Hello, everybody! I went back and forth on where to end this chapter, eventually deciding to go with the longer cut. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 13 The Mystery Untangles

Hermione nibbled on her toast while flipping through the newspaper. Luna had been truthful, the Death Eater's unchecked reign of terror had ended after they took the Ministry. The occasional skirmish with the Order kept the public on edge. But without random violence occurring, most were waiting for one of the sides to admit defeat. She briefly wished the Death Eaters would accept muggleborns as magical beings, and stop hating muggles out of unfounded fears. She would never bear the mark or probably fight in pitched battle, but the promise of revenge was tempting, and the fate of people like her was still a concern. She looked up as Yaxley entered the dining room. Bellatrix growled at him. He smiled, "Good morning, lovely Bellatrix."

"Breakfast?" Hermione offered when she realized Bellatrix wouldn't.

"No, thank you. I'm just here to collect you for a field trip to the Hall of Prophecy."

"Didn't most of those end up destroyed?"

"Only the really old ones and Potter's. The rest were recovered. So, unless the world has been waiting for you for over 1,000 years we should be good."

"Let me finish eating then. Then I'll collect my glamours."

Yaxley sat, "Do you have one Boles hasn't seen, or can you make one? I want to see if he can spot one, if the spell has a tell, or if he has picked up any mannerisms that would give you away."

"Is it wrong that I hope not?" she asked in a conspiratory whisper.

"No, because I want the same thing. Either way, would you consider showing him how you made them? And if you can break them."

"I'll keep trying."

"That a girl," Yaxley praised. He turned to greet Rodolphus as he entered. "Congratulations, your full pardon came through this morning. You are a completely free man, Mr. Lestrange."

"What about me?" demanded Bellatrix.

"We're having a hard time with some of the neutrals. Apparently, they remember you from before Azkaban, you know, at school." She growled at him again. "Oi, don't blame the messenger. Be less sociopathic. Bas should be next. We'll keep trying for Bellatrix."

"The public is okay with this?" inquired Hermione.

"This isn't exactly being advertised, we're reporting this as reformed criminals, who paid their debts to society all that, no names."

"I see, let me go get dressed and we'll get going." Yaxley nodded to acknowledge her.

She selected a cream colored sundress and sandals. She added a rope of pearls and hurried back downstairs. Rodolphus sat looking smug next to Yaxley, who glared back, "The point has been made that your current wand is known to the Ministry, and you are still Undesirable #2. Once you're glamoured, Hermione Nevaeh Lestrange will visit Ollivander for a new one. Another test for your glamours, I suppose."

"Why does Roddy look so pleased with himself?"

"I won the debate on who gets to pay for the wand."

She looked at them in confusion, "And that is a victory?"

"You have no idea."

Yaxley rolled his eyes, "Don't you have a glamour to be creating?" Hermione contemplated her options, ultimately deciding to create an image of what the adoption ritual could produce. Wild black curls, dark gray eyes, and sharper features. Yaxley smiled approvingly. "Let's take this for a test run." He offered her his arm and spun them away.

Hermione looked around, the crowds of shoppers respectable for July. She played her part, pretending to be new, looking around like the surroundings were unfamiliar. Yaxley steered her to the wand shop. Inside he introduced her to Ollivander.

He eyed her carefully, "Welcome, Miss Lestrange. Let us find you your new wand." He began handing her different wants, watching for a reaction. She felt surprised when her new wand was not vinewood, but acacia with a dragon heartstring core. "Most interesting, Miss Lestrange, acacia wood often refuses to work with any but their owner. They withhold their best efforts from all but the best. In the past, it was called snakewood."

"Salazar Slytherin had an acacia wand, didn't he?"

The wild haired man grinned madly, "As did his children."

"Thank you for my wand, Mr. Ollivander."

"You are most welcome. Have a good day."

Yaxley offered her his arm, "Shall we, princess?"

"Onto the next, I suppose. Good day, Mr. Ollivander."

Yaxley escorted her to the public floo in the Leaky Cauldron, "Would you like me to go first?"

