'd known the moment he saw the girl speak Parseltongue. He'd known. There was no need to panic now. Still, his breathing became heavy and erratic. He was a father? Sweet Salazar, he couldn't breathe. A tight band constricted around his chest. He needed air – some fresh air, like now! The world had just turned upside down. Everything was swirling, dancing before his eyes. So … he closed them.

'Expelliarmus!' Hermione shouted.