Hi everyone!

Thank you for your reviews!

The last chapter marked the transition to the second part of the story, with Voldemort in the know of who Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny really are.

Have a nice day,

Perhentian

oOoOoOo

Chapter 27 - October 1995

Hermione jumped as she felt the couch sagging slightly beside her, and she looked up from the grimoire she was reading to the one who had just disturbed her. Harry. He had sat down near her and was already absorbed in the book he had brought with him. This was not the first time it had happened since the beginning of the school year, and Hermione knew that Harry's persistence in getting up early to take time to research a little before breakfast was not something normal for any member of their group apart from her.

"What's worrying you Harry?" Hermione asked with concern.

Harry took a few seconds to answer her, without looking up from his book.

"I want to summon Death again," he said. "I'm trying to improve the ritual we used this summer."

"I'm not sure it's wise," Hermione commented cautiously. "She has powers that we cannot comprehend…"

"But that we must understand," Harry countered. "Because her powers have already transformed us. Or at least me."

Hermione frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"If you come back, the Horcrux will come back too," Harry quoted. "This proves that something has changed. Because the Horcrux did not come back the last time. But Voldemort created it exactly the same way, so I am the one who induced the change."

Hermione nodded slowly. She had not really paid attention to the subtleties of what Death had said, considering that everything coming from the entity should be treated very cautiously.

"We cannot exclude the possibility that Death just lied to us," Hermione reminded.

"Nor the possibility that she told the truth," Harry said. "And if it's the truth, we need to know exactly how her powers had affected us."

Hermione shivered slightly. With their current bad luck, she strongly doubted that these changes would be to their advantage.

oOoOoOo

Lord Voldemort felt his hand move instinctively closer to his wand when he noticed Dolores Umbridge waddling through the halls of the Ministry on Saturday afternoon, no doubt reporting what was happening in Hogwarts to Fudge.

He could not deny that she was serving his interests. The less the wizards could defend themselves, the easier it would be for him to maintain his power over them. And in addition, her sheer incompetence was pushing his four enemies to waste time by giving students remedial classes during their stupid club. Club that Umbridge would probably soon try to get banned.

But the idea that there was such an appalling Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts was not a pleasant one. Lord Voldemort had coveted this job a long time ago, when he was still young. He had at that time wanted to build himself an important network of devoted servants, and keeping the position for a few years would have given him just that. And deep down, a part of him had also yearned to elevate the students above their general mediocrity. To show them what magic really was, what greatness could bring them.

Seeing that Hogwarts had fallen so low that Dolores Umbridge was now the Defence Against the Dart Art professor was just sad. Lord Voldemort had been quite satisfied to see Fudge finally depose Dumbledore from his position in the Wizengamot – the accomplishment of a lot of work on his side to reduce Dumbledore's influence in the Ministry –, but it seemed Fudge had been greedy enough to also try to control Hogwarts. And, even worse, Fudge was trying to control Hogwarts using someone as despicable as Dolores Umbridge.

Well, in the end, it was not really his problem. If Hermione wanted to do things legally and cleanly instead of just making her disappear, too bad for them. It was still better for him to have his four enemies losing time on teaching their fellow students and plotting against Umbridge than trying to find a way to kill him.

Arriving at his destination, Voldemort forced an amiable smile and confidently entered the office on his left without bothering to knock.

"Mr. McLaggen, we had an appointment if I am not mistaken," he said as a greeting.

Tiberius McLaggen looked up from the papers he was working on and plastered a smile as fake as Voldemort's one on his face – though McLaggen's was less convincing –.

"Mr. Morrello, please come in."

His tone was the one of a politician too sure of his power and his connections. Lord Voldemort advanced in the office, sat down, and let the silence hover for a few moments, discreetly observing the office he was in. Richly decorated in a slightly outdated, but still passable, fashion. Hunting photos with Rufus Scrimgeour and Bertie Higgs. A photo of a boy – probably his nephew according to Voldemort's intelligence reports – with a prefect badge. A fake Tudor Rose carefully protected by a glass. Several other trinkets without real value.

