A/N: A rewrite of my story Loyalty Across Time in which a sister is taken from a brother, and the wizarding world is ripped apart.

The gods gave us one soul, but many bodies. Many lives over to find the other half, the true half of our heart and only then would we be truly whole.

Love has no boundary, or barrier, or single definition that cannot be overcome by sheer absolute care for one another. There are ups and downs and people who would stand in your way, but yet nothing can dictate who you love or how you love someone.

Love is in the eye and heart of the beholder, and it will not be contained for anyone. The gods would be sure to make this clear to all who would harm this connection of souls in which they have blessed.

~.~

Wool's Orphanage, 1926

Merope Gaunt

Children born to those of magical people were blessed by the Gods, this was a known fact within the ancestor's minds of those of Pureblooded peoples who populated the magical world. Those who knew of the old ways. In this regard, they also knew of their fates when it came to children. Being as they were, those with the mark of the God and Goddess upon their souls were cursed as well with having very much trouble baring their children to term as the child had need of sharing the warmth of their mother's magical core until they themselves could grow one of their own. As a consequence, living twins were rarely seen within this blessed community of peoples as they slowly but surely sapped the life from their mother's body. Killing themselves as well as the woman who held them safely within her womb until death do them part, that is if the mother decided to give her unborn children even a smidgen of a chance at a possible life. Sadly, this was a very rare occurrence as the years wore on and those of Pure magical descent decided to out an end to their twin pregnancies in favor of birthing a single child who would have a much surer chance at living to term and furthering their vanishing lines.

As it was, Merope Gaunt of the Pureblood Slytherin line, so consumed by the love she held the muggle man who had abandoned her and her unborn children, had decided her and her children's lives were worth giving up as Tom Riddle had indeed left them. Heartbroken and alone, it was the only option she would consider. Nothing, not even the children who would take after their father in their looks, could keep her on this mortal earth, at least this was her mindset when she merely felt them kicking within her womb and was not yet faced with their tiny faces in her arms. The Slytherin line would die with her as it was highly improbable her brother would ever bare children upon a woman, vile in personality as he was in physical aspects. Doomed to death as her children were pulled from her heavily bleeding body, all the magic in the world couldn't save her even if she had been the most powerful of her line and not merely a squib with only enough magical core to allow them that small chance at life. Her precious things were held together by her boy's hand latched onto her girl's foot, pulled from her shivering body and into the world so that she could smile at the black haired squalling things she had birthed. Rapture wrote itself across her face at the impossibility they were.

"A miracle," she whispered to them with her fading strength, her son and daughter placed in her arms by the midwives of Wool's Orphanage. "My little Tom and Hermina, blessed by the Gods." Suddenly, even as the woman felt her little magic draining away from her rapidly and latching onto the warm skin of her precious ones, the one she herself had never been able to tap into as much as her father would have liked, she wished she could have watched them grow to be the great children she knew they would be. A gut feeling a mother just knows when first setting eyes on the fragile fruit of her womb. She would never regret birthing them into the world, the only good thing she had ever contributed to it in honor of the Gods who she prayed to in her last moments to look after.

Twin sets of stormy grey eyes looked into their mother's as the light faded from her eyes, the Goddess all the while whispering of their affection and adoration of the two children who would do great things for the world they were born into.

If only their lives hadn't of been torn apart by one mortal man, causing said world to burn with the pain of the one left behind, and then with the vengeance of the one taken.

~.~

Godric's Hollow, 1981

Tom Marvolo Riddle

Tom Riddle, the dreaded Lord Voldemort who had spent years upon years terrifying the denizens of magical Britain stood outside of a brightly lit house on the street of Godric's Hollow, feeling the necklace of his sister burning into the skin of his chest as if trying to burrow into his heart. As if it were a living thing, the residuals of her magic even after all this time as potent as if she herself were held against his body.

He remembered so clearly the day he had gifted it to her, made especially for her by way of goblin forging and hard earned muggle money he had slaved away and stored throughout the years with the explicit purpose of giving her something pretty outside of the dirty orphanage they had been raised in. He closed his eyelids as he always did before a hit, no matter how big or small, and recalled the echoing of her laughter on the day of their shared sixteenth birthday in a deserted stairwell of Hogwarts.

Her beautiful face the twin to his own had lit up so bright it could have shamed the sun as she asked him to clasp the snake slithering through the small skull above her breast, the small crown of emerald flowers glinting in the torchlight as Hermina turned to throw herself into his arms in happiness. He could feel that small snake hiss it's love to the one slithering about on his own exposed arm by the rolled up sleeves of his school robes. The charmed muggle ink having been stabbed onto his arm differing only by the absence of those flowers feminizing his sister's new sigil.

Those same flowers that had glinted in the headmaster's office along with the ruby eyes made of a single drop of both their blood combined, dangling in Albus Dumbledore's hand as Headmaster Dippet had informed him the necklace was all that was left of his most beloved Mina. The sister he had been bound to from the moment they exited their mother's womb, gone in an instant. All being left of her, his own memories, and that symbol of their love and heritage.

