DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!!
Memoirs
Chapter 18
"How is she?"
"Fine. Tired and confused but she seems fine." Harry answered, sitting down in his seat at the kitchen table. "She's gone upstairs to sleep." Dumbledore looked troubled at this. "Albus? What's wrong?"
"I know Tom Riddle. When he loves he is much more dangerous than when he hates."
"Wait - you think Voldemort is in love with Hermione?" Remus asked.
"I'm quite certain of it. I've read about the bonding ritual he took with Hermione in their wedding. It marks them as equal and also allows for mental communication, and even the possibility - if both parties are powerful enough - to locate the other half. He won't rest until she's with him again."
"You think he'll be able to find her?" Molly asked from her place at the fireplace, stirring the soup.
"I'm quite sure. He may know of this connection but we must all hope that he doesn't know how to use it. I feel quite unnerved by the fact that he may already know how to talk to her mentally."
"You think he'll try to speak to her?"
"Most definitely. He may try to turn her against us, get a location out of her or many other things that make me shudder just to think of them."
"Albus, I need to know if she'll be okay." Harry said, getting increasingly nervous about what Hermione will definitely be put through over the next few days, or even weeks.
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Hermione's room was a deep blue, calming her somewhat, but also gave it a cold feeling. The bed was a double with plain same-coloured sheets and pillows. A full mirror was next to the wardrobe and a door to the side of the bed lead to a small bathroom. The scratchy carpet irritated the soles of her feet and she walked over to the bed. She lay on the sheets which began to irritate her skin as well but sleep overcame her too soon to notice.
She was transported to a field. The grass was green and soft, the occasional oak tree marred the view to the horizon but the view was still beautiful. Sunlight poured down and made her look like an angel in a long billowy white robe.
"Hermione." Called a soft male voice. It sounded like Tom, but at the same time it didn't. It was a lot softer than his usual voice but as she turned around, it was indeed her husband.
"What do you want, Tom? I won't go back with you, or tell you where I am." She snapped forcefully.
"Oh, don't worry, meus infirmitas, I am not here to take you. I can if you want," he said cheekily, "but I want to tell you that I will find you. No matter where that stupid Order hides you, I will find you."
"How? There is no way you can find me. I don't know where I am with the Order."
"Tracking spells, meus infirmitas, tracking spells. Surely a witch of your intelligence would have figured that out." He teased coldly.
"What do you keep calling me? Meus infirmitas? What is that?" she snapped.
"Not telling, Hermione." He teased again. "Give me a week, at the most, and you will be in my arms again."
"Not if I can do anything about it." she bit back.
"Ooh, fighting talk? Hermione, you know I'll find you. Just tell me in which direction you flew and we can be together again."
"Yeah, because I can't wait until I'm with you again." She said coldly and sarcastically. "You let your men tie me up, treat me horribly, curse me, hurt me...do you know what that feels like?"
"They hurt you? How? Who? When?"
"Don't pretend like you care!" she screamed, clenching her hands into fists. "I know you don't!"
"Pet, you're my wife, of course I care who's hurting you." he soothed but it only made her angrier.
"Just get out my dream!"
"Not until I have you back!" he roared back. "I love you, Hermione!"
"I don't love you!" she screamed and he fell silent, hurt blatant in his eyes. "I will never love you!"
"And yet you are carrying my child?" he sneered, sending her into a shocked trans.
She awoke and wept. It was true. She was pregnant. She skipped a period and been sick every morning. She could smell and hear more acutely and her breasts ached constantly. But all she could think about was; how does he know?
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Tom awoke and smirked to himself. Although Hermione had claimed that she didn't love him, and never would, he felt like something had been accomplished with the knowledge that she was pregnant. Thinking that Hermione was too Gryffindor to even consider an abortion or anything that would hurt the baby.
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Hermione lay in the itchy and scratchy bed for hours before someone knocked on her door. "Come in." she said quietly, quickly hiding all evidence that she had been crying. The door opened and Harry's head came into view. "Hi, Harry."
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Hermione...can I come in?"
"Of course." She said, sitting up in bed. Harry fully came into the room, closing the door behind him and walking to the bed. Hermione then saw his attire - merely a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms that hung low on his hips and revealed a strong triangular pelvis, a firm 6 pack and pecks - and she felt a strange thrum of desire, need and want run through her that she had never felt so strongly before in her life. He sat down on the edge of it whilst Hermione propped up a pillow to let herself sit comfortably against the wall.
"Hermione...I know you won't want to talk about it but...are you sure He didn't hurt you? Or rape you? Or seduce you and you gave in? I mean; we'll understand if he did. It's fine." not expecting a real answer, he was surprised when she burst into tears and hugged him tightly. "Hermione, what's wrong? You're scaring me, sweetheart. What's wrong?"
"Harry...He did." She said quietly.
"What?"
"He did seduce me."
"And did you two...?"
She just nodded. "I'm sorry." she repeated 100 times, Harry telling her that it was okay, and that they'd understand. "Harry, help me forget. Let me forget Him, and what He did." She begged, looking him in the eye.
"How?" he whispered back. They leant in together and their lips met, and they were lost in passion.
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Tom shot up in bed.
"Got you."
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A/N: any guesses as to what 'meus infirmitas' means?