A/N: A new chapter. As a warning This chapter is…well I found it emotional to write. It mentions the death of a child, child abuse and torture. Not something I usually write about, but it is part of Christians story. It's a different side to him. So, if you're not comfortable with that either don't read Christian's part or skip this chapter all together. Don't worry though nothing is written in graphic detail or anything like that!

UNEXPECTED SURPRISES

Two weeks later 2nd of January 2014

Department of Magical Artefacts and Curse Breaking

Two weeks. Two weeks.

Two whole weeks since I had heard from Christian and I was both pissed, upset and confused. If I ever saw his pretty face again, I would give that dark lord a piece of my mind. So much for being his and wanting to be with me, why can't he get in contact with me? Why do I have to glance at my phone every five seconds willing it to produce something from him, a message, a phone call, an email, a semi naked photo something. Anything. It's driving me crazy and if this was his plan all along it is certainly working.

I stare at my phone for what must be the thousandth time today. What disappointed me the most was that I had looked forward to celebrating Christmas with him. I stopped at that, did he celebrate Christmas?

It occurred to me that maybe he didn't. Being an orphan at Christmas time, probably was more like a reminder that he had no family. Now I felt thoughtless again. My gift for him was still sitting neatly wrapped underneath my tree.

I miss him a lot and so does Crookshanks. He persistently gives me an accusing look as if to say what have you done now? I have taken to sleeping in the sleep shirt I haven't returned, it still smells of him and it's comforting. Never thought I would think that, Voldemort comforting. It's laughable. My laugh slowly turns into sobs. I regret how things were left when we last spoke, my fear of the dark arts and Voldemort is warranted, but it has taken me two weeks to wrap my head around the fact that I don't need to be. He never once hurt me, he only defended me against Ron the one friend who was never supposed to hurt me. He valued my intelligence and listened to my opinions, no mocking about my book wormish ways because he himself is one. Ginny was right I need to think about my happiness and if he is no threat to Harry then what is the harm?

I sigh, that is all well and good, but if his radio silence is him not wanting to have anything to do with me anymore? Men's egos are so fragile. Maybe he had trouble understanding because he never really had any friends? He doesn't strike me as someone who had many friends, minions yes but confidantes no. I shudder at the thought of Bellatrix and how she used to throw herself at him. I wonder he ever...took her up on any of those offers? I hope not, although he is extremely attractive, he must have women flinging their panties at his feet as he walks into a room. What if he found someone else? I'm aware I'm a lot younger than he is and he must have...experience in that department while I only have Ron. Oh god what if I'm lacking? my self-confidence may never recover. I know my mind is filled with insecurities and self-doubts, but I can't help my thoughts spinning out of control. With no word I don't know what to think. Maybe I just need to try to move on.

Tom POV

Upstate New York around Midnight

2nd/3rd January 2014

It wasn't my intention to hurt Hermione, the way I know I have. But Christmas time and being so close to my original birthday brings unwanted feelings to the surface that I would rather forget. Never having a family at Christmas time at Hogwarts was the worst, all the pitying stares it was unbearable. I didn't want to be someone's charity case. Abraxas was the only person I accepted gifts from. He did it from a place of friendship and something more, not pity. This time of year, I missed my friend deeply and utterly unreservedly loathed my parents. I still have so much, almost unlimited anger at them. I often wondered how different life would have been with parents.

I went back to America to see Maria, she is what I am guessing that parental figures are supposed to be like. She had the house decked out with Christmas decorations everywhere. It made me cringe in disgust. It was just so festive. She told me to stop scowling from the window or I'll scare away the carollers. That was my plan. I went along with her plans because I knew she was upset, as it was her first Christmas without Ernest and she was compensating by fussing over me. Plus, she made my favourite chocolate croissants.

And so here I am sitting in my car on a deserted highway in upstate New York in the middle of nowhere, following this guy I have been stalking for the last few days. He has been on my kill list for a while, but he got relegated when I went to England but I'm here now, so I can finally bump him off the plain of existence. A revolting muggle. Me and my former self are on the same page when it comes to filth like him- who prey on children. This is my Christmas present to myself.

