Chapter 2

Once she had escaped his defences, which were challenging to say the least, she began to wonder what she would do with herself. She looked around at where she had apparated, without second thought. She had gone to the burrow. She looked up at the crumbling building, which was the same as ever. Her heart fluttered, as it had not done for a long while. The sight of this familiar old building filled her with comfort like nothing else.

She tried to force herself to turn back, to go and check in with the order, see what was going on. Although it was so early in the morning, there was sure to be a hive of activity at headquarters, there always was. But a guilty thought stole into her brain. She was a witch. She could do anything.

Before she could give her self time to chicken out she was in Ron's bedroom, standing by his door, having performed a disillusionment charm on herself, she knew he couldn't see her, even if he did wake up. He was lying in bed, fast asleep, his mouth wide open, as ungraceful as they come, breathing heavily. His hair was ruffled and he had thrown his sheets half off in the heat of the night. She remembered those check pyjama bottoms, remembered their softness and longed to be cuddled up to him again. Her back against the smooth warmth of his naked chest…She stopped herself.

She was supposed to be the mistress of control. She felt her cheek and realised she had been crying. Crying with longing and loss. Loss of that safety, that complete love she had known. He may forgive her one day, realise why she had to do this, once the war had been won. She turned and left, battling the Weasley's security defences far too easily. She wondered how she could warn Molly and Arthur that they needed to improve the protection on their house, without admitting to her break in.

She returned to a place she often went when she had time to herself, and was not in the mood for company, (which was usually only Harry nowadays.) She had not seen her family since she took on this task, she couldn't take that risk. She had apparated to a bench overlooking the sea. It was a lonely bench, she often reflected, this was such a hard to reach part of the coastline that few muggles ever visited it and it appeared that witches and wizards did not bother. It was a shame, as it was such a beautiful place, often reflecting her thoughts, today it was warm but the sea was choppy, smashing against the cliffs below with a deafening roar.

As she gazed out to sea she pondered something that she often thought about. Did Voldemort have sexual feelings? If he did, it would certainly make getting closer to him a lot easier, but could she bare it, could she lie to that extent? She thought about who was said to be the like a muggle equivalent of Voldemort: Adolph Hitler. He had had a mistress, but of course he had not had his soul ripped in to 7 pieces. But did his soul affect his sexual appetite? Had he risen above that? It could be something to offer him further control, which he would of course relish, but he would have to lower himself to a certain intimacy, to allow certain urges to control him. Could he bare that? Did he even have the right equipment? After all, the rest of his body was so twisted. Hermione tried to suppress the urge to giggle and throw up at the same time. She looked round at a rustle she had heard earlier. She assumed she was just being paranoid as usual, he couldn't…

But he could. She didn't let her surprise register on her face as he moved towards her. She had covered her tracks so easily, had she not? No. She had forgotten. Her heart had been aching too madly to allow her time to think properly. How could she have been so stupid?

"I am disappointed." He sneered, "At how easy it was to find you, little one." He stretched out a long icy finger, stroking the side of her cheek.

She pushed any thought to the back of her mind. Her mind was blank and she was now acting on reflex. She smiled and leaned into the touch of his hand, as if longing for his touch. She did not allow any thought of Ron's warm rough hands stoking her to float into her mind. She was in control.

"But, I wanted you to come." She lied. "I desperately need to talk to you, and we never get any time alone together." She pouted, and tossed her hair slightly in an utterly un-Hermione gesture. At this, he bent his mouth into an abominable smile. A smile that could kill. Did she see his eyes, flick down to her breasts? She could not tell.

"What is it? I am a busy man. I am the ruler of an empire. I have not got time to waste on your silly stunts." His usual twisted charm had gone, this thrilled Hermione more than ever. It meant he was feeling the strain, the pressure to regain control of the situation. She was getting to him!

She smiled sweetly, touching his arm gently. "It is about Harry Potter" She saw that familiar red glint in his eye, which was present whenever she mentioned his name. "I went to see him this morning, when you said you wanted me to remain behind. Of course, I would never have disobeyed you if it had not been so very important. He wanted to see me, and I thought it was time to get some information from him. He swallowed my rubbish about having to visit a relative for a while. What an idiot! He looks weak. He wouldn't tell me where he had been but he's ruined, he's so ill, I've never seen him like this before." She finished with a seductive smile.

"What spells? What is it that has damaged him? I do not want to know Hermione if the idiot has simply flown into a tree and fallen off his broomstick!"

"Complicated magic. No wounds that I could see and he wouldn't visit St.Mungo's, but he could not fix it himself."

"How does this help me? I still do not know where he is and you insist you are not the secret keeper."

Hermione's heart beat faster, but she did not lose her cool. She knew that Ron was the secret keeper, he had stupidly insisted on taking the job. "We do not need the secret keeper. He is very rarely at headquarters or at his poxy home. You can track him down, I know where he is going"

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