A/N: Many thanks to RachaelLA26 for her beta work! Two more chapters to go!

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Chapter 16: Machinations

April 2003

Ministry of Magic

London, England

Hermione wasn't superstitious. She didn't toss salt over her shoulder when it was spilled, nor did she pick up pennies or knuts when she saw them lying on the street. She didn't have much opportunity to walk under ladders, but she wouldn't be afraid if she had to. Nor did she mind black cats, and she frequently carried her umbrella inside while it was still open. But it had been six weeks since Harry and his group—the Red Cloaks as Tom called them, Hermione preferred to call them the Rogue Order—had attacked them in Piccadilly Circus and she felt an ominous pall hanging over her.

She hoped it was just her anxiety and nerves.

After the fiasco in the Wizengamot with Kingsley standing up for Harry, Hermione was almost sure that Harry was keeping his head down in order to hold onto his job. She'd seen him a few times since she'd moved to the DMLE, but always from afar. Millie worked hard on making sure that Hermione and Harry never crossed paths. Something that Hermione hadn't thought she'd appreciate nearly as much as she did.

But despite all of that, the silence from Harry's camp made her nervous.

"Ms Granger?" Millie's disembodied voice came from the crystal ball on the corner of Hermione's desk. She tapped the ball with her wand.

"Yes?"

"Mr Riddle is out here for you."

Hermione sighed and smiled at the same time. "Send him in."

Tom had made it a habit to visit her in her office at least once or twice a week. His visits were never short. Nor professional. But Hermione couldn't find it in her heart to care about the professionalism—or lack thereof—of it all.

"You look good behind that desk," Tom said as he sauntered through the door. Millie closed it swiftly and Hermione felt her place a silencing spell around the room. Millie was also discreet. Another trait Hermione liked about her.

"I do, don't I?" Hermione cocked her head and smiled at him.

"You'd look better if you were just a little more disheveled," Tom replied. He crossed her office quickly and before Hermione could stand he was kneeling before, unbuttoning her robes and flinging them to the side.

"Tom," Hermione sighed, running her hands through his hair, bringing his face to her so she could kiss him.

Tom ran his hands up her stockinged calves, pushing her knees apart when he reached them. Hermione slid her bum further down in the chair as Tom hiked her skirt up to her hips. He slid her knickers aside and spread apart her pussy lips, sliding his tongue through her folds there until he found her clit. He began circling it and Hermione's back arched. It's not that she didn't love this, didn't love what Tom was able to elicit from her body, but on days he visited her, she was never as productive as she could be.

"Merlin, witch, what will it take for you to get out of that pretty head of yours?" Tom murmured against her cunt.

Hermione laughed softly, shifting slightly in her seat to open herself more to him. "Keep doing that and I'm sure I won't be thinking about anything but you." Her voice sounded surprisingly husky to her.

"You better," Tom growled and licked her from arse to clit. Hermione groaned loudly, thankful once more that Millie had the foresight to cast a silencing charm.

Suddenly, there were two fingers thrusting inside her and Hermione's head dropped to the back of her chair as she bucked her hips forward. Tom sucked her clit into his mouth, tapping it with his tongue in the way that set fire to Hermione's veins. Her legs spasmed and shook with her impending orgasm and Hermione's hands clenched into Tom's hair, holding his head so tightly to her that she was sure she was suffocating him.

When her orgasm finally ripped through her, it felt as if an explosion took place inside her. She screamed her completion in a guttural tone that echoed throughout her office. Tom took his time, licking her completion from her labia and thighs.

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes, totally relaxed in her desk chair. "Congratulations, you succeeded," she told Tom when he stopped his ministrations. She cracked an eyelid to see that he was smirking at her, still crouched between her legs. "What, no encore?"

Tom chuckled. "Nope. That was all for you. I have to get back to the Wizengamot. We're debating the quality of foreign Potions ingredients this afternoon. I wanted to have something to distract me…" he licked his fingers, seeming to savor the taste, "this will do."

"You are incorrigible," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"But you love me for it, fiancé," Tom reminded her, giving a small tug on the ring on her left hand and planting a kiss on her lips. "Better get cleaned up before Millie comes back in," Tom breathed against her mouth.

Hermione nodded, giving him one last kiss before sending him out of her office. Merlin, the things that man was capable of.

April 2003

Ministry of Magic

London, England

Eight weeks after the attack in Piccadilly Circus, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She went to see Harry. She didn't want to involve Ginny, so she decided to talk to him at work. It took some maneuvering, she didn't want Tom to know what she was doing, which meant that Millie and Pansy couldn't know either, but she'd found a pretense to send both Pansy and Millie on an errand, and snuck out of her office.

