AN: So I sort of sat right down and 'finished' this. Thank you for all the reviews! They mean so much to every writer. I wish I had this kind of cheering section when I was writing my original work! I'd put out three books a year and finally be able to write full time! You guys are amazing and you make my day.

The funeral was tasteful, but exceedingly well planned…almost as if someone had been arranging things for months. It was precisely correct and ran with ruthless efficiency.

If Tom ever took over the wizarding world, Helena was going to be the minister of something that sounded unimportant but was vital. The woman was bloody brilliant.

Her grief was subdued and appropriate, but not overdone. The ministry had looked into the death of course, and found that her husband had liver and heart failure…most likely from long term abuse of pain potions and absinthe.

Tom couldn't decide if the rebounding curse had actually pushed him over the edge or just weakened him enough so that his natural vices could take the man.

It was by far the cleverest murder he'd ever encountered.

He kept his own face solemn, which was better than many of the funeral party. It seemed that there were a great many people who were overjoyed that the man finally kicked off.

Tom watched Abraxas carefully. He seemed a bit distraught, but fully resigned. Hermione sat between them and the young Malfoy heir held her hand tightly. Many of the pureblood matrons were watching that interaction. Tom didn't know what to feel in that moment. On one hand, he didn't like Hermione touching other people at all, and it seemed she was always doing so. On the other…he disliked that Abraxas was unhappy, and some small spurt of guilt might have influenced his decision to allow the other boy the comfort of having Hermione near…for a short while.

The dead man was entombed in the family cemetery and a quiet tea was served for the families that had been invited. The Goyle patriarch gave Helena an odd, questioning look, to which she managed a few tears which immediately made the man scurry away.

The guests left after what seemed like an eternity. Tom went to collect Hermione from Abraxas. She was sitting beside him, looking very pretty in another new set of robes…how many had Helena ordered for all of them?

Abraxas gave his arm a squeeze. "Thank you for being here today Tom."

Tom snorted and returned the gesture. "Thanks for lending my witch to you temporarily to keep the vultures from descending with marriageable daughters you mean."

Abraxas batted his eyelashes at Tom. "Well, if you'd stood as close to me as she had it would have done the trick as well…with my father's reputation and your good looks everyone would assume that the apple didn't fall far from the tree." His laugh was bitter. Tom gripped his shoulder. "The place where you are different from your father is your heart. You are a canny, manipulative bastard, but you have a good heart." Tom was shocked to realize he actually meant those words…

Abraxas punched him in the arm lightly. "Thanks."

Tom nodded. "You are welcome." He offered his arm to Hermione. "I think Mother and son need to speak without guests. We'll be in our rooms."

Abraxas snorted. "If you think I haven't noticed you end up in one room, you are quite mistaken."

Tom felt the warmth and good humor drain from his face like it had never been there. Hermione held his arm and stepped in. "It isn't what you think…"

The blond laughed. "It's exactly what I think, if it's just the two of you holding each other and sleeping." He cupped Hermione's face. "I envy the two of you sometimes. But don't fret. I won't tell anyone that you are only so strong because you are together."

Tom let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank you. People wouldn't understand."

"They would if they thought about it. You have no one but each other and it has been like that since you were children. It makes sense in an odd sort of way. You are almost two halves of the same person. So I knew when Hermione was holding my hand today, it was both of you."

Tom laughed. "Don't take it too far! If you want hand holding you'll have to ask her."

The blond laughed as they walked to their rooms.

TRTRTRTR

Abraxas entered the drawing room where his mother was writing exquisite thank you notes in her elegant handwriting.

She looked up when he entered and put her quill back into the ink carefully. "How are you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I am…a bit numb I suppose. He is…he was not a good father, but he was mine and I'm not certain how I should feel now that he's gone."

"I didn't ask you how you should feel…I asked how you do feel."

"Relived. It's horrible to admit it, but he frightened me when I was young, and every time he walked into the room I knew something would happen that would hurt or embarrass me. He killed any residual filial devotion that I might have had."

She gave a tiny relived sigh. "I am glad that you are not unhappy. I love you so much my son."

"I love you too Mother."

"I want to speak to you about your marriage."

Abraxas groaned. "Have the vultures descended already?"

"They will. You know as well as I that if something had happened to you before, your father would have been available to have another child…hopefully with another woman. But there would have been another chance for an heir, as unlikely as it seems. Now you are all that is left of the Malfoy line. The curse that is over this house will protect you to some extent, but understand that you must marry quickly and beget an heir as soon as possible. There are many who would profit from your death my son…the Malfoy fortune is a vicious motivator to some. Do you have any preference in a wife?"

He sighed. "I like the Granger girl, but I'm not in love with her and she's surely not in love with me. I believe that she will eventually come to an understanding with young Riddle, but it might be somewhat unconventional. She might even come to love someone else eventually, but I think that would be years in the making." He sighed. "Normally I would be quite content to wait. "

"Not if you wish to remain alive. Helga Olivander is attractive and available…she was a few years ahead of you."