He still to this day remembered nothing but those glittering stones transferred into his own limp hand, and something gleaming in the blue eyes that had given them back to him.

"Albus Dumbledore," Lord Voldemort whispered upon the night air as he once more opened his eyes and drug himself out of the pool of endless black that resided within his heart, cursing that man who had stood there with a sorrowful glint in his eye as he watched the boy who had always had a cocky mask written upon his face dissolve into the only tears he had ever wept within the halls of Hogwarts. But that glint could never have masked that smidgen of triumph residing in the depths of that all- knowing man who believed he had averted a most horrible prophecy regarding the burning of the world.

How wrong he would prove to be in the years to come after that singular action…

The handsome young man silently made his way to the doorstep by way of the flower lined sidewalk, clicking three times on the brass knocker adorning the middle of the heavy door. Sliding his wand down his arm with a small sliver of wandless magic, he waited for the black haired father with wire rimmed spectacles to open his home to him.

"Peter-" James Potter said while swinging open the door to his hidden home with a puzzled smile on his face, until he saw who brazenly stood there and his face paled within an inch of his life.

Tom smiled his most charming smile with all his white teeth on display as if he were a wolf baring it's deadly canines ready to rip out your throat, "Hello, James. Peter sends his regards, and respectfully asks for you to give me the information I desire."

The younger man unfreezes at his words, betrayal written across his face as well as mounting panic at the same time Tom crossed the threshold of the home as if he could not feel the fiery burn of the wards across his skin. The same wards that were supposed to have protected the home from any who sought it's location without the Secret- Keeper's knowledge.

In the span of a minute, Tom had entered the home unimpeded and James drew his wand as a bright spell flew from it's tip, "Lily! Protect Harry!"

But it was quickly shielded, and the older man tutted at the father's now immoble form laying upon the wooden floor of their safe house, "Now, now, James. I have only one goal, and seeing as how you have chosen to disregard you friend's wishes I must use force."

He then continued up the stairs after futilely burrowing into the Head of the Potter family's mind in search of his wife who he found guarding their child in the nursery. The night was already wearing thin upon his own mind, and he hoped beyond anything that his answers would be answered.

After all these years… by the Gods bring me the answers I seek…

Entering the room, he made sure to keep his wand hand pointed to the floor lest the woman make any mistake that would result in her or the child's death before his goals were achieved. A mother, he knew, was always even somewhat wand- happy at the thought of their child possibly being in danger. Briefly he looked behind her to the small toddler staring around his red headed mother from his crib, a child who shared her emerald eyes that sent a familiar pang through his heart.

Emeralds shining upon the head of a skull, the snake seemingly feeling the malicious actions of the man who was holding it aloft as it hissed it's displeasure at also sensing it's Master's sadness… the ruby eyes dull and no longer matching the luster of the crown as the blood siblings no longer graced the same presence…

… ripped apart…

"Mrs. Potter," Tom began, keeping a careful eye on her twitching wand hand and the sorrowful tears running down her cheeks, all the while her chest heaving with suppressed sobs. "Fear not, your husband is perfectly fine, laying stunned downstairs. I-"

"You're lying!" she screamed, raising her wand high. "You are a ruthless man who thinks nothing of human life as long as it gets you what you want, Dumbledore has told us all of who you truly are, everything underneath that mask of yours you think hides all that you are."

Impatience as well as a growing migraine that was all too frequent after Hermina's absence in his life even after all these years eroded Tom's patience with record speed at the mention of that diabolical man who somehow had fooled everyone around him with his words of light and peace, and so he dropped his charming facade as emeralds filled his gaze and stayed his hand at anything impulsive. If this is what Severus of the line of Prince had seen that caused his love for her, these emeralds, he could understand the look in his eye that he was all too intimately familiar with as he begged for her life upon his knees even as confliction wrote itself uon his face from the pain she had put him through.

"I have simply come to glean the information I require," he continued as if he had not been interrupted by both her banshee like screeching nor the pressure behind his eye causing temporary blurriness of his eyes, which would ultimately prove his downfall. "Information on a prophecy regarding myself as well as my sister that Albus Dumbledore might have shared with his beloved Order of the Phoenix, or simply yourself seeing as how your husband nor others of the Order I have had contact with seems to have information on the situation."

Alas, the second mention of the woman's husband seemed to have been too much in her wrongly aggrieved mind, and so she raised her wand even higher before her and as if in slow motion in Tom's pain filled head, and called forth all the anger and despair she felt.

"Avada Kedavra!" Severus' love, James Potter's wife, and Harry Potter's mother shot forth the curse that would significantly change the course of the next few years of the wizarding world.