"No, I think I'll be safer on my own at the ministry rather than here. He nodded, and she grabbed a handful of powder. "Ministry of Magic," she vanished in emerald flames.

Stepping from the fireplace, she brushed the soot from her clothing while waiting for Yaxley. He joined her and directed her to the security desk. The unshaven guard mechanically took her wand, weighed it, and handed it back. He barely looked at her. He glanced at Yaxley's employee badge, "Business at the ministry?"

"She's here with me, Munch. Giving a potential intern a tour." The man nodded and handed Hermione a visitor pass and sat back down behind his desk. Yaxley directed her to the lifts.

"It looks different in the daylight," she told him as they descended to the Department of Mysteries.

He laughed, "I imagine it does."

Just outside the department, Peregrine joined them. Yaxley didn't introduce them, something the younger wizard accepted without question, it was the department of mysteries after all. Peregrine did study her suspiciously. "Here are the papers you asked for."

"Thank you," Yaxley began reviewing them.

"Nice disguise, Hermione."

His boss nodded approvingly, "Good job. Peregrine Boles, this is Hermione Lestrange."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Boles."

"Likewise, Miss Lestrange."

"Join us," ordered Yaxley.

Inside the Hall of Prophecy, an employee instructed her to touch the orb by the door. It remained dark. My condolences, or congratulations, there are no prophecies about you."

"I think, congratulations. Who wants to be part of a prophecy?"

The worker nodded, "True enough, I suppose."

Yaxley thanked him and the group departed. They made their way to his office. The department secretary handed him several memo paper birds. "Undersecretary Umbridge came looking for you, twice."

"Thank you," he gestured for the other two to enter and be seated.

"How is that toad still employed?"

"She's a kiss arse, and someday she will make an excellent scapegoat or patsy. She's still annoyed we scaled back her muggle initiatives. But really, what was she thinking?"

"I suppose that is acceptable, so long as she suffers in the end."

"I appreciate your approval. Now that we know that is not a title of some kind, I think Morris's theory might be what's going on. We'll start looking into what abilities you might have. Probably should consider a trip to Gringotts in the near future."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Let Roddy know those items he wants will be delivered today."

"I will," she promised.

"Boles, would you escort Miss Lestrange to the floos?"

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you."

They walked to the lift in silence. Once in the cage, she addressed him, "I know you have questions, but I want to tell Marcus everything first."

"Understood, you can tell me when you're ready. I am rather patient and excellent at keeping secrets."

"Thank you."

"I like this look, it looks the most like you."

"I combined Roddy and Bellatrix, what I could look like after the adoption."

"Lovely," his face fell when he realized how she could interpret that, "not that you aren't pretty as yourself."

She laughed, "I know what you mean."

She found Rodolphus brewing a potion in his lab. "I was supposed to tell you about the delivery, but looks like it beat me home."

"It did. Bellatrix is getting the robes we need. Unless you object, we'll do this tonight."

"Marcus has an out-of-town match today, we're meeting tomorrow to discuss everything. Might as well have this out of the way and added to the list."

"Splendid," he handed her a sheet of instructions. "You need to bathe using the specified soap over there." He pointed to three bars of lilac soap, one labeled with her name. "And dissolve those herbs in the water. I made you a copy of the ritual.

"I'm on it."

"Bella will bring your robes up when she returns."

Hermione asked Maisie to run her bath, pouring the herbs into the hot water. While they dissolved she read over the instructions. She disrobed and lowered herself into the water. Whoever designed the glorious marble soaking device was a genius. The back sloped at the perfect recline angle. The overflow drain sat high enough to allow relaxation while completely submerged. She transfigured a flannel into a pillow and reclined with her eyes closed. She drifted in and out of consciousness until Bellatrix entered with a half knock. "Your robes for tonight. Merlin, I can't wait for this to be finished." She eyed Hermione, "You're a bit scrawny."

"Well, being ordered to hand over more and more food to a bottomless stomach you have to obey means smaller portions. I think I'm putting it back on nicely."

"Sure, sure, whatever. I'll let you wash and dress then."