"And quite annoying if my memory serves." Abraxas sighed and rested his head on his mother's shoulder. "I suppose she'll do. Does she know about the curse? I won't lure in some foolish girl without a proper warning."

"She does and I think her…natural inclinations will keep her from being too disappointed. I suggest removing the fidelity charm directly after the child is born and letting her have enough time and money so that she gets caught. Then you can put her aside quietly at one of the family estates where she can live the way she prefers."

"I wonder if she's canny enough to respect that being in the contract. It could be an undisclosed amendment in the agreement."

"I think not. She enjoys pulling the wool over other people's eyes a bit much."

Abraxas shrugged. "Very well. Don't expect me to play the smitten suitor, but if you can come up with an agreement that won't bankrupt the vaults, I suppose she'll do."

Helena took his hand. "I am sorry for bringing you into this family my boy. If I had known of the curse before my marriage…"

"Which is why father chose you. You didn't know about the curse, didn't know about his preferences…had no idea about anything. But at least you loved me. It's more than I can say for the rest of them."

He looked toward the guest rooms. "And it's more than just everyone gets. I will not repine Mother. I will do what I must. My bride will be aware that I do not intend to give up my friendships...and if she'd quiet in her affairs I won't argue as long as she doesn't present me with a long line of bastards."

Helena laughed. "Oh my son! Do you think I'd do that to you? No, the girl prefers those of the gentle sex. I think it is a fine fit. You reputation will guard hers' and I'm certain you will not make many demands on her once the child is born."

Abraxas grimaced. It might have been nice, to have someone that he could speak with at least. Still, his mother had endured a similar arrangement. He could too. "I will make no demands on her at all, I assure you."

"It is hardly a perfect solution, but it is one that will keep you alive my love. I won't have some distant cousin assassinating you for your vault."

TRTRTR

Hermione returned to Hogwarts with a slight twinge of guilt. She'd been so busy over the break that she'd neglected her studies for the first time…well since she, Harry, and Ron had been on the Horocrux hunt.

She settled into the library with a sigh. Madam Pince gave her a half-scowl for the noise, but there was little heat behind it.

She was quietly comparing her notes to some old manuscripts that Perenelle had sent copies of when Professor Lestrange walked into the library with a stack of magazines and a terrible attitude.

She tossed them at the librarian and caught sight of Hermione. "You owe me a detention girl."

Hermione looked up from her calculations and sighed. "Of course. May I ask what for?"

"Your total lack of respect for your professors. Some of my Ravenclaws found letters in your handwriting, describing my faults as a professor. Letters between you and Riddle. I expect both of you at the grounds at ten tonight. You'll be spending tonight in the forbidden forest with the groundskeeper, Ogg."

Hermione watched the woman go.

Madam Pince looked worried. "You didn't put anything incriminating down on paper did you dear?" She gave a look to the door the woman had just exited. "I can see why you dislike her." She used her wand to restore the magazines to their former perfection, but still glared at the absent professor.

"I didn't write those letters, but I suspect she senses my very real dislike and feels that she hasn't properly punished me for it. Perhaps once she has she'll stop assigning these detentions and we can all get on with life. I'm sure the other Professors are tired of her assigning them for me coughing too loudly in the halls or failing to pass the mustard during lunch."

Madam Pince nodded. "I'd let Slughorn know all the same."

Hermione nodded, but didn't comment. "I'll tell someone. Thank you."

She went directly to Professor Dumbledore's office. "Tom and I have detention tonight for a stack of letters that we supposedly wrote. They are undoubtedly fake unless I've taken to writing in my sleep."

He looked up from a stack of correspondence. "I see, well there are more than enough things to do in my room if you don't mind…"

"Professor Lestrange assigned us to Ogg. I think she wants to see us do some dirty task without magic."

The Professor sighed. "I suppose it won't kill either of you, but I don't like for you to endure this for no better reason that she's carrying a grudge."

His eyes asked more than one question, but he didn't slip into her mind…which was just as well. The next time he did that she was going to surprise him with one of the sorting hat's songs.

"I suppose we should go. I'm well aware of the things in the forest, and Ogg isn't the brightest man on Earth, but he's formidable in his element. We'll both have our wands."

"And I will be waiting for you to return."

HGHGHG

Hermione was incredibly glad that Hagrid had not yet found the giant Spider Aragog as she walked into the forest with Ogg. (She made a mental note to nip that fiasco in the bud. Obviously Aragog had never killed a human, but his family was another matter, and she wouldn't forget the Battle of Hogwarts any time soon.)

Even without the threat of giant, man-eating spiders, there were still plenty of unfriendly beasts. Giants still roamed Great Britain for one thing, as did trolls. There were also packs of wolves in the forest, they by-product of werewolves mating at the full moon. They were wolf in shape, but unlike their parents they were quite human in mind…which meant that they had the option to be very good or very bad and everything in between.

Still she and Tom were armed, and Ogg was a capable escort in his way. Spending the evening harvesting fungi wasn't a bad way to spend a detention.

Tom was peering into the forest. "We're going to have to do something about her you know."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose. I had hoped the potion that kept her away from you would be enough. I wonder why her husband doesn't protest the fact that she's spending ten months out of the year teaching at a boarding school."

