A/N: Hello all! A special thank you to takingflight4 (HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!), ZoeyOlivia, Dc1687, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Hufflepuffhuggs, jacpin2002, decadenceofmysoul, booklover19a, and BeachGirl114 for commenting on my last chapter, I really do appreciate your kind words.

I'm uploading this a day in advance because I have two importing meetings later today and posting always takes some stress away from everyday life.

Again, thank you all so much for going along with me on this fanfic journey.

I'll see ya'll next week, and as always, enjoy!

Chapter 2

Hermione was led down the long, dark wood, hallway of Malfoy Manor by Narcissa. The Portraits of past Malfoys that hung on the wall whispered to one another as she passed by, side eyeing her as they did so.

"Ignore them," Narcissa said, her eyes on the path before her, "they're just nosey."

Hermione nodded, swallowing thickly as they turned the corner. Hermione was in awe at just how large the manor was, if all the doors lining the hallway was any indication, the manor was more like a castle than a house. The further and longer the pair walked, the more Hermione felt anxious, her heartbeat pounding in her head, the walls scowling closing in on her.

Narcissa stopped in front a large oak door, taking a calming breath herself. "He's in here," the older witch said almost confidently, though Hermione could see the Malfoy Matriarch's clasps hands shaking.

Hermione reached for the doorknob, her Gryffindor courage finding her again, "Thank you," she said to Narcissa. The other witch gave her a nod, stepping back and turning away from Hermione, disappearing into the hallway.

Hermione took another deep breath and turned the doorknob the warm smell of a fire filling her senses. She walked into the room, the dark oak walls and furniture looked ominous in the fire lit room. Other than the furniture, bookshelves lined the walls starting from the door, wrapping all the way around the room. The room had an eery feel to it and Hermione couldn't help but to roll her eyes at the attempt to make her feel uneasy.

She could see Voldemort at the large desk by the wide window at the other end of the room. He was leaning over the desk, scanning papers as he scratched away with his quill. Hermione eyed the man for a moment, noticing the way this scaly skin shimmered with the flickering fire to her right. Nagini on the other hand was curled up in front of the fire, no doubt watching her from her place.

Her lip turned up slightly, she turned to the bookshelf on her left, deciding that if he was going to ignore her, she would do the same. After all, if he hadn't killed her yet, he wouldn't kill her now, especially after who she was to him.

Hermione's eyes scanned the spines of the books, the old tomes dust and unused. A book about potion's atypical used piquing her curiosity, Hermione gently slid the book from its place, the worn cover barely holding the yellow pages together. She sat on the couch by the fireplace with her back to her grandfather, Nagini nodded up to her before coiling back, watching her silently yet again.

The witch turned to the first page, humming in delight to find that even if the pages were old and torn, the words almost looked like they were written the previous day.

"Are you just going to stand there and read?" Voldemort said after an unknown amount of time.

Hermione turned to the man with a raised eyebrow. He had "Only as long as you keep pretending to write." Hermione set the book aside, "you wanted to see me?"

The Dark Lord leaned back into his chair, considering her. "you aren't afraid of me," A statement, not a question.

Hermione stood, her back pulled back, and her chin up in defiance. "No, why would I be?"

Voldemort then stood, his long strides making it easy to reach Hermione quickly. They studied each other for a moment, willing the other to break first.

Hermione thought it was a foolish wish, so she decided that if she couldn't break him, she would do the next best thing…

"When are you going to take off the glamor?" she asked almost arrogantly, "Most of your horcruxs are gone, you're mostly human… of course… leaving one horcruxes slithering about," she finished, nodding to Nagini.

Voldemort stood stoically before her, though the way his jaw tightened was an obvious indicator of his discomfort. Hermione felt her lips curl upward. She looked straight into her grandfather's eyes, unflinching, as he tried to read her.

"You dont know what you're talking about," the taller man said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"The diary, the Gaunt ring, Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem, your snake friend, and Harry Potter." Hermione listed, "You have one left and, as far as we know, you didn't know Harry was a horcrux until just before you retreated."

The Dark Lord pursed his lips, moving his wand expertly moving the air as the air shimmered around him. Hermione turned away, the sudden bright light almost blinding in the dark room. The brightness receded, and when Hermione opened her eyes, letting herself adjust to the sark room once again, she was standing face to face with Tom Riddle, not Lord Voldemort.

Tom Riddle was still a tall man, his hair mostly grey but he didn't look a day over 50… Hermione just assumed it was one of the miracles of being a wizard instead of a muggle.