"Thank you ever so much, Mummy Dearest." Bellatrix scrunched her nose at the name but said nothing before leaving. Hermione grabbed the soap bar and began rubbing it against her skin, being sure to cover all skin and wash her hair with the bar. Leaving her undergarments off she slipped into the white silk robes. She hastened downstairs to join her soon-to-be parents.

Rodolphus directed them each to their place in the chalk circle. He pricked their fingers adding three drops of blood into a goblet of wine. He stirred in the potion and murmured over it. "First, we each present Hermione with a family heirloom bearing the family crest, welcoming her into our houses." He handed Bellatrix a white cloth bundle. "Narcissa sent the family christening gown and blanket." He held up a ring, "And I have a Lestrange family ring for you." They each handed the items to her. "Now, we all drink."

Once they finished Hermione began glowing. Rodolphus nodded, "Right on schedule. Any physical changes will occur over the next three hours."

"Will it be painful?" asked Hermione.

He frowned, "The text didn't say."

Bellatrix laughed, "I guess we'll find out."

For the next three hours, Hermione experienced growing pains, sharp pinches of tightening muscles, a bright flash in her eyes, and a dull ache across her scalp. She examined the results with her new parents. Her curls remained as wild as ever, their new color a dark inky black. Her facial features remained the same, except for the steel gray of her irises. Her feminine curves were more pronounced wide hips, a fuller bust, and still somewhat malnourished waist. "Not too many changes," Rodolphus remarked. "I would recognize you."

"Recognized who?" Rabastan entered the room. He gave Hermione a cursory look, then did a double take. "Look at you, love. All done and legally a Lestrange?"

"Magically a Lestrange. The legal stuff is a handful of adoption forms."

"Yes, well congratulations on your new addition." He laughed, "They say the first year is the toughest, but I can't imagine you having too many of those problems."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, "I'm going to tell the Dark Lord we succeeded. And perhaps celebrate." She stood and left the room, over her shoulder she called out, "Don't wait up."

Rodolphus rolled his eyes at her antics. Hermione chuckled, "And that was the last any of them saw of the witch."

"Would that it was so simple," Rodolphus replied. "Are you hungry?"

"I know I should be, but not really. Should we finish the paperwork?"

"I already did, all it amounted to was changing your name and our wills to name you our heir."

"Um, if Uncle Bas isn't busy, could we talk? I don't know how much Lord Voldemort has told you, but I plan on telling Marcus everything, I should tell you, too."

"I'm free, and even if I wasn't I would drop them for you, pet," Rabastan promised.

They settled around the table in the small family dining room. "How much do you know?" she asked.

"That he was taking a special interest in you," Rodolphus told her. "You were wondering if you were under a prophecy. And Dumblefore placed you under obedience charms."

"Okay, then, here goes, I am able to trace my ancestor back to all four Founders, Circe, and Merlin. Hogwarts, itself, showed me. It labeled me their heir. I am the power mentioned in Harry's prophecy. We've been researching to see if it is a formal title. It does not appear to be."

"When you say founders?" Rodolphus started to ask.

"All of them," answered Hermione.

"You are distantly related to the Dark Lord?" questioned Rabastan.

"Yes. He is closer to directly related, but we are still both children of Salazar Slytherin."

"Amazing," Rabastan looked stunned, "you linked our family to the Dark Lord without marriage."

"Yes, well there is more," Hermione drew their attention back to her.

"Good or bad?"

"Bad. Dumbledore made me forget being a parseltongue and anything that linked my muggle family back to magic. He locked away part of my magic." Both protested this in anger. "I broke the blocks. Once I know what my place was supposed to be in all of this, I'll decide what I want to do next. It is a lot to think about."

"It is," Rodolphus patted her hand. "And we're here to help, let us."

"I will, I promise," she paused, "I know one person who will support any decision. May I invite her to visit, please? She knows I left the boys, just not the whys."

"I will want a wand oath for secrecy," Rodolphus told her.

She nodded, "I will let her know and make the letter a portkey. Thank you, Roddy." She frowned, "What should I call you?"

"Roddy or Rodolphus is fine. Father or Dad feels strange at this point."

"I like Uncle Bas, makes me feel young." All three laughed.