I have an unplottable location which I take my victim's too on occasion and show them the delights of my hospitality.

I watch as he parks off to the side, I wonder if this is a particular location he comes to often. I haven't had as much time as I would have liked to assess him.

After 10 or 15 minutes he gets out and walks around the back of the car, I frown what is he doing? He pulls out a shovel and rests it against the back bumper of the old crappy car he drives with flaking pale blue paint. A sense of foreboding comes over me. Even with the amount of people I have tortured and killed I have never been in this particular situation before. I usually get them when they least expect it, often at home late at night. This is different. I sit up straighter in my seat watching as he leans back in to the trunk and lifts something almost effortlessly out of it. It's not until I see a small hand poke out the side of the blanket? Rug? That the full comprehension of what was happening was apparent. Anger, no rage boiled up inside me like a growing thunder storm imminent on the horizon.

I take deep breaths to calm my simmering anger, I need to control myself otherwise this will be over before it has started. And if he is doing what I think he is doing then I want to make this last as long as I can. I want to savour his demise. I cast a silencing spell on myself and the car door. Not wanting to spook him and spoil the surprise. I watch as he lowers what I now know to be the body of a child wrapped in something onto the snowy ground. How this idiot thinks he will dig a shallow grave in frozen solid ground I will never know. Clearly, he is an idiot. Another strike in the reasons for death column. He fusses around for a while, shovelling snow after 5 minutes I've had enough. I stun him from behind and watch as he falls face first into the snow. I don't bother moving him, he can suffocate for all I care even though it will ruin my fun.

I hesitate before I crouch down in front of the thin black quilted blanket. I suck in a sharp breath before pulling it back, knowing I can't unsee what I am about to see. I cast a quick lumos so I can see a little better as the only other source light out here is the internal light from the trunk of the car.

It's a little girl of maybe three or four years old. I clench my jaw, I must be visibly vibrating with the amount of suppressed rage. I take off one of my gloves and press two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. I know it is useless, but I do it anyway. There is nothing there. She is so pale with blue tinged lips. Her hair is a matted mess of knots and dried blood. She has bruises around her mouth and I squint is that..? I grip my wand so tight I can hear the wood creak under the pressure of it. Smeared semen on the right side of her cheek. I look down her little body, she is wearing a ripped neon yellow shirt with a depiction of a unicorn on the front covered in copious amounts of glitter, and pink underwear also with unicorns on them. No pants or socks. I look closer at her thighs, small purplish bruises mar her clear skin, they look like finger marks. There is also blood and semen streaked on the inside on them. I let out a ragged breath I didn't realise I was holding.

I close my eyes thinking about what I was about to do. I stand up and flip over this horrible excuse for a human being. I want to see his fear and know his end is coming.

The man is looking at me with frightened eyes, they begin darting around wildly trying to probably work out an escape not that he is going anywhere.

I look back down at the little girl. I smile at her, I bend back down and run my hand down her face. I want to remember this moment not that I think I'll ever forget it.

"Don't worry little one I'll get your revenge for you. You can be with the unicorns now", I chant over her body, she crumbles into dust. I transfigure the dust into glitter and send a small gust of wind to pick it up and the glittering mass swirls away into the night. I'm not heartless enough to let her body be found like this and her parents and others having to see her that way.

I turn back to the filth with cold eyes, great he has wet himself. Why do they always have to piss themselves, seriously, can't they just hold it in? They're grown men for fucks sake.

I grab him roughly by the shirt and drag him over to my car and shove him in the boot.

I'm going to enjoy this, I think with a cruel smile.

Hermione POV

Hermione's Apartment

2nd January 2014, 6pm

I get home after a long day at work. I have managed to figure out who the mystery third person was that was part of the scheme with Pascale and Silas. His name is Miles Petherbridge and he has only recently graduated from Hogwarts. I had to be careful with who I asked, because I didn't want somebody tipping off Pascale. I can handle Silas, but Pascale strikes me as impulsive and that means unpredictable in some cases. I will approach him tomorrow and try to get him to spill and give me that ledger.

