Notes: Thank you all for being awesome. I hope you're well and safe.

~*~ Twenty Six ~*~

It felt like she was under water, drowning and floating, fighting yet serene. It was everything at once and nothing at all. And yet she was not alone in the silky darkness that caressed her every nerve, saturating her completely. She could feel him, could feel the ravenous hunger and unfettered desire as if they were her own. And yet there was no up or down, no orientation in the night that sagged in upon her.

Precious. He spoke and yet it was not aloud, it was in the very fiber of her being, the lost depths of her broken soul.

She turned a circle in the midst of nowhere, searching for him, knowing he was far beyond her reach. "You're not real."

His dark chuckle sent an echo of a shiver down her spine, a memory of another time, another person. I'm real. Don't be so naïve, my dearest wife. I'm simply not there. But we are never far apart, not truly.

A tremor rattled through her, all too real. He was in her, some ravaged fraction of his soul abutting hers. She closed her eyes, but it was the same infinite void as when they'd been open. Wherever they were, it wasn't physical.

"What do you want, Tom?"

Hermione swore she could feel his breath on her neck, searing into her skin, as he answered. I want my wife back. I promised you everything and now you're running from me. I can sense you, my dearest wife. I know you haven't gotten far even if the Malfoy spawn is helping you.

"I'm not yours to have, Tom," she hissed into the abyss. "I was never yours. You only made me think I was. You took my will, my sanity, and you used me. No matter how you truly feel about me, if you even bother trying to atone, I will never forgive you for that. I remember everything now, every time you pushed my mind to accept what you wanted, every time you took my body without my permission."

He sighed, a rasp in the gluttonous night, at once real and illusory. You will always be mine. I never made you feel anything that wasn't already inside of your head. I never made you do anything you didn't already crave. When I first saw inside your mind, you already wanted me. We hadn't even met and you were wondering what my lips would taste like on yours. So despite your designs to kill me, I gave you what you craved. You've always liked what I gave you, my dearest wife. You need me. And now I love you more than anyone else ever could. You are mine, but I am also yours.

There was a truth in his words that haunted her, that tore at her confidence and tempted her to doubt. But she wasn't the same person she'd been, turning to Tom to ease the unrelenting ache of darkness in her soul, running from pain for so long she had no idea how to stop. She'd survived Tom's sordid manipulations and now she'd been given a glimpse of true freedom, not the momentary relief she'd found in his arms. It was an opportunity she would not waste.

"You took my agency, Tom. I don't care how much my body wanted what you did or how much I actually might have liked you. It was my right to decide what I wanted. Not yours. You made Malfoy watch, for Merlin's sake. I didn't want that. I know I didn't. You used me like a tool to solidify your power over him. That's not the way you treat someone you love. And you sure as Hell don't own me. I am not and will never be yours."

Bold words for a girl who gave up her integrity, her entire purpose, at the drop of a hat to escape her demons. I didn't do a single thing to your head in the hallway after our duel. You chose to kiss me entirely of your own free will, my dearest wife. Then you kept coming back for more, knowing exactly who I was, what I was capable of. You knew and you still chose me. You'll always choose me. There was a certainty in his statement that rent her, that reminded her how true his every word was. Until his conclusion.

"I may have kissed you, but I never truly chose you. You never let me. Whatever I wanted, it was influenced by you. You took away my fear, my doubts, my ability to think rationally. Who knows, Tom, I might actually have pursued you, but we'll never know because you took that away from me. You gave up any real chance you might have had with me when you took away my ability to decide for myself. You never gave me the chance and now, when I'm free to do as I please, I promise, I will never choose you." Hermione smiled into the void, satisfaction thrumming through her. It felt good to fight back, to stand up for herself to the boy who had stripped her of everything.

I will not let you be taken from me. You are my wife and I will find you and return you to your rightful place at my side. I will burn the world until I find you if that's what it takes.