Harry's office was on the same level as Hermione's, although on opposite sides of the building. She placed a stack of files in her hands and walked quickly as if she were late for a meeting. Luckily nobody stopped her.

Harry was in his office, his face bent over his desk, pouring over a piece of parchment in front of him. Hermione didn't knock. She walked right in and shut the door.

"What do you want?" Harry asked coldly. He didn't bother looking up at Hermione. "I think I told you I wasn't interested in hearing what you had to say."

"Harry, please," Hermione whispered. "Please, just drop this thing between you and Tom. We'll let the attack at Piccadilly Circus go if you just drop it."

"Will Tom?" Harry asked, finally looking up at her. His eyes were as cold as she'd ever seen them and she fought back a shiver.

"Of course, he will. Tom wants peace," Hermione told him. "Ron has already lost his life to this senselessness. Let's let it die with him. Let's end it."

"Ron is dead because Tom killed him," Harry reminded her.

"No." Hermione shook her head. "He didn't."

"He did. Then he made a Horcrux," Harry's smile then was grim. "You were seen, Hermione. We know you were there when Tom made a Horcrux. You seemed to have sanctioned it."

Fuck, Hermione thought. She'd been so far gone with grief, she hadn't realized any of the Rogue Order were still about when Tom had died. There was nothing for it.

"No, that didn't happen!"

"It did," Harry insisted. "Where's the Horcrux Hermione? Has he used it up already? He was hit with the Sectumsempra, wasn't he? There's only one way to heal that spell."

He knows, flitted through her mind and before she quite realized what she was doing, Hermione had her wand in her hand and she hexed Harry.

Harry had always been the better dueler, he dropped out of his chair and rolled out of the way of her incoming hex. His office is too small for this, Hermione thought wildly as she shielded against the barrage Harry was sending her way.

"Is this how you feel about me?" Harry asked, panting, while Hermione sent a slicing jinx at him and dodged a nasty looking orange spell from Harry.

"I think you are being a child, Harry Potter," Hermione snarled. "I offered to settle this like adults!"

"You cast first," Harry replied, finally landing a stinging jinx on Hermione's shoulder. Thankfully it was her left arm, as the whole arm went numb and she'd surely have dropped her wand had it hit the other arm. Hermione tossed a pile of books at Harry from the bookshelf behind her.

"Arresto Momentum!" Harry shouted, stopping the books in midair. They fell to the floor with a clatter. "Really? You'd harm books? Who are you?"

"Oh, shut up!" Hermione shouted sending a blasting curse into the wall behind Harry. He ducked under his desk as the wall behind him flew apart. Hermione's shield kept most of the debris from injuring her.

Harry yanked on her foot, sending Hermione to the floor. Her wand clattered out of her hand with the impact of her fall and she twisted in a desperate bid to reach for it, but Harry had her pinned. He grasped her shoulders and slammed her head into the floor beneath her. Again and again until Hermione's vision began to dim.

"It's your fault Ron is dead," Harry hissed, putting his face right over hers. He was heavy as he straddled her waist. "I won't let Voldemort come back to power. I've spent my whole fucking life fighting him and I won't let him win now."

"Harry…" Hermione gasped. She was sure she was bleeding, not just from the head wound Harry had given her, but also from landing and scrabbling around on the debris-strewn floor. Books, wood, concrete, the floor was a mess and something rather sharp was poking into Hermione's lower back quite fiercely.

"NO!" Harry shouted. "You fucking listen to me! He killed my parents! He killed Sirius, and Dumbledore, and Snape! He killed everyone, Hermione. I don't understand why you can't see that?"

"He's not the same person," Hermione said. She still had her right arm extended, trying to reach for her wand. When it occurred to her that she had more power than Harry now. She didn't need her wand most of the time, especially not for little spells like Accio. Harry's face was enraged now and he reared back to hex her or shake her some more but Hermione took that moment to break her eye contact with him and look at her wand. A moment later and it was in her hand.

"Bombarda!" Hermione coughed, her wand pointed at Harry's chest. He flew off of her and into the wall opposite, slumping awkwardly down it. Hermione didn't wait to check on him. She crawled out of his office and was not surprised to find Pansy standing there.

"Circe, fuck, Granger," Pansy grunted at the sight of her. "Millie!"

Between the two of them, they hauled Hermione upright and shuffled her toward the lifts. The Ministry wasn't easy to get out of in a hurry. No Apparating in and out, except in the Atrium. Same for Flooing. Only the fireplaces in the Atrium were on the Floo network. It was the longest trek of Hermione's life. Everything hurt. She was quite sure one of her ankles was broken and perhaps a rib or two as well. She didn't even want to know what Harry had done to the back of her head, but she knew it couldn't be good. Especially when she realized she was seeing two Pansy's.