"What did you want to discuss exactly?" McLaggen asked with a hint of impatience.

"I have some questions regarding the law you want to push," Lord Voldemort said.

A law he absolutely needed to slightly change.

oOoOoOo

"So, how do you fell now that you're three quarters of a century old?" Ron asked on their way to breakfast.

"As you can see, I've never felt so young," Hermione said pointing at her body, which was just turning sixteen.

Ron and Ginny chuckled.

"Are we doing a party in the Room of Requirement tonight?" Harry asked.

"I don't think it's a good idea with Umbridge lurking in the castle," Hermione answered.

"You're such a spoilsports Hermione," Ron commented.

"She's right though…" Ginny started.

Ron looked betrayed.

"…but nothing prevents us from inviting Luna, Padma, Cho, Susan, Hannah, and a few other people into Gryffindor's common room," Ginny continued. "It's not usually done, but it's not explicitly forbidden either, is it Hermione?"

Hermione reluctantly nodded.

"Damn, that means I won't be able to easily avoid Lavender…" Ron sighed.

"What's wrong with Lavender?" Hermione asked, slightly surprised.

"She's starting to not really subtly hint that she would be really interested to date me…" Ron said with a sigh.

"Hadn't she waited until sixth year last time?" Hermione groaned.

She had no wish to hear Lavender call Ron "Ron-Ron" again. Lavender had been a nice person to talk to after leaving Hogwarts, maturity and war having toned down her often annoying exuberance, but now she was still a quite vain young girl.

"Ah, our dear Ron is starting to attract girls," Ginny mocked. "What are you planning to do, take her to Hogsmeade on a date?"

Harry and Ginny would not face that issue, everyone knew they were basically inseparable, but Hermione had to admit that she dreaded the moment morons like Cormac McLaggen would start to annoy her.

"She's just a child, Ginny," Ron answered indignantly. "And I have no desire to date Lavender again, thank you very much. I just have to find a diplomatic way to explain her that I'm not interested."

"Tell her you're gay," Ginny proposed.

"Very funny Ginny," Ron commented. "You know; I still haven't lost hope that I will be able to start a family this time too. Even if it is really creepy to imagine myself dating a young girl now, I will probably try it latter, if I find someone with whom I can communicate with on an equal footing."

"You can try McGonagall, she must be about the right age," Harry suggested while laughing.

Ron cast a jinx in Harry's direction, that Harry dissipated with a nonchalant hand movement, still laughing.

"What about you Hermione? Who are you going to target?" Ginny asked teasingly. "Slughorn?"

"As long as it's not Voldemort," Ron grumbled.

Hermione ignored them and pretended Ron had not said anything damnable.

oOoOoOo

Draco turned once more in his bed, unable to sleep. Since he had been back at Hogwarts he had felt like he was alive again. He had spent part of his summer with the Greengrasses, and then with the Zabinis, but at some point he had still needed to go back to Malfoy Manor.

Draco shivered. He had lived in the constant fear of being summoned again by the Dark Lord. Of suffering the Dark Lord's ire for reasons he was not even aware of. Of being faced with the indisputable magical superiority of the Dark Lord. He had thought he knew what a powerful man was when he was younger and admired his father, but now he had been brutally taught that there was no one as powerful as the Dark Lord.

Thankfully, he had not been summoned during the summer. But he had had the unpleasant honour of meeting his aunt when she had been allowed to visit her mother. And if Bellatrix was far from inspiring as much terror in Draco as the Dark Lord, she was still frighteningly insane. And she had managed to make Draco particularly terrified when she had had some point murmured in his ear that she hoped he would make his family proud by soon joining the Death Eaters.

And even now, weeks after, far away from home and its madness, he still remembered perfectly what Bellatrix had told him. The Dark Lord was an exceptional wizard, beyond anything Draco could have imagined, and he was supposed to bring purebloods back to their rightful place. Draco knew why his father, his aunt, and countless others supported him. And he knew he would also, one day. But the Dark Lord was just as cruel as he was powerful, and Draco would trade anything for the assurance of not having to directly serve him.

