Ron Weasley sat in the Headmaster's office completely shocked.
He had expected to be in a spot of trouble when he freely admitted to Dumbledore about leaving the school grounds, but he'd hoped that it would outweigh the information that they had. He explained about the protean charm on the coins and following Harry to St. Mungo's. And he'd explained the little scene he'd found at the Wizarding hospital.
It had thrown Dumbledore into a rage.
"How could it have happened so soon? We are not nearly prepared!" he groused, slamming his fists on his desk.
Ron crossed his arms over his chest, blowing the fringe out of his eyes. "I can't believe that Harry would leave with that bitch and her spawn," he answered. "Who knew that Hermione was betraying us with Malfoy all along. She probably would have turned even if you hadn't tested her with the Diary."
Dumbledore had given him a hard look, his blue eyes glittering like snow melt. "She did not have Draco Malfoy's baby," he explained solemnly. "I'm not sure how it happened, but she could have only become pregnant while she was under the Order's care. When she was in the Diary. Which means..."
Ron had felt physically ill when he realized that Dumbledore was suggesting that Hermione's child was fathered by none other than the Dark Lord himself. Then he kicked himself even more for not killing the little bastard when he had the chance.
Dumbledore looked at Ron, sensing that he needed something to occupy his mind. "Go and tell Minerva to call the Order. I will take him down once and for all - Voldemort, Granger and her child!" he ordered, before rubbing his fingers over the bridge of his nose.
Ron couldn't have come up with a better plan, and scurried down the spiral staircase to McGonagall's quarters.
Finally, Hermione Granger would get what was coming to her.
After Hermione had awoken from her self induced coma, Voldemort had barely left her alone.
Katie Bell - the pretty blonde witch from St. Mungo's - had done an examination of both her and Evan and found them to be in good health, but suggested a day of rest to regain their strength. He had allowed Draco and Severus each five minutes, but not Harry. He felt that the shock of their reunion would be too much for her. The last she knew about it, Harry was still safely tucked away at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore's constant surveillance.
Still, she did not seem to mind his company.
It was the most time Hermione and Voldemort had spent together since her time in the diary. He had even told her she was right about feeling remorse in order to repair his soul. While she smirked at his admission, she didn't rub it in. Her graciousness in winning made him grant her request to view his memories of the event. He kept a very tight rein on what she saw, but she later realized that it was his way of telling her he loved her. She knew he meant it, but it would be few and far between when he would admit it aloud.
She was in awe of his new appearance. He was her Tom again, only older, more handsome. He had completely grown into his features. He was more broad shouldered than she remembered, his dark brown hair perfectly coiffed, with a side part that didn't appear boyish at all. His eyes were once again dark pools that she remembered so well, filled with more liveliness and emotion than she had seen since his "interview" with Durmstrang.
He looked to be in his late twenties, and he later confirmed that he was 27, the last time he had intentionally created a horcrux. Hermione herself was fascinated by that theory, and wanted to do more research on it, someday once everything shook out.
He discussed with her the success of the potion and why she and Evan had been so affected. She understood then, the strange power that the old crone had felt in her child. It had been the tiny piece of Tom's soul that was originally housed in the Diary, which had latched on to the new life that was created within it. Or perhaps, Hermione had mused, the Diary's magic had helped to create the child in order to free itself from the book. She kept that thought to herself though.
Voldemort promised that he wouldn't underestimate the old magic that was created by love anymore, telling her that he would do anything to keep Evan safe from harm. It was sweet to see him fully accepting the role of Evan's father, and her heart melted a bit every time she saw him with the baby.
He was being so charming and intelligent and sweet to her, everything that she wanted from him, that she couldn't help but feel her heart swell with love for him. He seemed more open with her, the shock of nearly losing her forever making him realize just how important she truly was to him. He was so much like the Tom from the diary that she had a difficult time remembering to call him Voldemort. For once, he didn't seem to mind, though.
When it came time for Hermione to go sleep, he slipped under the covers beside her, having stripped down to his undergarments. He placed her head on his chest, while he sat up with the lights dimmed, reading a book. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she couldn't help the content sighs that she let out before falling asleep, a smile on her face.
Soon though, the morning came and it was time for Hermione to meet with Harry. As soon as Voldemort told her that her oldest friend was in the Lestrange House with her, it was practically all that she could talk about. She was eager to meet with her old friend and talk one on one, but Voldemort wouldn't allow it, insisting on sitting in on the meeting with the pair in the library.
