"Please don't go," Hermione begged, "I need you. I'm nothing without you!"

She was standing alone in an empty room, pleading with pure thin air. He'd left, apparated in the blink of an eye before she could come up with a valid argument for him not to leave. Her tears looked real, her pleading sounded genuine, yet that familiar skipped heartbeat made her feel giddy.

She knew that familiar pleasure, that giddiness. It was like when she came top in class, when only she knew the answer or when she mastered a spell before everyone else. She had got tired of bombarding her mind with spells, learning all she could, she wanted a challenge, only something she could do and she had found it.

"I love you," she whispered, sitting heavily onto the big four-poster bed that dominated the room. She knew he might still be listening. She let the tears fall slowly down her slender pale cheeks, soothing the angry tinge that had been there so soon before. She knew that getting angry with him never worked. She didn't understand it, where had this temper come from? She prided herself on being so controlled.

She looked behind her, a black rose appeared on the pillow behind her. It hovered above the pillow, she picked it up and the petals fluttered to the floor. His cold voice came from them as they fell to the ground, where they burned to ash.

"Don't leave," he sneered at her from nowhere "I shall want you here when I get back." But was that a hint of tenderness in his voice? She felt his hand upon her back, cold, but in some way tender, almost gentle. She knew he was not there. His magic was truly extraordinary. On an academic level, of course.

She would leave. That's what he wanted her to do and she knew it. She got up from the bed and crossed the room.

A year previously, Hermione is standing in Harry's front room gob smacked at what she thought he was asking her to do. The room could have been nice if it hadn't been covered in pictures, newspaper clippings, random words scribbled on bits of paper and bizarre objects littered here and there omitting strange smells and noises.

Harry, Hermione noted, looked a lot different now from when they had left school 7years ago. The war was still raging and the three friends were just as close, Hermione and Ron keeping their promise by loyally sticking with Harry. Harry had resigned to stay within the order and was now its new leader since they lost Minerva in battle. There had been so many losses, Hermione reflected, but she tried not to think about it. They were still strong, and she just needed to take one look at Harry, to feel confident that the war would soon be over.

He was stronger now. Every muscle in his face and body was defined. In everything he said there was meaning, in every step he took there was direction. His eyes were always focussed on the future, always calculating something behind that same old mop of black scruffy hair. He had forgotten his old shyness, his bad temper. He had grown into a determined and brilliant wizard, truly immersed in magic and his mission. He was a wonderful leader, inspiring hope and awe in all those around him. She looked at him, amazed at how far he had come.

"Yes Hermione," he said, getting to his feet and waking her from her thoughts. "That is exactly what I want you to do."

"But, surely its not possible, not reasonable" she wondered, more to herself.

"Of course it is. Look, you know like me, he's twisted, a non-human; he's nothing like us, yet he's still on some levels human. He still has his weaknesses. Everyone has their weakness Hermione. And we need to use them. God, I've thought long and hard about asking you this. You'll be in so much danger, and Ron is barely speaking to me. But I had to, I need you and if anyone can do it, you can."

"He has weaknesses?" she asked.

"Of course! We've always known that his weakness is his inability to recognise the most powerful magic of all. I'm not suggesting he can love Hermione. No, he is far past that stage; I do not think he ever could. I am suggesting that you are the most powerful witch of your generation. I am suggesting that Voldemort is the most power hungry wizard of his. I am saying that he will want to control you. He will notice that you won't submit. He will want to use you, but he will want to gain your trust and control you. He needs challenges Hermione, just as you do."

"It won't work! He is the most powerful wizard ever. I am nothing against him. What do I have?"

"You are the best Leglimens in the world! And you know it!"

"That may be so," she said, blushing madly "but I can't fool HIM."

"Yes you can. He is weaker than you know. The death of Nagini damaged him. His death eaters don't have a clue. His power drains them, they fall under, become nothing in front of his eyes. Powerful witches and wizards yes, but so easy. He wants to prove he is still strong, he wants you."

"No, he wants you."

"Hermione. Do you not see? Of course he wants me. But he knows you are close to me. He wants to collect you; you will be the pride of his collection. Remind you of Slughorn, doesn't it? I think he was quite inspired by his old teacher, you know. Surrounding him with the most influential witches and wizards. Not to hide his incompetence, no, he is in no way incompetent. But he does it to show his power, to show how he can control such powerful people."

Hermione took a deep breath. Could she do it, could she seduce Voldemort? Could she dance around his powers, keep him wanting her? Could she make him think he had got her? It was a far cry form her bookworm days, but she had learnt so much over the years and she was indeed very powerful, and had taken remarkably well to leglimency. She knew that Harry needed her now more than ever. But, could she give up Ron…?