Draco turned once more in his bed, and his gaze wandered in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. He had heard rumours in the hallways, saying that there would be a small party there for the Mudblood's birthday. Fools. They were all fools, the Mudblood, Potter and the Weasleys. They were celebrating, not even knowing the direness of their situation, not realizing the dangerousness of the Dark Lord. Draco did not even give them a year before the Dark Lord killed them. Stupid fools.

oOoOoOo

Lord Voldemort watched with satisfaction the charms he had just cast to protect his new Horcrux. He had finally created a third one, the maximum number he could afford to create without risking of sinking into madness again. He had placed many traps around it. Not really to protect the Horcrux, but rather to trace anyone who would approach it just a bit too much. He needed to be alerted if his four enemies would try to get their hands on it.

What Hermione had told him had finally explained their strange knowledge of a lot of things they should not have been aware of. Coming from the future would of course help to know a lot about him and the wizarding society in general. Now that he was aware of that, he had made sure to use a less predictable object to create his Horcrux, and he was going to hide it in a place he would never have considered before.

But before doing that, he still needed to have a little chat with his various Death Eaters, especially the ones that he had gotten out of Azkaban. He had to make sure that the most unstable of them had understood they were not allowed to kill anyone – even under the guise of trying to please him –. He could not for the moment afford to anger Potter, Granger and the Weasleys. He first needed to make sure he had learnt everything he could about the future they came from.

oOoOoOo

Dumbledore watched Salazar Slytherin Castle from far away. Very far away. He had no desire to trigger any alarms by approaching too closely. All he was doing for the moment was looking around for clues. Tracking all the places where Voldemort could have hidden his Horcruxes.

He had first thought about powerful, symbolic places. The various residences of Merlin. Brocéliande forest. Wales magical source. But for the moment he had not found anything, and he was starting to think that perhaps he needed to look into places that would be more symbolic to Voldemort himself, or even Tom Riddle.

oOoOoOo

Hermione abruptly opened her eyes, as if alerted by a sixth sense. For a fraction of a second she saw nothing but darkness, before she could distinguish a figure leaning over her just beside her bed. Immediately her hand went under her pillow to catch her wand, but it was alarmingly not there.

Then her eyes got sufficiently acclimated to the darkness to realize that the figure was Voldemort, and that he was nonchalantly pointing her vine wand towards her.

"Your protective charms are clearly not as good as I was expecting, Hermione," he said. "I would be ashamed if I were you."

"It's Hogwarts," Hermione answered moodily. "You may be able to get in, but you cannot under any circumstances launch offensive spells without being spotted, and don't think I don't have protective charms around me. Now get out of my way so I can sit."

Hermione straightened up without waiting his answer, and Voldemort recoiled slightly, sitting down with a grimace of disdain at the end of her bed. With a wave of her hand Hermione turned her shapeless pyjamas into robes.

"Where's Crookshanks?" she asked accusingly.

Her cat always slept near her.

"Crookshanks?"

"My cat," Hermione provided. "The orange terror that should be exactly on the spot you are sitting on right now."

Voldemort raised a dubious eyebrow, that seemed to say that he failed to see how it was his problem. Hermione huffed, pulled her head out of the curtains around her bed, and cast a few wandless spells. Lavender and Parvati were thankfully sleeping soundly in their own beds, and Crookshanks was actually over her bed.

Then she closed the curtains and focused her attention on Voldemort.

"What the hell did you want?" she asked sternly.

The situation was somehow surreal, with Voldemort sitting at the end of her bed in the Gryffindor's dormitories in the middle of the penultimate night of September.

"I came to ask my questions regarding the future at a time I am sure I would not be subjected to Dolores Umbridge's insufferable existence," Voldemort answered. "From what date did you go back?"

Because of course it was perfectly normal to wake her up at two in the morning for that.