That evening Hermione sent Luna a note inviting her to visit later that week. The portkey would activate with a wand tap and the code word 'friends.' The blonde replied that she would see her then, and she was pleased to make any oath that would prove to Rodolphus Hermione would remain safe.

-oOoOo-

Anxious about seeing Marcus for the first time after her looks changed, Hermione fussed with her hair and applied and removed her makeup several times. When her insecurities flared up about ulterior motives, she took a deep breath and ticked off all the reasons why that seemed ludicrous. He went for pizza with her. He took her to the ballet. Hell, Bas had invited him, the only part of that he planned was dinner after. He wanted her to meet his friends and encouraged her to get to know them. He came to check on her when she was upset. It didn't feel like he was faking interest. 'Neither did it with Ron,' a nasty little voice in her head sneered. "We are not comparing anyone to Ronald," she firmly told herself.

Maisie delivered Marcus to the parlor Hermione liked the best. "I see the ritual made some changes, Miss Lestrange."

"It did," she managed not to sound self-conscious.

"You look," he struggled to pick the proper word, "different." He finished lamely. He sucked at being suave.

"Different good or different bad?"

He shrugged, "Just different. You still look like you with different hair color and different eye color. But, you're still beautiful, still sassy, and still smart. Not much changed. I like the changes, but I liked your old looks." She sat stunned into silence. He thought she was beautiful before. Marcus thought she was still pretty. Her eyes watered. Misinterpreting her tears, he panicked, falling to his knees in front of her. "Shite. Don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm stupid. Don't be upset."

"No, no, these are happy tears. I'm still sore about Ron and not seeing through him. It makes me second guess everything. I'm working on that, I promise. And even then Ron never told me I looked nice or was attractive."

He pulled on a curl, "We all have our insecurities. I know there are others with better looks and silver tongues who always know just what to say. As long as you want me, I'll try to ignore those feelings. And if my feelings change, I'd let you know. I won't string you along, all I can ask is for the same consideration."

"I can agree to that."

"Though, to be honest, you made a hell of an impression at 11, so I don't think I will be going anywhere unless you make me."

She grinned, "Sounds good, I don't have any plans to send you away any time soon."

He held up a bag of food, "When I let slip I was bringing you food, Mum freaked out and insisted on having the elves make something."

"Just don't be offended if I don't have much of an appetite."

"I promise not to pay any attention to your tiny appetite, or at least not any more than I currently do."

She rolled her eyes, "Okay, stalker." She patted the couch beside her. "Have a seat. This will take a while. Different people

know different amounts, but I want you to know everything. Then you can hopefully understand how upsetting this is."

"Okay." He sat next to her, facing her to give her his full attention.

Sir Hiss curled up on her other side, resting his head on her lap. She petted his head and took a deep breath, "There had always been signs I was different, accidental magic and the like. My parents never really believed me there was a 170cm talking snake in the garden pond, but they indulged my fantasy. They let Sir Hiss remain once they discovered him, but in their minds, he was not a pet, not could actually talk.

"Then I began Hogwarts. I never had friends in the muggle world. I was a know-it-all swot, with a tendency to be bossy. As a child, I had no patience for anyone not intelligent in the way I was. I was terrified I would be behind everyone else, having not grown up with magic. I wanted to belong, I wanted friends.

"The second or third week Dumbledore came across me studying Helga Hufflepuff's family crest on a display. I mentioned feeling like I had seen it, or something similar, once. He asked about it. I mentioned my mother's earrings. Then somehow Sir Hiss was brought up. He raised his wand and I forgot about everything. Before then I loved being girly, maybe not as much as Lavender Brown or Pavarti Patil, but more than I did after." She paused, shaking her head sadly. "I started studying more, constantly about anything and everything. I became a fanatic. I had been studious before, but never like this, but I didn't realize and no one else knew me before to know better. Halloween night, Harry and Ron saved me from the troll that Quirrell let into the castle. A troll I wouldn't have been in danger from if not for Ron. And for some reason instead of explaining why this was all his fault, I lied! For someone who kind of hated me. Why did I do that?"

