When Harry and Ron had given up on their mission to locate horcruxes, the Order had argued for a long time about what to do with them. Finally, they agreed that the safest place for he and Ron to be was back at Hogwarts, since Dumbledore had agreed to stay on as Headmaster. Coming back to Hogwarts felt hollow and different, especially without Hermione there.

Harry stalked through the halls of Hogwarts until he made it to the library. Pushing the doors opened, he noticed it was pretty empty currently, as exams were still months away. He had found himself spending more and more time in the library, thinking of his old friend Hermione, ever since he had returned to Hogwarts that autumn. Not only did it remind him of his friend, but it also was the one place he could get some reprieve.

Luckily for Harry, the library was the one place the Ron still wouldn't enter unless he was forced too. Ron had been exceptionally unbearable since Hermione had left. He had no tact and he had been spending a lot of time with Lavender. He also couldn't keep his mouth shut about Hermione and every time the redhead would open his mouth about her, Harry would cringe. What he hated even more was that he couldn't seem to stand up for her, even though he doubted what Ron said was true.

Finding his way to the old desk that Hermione would use, the one by the window, he opened the letter that he had reread at least a hundred times since Nott had given it too him a month ago. At first Harry was apprehensive, but he knew it was from Hermione when the wax seal required his magic to open. He traced the neat cursive of her signature. He almost had the letter memorised.

"Dear Harry,

Please just read this all the way through before you make any judgements. Also, I am trusting you not to show this with anyone else. Not Ron, not Ginny, no one. Could you please do that for me? We had been friends for six years, you owe me this courtesy.

Are we still friends, I wonder? I think about you every day and I hope that at some point in the future, you will see that I have never wavered in my friendship to you. Harry, please believe me that I didn't ever mean to hurt you or betray you. I don't even think that I have, not really.

You have to understand, for me, I was in the Diary for nearly a year. A whole year Harry! I thought that I was never coming back, I was just trying to make things better for the future. Trying to show Tom Riddle 'that which he knew not' - love. And I thought I had changed him! He didn't make any horcruxes when I was there, so I was positive I was making changes for the better. I even envisioned a world where you grew up with your parents. Please, do you forgive me? I wasn't aiding the enemy, I was just trying to make him better. I promise.

You probably know that I have left Order Headquarters by now. I wanted to tell you the real reason, as I am sure they have come up with some propaganda to further turn you against me. I wanted to tell that the only reason I left was because Dumbledore wasn't going to let me return to Hogwarts or further my education. When Snape approached me, offering me freedom and a chance to finish my studies, I jumped at the chance. Snape took me to a place where I am safe. Please don't ask you to tell you where I am, just know that no one will find me here. I can't chance going back.

Please write to me - I would love to know that I still have your friendship. You can give a return letter to Theo and he will get it to me. Don't even ask him where I am though - he has no idea where I am located either.

Love,

Your Friend,

Hermione"

Harry sighed as he folded the letter back up. He wasn't sure what he should do. He so desperately wanted to write Hermione back, but part of him worried that it could be a trap. He knew that Hermione had sent the letter though and in his heart, he knew that she wouldn't do something to deliberately trap him.

The letter made more sense to him than the story that Dumbledore had told him about Hermione running away. He couldn't see her leaving Order Headquarters without good reason. And he was beginning to understand her point of view. Hermione had always been a champion of the downtrodden. It would make sense that she would try to fix Tom Riddle, too.

Stealing his resolve, Harry got out a fresh piece of parchment and quill. He would write her back.

Hermione was sitting in the library on the third floor, with a roaring fire in the hearth, reading a large book about ancient runes. Thor was resting his large head in her lap, the flames of the fire reflecting in his eyes. The large wolf had grown exceptionally attached to Hermione, enjoying the nightly steak meals she would bring him, and he found that he loved when she would pet his belly. It was a complete one-eighty to when she'd first been given her new familiar. Although sometimes being so close to the wolf felt disrespectful to Crookshanks, she enjoyed the protection that he gave her.

Hermione let out a sigh of frustration. Her teacher, who was sitting across the room, sipping a cup of tea, looked up. "Too difficult for you?" Ted questioned, his eyes narrowed in surprise.

Hermione bit her lip in concentration. "Not too difficult, just...I have never seen syntax like this and there are certain runes that I have never come across before. I can tell though that it comes from the Norse who settled in the North of Ireland. I think perhaps the key to translating the last of this text would be going to examine the Creeslough stone..." she trailed off.