"Don't you want to go talk about all this somewhere else?" Hermione asked. "There are several nice rooms right next to Gryffindor Tower."

"I'm fine here," Voldemort said casually. "So?"

Hermione sighed, but did not protest anymore. She was bound by their vow to answer his questions anyway, and if he wanted to stay here instead of going to a more comfortable place, it was his loss.

"The 31st of October 2040," she answered. "The day the magical source got irreparably out of control."

"And when did you arrive in this timeline?"

"The 31st of October 1981. I'm not sure you remember the date, but wizards still celebrate it with glee."

It was too dark to be certain of it, but Hermione would have bet Voldemort rolled his eyes.

"Before or after I tried to kill Potter?" he asked.

"Before," Hermione answered. "A few seconds before."

"I had wondered how the look of a mere baby could contain so much hatred… What was your life like then? Were you fugitives?"

"Fugitives?" Hermione scoffed. "We were heroes."

Funny how he would assume that he would have been ruling the world.

"Heroes?" he repeated slowly. "Why would you be heroes?"

"Because we killed you," Hermione answered.

It was slightly disturbing to say that, especially to the man who both was and was not the Voldemort they had faced in their youth.

"Impossible," Voldemort reacted haughtily. "You may have known where my other Horcruxes were, but there was still Potter."

"You take care of killing that Horcrux yourself. You asked Harry to sacrifice himself to spare the other combatants," Hermione answered slowly. "He was seventeen years old and he sneaked away from us, all alone, to find you. He knew he was an Horcrux, and he was ready to die to give us a chance to defeat you. You cast the Avada Kedavra on him, but only your Horcrux got killed in the end. Nagini was killed in the ensuing battle. And then Harry defeated you and the war ended. It was the 2nd of May 1998."

Voldemort looked doubtful.

"Potter defeated me?" he said. "Potter is an acceptable wizard, but he would have had no chance to defeat me in a duel when he really was seventeen."

It was not really a duel. Rather a single exchange of spells. And the outcome was mostly due to the intricacies resulting from Harry being the master of the Elder wand. But that information Hermione could keep hidden, as it was linked to the way they went back in time.

"You were not like… that, in our first life," she said instead, vaguely gesturing towards him. "The ritual you used to come back was not the same. I guess you had not wanted to sacrifice your Horcruxes, or even part of them. Or perhaps you simply had not wanted to reveal them to Pettigrew, who was then helping you come back. And you were… unstable. Insane. As you were in the late 70s. Even more, as you had created a seventh Horcrux with Harry. You were both more and less dangerous."

"Why both more and less dangerous?" Voldemort asked calmly.

Hermione hesitated a moment.

"Your decisions were hasty. Motivated by hatred and fear. You wanted to rule and you would have done anything, even killing half the wizarding population, to get that. But you also made mistakes, several mistakes you won't make now. Unfortunately."

Voldemort smiled victoriously.

"You regret, don't you? To have chosen a ritual that gave me back the soul pieces of my Horcruxes. It's even strange. Why did you choose this ritual? You had to know that giving me back my Horcruxes would make me more powerful. Especially with one Horcrux still remaining intact."

"I thought the ritual would destroy the Horcruxes at the same time as their container," Hermione grudgingly admitted.

Voldemort's smile grew larger.

"That's quite a blunder."

"It was my first resurrection ritual!" Hermione felt the need to justify herself.

"You won't hear me complain about it."

"Yes, I won't have expected you to," Hermione said wryly.

And she glared at his smile.

"You are in a suspiciously good mood," she noted.

"Because you will tell me everything I need to know to win this time."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. She remembered vividly the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. The Snatchers. The terror that the Death Eaters inspired to the common witches and wizards.

"Congratulations then," she said bitterly. "Let us know slightly in advance so we could evacuate our loved ones, would you? As thanks for resurrecting you so well."

"As if you won't stubbornly stay here and oppose me for the mere divertissement of annoying me."

"The mere divertissement of annoying you?" Hermione repeated with outrage. "That's what you call trying to prevent you from killing half of the wizarding population?"