"Obedience charms." Marcus began to feel ill, and he knew they had six more years to go.

"Obedience charms," agreed Hermione. "He ordered me to make friends with Harry and Ron. And stay friends, no matter how horribly I was treated. Anytime we had a falling out, it was the boys not talking to me, and me desperately trying to make things better. He also ordered me to help Harry with everything he needed, from homework to jumping through Dumbledore's test. And," she faltered, "put Harry first, even before my own safety." She blinked several times to clear the tears. "Every time my instincts screamed to get out, don't go, tell an adult, and Harry didn't want to, or didn't wait, I followed."

Absently, she stroked Sir Hiss. "Second year I spent half the year defending Harry and the other petrified. Did you know no one notified my parents about that? I had to explain why I had all this work to complete over summer break. They nearly withdrew me. I had to beg them not to. I was physically ill because Harry needed me. I had to help him," she ground out through clenched teeth. "I nearly died again and all I could think was Harry needs me, I have to go back."

"The next year, on Dumbledore's instructions I pleaded to be allowed to take every single class available."

"That's impossible," Marcus protested.

"Not if they give a fourteen-year-old a time turner," Hermione snarled. "Which the ministry happily did for the sainted Albus Dumbledore."

Marcus took her hand in both of his, "Why didn't you tell someone?"

She sighed, "Having forgotten about abilities and conversations, I didn't know I was being coerced. He never said 'I order you.' It was 'ask McGonagall to help you take all the electives.' And 'don't tell anyone about these conversations.' I had to obey, even if I didn't agree or know why.

"So, I spent the year stressed beyond measure. Repeating hours constantly, dementors everywhere you went, a werewolf, and that stupid broom. Then Crookshanks chasing Scabbers because he was an animagnus. And Ron being a foul git about it all. "

"Stupid broom?"

"Harry got a Firebolt from an anonymous person for Christmas. My orders to protect Harry made me tell McGonagall. She took it for testing to make sure it wasn't cursed. Black was out there and we thought he wanted Harry dead at the time. Ron was furious, and Harry always sided with Ron. They refused to talk to me for months, no Gryffindor did.

"And while they weren't talking to me, they also weren't helping Hagrid defend Buckbeak. Which I was working on because Harry told me he needed me to! Harry asking seemed to be the trigger for it to become order I couldn't refuse." She clenched and unclenched her fist. "We ended the year saving Buckbeak and Black while running from a werewolf and dementor swarm. Again, we nearly died.

"Fourth year I tutored Harry to survive the Triwizard Tournament. I was the unrecognized firth champion. I trained harder than any of them because Dumbledore wouldn't give me a hint of what was needed. I perfected spells years above my own because someone had to teach Harry.

"That was also the year Ginny Weasley started to get chummy. Probably because she is obsessed with Harry and becoming Mrs. Harry Potter. I wonder if she'll mind sharing him with her brother?"

"If she doesn't that's gross."

"True enough. I think Viktor worried Dumbledore that year. I made time for him. Even with all the extra work, I saw Viktor at least once every day. Sometimes we just worked on our homework sitting together in the library, but not always. And he made me believe I was pretty."

Marcus slid towards her, reaching up to cup her face with his hand, "I remember you at Yule Ball. You were breathtaking. I remember hating that lucky bastard, professional quidditch player and he could take you to the ball." He caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I cannot wait to escort you to a ball."

She leaned into his hand, "The ballet wasn't good enough?"

"You didn't dance with me."

"Okay then, dancing next time. Where were we? Yes, Viktor made me feel girly feelings that could expose the obedience charms, but he couldn't order me to not see him, that could have caused the same thing. Viktor once mentioned it seemed like when school was in session I forgot him. I think that was Dumbledore's influence. I stopped regularly writing to him around the start of 6th year. I expect that was Molly grooming me for her son.