Harry was shocked to see how well Hermione looked when she entered the room. She was smiling radiantly, wearing a white linen dress, despite the colder spring weather. Voldemort entered soon after, carrying baby Evan, looking...totally normal, like a regular dad. Honestly, it almost put him on edge to see the man of his nightmares reduced to such a good looking wizard. He continually had to remind himself that he was sitting with the most dangerous man alive.
Seeing the three of them together was unnerving. It was profoundly opposite of what Harry had expected their relationship to be like. He let those thoughts leave him, though, feeling Hermione's body slam into his in an embrace. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight bear hug.
"Oh Harry, I am so glad to see you again," Hermione whispered into his ear, and when she pulled away he could see tears sparkling in her eyes.
They parted, sitting down around the low table for tea. "I am so glad to see you too, Hermione. I was really worried about you," he answered. His eyes settled on the green locket, that had once belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself, resting on her chest. Although it was no longer a horcrux, it still was a shock to him.
It was only after he'd returned from St. Mungo's with Malfoy and Hermione that he realized he'd had a bit of Voldemort's soul latched onto him as well. His scar had hurt terribly the day he went to St. Mungo's, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Now when he tried to probe the connection, he felt nothing. Voldemort postulated that it was due to the fact that Harry wasn't really a horcrux - constantly fighting the part of him that was connected to the Dark Wizard - that he hadn't been more affected.
Once Hermione was settled on the couch, Voldemort handed her the baby. It was strange seeing Hermione acting so natural with a child in her arms, but when he thought about it, Hermione did seem like she would be a brilliant mum, especially after having taken such good care of him the past few years. "I am of course glad to see little Evan is doing alright as well. Malfoy was quick to tell me his full name," Harry told her with a smile. There was no way that he could hate the baby, especially not when he was half Hermione.
"Yes, well Voldemort wanted his first name to be Salazar," Hermione told him smirking and rolling her eyes. "I had to put my foot down. But still, it is a part of his heritage." Hermione said, smiling down at the baby.
Evan was uncommonly well behaved, but Harry supposed that he would expect nothing less from a child from perhaps the two most intelligent people he knew. In a way, Harry couldn't think of a better man for Hermione. That thought would have horrified him a week ago, but sitting in front of their family, it seemed oddly...normal.
"Are you happy here, Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned for his friend, his sister, not caring that Voldemort bristled at the question.
"I never thought I would say it, but yes. I am being challenged intellectually. I am learning so much. Everyone has been nice to me," she said, almost as if she couldn't believe it herself. She looked at Voldemort under hooded eyelids. "And I do love him."
"And what about you, Voldemort, doesn't it bother you that Hermione is a muggleborn? The very kind of person you are trying to destroy?" Harry questioned, his voice sounding more than a bit accusatory.
Voldemort was pensive for a moment. "I told you before, Potter, in the Chamber of Secrets. Killing muggleborns is no longer my goal. I am merely interested in being the greatest wizard alive, a task I believe I have accomplished," he said after a moment. It was strange hearing his voice, silky and dark, deeper than it had been when he was in his other body. "And in any case, my child is...more muggle than wizard, but I am sure that he will dominate all aspects of his life."
Harry was surprised. He was shocked to hear Voldemort use the word muggleborn instead of mudblood, but it was a welcome change. And the fact that he acknowledged that he was in fact only a half-blood was surprising. He'd previously gotten the impression that it was something Tom Riddle had been intensely embarrassed by.
Harry's smile quickly faltered into a grimace when he remembered the events that had brought them all together. "Oh Hermione. I was so worried about you. Especially when Ron showed up...he was acting...he went berserk."
"May I see your memories Harry?" Hermione looked at him inquisitively.
Harry thought for a moment, worried of what the usually extremely level-headed girl would do after seeing Ron threaten to kill her baby. Attempt even. Soon, though, he nodded, knowing that she had a right to see them. Almost instantaneously, he could feel Hermione seamlessly entering his mind.
Soon, she was rewatching his memories - how Draco and he had protected her and her child against the redhead's rage. Then, just as quickly as she'd entered, he could feel her leave him, her face immediately fixed on Evan.
Hermione was shaking. Harry first assumed that she was crying, but he soon realized she was angry. Very angry. "He tried to murder our child. I want him to feel pain!" Hermione hissed in parseltongue to Voldemort, but Harry could still understand.
Harry interrupted, aghast that his friend would want to take such drastic measures. "Hermione, you can't possibly be thinking about killing Ron?" he pressed.
