Some bad news for you; I'm not sure when the next time I am able to update is. My computer has gone mental and decided I shouldn't be able to log onto it any more... I'll try and write everything on my phone, but that means everything will be typed slower etc. I'm planning on getting a new pc soon, but depending on how much work I get (I work as a call in temp, meaning I wake up most mornings not knowing if I have a job that day) idk when that would be. So I'm sorry if I can't update weekly like I want to, but just know that this story is not abandoned, and I am going to try my best to write a new chapter every week. Also there might be a lot of grammatical errors in this chapter, I will try and reread it again to weed them out, but if you notice any that bother you, please let me know. The wonderful purple breeze saw that I had replaced Rosier with Nott in the last chapter so I went through and changed them (again thanks for letting me know) which I think is because I've been reading the wonderful story "Tying the Nott " which you should all check out if you like fluff.

Thanks for all the love with followers and favorites, and my wonderful reviews (AliceEnchanted and Purple breeze). And I hope you enjoy some voldy silliness and Hermione pranks

Ps: I am considering giving Voldemort a ridiculous hobby, as of right now he is a very one dimensional character and I'd like to change that. So any suggestions on his silly fault is welcome (anything from muggles to magical to plain weird is perfect in my book) [I blame reading all of Rorschach Blot's stories and odd Ideas on the idea of getting him a hobby]

Xxx

Posse

Hermione had a posse.

A ridiculous thing for a friendless 12 year old but here she was, strolling down Diagon Alley with a dozen people following her.

The only one that was walking with her was her dad.

It had been an hour of going through stores and they had yet to talk to each other. The rest of the 'crew' nervous by their silence didn't dare to say anything in case they would face the wrath of the Dark Lord.

Hermione on the other hand, was bored and wanted this silence to be over. But she wasn't going to be the one to break it.

She still didn't have her wand, so wandlessly she cast a tripping hex towards her father. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to send him flying into the puddle in front of him. When he looked up he was furious, his eyes turning red in fury.

"Hermione" he growled.

"Dad I don't even have a wand, how was I supposed to do that?" She gave him her best innocent look, hoping he would buy it.

He checked his pockets to make sure, and of course there was both his wand and hers. "You sure it wasn't just you being clumsy?" She blinked, making her eyes big with fake curiosity.

"I am the Dark Lord!" he stood up and tried to brush some of the dirt off. "I am not clumsy!" he used his wand to take off the rest of the dirt, while Hermione had to fight the fit of giggles that was threatening to overtake her.

Hermione shrugged "If you say so." and sent a quick look towards the Rosier kid, which her father of course saw. His eyes narrowed, thinking the kid had been the one to send the hex towards him. Seeing her ploy working, she tried to put up pleading eyes, like she was hoping he wouldn't hurt Rosier.

But the Dark Lord was undeterred, and stalked forward, towering over him, making him whimper in fright. "Did you do it?" there was froth in the corner of his mouth, like he was a tiny angry pitbull.

Before the Rosier kid could try and answer, his father picked up his wand and cast priori incantatem on it, revealing the last spell to be a tripping hex. Of course at the time, he had sent it towards Hermione, this was just her way of taking revenge yet again. The added bonus of pissing her father off was a very nice bow on the top.

While her father started yelling at the boy, promising he was going to regret it, she snuck into the bookstore. Mulciber had been the only one to notice, and tried to follow her. He was not subtle enough and got yelled at by the Dark Lord, and couldn't get a word in to explain why he tried to get away.

So she got some peace and solitude again, being free to roam the bookstore at her leisure.

It didn't take long before her father stormed in after her, murder in his eyes. Absentmindedly she hoped that he hadn't killed the boy, she wasn't done playing with him. With the whole torturing of her being slightly derailed by her attempts to make his life hell, it had become amusing to have Rosier around.

"What do you think you are doing?!" There was the froth again, some foaming in his mouth, and angry red eyes narrowing at her.

"Looking at books?" she motioned towards the tomes she had been browsing with a raised eyebrow. "Like I told you earlier?"

"You didn't say anything." He seemed hesitant though, like he was trying to think back on earlier.

"Yeah I did, didn't you send Mulciber after me? He started going after me last I saw at least?" she continued down the row of books, picking up another one to look at.

"No I didn't" he furrowed his brows.

