This story was written for The Dark Lords Poison Christmas Magic Fest. All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.

Thank you Pamela RR for your help on this piece.

"It will be announced at the Christmas fest tonight." He could hear the uncertainty in her tone.

"It's for the best...Miss Granger." She placed a sheet of parchment in front of him.

"I need your signature here and here to approve the match." Voldemort paid no attention to the paper. He knew what was written. He wrote it himself. He placed his hand over hers as she pointed to the appropriate space. She instantly pulled back, as though his fingers were made of hot coal. Her reaction was irritating. But what was he expecting? He wasn't sure if he wanted her to beg for this not to happen...or to thank him. No. Begging him would be much better than her thanking him for letting her leave. He forcefully pulled his silver quill from its inkwell, hating the thoughts that were passing through his brain. He was ready. Ready to send her away for good. He would no longer allow doubt to flutter in his brain. Before the pointy tip could touch the paper, she grabbed ahold of his wrist. Something she would only have the nerve to do. Her touch caused the doubt to return.

"It needs to be your name." He knew exactly what she meant and provided her a fierce glare. "It's the only way the contract can be sealed and registered properly."

"I'm aware of how my Ministry and my contracts work, Miss Granger," he hissed.

"Then sign the bloody paper already!" He pulled his arm from her grasp and signed the contract hastily before handing it back to her. He watched her eyes narrow as she yanked the parchment from his hand, then turned on her heel towards the door.

"Hermione!" She took a moment before she turned to face him once more. He could see the glimmer in her eyes. The unwillingness to let tears fall in his presence. The memory of her exhausted body curled around a pile of stones flashed before him. He wasn't sure why he made the decision to pull her from the rubble, perhaps the thrill of his victory made him pity the less fortunate? Or, perhaps it was the heat that surged through his body the moment his hand gripped her wrist. Her anger, her power, was so intense, even as her body seemed boneless within his grasp. The jolt between them made her eyes open, her leer so powerful it took his breath away. Very few have ever looked at him without fear, but this girl, she was either brave or extremely stupid. It didn't take her long to prove the second option false.

"Do you really want me to do this?" The quiver in her voice pushed the memory away. Voldemort met her eyes again, witnessing a tear fall down her pink cheek.

"Yes."

Hermione nodded her head as though an understanding finally reached her. The sight of sadness in her eyes made him turn away from her. Again, a perfect example of why he needed her out of there. He had seen sadness, terror, and even pain in the eyes of many, but hers. Hers made him feel things. Things that were so foreign to him, so unfamiliar, that it actually caused his body physical pain. It ached to be away from her for too long. It pained him to stop himself from the urge to wrap his arms around her. She truly was bright. A light in his world when he knew it was surrounded by darkness. Darkness he created.

"Young Mr. Malfoy is the only person I can trust will take care of you. Be sure that his name is spoken clearly when he signs the contract and you accept."

"I don't want Draco...I want-," Hermione's voice trailed off. He turned in her direction, waiting for her to continue. Her eyes closed as she inhaled, he entered her mind, but her Occlumency was exceptional; one of the first things she learned after the multiple trespasses he made into her head. He was quite proud of the first time she shoved him out. The excitement she expelled was contagious and the embrace she provided him was even more exhilarating. Not letting go of him until her lips pressed lightly underneath his ear. Her breath on his skin was a feeling he kept locked away, deep in a corner that only he can access. "Is there anything else you need right now?" Her voice was now steady as his attention drifted back to her.

"Yes...there is one more thing." Voldemort pulled open his desk drawer, removing the gift he had purchased for her months ago. He stood from his chair and walked over to the young witch, holding out the box in his hand. "I think this will look lovely on you. It will please me if you wear it tonight." She hesitated, but her delicate fingers slowly untied the gold ribbon, allowing the top to open on the long rectangular box. A smile appeared on her face as her fingers gently moved over the multiple sapphires and diamonds dripping from a chain of antique gold.

"It's...beautiful."

"Happy Christmas, dearest." Her smile grew while her body moved closer to him. Her head tilted up, the space between them almost non-existent. "I suppose you can consider it an early wedding gift as well." The smile on her lips disappeared, leaving in its wake a Snape-worthy smirk. She stopped her approach and stepped away from him.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a few things I need to attend to before tonight's celebration." Her cold demeanor stroked him the wrong way.

"Everything is already in place. What is it that you have to contribute to?"

"Why, your Christmas gift, of course," she replied with a pout of her lips. "I also need to make sure my appearance is acceptable. It is my wedding night after all."

"Hermione."

"Now, now. I believe it might be best if you start referring to me as Lady Malfoy."