Tom would awake to the most Gods awful sobbing that was once more on this most horribly going night, calling forth memories of how he must have sounded when he learned of his Hermina's disappearance into the ravages of time. Lying supine upon the plush carpet of the blue painted nursery, his eyes opened once again to blurry vision that somehow did not distort the image of a dark haired father leaning over the emerald eyed mother of his child as said child wailed in his crib in the corner of the room. Lying still for long enough to gain a semblance of his bearings while at the same time not alerting the man of his consciousness, although he might not have noticed either way in his all consuming grief, he assessed his situation.

A somehow rebounded killing curse, allowing him to live another day of his life to find his beloved while another lay dead at his feet.

Although he felt as if he had fallen from a broom fifty stories high, Tom moved as quickly as he could to stand and point hesitantly to the rightly distracted man and his child. But as he did this, his sister, never far behind the surface of his mind, seemed to speak into his ear with the voice of the angel that she was.

Flee… flee… find her Tom Marvolo Riddle…

Tom once more looked into the green eyes of the child who looked to his tall form that had somehow made it's invisible way around James Potter wrapped around his departed wife along the length of the floor, and propped up the child's fallen bear into his small arms.

Never after that night would he remember why exactly he left that room, and never would he remember the Goddess who blessed him and his sister to life speaking to him in her lovely little voice.

~.~

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1943

Albus Dumbledore

The deputy headmaster of Hogwarts was interviewing potential professors for the position of Divination when the course of events leading to years and years of pain and despair began. Cassandra Trelawney, a most famous and celebrated seer had pulled some strings to allow her granddaughter an interview despite the copious evidence she did not possess the older woman's talents, and so she sat before him frizzy hair and all.

His heart was not much into the interview of the obviously pregnant woman who sat before him, blinking at him with large eyes, but Headmaster Dippet had a way of pawning off things to him that needed to be done but were exceedingly rigorous yet boring. The laughter of children going to and from place to place just outside his open doorway filtered in as well as snippets of their conversations as Dumbledore continued with the Trelawney woman's futile interview, "And what do you think you would be able to contribute to the Divination curriculum of Hogwarts, Mrs. Trelawney?"

Opening her mouth to no doubt give yet another too practiced answer, she was once again interrupted by a knock on the classroom door's frame by Abraxus Malfoy.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore's blue eyes assessed two of the children lingering behind the blonde haired boy, "Have you perhaps come for your textbook you have need of to complete the assignment due tomorrow?"

The boy had the typical continence of a spoiled Pureblooded child in this day and age, "Yes, sir." He said unapologetically, striding into the room to the tune of the girl behind him no doubt laughing at the whispered words of the twin speaking into her ear as he hugged her to his side. Dumbledore reached into the open drawer beside his knee to pull out the forgotten textbook, but yet his eyes continued glancing back to the two Riddle children.

The twins…

The subject of two magical children sharing the womb of their mother at the same time and living to grow into their looks was an exceedingly rare occurrence, the children living through the ordeal was rare enough even with their mother perishing in the act. Due to this, the wizarding world was constantly on the fence about the subject of whether or not those children were to be seen as blessed by the Gods, or cursed. Dumbledore himself was an empirical person at heart, and as he had not the honor of observing other magical twin children other than the two he had found in a muggle orphanage sixteen years ago, he himself leaned towards neither side. Yet, there just was simply something off leaning towards the other end of the spectrum regarding Hermina and Tom Riddle that required a closer eye.

Once they walked back out of sight with simply a simultaneous glance of two pairs of stormy eyes at their Transfiguration professor, they left arm and arm with Malfoy following behind. Then, one look at the woman left before him had all his suspicions rushing back to the forefront of his wise mind as she continued to look towards the space the two children had previously occupied as if overcome by a trance.

"Mrs. Trelawney?" Margaret heard the Deputy Headmaster say, but she heard her name as if her ears were beneath water as she descended in her mind in a way she had never done before even in her meditations.

Screams pierced the air and terror cut through you to the bone as a cold voice asked, "What you do know of my sister?"

Fire filled the sky, scorching across the earth as dozens of black clad bone masked figures flooded the wizarding world, spreading the pain and anguish of the sisterless brother to innocents in order to feel something other than the emptiness that pain had turned him into over the years.

Dumbledore would later hear the prophecy the woman had given him echo within his mind, all the while watching the two sixteen year old Riddle children immersed within their own small bubble in the midst of all the children seated in the Great Hall.

Borne of the Slytherin line comes two children bound together by the Gods by blood and by womb, and on the eve of the girl twin's seventeenth birthday the Dark Lord shall rise once more. The Dark Lord shall rise, and he will burn the world and all those who oppose him in the name of her who he has loved.

This would ultimately cause his mind to be made up on the age old question he had pondered ever since he walked into a room with two dark haired children holding hands on a ratty old bed and speaking to one another without any words necessary. His always present Legitimacy running his own mind over their young ones as they looked to one another for a moment, hearing only the boy's voice in the girl's mind and the girl in the boy's. Some truly extraordinary magic for ones so young, but then again so little was known of the bond between twins, it very well could have been simply sharing the same magical signature.