"If she was my wife, I'd protest that it wasn't twelve."

At that moment Ogg fell to the forest floor.

Hermione and Tom were back to back within seconds, shields up and ready, and Hermione quickly cast a revelo spell. Instead of screaming that there were three of them, she conjured eye-blinding pink paint and splashed it in the general direction of the last noise she heard.

A man's protest was heard as some of the paint splashed over his form. Hermione quickly followed it with a nasty cutting hex.

Tom followed her lead and splashed yellow paint the next time heard a noise. A female form cursed loudly as Tom hit her with a reducto. The paint disappeared so they'd figured out a spell to remove it.

A potion bottle shattered right outside the shield and a mustard-yellow fog started seeping through it. Hermione produced a wind that sent it in the direction of the one who had tossed the bottle, but the clever foe was already gone.

Hermione muttered. "Read my mind."

She felt Tom slip in and pictured him closing his eyes. He did and she used a bright light temporally blind their opponents.

She used the break to cast a patronus and sent it for Dumbledore.

The assailants used her break in concentration and pounded their shield mercilessly. Hermione tried the paint trick, altering the composition so it wouldn't come off with magic. She managed to tag all three of them with the bright paint as Tom tossed out jinx after jinx.

She strengthened the shields and started using the nastiest curses she could think of. The entrail-expelling curse, the impero, and tortura…an Italian curse that made one vomit up their own stomach.

She landed quite a few of them, and Tom was dueling beautifully. His quick reactions and more powerful spells left even the grown wizards that were attacking them breathless.

A sharp crack alerted Hermione that someone was near, but as she turned, it was not Dumbledore as she'd hoped, but a handsome blond man with a wickedly amused look in his eye.

"Well, well, well. I have been quite annoyed with my dear Lestrange here for her tardiness in bringing the two of you to me. I thought she was overestimating you both when she asked for two of my best fighters to help bring you in." He grinned in a way that wasn't even close to sane. "I suppose I owe her an apology."

Hermione kept a firm grip on her wand. "Well, now we've met."

"Indeed. You and the boy are quite interesting. My spies have told me all about you. Odd ducks, both of you. They don't know what the boy is, beyond skilled and powerful, but some of my spies insist that you are a new breed of seer."

"Fine sort of Seer that allows herself to get caught by a dictator."

She was stalling. Dumbledore might have never seen a patronis used for the purpose of messages before, but he would surely be on his way…hopefully with Flitwick and some of the other professors.

"Indeed. But then, sight is not the most consistent gift. But it is useful, especially to one like myself."

He pulled out the deathstick and she sucked in a bit more air than she'd meant to. "Oh!" His face was ecstatic. "You know what this is?"

She tried to stand a little taller. "Yes." She looked at him. She'd never faced a wizard with this wand. Her own wand felt warm in her hand though, almost comforting.

His eyes narrowed. "You are not afraid."

She laughed, and it was that slightly unhinged sound she'd heard before out of her mouth. Living two lives wasn't very good on one's sanity. "No." Her voice still bubbled with laughter. "I'm not afraid of death, so I have already mastered it. I don't need three hallows to do it."

"Clever girl. Did you parents seek the hallows?"

"No. Someone who was trying to kill me did once. He found one of them. Of course, then he died and it was lost. Just as it always is."

"Which of them? Tell me girl!" His voice was strident.

She heard Dumbledore coming with what sounded like the centaur herd and half the school. Grindelwald's men looked uncomfortable under their coat of paint.

"Sir, we must leave or call reinforcements."

Hermione smiled. "The cloak. I once saw the cloak in Australia."

The dark wizard smiled in a manic kind of way and waved his people off. "Sweet girl. You make my dreams reality. I will see you again. Until then, ado!"

He bowed mockingly as Dumbledore broke through the underbrush and disappeared with a resounding crack.

She leaned against Tom, and he held her. He whispered, "What was that about?"

She shook her head and looked at Dumbledore, the raised a quick silencing charm around them. "He has the deathstick."

Dumbledore's eyes were wide as the centaurs patrolled the area.

"What happened to Ogg?"

"Non-verbal stunner I think." Tom was practically holding her up. She was shaking. He kissed her cheek. "Dippet is going to have to find a new Divination professor. Lestrange was the spy in Hogwarts."

"He said spies." Her voice sounded rough. She cleared it and tried again. "He said he had spies…when we talked."

"You kept him well occupied."

Tom stroked her head. "After we fought his men to a standstill. I think he intended to kidnap us and find out what he could, then obliviate us."

"That sounds like him. So the two of you managed to keep him and three of his people at bay?"

Tom shrugged. "He never lifted his wand. But Hermione and I managed the other three."

"I'm pretty sure I caught Lestrange with a tortura. If she doesn't know the counter she's going to have to regrow her stomach."

Dumbledore twinkled. "I suppose it is a fate well earned…and it will do her the great favor of insuring she keeps her girlish figure a while longer."

Hermione pulled herself erect and took a deep breath. "Some people will do anything to stay thin."