"During 5th year the ministry was pretending the Dark Lord hadn't returned, Dumbledore was insane, and Harry was lying for attention. Add to that stress a petulant and moody Harry and Umbridge's reign of terror. Merlin, I hate that toad. I ended up near death again after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, with scars this time." She pulled her shirt aside to show a bit of the puckered scar on her chest. "Intellectually I know that Harry should have been more focused on the fact that his godfather, Sirius Black, had just died, but emotionally, I would have liked him to at least expressed concern over my recovery. But nothing all summer, even after he joined us at the Burrow. I had to go there so my recovery could be overseen by magical people. For some reason no one could come to me.

"That Christmas Sirius gave me an emergency port key to an island the Black family owns. So I could protect Harry, my continued survival would be an unintended bonus.

"I don't know when Molly Weasley was added to the obedience spell, but I know she started ordering me about during that summer. I started noticing Ron, imaging I could fancy him, and I had no idea why. And instead of me, he dated Lavender Brown. He delighted in rubbing his relationship with her in my face.

"While Ron got to have fun, and Harry got six or seven pensieve lessons about Voldemort, Dumbledore had me killing myself studying all manner of subjects." She scrubbed her face with her hands. "Harry said it took Dumbledore so long to tell him because he wanted Harry to have a childhood. He didn't give me the same consideration.

"I think Molly added Ron after the events of 6th year. He didn't ask me to date him so much as he told me to.

"I did, and I fell in love with the facade. Not that it would have mattered. Ron would have told me to marry him, and Molly would have made me ignore his affairs. I would have started to slowly die a little more every day. And no one would notice or care. Obedience charms cause the casters to become colder and indifferent to the victim. Because how could you do that to someone you love or at least care for?"

"I am so sorry." Marcus had no idea what else to say.

"While we were on the run, nothing I did was ever good enough. There was never enough food. Camp cooking wasn't Molly's mega meals. Ron doesn't feel comfortable enough in the muggle world, so he refused to hide there, or let us at least resupply there. And wearing that damned cursed item didn't help his moods."

She paused and shifted closer to Marcus. Instinctively, he turned her around and pulled her back to his chest. They sat spooning in silence for a few heartbeats before she continued. "The spell broke when I found them fucking in my bed! Two beds of their own to do it in but they had to defile my bed! I never got to do anything in my bed but sleep. I ran. The memory block broke when I saw my mother's earrings again."

She didn't bother to stop the tears, "I don't know if anyone will ever really understand how horrible Dumbledore was. He made an insecure little girl from the muggle world even more of an outcast. He twisted everything thing in my personality. All I wanted to do was study. I had a compulsion to dislike jewelry and fashion. He made me believe I was ugly. That my only worth was my brain, and even then only if I was helping Harry." She felt the tears falling onto their joined hands. Marcus's arms tightened around her.

"I still have no words."

"I don't need any. I wanted to you know and maybe start to understand."

"I think I do." He rubbed up and down her arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Angry. How many others did he do this to? How could any adult be okay using children like he did? What tale did he tell Molly Weasley to make her want to enslave me?" She squeezed his hand. "How many others ignored the warning signs? How many kept silent when their questions could have stopped it? And why?" She surged to her feet. "And why me? What was so horrible about me at eleven that I deserved to have my free will chained to another's. Is it was because I am a mudblood? My parents didn't have a way to stop him? Or this power thing from the prophecy? Why am I the disposable cannon fodder and Ronald Weasley wasn't?"She pulled away, standing. She hugged herself.

"Since Dumbledore is dead, I don't think we'll ever have answers." He tried to comfort her.

She whirled, "He has a portrait."

Marcus frowned, "He does."

"I wonder if Snape would let me talk to him?"

"Do you want to hear him confirm your fears?"

"I want to know what all he did, who he did it to, who knew, and who suspected."

"Do you want to go ask him now?"

She flopped back down next to him, "No, I think I want to spend time with you right now."

"I like that plan. Do you want to try to eat?"

"Not yet. Tell me about your quidditch match."

"Don't you hate quidditch?"

"I hate nonstop quidditch talk. I think my hatred of quidditch was hating that Harry was in danger and I couldn't save him. I enjoyed the World Cup and the games I went to for Viktor."

"What happened between you and Krum?"

"We went to Yule Ball. I was his hostage to rescue. I visited him that summer and the next. We never defined anything. We're still friendly. I should write him."