Cursed, they are cursed…

Albus would always remember the moment he decided the fate of more than simply the breaking of two lives, but countless others of magical and muggle peoples alike until his dying day staring down an all too familiar wand.

The gods never took kindly to the meddling of mortal men in their affairs, especially ones who believed they were gods themselves. Only those who were truly blessed could ever be allowed to escape that wrath.

~.~

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Gryffindor Dormitory, 1995

Hermione Granger

Hermione had always had dreams, more like nightmares really all filled with terror and a man she had never set eyes upon until the day she was told for a certainty that she was different than everyone she had ever grown up with. Even more different from her parents than they had realized. She was blessed with magic, something every little girl would have dreamt of having and been amazed to be told she had. But Hermione wasn't, she just took it as a fact of life she had long ago figured out on her own once she found she could talk to snakes and make them do whichever action she might desire. Including wrapping tightly about the ankles of a girl at primary school who had pushed her to the ground during break one day, only releasing the crying girl once Hermione ordered it to allow blood to flow back to her blue tinged feet.

The man with the brightly clothed shoulders and the fading red colored beard reaching his waist had imparted much more pain and agony upon Hermione than any bully she had ever encountered during her conscious hours. All for an unknown reason she could never get an answer as he always, without fail, had her frozen and unable to move or scream down on a cold stone floor all too similar to that of the Hogwarts halls.

Silently, she made her way about the large castle after sneaking across the Slytherin common room, studiously avoiding the large gilded mirror depicting a girl with blacker curls and a sharper jaw than she would ever have due to her resemblance to her mother whose rounded cheeks made her seem much younger than she was. That was simply another thing that made her stand out against those in her house full of Purebloods that had cast her out of mind even if they could never do so physically, per their Head of House's instructions first year when she had found her beloved books strewn about the Slytherin hallway leading to the dorms. Although they had never seemed to see the odd reflection she cast as she herself did, it was something else in her mind that alienated her. But she was just fine with that situation seeing as how she also had the company of a boy suspiciously similar to the girl in the mirror that appeared beside her as if made of flesh and blood, grinning down to her small form as warmth seeped into her shoulder from where his hand gripped it. As if he were truly there and not a figment of her imagination.

"Make sure you are quiet, Mina." The boy told her, his red lips widening as if in on a joke she knew nothing about. "Quiet as a field mouse."

Her mouth moved without her ever realizing it, her voice quiet as the aforementioned mouse through a field of grass as it often did more and more frequently since she had arrived at Hogwarts five years ago. The boy having grown to be more of a companion than the other black haired boy made of real substance and life- blood she now found sitting utop the Astronomy Tower.

"We are not field- mice, Tom." She said to the boy at her side, hoping the one sitting over the ledge of the Tower with his eyes tracing the stars could not hear her from where she observed him, "We are snakes. We will always be snakes and nothing else."

If only that were as true as one would believe…

His hand moved to alongside her neck to gently yank a curl just as a cold breeze blew them from her forehead and his warm breath kissed her cheek, "Right you are, my love."

Shivering, Hermione sat herself beside the bespeckled boy, dangling her legs over the edge all the while studiously avoiding looking down to the grass several more feet longer than she would like. Warm arms wrapped around her from behind, that familiar warmth once more enveloping her once more as legs outlined hers over the edge and arms wrapped her waist.

"Don't worry, Mina." He told her, chuckling as if he didn't feel her burrowing back into his chest as inconspicuous as she could without alerting Harry she was surrounded in an intoxicating smell and warmth he could no more see nor smell himself than that of the air blowing around them. "I've got you."

"Hello, Harry." She greeted him quietly, tracing the constellations in the sky for herself, finding the namesake of her housemate Draco Malfoy in record time.

"Hello, Hermione." He said, smiling sadly at her as he had every time this day of the year since they began Hogwarts, this day marking his mother's death. As well as the man who had killed her by the name of Lord Voldemort, or He- Who- Must- Not- Be- Named which Hermione found all too much of a mouthful to say, so in her mind she called him the Dark Lord as Professor Snape called him whenever giving speeches of the goings on of the Death Eaters. The speeches they were not meant to hear of, per Dumbledore's orders.

"The Dark Lord," Tom chuckled in her ear, "I like it, I think I'll keep it." His voice, not for the first time she has found, seems as if it were echoes of a conversation she didn't hear from the start.

Ruffling the bit of hair that always seemed to fall on Harry's forehead in imitation of his father, she grabbed onto the boy who had become her closest and only friend's hand, "How are you doing?"

His warmth was still nothing compared to Tom's behind her as he laced his fingers through her own delicately boned ones, "It gets easier every year for me anyway, this sadness that Dad seems to feel just as much as when Mum died." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Uncle Sirius and Remus spent the day with him today, but he didn't want me to miss classes this close to the first task. Thinks I might learn something that you haven't already taught me."