Hermione whipped her head around to stare at her old friend. "There are other kinds of revenge than death. Better kinds," she explained. Her face was eerily calm. "I can't stand by and allow them to get away with how they've treated me all these years, Harry. There are consequences."
She handed Evan to Voldemort, who stared at Hermione in an impressed mixture of lust and eagerness.
"The Order only saw me as a walking encyclopedia, allowing me only to research day and night as if there weren't other things I might like to do. And I wasn't allowed to touch certain things because they might have a dark influence on me!" she ranted. "They trapped me like a prisoner in a place I once loved."
"I know, but-"
She cut him off with a glare. "They caused all of this, Harry, by putting me in the Diary in the first place. Watched me, spied on me. Even intimate moments were not given privacy," she continued. Harry could see the crimson blush on her face. "If anything, they were the darkest influence on me. If they had just trusted that I was loyal, I never would have..." she trailed off.
"If I had known, Hermione, I would have warned you," Harry begged, needing her to know that he'd had no part in the planning to put her into the Diary.
"And Ron was the worst of all! To think that I have ever called him my friend," she said with finality, tears finally rolling down her cheeks in shame.
"But, Hermione -"
"No Harry, don't defend him! I have never truly believed his friendship since first year. I will never forget the hurtful things he said to me. All I was to him was homework help." She was pacing angrily back and forth. The Dark Lord looked on, with a pleased smile on his face, preening with how quickly she'd realized where her rightful place was.
"But not here. Draco and Theo have been wonderful friends, they treat me like an equal. And I am able to study whatever I like, I am actually intellectually challenged here. No information is off limits," she described, nibbling on her lower lip. She sat back down, putting her face in her hands. "Perhaps I should thank the Order. For showing me what I really want."
She gave Voldemort an adoring look, one that made Harry feel like some sort of voyeur to their more private moments.
The room was quiet for a several beats, before Voldemort spoke. "And what are your plans Potter? Who do your loyalties lie with?" he queried, looking at Harry with his dark eyes glittering dangerously. "Should I have Hermione obliviate you so that you can go back to fight for the light?"
"No, I can't tolerate that Ron tried to kill a baby. Hermione is the only real family that I've got," he said, even though he knew it was a contradiction. After all, Voldemort had tried to kill him as a baby. Harry sighed considering his next words. "Plus, Dumbledore has been lying to me all year, trying to manipulate me into thinking Hermione had betrayed me further by becoming pregnant with Malfoy's child. Unfortunately for him, I can do arithmetic." At least with Voldemort he knew what he was getting.
Hermione looked up at him. "So...you'll help us? You'll fight with us? But what about the prophecy?" she questioned, as though she couldn't even believe what she was hearing.
"Well, I am pretty sure that Voldemort is now fully aware of the power he knew not of," Harry answered, smiling. Hermione blushed, thinking back to Voldemort whispering to her prone form that he loved her. "And, besides, prophecies can change. Hell, I am sure Dumbledore messed up with something by allowing you to stay so long in the past, even if it was only a memory. I am tired of having my life defined by prophecies. It is time for me to make my own destiny."
"Oh, Harry! You are such a good friend!" she cooed, sounding pleased. Hermione stood up and ran over to where her friend was sitting, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug, as though her whole life depended on it.
"I do have a condition though. I can't use the Killing Curse...and I don't think that either of you should," Harry said, looking at the new couple cautiously. He knew that a request like this was anathema to Voldemort.
He watched Voldemort's eyes narrow at him. "And why exactly, would I not use all the tools at my disposal?" he deadpanned.
"Well, you just restored your soul to its original state. Don't damage it again. I don't want you to make Hermione a widow," Harry said, carefully choosing his next words. "And, besides, like Hermione said, there are other ways to hurt someone. There are other ways to...destroy someone besides just using the Killing Curse"
"Harry, what are you thinking?" Hermione asked, supremely curious.
"Let's just say I have a plan." Harry responded. "Voldemort and I will have to cooperate in order to bring down Dumbledore. It's time for the Wizarding World to see just who Dumbledore really is."
"That will be interesting, and shocking to see, I am sure," Hermione said, smiling at the extremely stoic Voldemort. It would certainly be a hard sell to get the Dark wizard to agree to it, but Hermione could be convincing. She knew that he would talk to her about it later. "As long as everyone knows I get Ronald. I will make him pay for what he tried to do to my son," Hermione added.
Smiling down at her as though he wanted to eat her up, Voldemort pressed an eager kiss to Hermione's temple. "Well, Potter, explain to me this little plan that you have," he said, at least open to listening.