"Nah, no need to reconnect with a famous ex-boyfriend," Marcus tried to sound light, but inside he seethed at the idea. He felt insecure enough around his friends, and he knew they were mostly playing.

"Not even an ex-boyfriend. I'm not sure a handful of kisses and a little below the clothes action counts as a relationship." Marcus growled his annoyance. "Did you just growl?" she sounded amused.

He pulled her onto his lap. "I don't know, does a date or two and some kisses count as a relationship?"

"That depends on the people involved," she wiggled around until she straddled his lap. He lightly rested his hands on her hips. "Viktor was older and lived far away. It would have been unfair to both of us. We agreed not to be a couple." She ground her hips down against him. "Do you want to be a couple, Marcus?" She leaned forward to nibble the tip of his ear. "Do you want me to be YOURS?" she breathed across his ear.

His hands tightened their grip on her hips. "Salazar, yes, mine. Be mine," he whispered back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning down to capture his lips with hers. Instantly, he responded and dominated the kiss. One hand skimmed up her back to twist in her hair. The other moved to grope her arse. She moaned into his mouth and circled her hips down against his. They continued to snog in this manner until Maisie popped into the room. "Eep! Pardon, mistress, but master's dark master is here to see mistress."

"Thank you, Maisie. Please tell him we'll be right there." She rested her forehead against his, "Sorry."

He kissed her gently, "Don't be. We needed to stop anyway. I don't want you to take a step because you're emotionally fragile, or I'm being a jealous brute."

She smiled down at him, "My brute."

"You know it, little dove."

"Feel more secure?" She stood up, smoothing her hair. "For the record, I've considered us a couple since Luxembourg." She smiled nervously, "I hope that's okay?"

"You're the catch here, Hermione, not me."

"Oh, look you caught me. Want to come see Voldemort with me?" She offered him her hand.

"I can," he took her hand and stood.

Content her appearance was as neat as it was going to get at the moment, she led Marcus to Rodolphus's study. Both men stood when she entered. "My dear, Bella was correct, your new coloring suits you. You look lovely. Don't you agree, Flint?" Voldemort asked.

"She looks as beautiful today as she did last week," Marcus shrugged.

"Excellent answer, my boy." Voldemort retook his seat gesturing for them to be seated as well. "Worsley reports the NEWT results should be released tomorrow. Severus gave him the paperwork needed to combine Hermiones Granger, Spartis, and Lestrange into one entity. I wanted to let you know and request you join me for breakfast tomorrow. I would like to see you open them."

Hermione acknowledged the favor, "Thank you."

"All I ask in return is tomorrow you allow me to accompany you and the Lestranges to Gringotts."

She nodded, "I would have agreed to that regardless of favors rendered." She ducked her head shyly, "Though speaking of favors I wish to ask for one, more from Professor Snape than yourself."

"You don't need to ask my permission to ask my followers questions or favors. I think you'll find they will refuse you little."

"I want to question Albus Dumbledore's portrait. I want answers. I need a way to keep him from escaping or dodging my questions. I want to make him look me in the eye and tell me why, or prove the coward and refuse."

"I will let Severus know you wish to speak to him and ask around for methods."

"I appreciate your assistance."

"I promised to help you get revenge, did I not?"

"You did."

He gave her a half-smile, "There you go. Well, I shouldn't take up any more of your time. Thank you for indulging me, Rodolphus. Good evening, Miss Lestrange, Mr. Flint."

Marcus elected not to stay as well, "Training begins bright and early."

"Of course, I understand." She embraced him.

"Montague said to bring you over in the evening if you wanted. Start expanding your social circle past that bunch."

"That sounds acceptable."

"You are so adorable when you talk formal," he pecked her nose.

Rodolphus cleared his throat, "I have zero interest in watching you paw at my daughter, Flint. Good evening."

"Good evening, Lestrange. Good night, little dove."

"Good night, Marcus," she pressed her lips against his briefly. "Pick me up around seven?"

"Sounds like a plan." He left the room.

Hermione turned to Rodolphus, "Good night, Roddy."