She could feel his rage, quiet, but slowly building with each refusal, his mounting frustration struggling with his twisted notion of love and desire. Good. Let him suffer, let him know what it was to be denied. "Go to Hell, Tom."

Not without you, dearest wife. The saccharine caress was back in his voice, his emotions under control again. Now tell me, where are you?

"I don't know." And she really didn't. Malfoy had made sure of that. They'd been travelling for a little over a fortnight, but she had no idea where they were or what direction they moved. He'd been careful to only wake her when necessary, for sustenance and sleep. Otherwise she traveled at his whim, trusting him to find a way to save them both, if only for another night.

She could feel Tom's distress rattle through her as his control snapped, his snarled words a roar in her head. You will tell me where you are.

There was compulsion behind his demand, a tug at her mind that had her thankful for Malfoy's abundance of caution. "I really don't know."

There was only a moment of twisted rage, boiling through her, before the agony hit full force, a tidal wave of pain flooding her every sense. It boiled her blood and frayed her nerves, vivisected her organs and set fire to her soul. It was a perverse poison coiling through her heart, shredding her lungs and taking away her breath in a single moment. And then it was gone as quickly as it had come, the tang of regret lingering in the heavy, not-quite air.

Tom's cry was softer than satin, laden with remorse. Hermione… Oh, Salazar, Hermione.

"Hermione!" Tom's tone morphed, his words suddenly harsher, more real. "Damnit, Hermione. Bloody wake up!"

There was a splash of icy water across her face and then she was shooting upward, breath heaving in uncontrolled pants. Icy drops fell from her lashes as she blinked her eyes open, meeting the stormy stare of Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, not Tom. Safe.

She gasped in another handful of breaths. "What happened?"

"You just started twitching. It looked like you were trying to say something, but your mouth just opened and closed, no words came out." Malfoy shot her a severe frown before he continued. "And then your whole body convulsed, like you were under the Cruciatus. I tried to wake you, but it seems only the canteen in the face did the trick."

"Tom," she breathed, voice ragged. "It was Tom. He was trying to figure out where we were."

Malfoy shifted, growling, "Riddle?"

Hermione nodded, the magnitude of what had just happened settling over her. "He talked to me. He's figured out how to use the connection between us."

His lips twisted into a familiar sneer. "Of course he has." Malfoy kicked a nearby stump, his boot connecting with a dull thud.

"This is the reason Dumbledore had Snape teach Harry Occlumency. To protect his mind from the link to Voldemort. Of course, that means the old man knew Harry was a Horcrux and never bothered to warn him of what was coming." She sighed. "But I suppose that's neither here nor there now."

Malfoy leaned back against a pine, arms crossed and expression inscrutable. His coat pulled tightly across his shoulders and she was reminded how much broader he was now, how much more of a force to be reckoned with he had become. "Our last foray into Occlumency training yielded stunningly terrible results including your marriage to a madman."

"I didn't trust you and he was taking advantage of my blackouts."

He raised a brow. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Granger, it takes more than simply trusting me to do this. You have to truly want to succeed and not just in an academic, surface level sort of way. And you have to stop losing time. I know it isn't something you can directly control, but maybe if you're in a more stable environment we can find ways to prevent it."

"He just tortured me from a distance, Malfoy. Believe me, I have no choice but to succeed. And I think the blackouts are a result of the trauma, of not having anyone to trust, or a safe place to sleep, not having my basic needs met." She swallowed, throat suddenly dry. "But I feel… safe with you."

He blinked at her. "Oh. That's good then." He shook his head, and stared out at the multitude of frosty trees, lips pressing into a grim line. "The amount of power, the strength of the connection between you two. It's completely unnatural. The only other links I've ever heard of that has that type of power are various mating or wedding bindings. All long out of date and generally used to subjugate one of the partners."