"Have I really done that in your first life?" Voldemort asked with evident interest.

"More or less. You killed part of your political opponents. A part of the Order of the Phoenix also. Numerous Mudbloods, and even more Muggles. Some of your own servants also."

"And you believe I will do the same foolish thing now?" he asked. "Risking a coalition against me?"

Hermione nearly gaped at him, and was once again reminded that this Voldemort was indeed not the same as the Voldemort they had killed. He was not more human, no. But he was smarter. And probably quite capable of achieving a coup without anyone even thinking about protesting.

"Even with a more discreet approach, Dumbledore won't be fooled," she said.

"Dumbledore not being fooled won't change anything," Voldemort said with evident satisfaction. "Fudge is currently in the process of discrediting him completely. But let's not talk about that Hermione, I still have a lot of questions to ask you. Give me a summary of the highlights of your first life."

"Can't we do that at a moment that is not in the middle of the night?"

"No, except if you wish to break your vow of course."

Hermione glared at him but complied.

"The 31st of October went the same way, and then nothing interesting happened for ten years," she began. "Unlike this time, we of course did not know for Pettigrew, and he continued to live with the Weasleys, Sirius stayed in prison, and Harry remained with his aunt's family."

"They were Muggles, weren't they?" Voldemort pointed out scornfully.

Hermione nodded without elaborating. The Dursleys were not really the best advocates for the Muggle's cause, even she could recognize it.

"Do you remember Quirrell?" she continued. "Our first year went broadly the same way. Except that Quirrell and you were the first ones to reach the mirror, and Harry, Ron and myself had more troubles getting there, leaving only Harry to face you. Harry retrieved the stone due to the convoluted way Dumbledore had charmed the mirror, Quirrell attacked him, but Harry burnt him and you were forced to flee away. And Dumbledore got the stone back."

"Ha yes, this whole burning thing happened here also, didn't it?" Voldemort mused. "And tell me Hermione, how could Potter burn Quirrell? This has nothing to do with the Horcrux…"

"It's due to Lily Potter's blood protection. When she gave her life to protect him from you. In this life we isolated this protection to avoid its side effects, especially as its constant fight against the Horcrux inside Harry would have made both of you suffer when being close to each other. In our first life, you had yourself cancelled its effect by using Harry's blood in your resurrection ritual, but I will come back to this later on if that's fine for you."

He gestured her to continue.

"During our second year, you were a mere wraith again, but Lucius Malfoy introduced your Diary inside Hogwarts."

A flash of fury passed in Voldemort's eyes, but he did not interrupt her.

"The diary ended up in Dumbledore's hands," Hermione said. "I don't think he understood right away exactly what it was, but that's how he finally managed to learn about your Horcruxes I suspect."

"Lucius is very lucky to be quite useful as a politician..." Voldemort murmured.

Hermione almost felt sorry for Lucius Malfoy. Almost.

"In our third year, Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban."

"Really?" Voldemort asked, surprised. "How?"

"Nothing impressive," Hermione answered. "He was an unregistered animagus and..."

"...Dementors have little effect on them," Voldemort completed. "Nothing impressive indeed. Why wait so long though?"

Hermione wondered briefly what would Voldemort do if he somehow ended up in Azkaban. It was not easy to escape the prison, especially without a wand, but she was pretty sure he could manage to do so without too many issues…

"Sirius Black had nothing left to leave for, especially as he could not approach Harry, being a fugitive. But he managed to learn by accident that Pettigrew was still alive. His desire for vengeance was strong enough to have him break out of Azkaban."

Voldemort did not comment.

"So Sirius Black went after Peter Pettigrew," Hermione continued. "We ended up in the middle of a confrontation between them with Harry and Ron. Sirius Black convinced us that Peter was indeed the traitor, but the rat managed to escape and Sirius remained a fugitive. Peter, however, left for Albania, compelled by your call. And together you started to work on Cassius' resurrection ritual."