There goes that sad smile that tried so hard to seem okay but Hermione chooses to stay silent at those words, looking over the maze that now grew across the length of the Quidditch Pitch Harry would disappear into in just a month's time. Into the final task of the Triwizard Tournament The- Boy- Who- Lived was never meant to participate in, and yet seemed to have been thrust into regardless. Much like being branded with that name as well, despite James Potter's wishes, somehow his only son borne to the woman he loved even after all these years had become a beacon of hope for the wizarding world. A mother's love deflecting the killing curse meant for her as well as her child all onto herself, and fatally wounding one of the most feared Dark wizards at that time in the process? Something Dumbledore had told his most favorite Gryffindor, who then told his most unlikely of friends. An unthinkable and illogical outcome of that night's events in Hermione's mind, contradicting everything she had studied since coming to Hogwarts with all the books she could ever want at her fingertips. Especially in the Restricted Section, borrowing Harry's Invisibility Cloak for a night and sneaking into the library full of information was like a dream come true. One she would most like to have over the ones that currently filled her nights.

Lord Voldemort, a man who had razed the Wizarding World all for the purpose of furthering Pureblood agendas within the United Kingdom, and who had been after Harry for years and years. Once again, something Dumbledore had told his father after suggesting they move under the protection of Auror Sirius Black's ancestry home that fell beneath the same charm as their Godric's Hollow safehouse.

"A murderous wizard they call the Dark Lord," Tom purred into her ear, "Tell me, Mina, what would you call a man who puts on an Angel of the Light facade but is really the cause of everything that has happened, and will happen."

Sometimes these one sided and random interruptions of Tom's confused her for days and days even more than the ones she felt compelled to involuntarily reply to.

Her and Harry had become fast friends after meeting on the Hogwarts Express, something no one outside of them could quite understand especially his various friends such as Ronald Weasley, as well as Hermione herself at times. Having grown up within the wizarding community despite being under the watchful and protective gaze of his father and non- blooded uncles, Harry was able to teach Hermione much of the mannerisms and customs she needed in order to fit in. The fact that Hermione had been sorted into Slytherin almost immediately once the Sorting Hat was put onto her head, and Harry causing somewhat of a hatstall before being placed into Gryffindor was beside the point of Dumbledore's subtle suggestions to Harry that perhaps they should part as merely classmates.

A few minutes of silence passed before Harry stood and said he was going back to his dorm, but something forced Hermione into grabbing hold of his hand, "I'm sure your mother would be very proud of you so far, Harry. I know your going to be great in the tournament," she attempted a smile, "After all, I am the one tutoring you."

Harry laughed his first genuine sound since that morning where they met outside the Great Hall before parting to their house tables, "It's a wonder you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, 'Mione." He grabbed ahold of her same curl Tom had twirled, causing a deep pain in her heart for unknown reasons at the action.

Once he was gone, she lay down a foot from the edge of the tower, closing her eyes and basking in the cool breeze on her cheeks even knowing she should get back to her dorm before any of the professors came along the Astronomy Tower on their nightly rounds. Hearing a hissing, she turned her head towards a crack in the bricks to see a small garden snake making her way towards her. Allowing the small thing to wrap around her fingers before bringing her to hover above her face, the small tongue feeling like silk upon her cheek brought back memories of her childhood. Memories of her parents looking at her cradling a snake and speaking to it as if she knew what it meant, then setting her outside of a drably dressed professional looking woman's office as they spoke in low voices about medication.

"Hello, little one," Hermione smiles up to the small head cocking to the side. "What are you doing out in this weather when you should be sleeping?"

"Food," the small reptile told her in it's hissing little voice that could have quickly and easily been carried away on the wind.

Rising up and pulling out her wand, she conjured up a little pile of insects and allowed the snake it's fill before sending it back off to it's mother in it's warm den to shelter through the coldly howling weather. Once again lying beside Tom shoulder to shoulder, staring into his smiling gray eyes those memories came to the forefront of her mind once more.

"Tom, are you real?" Hermione asked him, all the while feeling his warmth soak into her skin once more as if he were a werewolf much like Remus who seemed to always give off an extra layer of heat all around him. "Or are you just in my head?"

Once more, he smiles and it seems as if everything else falls away around her and he is the center of her universe, "I love you, Mina."

Long ago, not that many years ago did she vow to herself that she would always believe in him, rather he was a figment of her imagination or not but just like earlier she seemed to life in a world of confusion when it came to him. "I love you too, Tom." She whispered, not at all seeing the dark shadow that seemed a part of the shadows themself, "But why do you call me Mina?"

She could see nothing but that sharp smile until a voice cut through her muddled memories, "Miss. Granger, you should be in bed."

Hermione rose to her feet so fast she became dizzy with vertigo and stepped backwards, not realizing how close to the edge of the tower she in fact was until her Head of House pulled her to him with only three long strided steps across the length of the room.

Glancing up his chest into his dark and narrowed eyes, she said, "I'm sorry, Professor Snape. I have nightmares."

"Regardless," he said while leading her down the winding stairs, "Keep to the Common Room after curfew. Come along now, I will walk you back."