That was unsettling on a whole different level than Horcruxes side effects. Her pulse hammered against her temple as she stared up at Malfoy, searching his troubled features. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"There's a significant chance the Horcrux isn't the only thing binding you to Riddle." Malfoy sank into a seat at the base of the tree, elbows resting on his knees, focus never wavering from Hermione. "What else happened that day? Besides the creation of the Horcruxes?"

"We got married and… and we had our wedding night." Just remembering the fusion of their desires, the heady depths of pleasure had Hermione blushing.

Malfoy cleared his throat, but she could feel the prickle of his continued examination. "Anything unusual about the wedding night?"

"I wouldn't know," she snapped, pointedly refusing to look in his direction. "It's not like I've been married before."

He sighed, long and deep. "I suppose not. From what I recall of mine, it felt different than before, with the commitment between the two of us made formal. But it wasn't like there was suddenly a new connection between us, simply that the connection that had always been there was deeper."

That made sense. That was nothing like what had happened that night in Riddle House. "I assumed it was the Horcrux. I could feel the piece of him in me, but I could also feel every single one of his carnal desires like they were my own. It was the most connected I've ever felt to anybody."

And wasn't that the horrible truth. Even knowing exactly what Tom had done to her, a part of her yearned for the depth of that connection, the absolute security she'd felt blanked in him, mind, body and soul. It made her hate him; it made her wish he was here. Hermione swallowed, bile thick on her tongue at the realization.

Malfoy was at her side in an instant, gloved hands holding back her hair as she wretched onto the forest floor, shoulders trembling and mind cracking. Her cheeks were wet, chilled by the stiff breeze. Her throat was raw as she collapsed against Malfoy, resting against his chest as he drew his arms gently around her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

His grip on her tightened a fraction, his breath a welcome warmth at her neck. "You have nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault. He did this to you, Hermione."

"You said I shouldn't have been so willing to let him use me. That I shouldn't have looked at either of you like that. And you were right." It took nearly all her energy to force the words out, to unearth the ugly truth she'd been fighting. "My weakness, my need to connect physically, that's what caused this. It's my fault."

"No," he said firmly. "No. I was an idiot. I only meant to tell you I was worried about your attitude toward sex. I was in no way implying that you caused Riddle to take the liberties he did. You did not. We both know that the minute you looked at him the Great Hall, he had his hooks in you. That means he was influencing you from the very first moment you met. He likely had even divined your intent to kill and decided to have a little fun first. Of course, I don't think he planned to fall for you."

"He didn't," she affirmed, relaxing into the warmth of Malfoy's embrace. "He told me on our wedding night he didn't mean to love me, but that he did. Merlin knows why."

There was a long silence with only the murmur of the forest—the distant call of a hawk, the squeak of a rodent—to fill the space. Finally Malfoy shifted until Hermione had no choice but to meet those tumultuous eyes. He was canted over her, her head nearly resting in his lap now. "You're so much stronger, more powerful, than you think, Hermione Granger. Riddle is drawn to powerful things. It's little wonder he wanted you. Your entire world has been stripped away and yet you're still fighting. That's true strength."

Hermione frowned, unable to believe him. "I don't feel strong."

"You don't have to."

She let her head fall back to rest on his thigh, but the hiss that escaped his lips had her shooting upright. "Shit. Sorry."

He tried to smile around a grimace. "It's okay."

"It's really not. You've been carrying me through the forest with a leg that doesn't even work properly and I haven't even remembered that's got to be terrible for you." That guilt, on top of her certainty that Tom wouldn't have been half as successful if she hadn't been a willing conquest, made her stomach drop and the urge to vomit return.

"My leg works just fine, Granger," Malfoy bit out, clearly still recovering. "It just hurts like bloody hell. There is a difference."

Hermione crawled across the frozen ground, twigs and needles digging through her gloves as she maneuvered to slump beside Malfoy where he sat stiffly against a fallen log. "Some pair we make."

"Bloody disasters."

"So when do we start Occlumency again?"

He rolled his head to glower at her, stormy eyes crisscrossed with pain. "Give me five minutes."