The cuneiform is coming along slowly, I wish I was faster, but this really is interpretive. Like water, seed and son, uses the same symbol, it depends on the other text as to how you would interpret that symbol. I have 'man' now, so it could potentially be the 'soul of man' or the 'life of man', in reference to Nebuchadnezzar II. I guess I'll have to wait and see what else I can manage to get translated.

I look over at the Christmas tree maybe I'll take it down this weekend. My eyes fall on to the single present still underneath the tree, wrapped in emerald green paper and silver ribbon. I know it's a Slytherin cliché, but I couldn't resist. If I don't see him again, I guess I'll contact the American Ministry and send over his present. I can't exactly regift it to anyone else, so it seems a shame to not give it.

Once in my pyjamas no not the Hello kitty ones from before, but they are pink with owls all over them. I relax on the sofa closest to the fire and get cosy for a good read before bed. I puff up the pillows and get the throw rug from over the back of the chair and wrap it around me. I recline and begin to read, but soon my eyes begin to droop and eventually close.

3rd January 2014 4:55am

I hear a knock at the door which startles me awake. I realise in my sleep muddled mind that I am not in bed and still out on the sofa, where the fire has died down. It's a bit chilly in here so I flick my wrist and the fire sparks to life again. They knock again, so it wasn't my imagination. I look at the clock at it is nearly five in the morning. Who would be here this early? Other than Harry or Ron. Oh, my what if something has happened? I get up quickly, slip my slippers on and walk briskly over to the door and yank it open without looking through the peephole to check who was standing at my door.

I get the shock of my life.

Christian

I stand their gaping in shock unsure what to say. He is covered in blood, like it is everywhere like he rolled in it or perhaps slipped. Did he create a horcrux? Where my worst fears coming true? Instead I stepped forward angry at him for everything, I even thought at one point he must be dead. So, I slapped him across the face, you could hear the sound echo down the hallway.

"I deserved that", was all he said. My eyes began to water. What the hell was I going to do? He turned back and I looked into his eyes they looked haunted, and he had dark circles underneath them. I faltered, I could slam the door in his face, but his eyes were pleading me to let him in and so I did.

"Oh god Christian what happened?", he opened his mouth to speak. But I held my hand up for him to stop.

"Go get in the shower first and then we'll talk, you're covered in blood I presume is not yours and I don't need you tracking blood in the house", he offered me a small smile in return, and he looked relieved. He must have thought I would turn him away. I tidied up and brushed my teeth while he was showering, I tried not to jump to conclusions before I had answers. He may have a perfectly good reason why he is covered in blood. As I turned the kettle on and set out some mugs, he entered the kitchen wearing the shirt I normally sleep in and some track pants he must have transfigured.

"Sorry I noticed my shirt in your wash basket, and I transfigured the towel into pants", he was hesitant, he wasn't sure about himself and he seemed vulnerable. The handprint where I slapped him was still evident on his cheek.

"Sorry I slapped you, I have been so worried and upset that it just boiled over" I answered as the kettle was whistling.

"No, it's ok I owe you and explanation, and I will tell you everything. I….just… I need a hug", I looked at him in shock he needs a hug? It was a momentous moment, he was never emotionally vulnerable, I was confused. Something happened, but perhaps not the way I had initially imagined it.

I could feel him shaking, was he crying? I held him until he had finished, and he straightened up. His face back to being a stoic giving nothing away, but his eyes did. I let him have a moment to recompose himself as I made the tea. I offered him the mug and we walked over in silence to the couch. He sat down and patted the spot next to him for me to sit. I bit my lip? Did I want to? I didn't want to give myself hope, then only for it to be crushed.

"Hermione, please sit. I'm sorry I didn't call, yes, I was annoyed about what happened and then it was Christmas and my original birthday. They don't have the best memories and feelings attached to them. I prefer to isolate myself because I know I am unbearable to be around especially on those occasions. I had planned on coming back earlier, then Maria needed help-"

"Maria?", I hope my voice stayed neutral as I wanted it to be.