"My fault then, sorry Dad." She put the book back, leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he looked mortified. As she continued walking through the store, he was frozen in place by the simple intimate gesture that was common among parents and their children.

Of course, he was Lord Voldemort, and such small gestures of affection were foreign to him, something Hermione knew quite well. But she couldn't resist doing it when his response were so dramatic. And he had completely lost his train of thought, meaning she most likely got out of whatever epic rant he had about her not going off.

"All of these?!" the cashier gasped, Hermione had brought enough books to the register to fill a bookcase (or two).

"Yes please." She smiled at the cashier.

"Uh- and how will you be paying for them?"

"Dad?!" she called out, snapping Voldemort out of his trance. His eyes had gone back to the striking green the Pureblood ladies kept gushing about. Bellatrix had commented that they were uncannily similar to the color of her second favorite spell, which only the inner circle of Death Eaters used a lot, the killing curse. He walked over and paid for the books without thinking twice about it. The only thing Hermione knew without a doubt that they shared, was their love for books.

"Do you want me to shrink them for you?" the kind cashier asked.

"Yes please." Hermione answered.

But before she could raise her wand and do so Voldemort did it and snatched them with a sneer. "We'll manage."

He stormed out without a backwards glance, the cashier looking very shocked by his behavior. "Thank you." Hermione smiled again, and the woman looked at her with disbelief "Bye!" she said, and followed her father who was glaring daggers at the woman from the front door. Apparently Hermione had ruined his dramatic exit.

Sometimes she thought that he should be called the Drama Queen, not the Dark Lord. Before he could make eye contact and use legilimens to see her exact thoughts, she turned on strolled down the street once more.

"Ice cream!" she squealed, and ran into the little parlor before her father could stop her. When he and the aforementioned posse could catch up with her and stop her, she had already ordered and gotten herself one. "Which one do you want Daddy?" big eyes once more, and some scuffling from the Death Eaters to get away from his wrath, and still he did not answer.

"How about Licorice, it's black, like your soul." Any other person on the world might have gotten offended by something like that, but if the Dark Lord's heart could melt by anything, it was appraisals like that from his daughter.

"No." he responded, still not happy about being in such a brightly covered building.

"Then chocolate? Or Vanilla! Everybody loves Vanilla."

His only response was a grumble. "I'm not going to stop until you pick one." She singsonged as she continued devouring her own ice cream.

"caramel" he sighed, hoping to get this done with quick.

"Two scoops caramel it is!" she said with cheer, getting another cone from the man behind the counter, and skipped over to her dad and gave it to him.

"Let's enjoy it out in the sun!" and before he could say no, he went out after her.

Little cute innocent looking Hermione sitting at a table surrounded by a bunch of scary looking dudes in black caught many people's attention. She was positively beaming, while her father absentmindedly ate his own ice cream and the rest of the group tried to remain in the background. Hermione had to stuff her face to keep from laughing at the curious passers by, and the haughty looks the Death Eaters sent back at them and to her. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a slight twitch sometimes on the corner of Voldemort's mouth, like part of him was enjoying himself.

They were all so out of place, with dark clothes, pale skin, and horrid attitudes. The Alley was filled with people laughing and enjoying their time out in the sun, or having a joyous day off shopping. Why her father had picked this day out of all the others was curious, you'd think he would pick one of the many rainy days that london had, to keep from dealing with smiling faces like this.

Many a respectable lady gushed at the sight of Voldemort sitting in the sun with his daughter, Hermione caught words like 'Adorable', 'such a handsome fella', and 'wish I was with someone like him' and many a sighs of longing.

With every single one, her father's brow creased in annoyance.

"Do you have anything else you need?" she looked up to see the tip of his nose covered in ice cream, the surrounding Death Eaters silently debating wether or not they should tell him about it.

She took a moment to think about it "No dad."

"Good." He said, seeing her finished with her cone, he dropped his own without a second thought, to land on the Rosier kids robe. It smeared down into his lap, the icy goodness landing in his crotch, making him jump up and yell from the cold. Her father then stood up without a glance at the kid, and took Hermione's arm to lead her to the apparation point and take her back to her prison.

All in all, it was a pretty good day, and Hermione went to bed with a smile on her face, knowing she had succeeded way beyond what she thought she could. Using her father against Rosier once again might have been bad form, but for her it was taking out two birds with one stone.