"Cassius'?" Voldemort wondered. "Why not Noruo's?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"How am I supposed to know?" she asked. "It was the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and you managed to have one of your Death Eaters, Barty, enrolled as a teacher in Hogwarts under the disguise of Polyjuice. He appeared to everyone as Mad Eye Moody, and managed to enlist Harry as the fourth champion."

"For the blood of the enemy part? The idea was to use one of Tournament to discreetly bring Potter to me?"

Hermione had to pause before answering, reluctantly impressed by his fast understanding.

"Yes, the third task," she agreed. "You came back, but Harry managed to escape, and he told about you being back. But of course Fudge, this idiot, refused to believe him, and we ended up dealing during our fifth year with a Ministry denying your return. You were obsessed with the prophecy at that time, and you arranged to send Harry to retrieve it for you."

"Why didn't I got it myself?"

"Your magic was quite unstable due to the absurd amount of Horcruxes you had, and you were probably lucid enough not to try to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries on your own. Or perhaps you believed a dozen of your Death Eaters would be able to deal with six teenagers. Spoiler alert, they didn't. The prophecy got destroyed, some of your Death Eaters got captured when the Order got there to help, and Fudge saw you fight Dumbledore in the Ministry's entrance hall, so he was forced to admit you were back."

Voldemort looked somehow disgusted, probably by his own failure.

"But it gave you free reign for terrorizing the wizarding population. Your Death Eaters began to spread terror, at the same time as Dumbledore finally started to go after your Horcruxes. He picked up the ring from the Gaunt house, and at the end of our sixth year he tried to get the Locket from the cave with Harry. They recovered a Locket, but it was a fake one, and when they got back to Hogwarts, Snape killed Dumbledore."

A smile bloomed on Voldemort's lips.

"Is there any chance Potter will share this memory with me?" Voldemort asked.

"None," Hermione answered.

And she went back to her summary of their life.

"With Dumbledore dead the ministry quickly fell under your control, and Harry, Ron, and I became fugitives in search of your Horcruxes. We first found the real Locket. It had ended up in Umbridge's hands at that point."

"Umbridge put her disgusting hands on my Horcrux?" Voldemort said with obvious disgust.

He looked outraged.

"Oh yes she did," Hermione confirmed. "She claimed the "S" was standing for Selwyn... We stole it from her and destroyed it. Then we learned that the Cup was inside Bellatrix Lestrange's vault and we recovered and destroyed it too. At that point in time you understood that we were after your Horcruxes and you rushed to Hogwarts. It confirmed that one of them was there, and we got into Hogwarts. The Diadem burned in a Fiendfyre that consumed the room it was hidden in."

Voldemort seemed to grow pale at hearing about their Horcruxes hunt, but it was hard to confirm in the ambient darkness.

"Then you besieged Hogwarts, and asked Harry to sacrifice himself, which he did because it was the only way to kill you."

"How have you learnt that Potter was my Horcrux?" Voldemort asked.

Hermione hesitated. She would have liked to protect Snape. But the vow prevented her from lying, and there was no way she could hide his involvement here.

"Snape told Harry about this Horcrux on Dumbledore's orders."

Now Voldemort looked furious.

"So Severus really is on Dumbledore's side..." he said lugubriously. "But why? He has always been more interested in my vision of the world than in the old coot's, even when I was… unstable."

"He loved... and still loves, I think, Lily Potter born Evans," Hermione answered. "He doesn't know that you have kept your promise and asked her to step aside."

"And how do you know that?" Voldemort asked, quite displeased.

"That's what Harry sees when the Dementors get too close to him," Hermione explained. "His parents' murder."

Voldemort sighed exasperatedly.

"Seriously? Severus went to Dumbledore for a mere Mudblood?" he said with disdain.

Hermione glared at him furiously.

"For a mere Mudblood?" she repeated slowly. "You're a bloody hypocrite Tom Marvolo Riddle!"

"Don't call me that!" Voldemort snarled.

He had thrown himself on her, and she was now laying on her back just under him.