April 2003

Hermione's Flat

Diagon Alley, London, England

Tom hadn't seen Hermione in her office when he was ready to leave the Ministry for the day, so he headed home alone. Which was strange, they generally left together, so he didn't know why Hermione wouldn't have waited for him. Perhaps she had an appointment she hadn't told him about? He wasn't truly worried, because neither Millie nor Pansy had been in the DMLE either. Which meant at least she had her protection with her.

When he arrived home, the lights in the apartment were on, but still no sign of Hermione.

"Hello?" he called out as he hung his outer cloak up in the front hallway.

"Oh, Tom, you're back," Pansy said from the hallway that led to the bedroom. Tom thought she looked nervous.

"Pansy, what's going on?"

"It's Hermione. She had a little accident at work—"

Tom didn't need to hear anything else, he pushed past Pansy and sprinted down the hallway to the bedroom. Bursting through the door Tom's heart almost stopped. Millie was sitting on the bed, wiping Hermione's face. Hermione looked… dead. She looked dead, her skin was so pale and Tom thought he might vomit.

"She's just sleeping," Pansy whispered from behind him.

She didn't look like she was sleeping. She had a bandage wrapped around her head, another that was wrapped around her ribs, and her left ankle was propped up.

"What happened?" Tom growled.

"Potter," Millie sighed. "But I had her checked out already. Vaisey is a Healer at St Mungo's and came as soon as he was called. She's stable. Now she just needs rest."

That's when Hermione began to stir. Tom took two steps into the room and Millie moved out of the way so Tom could take her place. Hermione's hand felt limp and cold in his own as he picked it up.

"T-Tom?" Hermione asked. Her eyes were barely open.

"It's me," Tom replied. He felt like he was doing a good job of keeping his anger buried, but apparently, Hermione saw through him because she flinched when she opened her eyes all the way. "Why didn't you take Millie and Pansy with you? Why even talk to Potter at all?"

"Harry's… he's like a brother to me, Tom. The only family I've had in the wizarding world. We grew up together. I didn't… he never would have…"

"But he did. And wasn't Weasley also your brother?" Tom spat.

"No," Hermione tried shaking her head but winced and closed her eyes instead. "Ron was my ex. I… I grieve for his loss."

"Even though his death saved me?" Tom asked. He hated the vulnerability in his voice. Didn't she know how he felt about her? He would burn the fucking world down for her and here she was subjecting herself to the likes of Potter.

"Especially because he saved you," Hermione whispered. She gripped his hand tighter, but Tom was too angry to be here with her.

"Tom!" Hermione cried as he stood up and stormed out of the room.

"Protect her. Care for her. Your lives depend on it," Tom hissed to Millie and Pansy, who were standing at the door to the bedroom.

He was too angry for reason, which he knew meant he needed to find Theo or Draco. Because he couldn't go after Potter. Not after all of his carefully laid plans. And he wouldn't fuck up his bid to rule the world just because Hermione had gotten herself almost killed. No, he needed backup if he was going to step up this little war between him and Potter.

The moment he was outside of Hermione's wards, Tom Apparated to Nott Park. He stormed through the front door, the door immediately to the right of the entry hall was a sitting room that Theo professed to hate, Tom decided he hated it too. He burst through the doors and sent a blasting curse at the ugly paisley sofa and another at a curio cabinet in the corner. The noise of the furniture exploding around him would surely rouse Theo.

"There was a Ming in there," Theo commented from the doorway who sent an Incendio at the fireplace. He sounded tired and resigned. Tom sent a third blasting curse at a divan that was practically begging for it. The light from the fireplace at least helped him see some of the destruction he was causing.

"Care to tell me what this is all about?" Theo asked.

"Not particularly," Tom growled. He gazed over the damage he'd wrought. Bits of wood and fabric covered the floor. Glass and porcelain from the curio cabinet crunched underfoot as Tom took a slow turn around the room.

"Well, this was only the second best sitting room. It needed redecorating anyway. Maybe you could take care of Aunt Mildred above the fireplace there? She's dreadfully opinionated for a portrait."

Tom glared at Theo and sent a slicing hex followed by a Silencio at the portrait. Aunt Mildred got in a second of a scream before she was silenced for good. Tom didn't even bother to look at her as she ran from her frame.

"Thanks." Theo smirked at him.

Tom turned around and took a deep breath. He still felt like killing Potter.

"I brought the Firewhisky," Draco announced. Tom whirled around to find Draco standing just behind Theo holding two full bottles of liquor.