"Jealous? You don't have to be jealous Hermione, I still only want you", he laced his fingers with mine giving them a squeeze. "she's an elderly woman I met through work, her husband died last year, and I help her out", I felt silly once again for jumping to conclusions before he has even explained himself to me. I sipped my tea, so I didn't have to answer.

"That's if you still want to be with me?", I looked up at him then, he was laying everything on the line. I took a deep breath.

"I do want to Christian and you will be getting a lecture tomorrow or today, later on whatever. I just need to know you aren't going to make horcruxes again or do anything like that again".

"I don't intend on doing that again, it was a mistake. I'm not a good man by any stretch of the imagination…I tortured and killed a man tonight Hermione. He wasn't a good man either and more than deserved it", he squeezed my hand almost painfully, something must have happened that made this different to the other times. I am not going into this relationship blind, I am aware he must do things that are morally reprehensible. The question is can I live with it?

"What happened?", he turned to me and looked me straight in the eyes, it frightened me what I saw. The coldness in his eyes, it was bordering on sinister. It made my hair stand up on end, but I wasn't going to back down. He was opening up and clearly needed to get this off his chest.

"I stalked him for a few days, a disgusting muggle. Don't feel sorry for him Hermione, he wasn't just a random muggle I picked. I selected him off the sex offenders list, he had slipped through the cracks. A child predator", I sucked in a breath the way he spoke of picking a victim should have bothered me, but it didn't. Honestly, I'm relieved it wasn't someone who was innocent. While I believe murder to be wrong…but paedophilia seems so much worse. And Voldemort agreed, I had never even considered his moral compass.

"What I hadn't anticipated was him having a victim with him", my heart stopped, oh crap.

"where….how…did..", I couldn't even get my question out, my brain not in sync with my mouth.

"I have seen a lot of things horrible things, hell I have committed most of them. But….I wasn't expecting the emotional response at seeing the dead little girl. Anger? Rage? Repulsion? All of those things..but I didn't expect sympathy or guilt. If I had killed this man earlier then she wouldn't have had to die. He had her wrapped up in a blanket. He was going to try to bury her in the snow. I stunned him before he could go any further. She was so pale and so small. She had unicorns on her ripped t-shirt and knickers. I disintegrated her body and transfigured the remains into glitter, to match what was on her shirt", he fell silent. I was silently crying beside him. Oddly I was touched by the thought he had had for the little girl, as morbid as it was transfiguring her into glitter it was a nice gesture. I threw my arms around his neck and climbed onto his lap, kissing him all over his face, making him chuckle to break the tension from this depressing conversation.

"What happened to the jerk?", I was angry at this unknown man for taking away an innocent life.

"I tortured him repeatedly, cutting off his fingers and his penis. Shoving it down his throat, making him choke. I cut strips of skin off, then cut his throat. I burned his body, swept him up and put his remains in the dust bin. He doesn't deserve anything more than the bin", he was callous, but I know that I couldn't have done what he did. At least I don't think I'm cut out for torture. A killing curse perhaps, especially if it was my own child.

"I promised her revenge, before I turned her into glitter", I hugged him tighter. It was obviously a little traumatic for him, even if he hadn't outright said it.

"She's in a better place now", I cuddled right into his chest and his arms came around and held me against him.

"She's with the unicorns now", I smiled a sad smile into his chest. I felt the rise and fall of his chest even out and his arms around me relaxed a little. I knew he was asleep. I sat up and carefully extricated myself from him. I leaned forward and gently kissed him on the lips. He was a good man underneath, twisted but good. I covered him over with the throw I was using earlier. I looked at the clock, I sighed it was just after 6, I may as well get ready for work. I watched as Crookshanks came over from his bed sniffling Christian's foot. Realising who it was, jumped up on to his lap and curled himself up into a ball. I scratched him behind the ears.

"You look after him Crooks", I looked at Christian one last time. What am I going to do?