Knowing he rarely took points away from his own House without better reason than being out of bed, she treaded carefully as she realized she never once was in his company alone outside of a few minutes within Grimmauld Place. Although the Dark Lord had been gone all these years, Dumbledore's founding of the secret Order of the Phoenix continued on due to the actions of the ongoings of the Death Eaters still loyal to him. Professor Snape being among the familiar group tromping in and out of the Black family home during the many days of the summer Hermione spent roaming the halls with Harry, despite Ronald's whinging, when the three Marauders were required in the home. Sirius having long ago given loan to Dumbledore as their home was the halls of the Potter Manor, the curly haired girl was well accustomed to seeing the Professor outside class hours while making sure to always say hello once he was through trading insults with Padfoot. Although, her and Harry never could answer the question as to why James and Remus always had to pull them off of one another and prevent a duel right in the kitchen after a particularly long meeting.

Looking up to his tall form and face she had always believed to be handsome despite what others might say, such as the the ill words of the Gryffindors she would hear speaking to one another in the halls, she asked, "Are you alright, Professor Snape? You were quieter than you usually are in class today."

He looks down to her own small form with his customary frown and raised eyebrow at her directly asking him such a question before turning forward once more and asking the girl a question of his own, "Who calls you Mina, Miss. Granger?"

Hermione froze where she stood just one step away from stepping away off the Astronomy Tower stairs, still not even with the much taller man's height. "Excuse me, Professor?"

"Tell him, my love." Tom told her in her ear, sounding curiously eager with an undertone of childlike glee although the only warmth she felt now was from the man now looking down to her once more. "Tell him who I really am, who you are to me. My Mina, mine."

His black brow was raised once more, repeating himself with seemingly infinite patience he has never once displayed within his classroom in front of their rival house. He could not be seen going soft, now could he?

"Who were you talking to just now, that calls you Mina? I saw no one."

She unfroze slowly but surely, still feeling Tom's sudden giddiness in the back of her mind. "His name is Tom," she says looking down to the floor, continuing when obviously that was not enough information to satisfy his needs. "He's just a boy in my head, Professor. Someone I've seen since I was a small child, he's just always been there. I don't know where he came from, it seems he has been with me from the crib, but he speaks to me. He calls me Mina, I don't know why though." She hesitated, "My parents thought I was mad, so I told no one once I came to Hogwarts."

Long pale fingers wrap around her chin gently, causing her to jerk a small bit but not dislodge the firm digits that were warmer than she ever thought they would be. Her eyes raising to his once they tighten the tiniest of bits, he speaks, "You have told no one of this boy?"

"No, sir." She whispers as if imitating the tone of the snake she had held within her hands just minutes ago, although it felt as if hours had gone by in that short time. "Just my parents who believed him to be an imaginary friend, they think he has gone from me now. But he hasn't. I thought once I came to Hogwarts I could find an explanation as to why he follows me, but there is nothing within the whole library to answer my endless questions as you call them. Not that I am entirely sure I wish him to leave me though, even if sometimes others might think I am mad. Maybe I am. We all are, even if just a bit."

He stares once more, "That is all? Not Potter, nor any of your housemates?"

She smiles a bit sadly, "I have no one to trust in my housemates, Professor, as I am sure you are aware. As to Harry, he would simply think me mad to say I see a dark haired boy much like him sitting next to me everywhere I go."

His fingers fell from her chin in order for him to take a step backwards and cross his arms within his robes in the way Hermione always loved to see him do, "Anything else about him? Anything to tell of who he is, another name, characteristic?"

Tom leans against the wall behind the Professor, twirling about an obsidian stone set in gold about his finger, that dashing grin written across his face.

"Sometimes he has on a stone ring on his finger," Hermione twists about her own bare finger in the same way the boy does, her thoughts once again burying her within her mind and causing her to ramble for the millionth time that night to her Professor. "Stone in gold that glints with a shine in the sun as if something were hidden inside it."

A large hand guiding her down the last step snaps her out of her head, leading her onward towards the dungeons that lay beneath the Great Lake. "I am sorry, Professor. It seems my mind wanders off more and more lately, I can't seem to help it. Sometimes it is if I truly am going mad."

Severus starts inside of his own mind at how the girl's expression resembled that of his former Master's own face, her words just as those he used to speak when talking on a subject and steered on and on in the same wistful and somewhat saddened tone of voice. "It is alright, girl."

Hermione suddenly starts, her clouded eyes clearing as Tom whispers one name into her ear that causes a bout of slight panic to raise up into her chest. Stopping once again right in the middle of the hall where any other Professor could come upon her gripping his hand that had been steering her to her chest, she asked as calmly as possible with tears pricking her eyes, "You won't tell the Headmaster, will you? Please don't, Professor Snape. I beg of you, don't tell him of Tom."

Severus' free hand moved up to cradle the girl's cheek, her cheek so small his tumb rested just on her racing pulse below her jawbone, "He will hear of nothing, Hermione. I give you my word."