"I don't-" But she was gone before he could finish. Her chestnut curls were all he could see as she quickly turned down the hallway.

"I accept Tom Marvolo Riddle." The statement was so quietly spoken that the only indication there were words came from the wicked grin across her crimson lips. Voldemort's eyes instantly scanned his surroundings determining if anyone else heard the words that were spoken.

The others gathered around the festive dining table were too enthralled in their Christmas Eve fest and drink to take notice of the thin golden thread that twisted around his and her finger. Voldemort watched as Hermione lowered her eyes to see the golden wisp swirling around her finger turn into a solid piece of perfectly round gold. In her other hand, a recognizable piece of rolled parchment glowed the same color before vanishing. She raised her head towards him, along with her glass of red wine.

"Congratulations," she said, the same wicked grin once again appearing on her lips. Her bright brown eyes watched as his long fingers gripped the smooth velvet of his chair armrests. "Relax, dearest," she whispered. "It's a celebration." He had to control himself. He refused to accept or acknowledge the power the young witch had over him, especially in front of his most loyal. The witch giggled, continuing to drink as though nothing had just occurred between them. Once her glass was empty, the woman in question stood from her chair to his left and without a word made her way to the dining hall doors.

"Girl! Where are you going? How dare you leave without permission!" bellowed Bellatrix, causing the group around her to take notice of Hermione by the large wooden doors. Voldemort watched as Hermione turned her head to meet the dark eyes of Bellatrix. She looked powerful and beautiful as she scowled at the older witch.

"Fuck off, twat." Hermione proclaimed, then walked out. Laughter echoed throughout the dining room, causing Bella to stand from her chair and withdraw her wand.

"Bella." The timbre in his voice silenced the entire room as the dark witch made eye contact with her master. Voldemort raised from his chair, placing the napkin that was on his lap across the plate of uneaten food. "Leave. All of you." The dining room was hushed except for the scratch of wood across the marbled floor, as his guests started to rise from their chairs. He raised his hand, and as if on queue, the thunderous sound of Apparition filled the room as his Death Eaters vanished, except for one. Voldemort started at the witch, he had other matters to attend to and she was not one of them. "Bella...I believe my command was clear." The witch bowed and a second later he was alone.

Voldemort looked down at the bright golden ring on his hand. Surprised how the small piece of metal felt weightless around his long pale finger. He couldn't stop himself from rubbing his fingertips over the smooth finish. Doing so, causing the small engraved Runes to glow, then slowly fade away. Home, Protection...Happiness. He closed his eyes. Was that it? Was that what he felt from the touches and innocent kisses she would leave lingering on his skin.

Walking up the grand staircase of the once derelict Riddle Home, he stopped in his tracks. Standing on the stair landing before him, was the matter he had to attend to. Her long white dress simmered from the lights of the enormous Christmas trees she insisted the house needed. Her hair was down, allowing her curls to cascade down her back.

"I should end you right here and now." His facade was stoic compared to the chaos of emotions inside him as he watched her.

"By all means, do as you wish." He continued to walk further up the stairs, casually taking each step one by one.

"I'm not sure if I should be furious or inspired by your chicanery?"

"I have had limited to no choices since you saved me. I simply gave you the same treatment."

"Revenge is my gift?" Hermione looked down at her hand. He watched as her finger rubbed the bright golden band. The same kind of attention he gave his band just moments ago.

"No...not entirely." He knew he was smiling (at least his idea of one). She seems to have that effect on him when he knew she was thinking. Over thinking a solution that played in her head. "There's also...other things. It's just...you wanted me to leave! What was I supposed to do? You would have never tried to stop the charade. I figured-" She didn't notice his proximity during her frail explanation, because now his lips were pressed against hers. He could feel her warmth saturated through his clothing, caressing his skin. He ached to feel her entire body against him. The ferocity of his passion grew deeper as her mouth opened, his tongue easily finding the entrance, savoring the taste of her. He wanted this. He had wanted her. Hermione pulled back, resting her forehead against his.

"I believe, it's time for the rest of your present."

"Can it not wait?" he asked, tilting her head so their eyes could meet.

"I wholeheartedly believe neither of us wants to wait." His brow furrowed.

"And what could possibly be more important than this, witch?" Her smile was beautiful as she cupped his face in her hands.

"Why, the consummation, of course." Immediately Hermione was in his arms bridal style, her arms wrapped around his neck as he led them to his chambers. He could feel his erection rub against his trousers as his wife peppered sultry kisses next to his ear. "Happy Christmas, dearest."

That night, Lord Voldemort was reminded just how powerful his witch could be.