"Well, let us proceed to the best sitting room then," Theo said. Tom could detect a note of sarcasm in his voice, but he didn't care that Theo was mocking him. Or that Draco almost laughed about it. These were his friends, and while the concept was rather new to Tom, he found he liked the camaraderie they offered. They were different from Hermione, but seemingly almost as important in his life. He shuddered to imagine what he would have done if he didn't have them to turn to. Probably gone to murder Potter and been locked in Azkaban for his efforts. Not a very Slytherin approach, but even Tom was hotheaded enough to do some truly stupid things sometimes.

"Well?" Theo prompted once they were settled in his study.

"Hermione was attacked," Tom said. His voice lacking any emotion.

Draco hissed a breath in through his teeth. Theo nodded as if he knew. "Pansy owled me. It arrived about five minutes before you showed up."

"Who?" Draco asked.

"Fucking Potter," Tom swore. "The worst part is that she went to talk to him."

"Mate," Theo said, "she chose you."

"He will never quit," Tom replied quietly.

"Then kill him," Theo said breezily. Tom opened his mouth to say that he couldn't, but then he realized: Hermione had absolved him of the Unbreakable Vow that he'd made to not make another Horcrux and to not murder anyone. He was quite at liberty to kill whoever he wanted.

"I intend to," Tom replied grimly.

"Well, if murder is on the agenda, we can't plot on an empty stomach," Draco announced. He called for a house elf and ordered dinner for the three of them.

"How to murder Potter without causing a war?" Theo mused.

"Potter already thinks he's at war," Tom said. "We just need him to do the escalation."

"Without harming others," Draco reminded him. Tom nodded his agreement, he didn't want others to come to harm over this. Not only would it be terrible for the economy and society as a whole, war with casualties always meant there would be blame. And Tom wasn't willing to have any of that blame placed at his door.

"Unless we put some spin on it," Theo said.

"What are you thinking?" Tom asked. The house elf reappeared announcing dinner and the three of them retired to Theo's dining room.

"Potter had Voldemort, er you, living in his head, did you know that?" Theo asked.

"I'm sorry, what?" Tom turned to Draco to see if Draco had any idea what absurd nonsense Theo was talking about, but Draco looked just as bewildered as Tom felt.

Theo sighed. "Not many know about this, and by rights, I probably shouldn't know about it either, but I do. Voldemort," Tom appreciated that Theo chose to speak about Voldemort as if he were someone different than Tom, "made Horcruxes, right? But if you make too many Horcruxes your soul becomes unstable. Usually, whenever you make a Horcrux you split your soul in half. So if you make five Horcruxes and are attempting to make a sixth, you only have one thirty-second of your soul left to split. That makes it highly unstable."

Tom had known that Horcruxes were a bad idea from the way Hermione spoke about them, but the way Theo was discussing them made him cringe. He'd made three Horcruxes. With the final Horcrux, he'd at least attempted to put the majority of his soul into the Horcrux, leaving only a small portion behind to die, but if what Theo is saying is true, that meant he only had an eighth of his soul left at that point. Thank Merlin, he and Hermione had done the soul-bond ritual.

"What's your point?" Tom asked. "How does this equate to Voldemort living in Potter's head?"

"It's not known for sure what Voldemort planned to do the night he went to the Potter's attempting to kill baby Potter," Theo said. "He had five Horcruxes at that point. There was that prophecy, and I think that Voldemort would have found it poetic to make a Horcrux when fulfilling the prophecy."

"But Potter survived?" Draco asked.

"Right, so here's the theory. Voldemort's soul split when he killed Lily Potter, and when he attempted to kill Harry Potter, Lily's magic saved him, but because Voldemort's soul had split, the split piece of soul needed a receptacle. And since one wasn't prepared, it went into the only receptacle available: Potter."

"Potter was a Horcrux?" Draco asked.

Theo nodded. "And when Voldemort came back in fourth year, he was able to open a connection to Potter's mind."

"How do you know all of this?" Tom asked. He didn't want to be suspicious of Theo. Theo had been good to him over the last few months, but the instinct to be wary was a strong one.

"I swiped Potter's file from Shacklebolt's office."

"Well done, Theo," Tom praised him as he smiled. "Well, you must tell me everything then."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not even half-done," Theo said. "Accio Potter File!"

A rustling sound was heard from deeper in the house, and then a thick file folder flew into the dining room and landed in Theo's outstretched hand.

"I think we can use the mental instability that the Ministry has accused Potter of in the past, combined with the fact that Voldemort used to have access to his brain to our advantage."

"A press offensive." Tom nodded approvingly.

"Exactly." Theo smirked.

"I'll owl Skeeter," Draco said.

Tom felt better than he had all day. He couldn't go out and kill Potter, but it wouldn't take too long to push Potter into showing his cards. The sooner Potter was dead or in Azkaban, the better. Then, once Potter was taken care of, Tom could use the information in Potter's file to oust Shacklebolt for covering it all up.