Tom cradled her other cheek, shoulder to shoulder with the Professor while they both leant her the strength not to fall into an anxiety attack, "Calm, my love. Everything will be just fine. We can trust Severus."

It was only at the entrance to their Common Room that she turned to him again and spoke once more, "He causes me such sadness, Professor, and I can't figure as to why. It is as if everytime I look at his face, a feeling of loss just fills up my heart and I can no longer breathe normally. If only I could touch his face, or his fingers like he can me, he can touch me you know? I can feel his warmth as surely as I can feel yours in my hand, but if only I could feel his skin I could just breathe normally again. But it's as if I have never taken a full breath in my life."

His own chest had felt this feeling many times throughout the years, particularly on this day of the anniversary of Lily Potter's death, and now it felt as if there were a string connecting him to this saddened young girl. Making a sudden decision that would confound him for years and years to come, he conjured up the two objects he had held onto all these years that had kept him connected to the red haired woman, a single pearl embedded upon dainty gold hoops the woman had worn religiously since the day they found they were to be sentenced to their schooling at Hogwarts. A gift from his own mother to give to a very special girl from her very small collection of heirlooms she had brought with her from the Prince family coffers after marrying his father, Lily had at once thrown them to his collapsed form upon the green the moment that despairing word of Mudblood left his lips.

"I wish you to have these, Miss. Granger." His large hands put the delicate pieces of jewelry into her much smaller one, and allowing her to wrap her fingers around them securely after she studied them.

"They are very lovely, Professor." She looked up to him with shining eyes and a slight smile, the caramel orbs flicking behind his shoulder in a way he suddenly realized she had always done since arriving at the school although he had always thought it to be perhaps a nervous habit. But maybe now, it seemed to be something altogether more. "But why? Obviously you love them, the pearls glow as if they are very well taken care of."

He hesitated while weighing his words carefully even as he says more than he ever thought he would, "Those pearls are very special to me, Hermione. I wish you to take care of them for me, and if you ever feel as if you can no longer breathe anymore as you have said, touch them and think of my hands in yours. Have that ground you rather than losing yourself to the thought of not being able to touch your Tom, and if that is not enough, my door will always be open to you." He paused in an almost unnoticeable way before continuing on, "I may not always be the best emotional support, but I am your Head of House and I expect all of my Slytherins to come to me with any problems you might have."

She nodded once as if that was a complete answer to her question and turned to leave him after absent mindedly placing a hand right upon his left forearm, "Thank you, and goodnight, sir."

"May I ask one more question of you, Miss. Granger?" She looked at him expectantly with an exhausted paleness about her cheeks he had felt within his hands in a way he never should have touched any student. He felt his blackened Dark Mark pulse with a heat almost similar to a summoning by his master, but yet not as he tries to satiate his damnable curiosity. "Why exactly would you not wish Headmaster Dumbledore to know of the situation? He has much more experience than I, more years to him within certain magical studies. It is possible he could help you to answer your questions."

She simply stared into his eyes as if she were much older than her young years and knew every single word written about his brain, and says one word before disappearing behind the snake embossed doors, "Nightmares."

~.~

Malfoy Manor, 1977

Severus Snape

The young boy blended into the small crowd of Death Eaters seamlessly, as if he had been doing it for years and not the few months he had been inducted into the group of dark wizards. He had proved himself in those months since his graduation from Hogwarts, completing tasks he would put out of his mind as soon as they were over in order to live with himself all for the sake of knowledge and power. Eventually, as he would come to realize, all those around him sought at least one of those two things when having first committing themselves as well as their children's children towards the aims of the Dark Lord. Even those such as Lucius Malfoy who he had once considered a friend within their educational halls, but no longer once it became apparent he simply expected great things of Severus whose recruitment was a win for the Malfoy ledgers.

A celebration had been planned for the night, one which had cost the newly married Narcissa Malfoy nee Black dearly in the way of time and her husband's money. The celebration in question having taken a dreary turn in Severus' eyes, but apparently was no different than all the previous years on the day of the Dark Lord's birth. With no apparent reason, the guests milled about in hushed whispers as the expensive orchestra changed their melodies to something more fitting of the dreary atmosphere than a party. The boy himself floating between the clusters of jeweled and cologned bodies slowly as if he had a destination in mind, but in reality listened carefully to the conversations such as Abraxas Malfoy. One simply did not openly question the actions of the Dark Lord, however inadvertent it had happened, but it seemed the old friends of the Lord were allowed a modicum of leeway their children weren't.

The screams of one of said children for speaking out of turn on one of his especially bad days still rung throughout the marble tiled hall and high ceilings, although the blood splattered across the white floor did have a marvelous color. Something no artist could replicate no matter how skilled nor for lack of trying.

"He once had a sister," the blonde patriarch explained to one of the newer members that had been inducted into their order alongside Severus, this their first of many gatherings to come as part of the inner circle. "A twin who had disappeared many years ago when we were in our final year of Hogwarts."