Hermione smiled, she was always right and she couldn't wait to rub it in Harry and Ron's faces. It made her almost giddy just thinking about it.

"I need a drink," Tom Riddle said, stopping the happy dance Hermione had going in her head. He walked over the desk and bulled out a bottle of fire whisky and a tumbler. "I would offer you one, but you're carrying precious cargo." Riddle said, nodding to her abdomen.

Hermione snorted, "I dont drink fire whisky anyway," she said, "it taste disgusting."

Riddle sat behind the desk once again, finishing off his glass and pouring himself two more fingers.

"Why do you want you want to see me?" Hermione asked, walking around the couch, sitting on its arm.

The man took a long drink from his cup, "does a man need an excuse to see his granddaughter?"

Hermione looked a him incredulously, "you mean the granddaughter that you thought was a muggleborn two days ago while that insane bitch tortured her on the floor until she said she was your descendent and pregnant then she was unconscious for two days… you mean that granddaughter?"

Riddle gave a firm nod, "Exactly."

"Fantastic."

The pair fell into a semi-awkward silence. Hermione studied the books along the wall while Riddle studded her. Hermione's nerves started to creep back up on her, self-doubt starting to take over the courage she had walked in with.

This isn't exactly how she imagined it going. She imagined curses, yelling, and more curse. Riddle, as it was, was partially civil, even if he was civil only because she was his blood.

"Don't you have questions?" Hermione asked, her voice almost uncharacteristically soft.

"I have several, starting with why you're here and ending with who the baby's father is." Riddle said, his eyes not leaving Hermione's face. "Come sit in the chair in front of the desk… I assure you it much more comfortable."

Hermione eyed the wizard as she changed her seat, sinking into the blush cushions with a sigh. She hated to admit that he was right about the chair being comfortable.

She also hated to admit how tiered she was.

"Can I ask you a question first?" Hermione's mouth asked before her brain could stop it. Riddle nodded and so Hermione continued, "do you still believe that half-bloods and muggle-borns are disgusting… that we're less than?"

The dark Lord considered her again, clearly trying to find the right words to explain, "with the Horcruxes mostly gone… things are different now."

"Good different or bad?"

"That all depends on who you ask."

Hermione nodded. "Did you know when a horcrux is destroyed, the soul fragment isn't destroyed with it? It simply returns to its original host and repairs itself to be better than it was before," she said with a questioning glance.

The man across from her shook his head, "I did not… that would explain a lot more than you understand."

It was Hermione's turn to shake her head, "I understand more than you know," she replied, putting her hand on her stomach, a self blush blooming on her cheeks, her eyes drooping slightly.

Riddles jaw tightened again, his eyes narrowing in contemplation, "the healer who tended to you when you were unconscious said you were about two months along…"

Hermione chuckled, knowing what he was eluding too, "The Battle of Hogwarts… a while before Harry went into the forest."

The wizard stood, "do you mean that someone—"

Hermione shook her head, "no… no… it was consensual, I swear."

He seemed relieved as he sank back into his seat, exhaling slowly, "then you wouldn't mind telling me—"

Hermione barked out a laugh. "Absolutely not."

Riddle seamed indignant, "Why ever not?" he demanded.

"Maybe because if I do you would kill the father?" Hermione said, "I'm not a fool, and I won't name him until I have a chance to speak to him, especially since he doesn't really know yet."

Riddle studded her for a minute, and Hermione watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly. "Understood…"

Hermione gave a small smile, trying keep her eyes open.

Riddle nodded, eyeing her with concern, "go back to your rooms… get some rest…" he said with certainty, "Nagini will escort you."

Hermione's eyebrows jumped, her eyes shifting over to the large snake that started slithering her way.

"But we haven't—"

"No buts," Riddle said, "We'll touch on why you're here more during dinner… granted, we would have less privacy, but that is a price I'm willing to pay."

Hermione stood, swaying slightly on her feet. Riddle stood up in an instant, ready to hold her up, but she put up her hand, determined to do this on her own.

Nagini slithered towards the door, waiting for Hermione to open it for her. She and the large snake moved through the halls, Hermione's slow pace growing slower as her body began to demand rest. They weren't too far from her room when she saw shadows in the distance. Hermione forced her eyes to focus when she realized who stood in the hallway not too far from her.

Parkinson, Zabini, and a very pale Draco all staring back at her.

"Is that fucking Granger?" Parkinson asked Draco through clenched teeth.

Hermione didn't bother listening to his response. Instead, she opened the door and let herself collapse on the bed. Her last conscious thought was about how Nagini was very heavy as the snake slithered onto the bed and onto Hermione like a blanket.