"You think that it requires a trip of that magnitude?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Although he did not share the chummy relationship with Hermione that he had in the Diary, Ted Nott knew that the mudblood was quite magically advanced. She wouldn't make up something frivolous.

"I'm afraid so," Hermione answered with a frown. "I wish there was a way around it, but I've been looking at this for days and I haven't made any headway."

"I could speak with the Dark Lord about this," Ted stated quietly, setting down his cup in its saucer. He enjoyed a closer relationship with the mercurial man than anyone else, on account of knowing him the longest.

"No," Hermione said quickly, shaking her head. "I will talk to him - this is my assignment." Thor, sensing his mistress wanted to get up, stood and began stalking to the door. Hermione stood, resting a hand on her now four month pregnant belly. Since her frame was previously slender, her baby bump was now noticeable. "I will ask him at dinner."

Ted pursed his lips together, wondering for the millionth time how Hermione pieced herself into the Dark Lord's life, nodded in agreement. "If that's what you wish," he told her, wondering if it was a fool's errand. "We are done for the day."

With Ted's dismissal, Hermione left to get ready for dinner. Since it was not a formal occasion, she would just wear a simple pink dress that was looser than the tight formal dresses she normally wore, but much shorter than what she normally wore. Witches sometimes seemed as if they were still in the eighteenth century when it came to hem length. She was still able to wear heels without them being too uncomfortable, so she slipped on a pair of nude heels.

Walking down the stairs with Thor on her heels, she found that the dinner hall was relatively empty for the evening. She sat next to Draco, who was seated on the left hand side of Voldemort. Snape was sitting across from her, and Dolohov, unusually, was seated next to Voldemort. Hermione's eyes narrowed at the handsome but dangerous Russian. Petting Thor, who was sitting under the table at her feet, she continued to look around the table. Bellatrix was seated next to her and Nott across the table.

Setting her spoon down into her lobster bisque, Hermione decided to enter into the polite conversation. Waiting for a lull, she seized her chance, knowing that it was better to get it over with as soon as possible. "Voldemort. I need to go to Ireland," she said simply, not wanting to ask for his permission.

Everyone quieted down and looked at their Lord to see what he would do. Hermione had become keenly aware that everyone found their relationship extremely unusual, and they didn't quite know what to make of her. He had kept his promise that none of the Death Eaters would harm her, but she wondered how much that had to do with Bellatrix.

"For what purpose?" Voldemort asked. He was completely surprised by the request, but didn't let it show on his face.

"I am working on translating the passage you requested, and I am almost done with the translation, meaning that I could move onto the Arithmancy of the spell. However, I am unsure of the syntax and certain runes. I was thinking that I was likely to make a breakthrough if I examined the Creeslough stone," she explained as quickly as possible. Hermione met his eyes with a silent challenge.

Though she didn't want to admit it, since their encounter in his office, Hermione's body wouldn't give her any reprieve. Every day since then her mind hadn't been haunted with dreams with anyone but him. Some days she could get by without...satisfying herself, but other days she had to give in. It was all the more complicated by her conflicting interactions with the Dark Lord and the Tom Riddle she'd known in the Diary.

"That seems logical," Voldemort stated. His eyes swept over to Ted Nott. "I assume your...professor will be going with you?"

"I was planning on going alone," Hermione stated firmly, coolly. "I would be gone no longer than a week."

"Absolutely not," Voldemort replied with a little more emotion than anyone was expecting. "I will not allow you to go alone when the Order and the rest of the wizarding world is looking for Hermione Granger. You will need some kind of protection. Nott will go with you," he commanded, waving his hand to dismiss her disagreement.

"My lord, if I may," began Ted, "I feel that I am much too busy with my other task that you have given me. Also, I have never been a skilled dueler," he said with no embarrassment over the assessment of his skills. Ted had always been more book smart than ready to come in, wands blazing.

Voldemort nodded, before looking to Snape. "Severus, then, perhaps you could accompany your ward?" he asked, wondering if anyone heard the hopeful tone in his voice.

Hermione sucked in her breath. That was the first time that her and Severus's relationship had really been brung up in front of so many people, and she was unsure if Severus would appreciate everyone knowing about his fatherly feelings for her. She spoke up quickly. "The Order already knows that I left with Snape - he is probably the most suspicious person for me to be seen with! And I am a perfectly skilled dueler in my own rights. I took on more than one death eater when I was fifteen!" she argued petulantly.

"And I was the one to knock you down, little kitten," Dolohov stated with a broad smile across his perfect, white teeth. "My Lord, may I offer my assistance to the girl? I can't promise to bring her back untouched, but I can promise to bring her back unharmed." Dolohov leered at her from across the table.