"How dare you said that name!"

He was furious, and she wondered for a moment if he would try to strangle her, blinded by his fury.

"It's your name though," Hermione answered forcefully. "Not the ridiculous title you've created for yourself."

Voldemort moved even closer to her, his eyes shining with anger.

"And all your doctrine on Mudbloods is really ridiculous!" Hermione continued. "Utter bullshit. The three most powerful wizards today are not purebloods. Neither Dumbledore, nor Harry, nor you!"

"Mudbloods spend their time bowing down to the purebloods Hermione," Voldemort said patronizingly.

"That's because it's their only way to get something in this world ruled by purebloods! This deprives the United Kingdom of many talented wizards who would bring a lot of value if they were not constantly put aside due to stupid prejudices!"

It seemed to amuse Voldemort.

"You are naiver than I thought Hermione, if you believe that. There has always been and there will always be prejudices. What is the point of trying to change that if it is easier to just benefit from it?"

"Oh… I really don't know… What about avoiding to have the whole prejudiced turning up on you in the end?" Hermione answered.

"Nonsense Hermione. I may have failed to reign in the masses the previous time, but I won't this one."

He looked quite convinced of it, with his infuriating superior smirk again plastered on his infuriatingly perfect face.

"Arrogant, aren't we?" Hermione snorted. "You should try to reign in your ego, it may suit your face better."

"Suit my face better? My, my, and here I thought you had liked my face quite a lot the last time we have been alone together."

"Excuse me?" Hermione gasped.

He would not dare talk about what had happened last winter… Hermione gaze held Voldemort's carmine one, forbidding him to continue in this direction, but it seemed to only fuel the dark wizard's smirk.

"You know, when you could not help but kiss me," Voldemort dared.

"I did not!" Hermione replied with indignation.

"And yet..." Voldemort trailed.

"You're the one who kissed me!" Hermione accused.

"I did not," Voldemort said.

"You did!"

"No, I did not. If I had kissed you, it would have been more… like that."

He closed the – small – gap between their lips, and kissed her as if nothing else mattered. Hermione's breath got caught in her throat, and her heart seemed to miss a few beats, before starting to beat wildly again. She could feel his body pressed against hers, and despite everything that was wrong about this she could not help but answer to it, her mouth instinctively reacting to Voldemort's, trying in vain to regain control of… something. Her sensations. Her body. Her mind.

There was a sudden cracking sound, before Crookshanks fell on Voldemort's back, startling both of them. Voldemort sat up, immediately alert, his wand pointed not on the cat but outside Hermione's bed.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked quietly.

But before Voldemort could answer a thud was heard, and then the curtains of her bed opened on Harry's and Ginny's faces, wands aimed at Voldemort.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, looking suspiciously at Voldemort.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione countered.

If she was not mistaken, it must be somewhere near three o'clock in the morning.

"The map," Ginny answered.

She did not elaborate on why Harry and her were not sleeping at three in the morning though.

"Is it really impossible to have a peaceful discussion in this castle?" Voldemort said with contempt as he rose from her bed.

"Your protective charms are clearly not as good as I was expecting," Hermione said with a satisfied smirk. "I would be ashamed if I were you."

Voldemort did not even spare her a look, and only tossed her her wand back.

"I've repaired the relics," he announced to the audience. "But you surely know that as long as the deviation has already started, repairing the relics won't be enough to correct it."

"True," Hermione agreed. "But it will give us a little more time at least."

Then Voldemort went to exit the dorms.

"Hey, wait!" Hermione called after him. "You still haven't said what you knew regarding the magical sources. What you hinted about at the Club Nox."

It was after all one of the reasons that had pushed them to make a new unbreakable vow with Voldemort. The dark wizard turned towards her, and a slight smile played on his lips.

"A magical source does not need any external objects to be stable. The very existence of the relics and their link to the magical source is the problem, not the fact that the relics were damaged."

And he left.

oOoOoOo

AN: Next chapter in two weeks.