"A twin!" The boy whispered, awed at such a rarity within the magical community, "What was her name?"

"He has forbidden it to be spoken by anyone but by his own lips, nor will he take kindly to the mentioning of her by anyone but himself first so beware boy, and learn your place quickly." Abraxas' eyes suddenly moved over the boy's head towards Severus who had leaned against the wall within the shadows who then seeing the expectant gleam within his eyes, nodded his understanding to his supposed friend's father.

Seeing he had finally found the reason as to the air of melancholy that had began from the man and gradually expanded throughout the night into the crowd, Severus moved on to try and satiate the curiosity the older man had simply whetted no matter his intentions. Steadily moving throughout the small group of peoples that had begun hovering around the Dark Lord all night long hoping to wait on him in order to curry even a speck of favor, he sneered within his mind at the overt attentions of Narcissa's older sister. Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black who fawned over the uninterested man sitting in his usual spot at the front of the large ballroom, looking as if he noticed no one at all as he observed a small picture clutched within his hands although nothing could be seen printed upon it. A glamour charm most likely allowing only him to trace his finger along the invisible lines.

Severus observed the youthful face of the man once more, all signs of the mark of a magical being, before ascending the steps towards his singular high backed chair and marveling at the man's retained youth when not even the father Malfoy had not escaped the ravages of time without specklings of gray at his temples. Although wizards did indeed age at a younger pace than Muggles in regards to physical appearance, the Dark Lord seemed not to have gotten that letter as he only looked just as old as the day his Hogwarts picture shown within his graduating year's schoolbook said he was.

"My Lord," Severus bowed his head in respect to the man who raised his head absently to his rising follower, nodding silently when Severus asks, "Might I have a word with you, in private?"

His gray eyes seemingly cleared of the fog that had descended them for at this point a few hours now, glancing towards Bellatrix beside him as if surprised to see her leaning over him only after he sees Severus' own dark eyes flick in her direction.

"If you would leave me, Bellatrix." His smooth voice cut through the music towards those down the small flight of steps who had been waiting for him to speak since last thanking Narcissa for her efforts towards the night's planning, surprise written across those who had spent many namedays with the Dark Lord and not once seen him retreat from his thoughts on that day.

Bella gave Severus a nasty look before passing by him on her way to her anxious looking husband who stood speaking with an equally surprised Lucius.

"What can I do for you, Severus?" His voice seemed to be tapering off once more, his eyes lowering to that blank picture.

"I would just like to wish you a Happy Birthday, my Lord." Severus spoke, a hesitation only just heard in a small pause before he continued, "And my condolences as well on the disappearance of your sister, if I am not so bold as to say. I can not imagine the pain of losing someone as close to my heart as she so obviously is to you, even after all these years."

If he would ever find someone closer to his heart than Lily had ever been, if it had not all been a lie he had told himself in order to feel less lonely in his miserable life before Hogwarts in a home filled with the smell of drink and smoke. If it was not simply something he had clung onto in order to feel less lonely in a pain filled world in general.

The older man's eyes raised slowly to the boy's, a small saddened smile growing into sharp white canines and stormy gray eyes, "I am surprised at you, Severus. As bold and brave as a Gryffindor to speak to me in such a way." He looked to him as if seeing him in an altogether new light than had previously been shone down upon his hair the color of onyx, just as his own and his twin's. "I like you boy, I expect great things from you in the future."

Severus bowed his head once more as his heart tried it's best to thump right out of his chest at the successful testing of boundaries he was capable of pushing, "Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord cocked his head to the side as the canines disappeared once more, quietly asking Severus, "What would you do, if you could imagine the pain of losing your one person, what lengths would you go to find her again? Even if everything in the world tells you it is a fool's mission, everything expect that love you still bare her after living more years apart than you ever had together?"

Severus did not have to think long on his answer as it was very plain, "I would envelope her name in pain and blood, my Lord."

His mind slipped away from the boy's loosening hold at those powerful words Tom Riddle so needed to hear, his thoughts once again drifting off into better days filled with a girl's sweet scent in his nose and the tickle of curls beneath his chin. Something he so wished to feel again, and knew for a certainty he would even if he had to kill everyone who thought to impeed his way.

"Her name was Mina. My Mina." He said in a voice that just as easily as the wind blows, could have been carried off in the din of the crowd below them's murmurs as his previous amusement disappeared as if it had been an illusion. A voice that spoke of that emotion that Severus had wallowed within many a day when seeing Lily's smiling face, the pain of that emotion still all too raw in the aftermath of her disowning him even after a year of being separated from her by his own foolish words.

But yet, resentment and contempt was slowly building it's way from his heart towards the woman once her own smell no longer invaded his senses.

That love one has for someone who is their world, who would burn another's world, was all too audible in the way his Dark Lord caressed the now visible portrait of a delicately faced girl with black curls and a jawline copied onto her brother's face right before him.