Hermione could feel the tension in the room rise, as the Dark Lord look at his follower with disdain. The thought of Dolohov's hands on his Hermione made him almost as disgusted as the idea of Albert Dolohov being with her in the Diary.

Unintentionally, Draco saved face for the Dark Lord. "Ha! As if that wouldn't be suspicious - Granger with a known Death Eater. Everyone would think you'd kidnapped her. I will accompany Hermione. I had the second highest scores in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I have mastered many of the spells Aunt Bella has taught me," he said, smoothly. "Plus, it's much more believable for Hermione and I to be seen together. No one has seen either of us since the term began," Draco finished with a huff, hands across his chest.

"And just how would that be more believable Malfoy?" Hermione asked, still frustrated with the idea of being chaperoned.

"Obviously Granger, they would think that we had professed our undying love for each other and eloped." Malfoy rolled his grey eyes at her.

"And just who would believe that?" Hermione shot back, affronted. She couldn't imagine anyone finding that scenario particularly believable.

"Certainly, Granger, you have heard the whispers in the halls of Hogwarts that I am shagging you and that our dislike for each other is merely an act to throw people off the scent," Draco said, a smirk growing on his face when he saw the way that she reacted to the suggestion.

Hermione blushed all the way to the tips of her toes. She most certainly had not heard that rumor, and after all, she was practically a virgin! She had definitely been a virgin when she walked the halls of Hogwarts.

The two teenagers were unaware that Voldemort had been watching the whole exchange in silence. He approved of Draco's line of reasoning and was also not at all concerned about the possibility of a relationship springing up between the two bickering teens, not like he was with Dolohov. Not that it should really be a concern to him at all. "You two will leave tomorrow morning. I will create a portkey home, but you will have to get there like muggles to avoid suspicion," he said, leaving no room for further discussion.

Hermione and Draco looked up and nodded. Hermione was still annoyed that she needed a chaperone, but it could be worse. It could be Dolohov. "Come on Thor," Hermione stood and left the dining room, taking the wolf with her. She had a journey to prepare for.

Voldemort was in his office later that evening, looking into the fire, allowing his mind to wander. It was an activity that he rarely indulged in. Less rare than the glass of aged firewhiskey in his hand.

He didn't even stir when Bellatrix came into the room, looking like the cat that caught the canary. She poured herself a glass of firewhiskey, talking a large, unladylike drink from the tumbler. "My Lord, are you sure it's wise sending Draco with Hermione...alone...to a remote location...for an indefinite amount of time?" He didn't like the seductive sound in her voice that was suddenly making the trip seem scandalous.

"Yes, I trust that Hermione and Draco both have improved steadily under your tutelage. Plus I think that Hermione will be able to keep Draco's more impulsive tendencies in tow," he said, hoping that the woman would take his compliment. Voldemort paused. "And I know that the girl has told Draco about the child. I have no doubts that the boy will protect my child," he added. Although he had not cared to father a child before Hermione had fallen into his lap, he couldn't deny that he was concerned for the safety of his son. Voldemort was quiet then, thinking about the way that Hermione's body had begun to swell with his child. It had created all sorts of feelings that he hadn't even begun to process yet.

He couldn't stop himself from staring at the small swell that was obvious to him every time that she came into a room. He was sure most of his followers still wouldn't notice, but it was getting to the point where people would begin to ask questions. He wondered how they would take the news that a mudblood carried his heir. He would just have to hope that she'd made a suitable enough impression on all of them by the time he revealed the truth.

He remembered Bellatrix's questions. "Is there any reason for me to believe it unwise?" he asked, his head slightly turned to the side.

Bellatrix gave a small smirk. "My Lord, you might remember that Rodolphus and I were once bickering teenagers that couldn't stand the sight of each other...until we were sent on a lone assignment together," she said, biting her lower lip to hold back a full blown grin.

For some inexplicable reason, Voldemort felt his throat sink to his stomach. He certainly remembered that now. He couldn't...Hermione wouldn't dare to...History couldn't possibly repeat itself? Was it possible that bickering, tentative friends Hermione and Draco could come back as more than that? Shaking his head in distaste, he worried far too much that it could be so.

"Bellatrix," Voldemort said with an edge to his voice, as if daring her to tease him about it. "Inform young Draco that there has been a...change of plans. Someone else will accompany to Ireland."

The dark-haired witch gave him a knowing smirk in return. "Of course, my Lord."