Chapter 22: Awakening

Awakening

For the first time in a very long time I woke up to the sound of a beating heart next to my ear. I had my arm wrapped around a very pale torso, with a wedding band on my finger. I lifted my hand and brought it closer to my eyes for inspection. It had a silver sheen to it, but something about its deceptive plainness was alarming. I tried to pull it off my hand only to be met with resistance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my Hermione," he said, his breath hot on my head, "seriously woman we only got married yesterday and you already want to take the wedding band off?"

At his words the memories of the last day came to my mind, accompanied by a sense of utter bliss. I pursed my lips and made a move to stand, throwing the sheets of my body; only to blush and cover myself in an instant. I sat on the bed mortified to death, embarrassed and humiliated.

"Now, now, dear, there is no need to be so coy, we are married, don't be such a prude," he murmured softly against my bare back and started placing kisses on my shoulder blades.

"You drugged me!On our wedding day, and who knows by which dark art you brought my friends back from the dead for a day," I seethed, the raw revulsion plain on my trembling voice, "and if I am not mistaken the wedding band won't come off because you performed an unbreakable vow. You didn't trust me to keep my word in good faith."

He continued his ministrations stopping over my spinal cord; his hand came to rest on my naked lower back, sending shivers up my body. The size of his hand made me feel vulnerable on a primal level. Taking his lips off my skin he sighed and enveloped me in his arms, resting a hand over the sheets covering my bulging tummy.

"My dear girl, use that head of yours. Please don't tell me I married you only to have you become a dimwit chit. I didn't drug you, as you so eloquently put it. I would never restore to some disgusting muggle practice. You offend me by the very suggestion," he said, intoning every word as if speaking to a four year old.

I scoffed and raised my eyebrows.

"You are offended by the possibility of restoring to a muggle technique to get me into your bed. Of course you are offended, it's not like you have restored to genocide, and torture, practices which you might not be aware of it, but muggles have perfected. They have done them all without magic but still…" I ranted.

He rested his chin on the hollow of my shoulder and tightened a fraction his hold on my body.

"Dearest," he rasped with barely contained anger, "I am in an extraordinarily good mood this morning and I have no intention to ruin our day, but if you continue flinging accusations of that sort my way I cannot assure you my patience will last. Think, Mrs. Riddle, think! You are aware that the laws of magical entropy do not allow for a person's body let alone their soul to return to the land of the living after a month, and even in the time before this time-frame the cost of getting a person's body to operate is enormous. If I recall correctly the ratio would be 1:1000 for individual, so if your friends had died less than a month ago, considering the amount of guests that were present at our reception my guess would be more than 50 000 wizards and witches would have had to die. The current Wizarding population cannot afford to lose that many healthy individuals; I wouldn't endanger the survival of the Wizarding world just so you could have your friends back for one evening."

He was right, I hated that he was right. It had been a thoughtless accusation to fling his way, but I was not about to let him get the best of me without a fight.

"It's not like you wouldn't kill twice as many wizards and witches to achieve your nefarious ends," I insisted.

He laughed. It was a melodious sound that carried across the room.

"True, darling, it is quite true, but be reasonable love. It would be a waste of energy and resources to spill that much blood for a single evening. Perhaps…"

I interrupted that line of thought, there was no way I was going to be indirectly responsible for the death of more people. Nothing good ever came out of a sentence starting with perhaps in his mouth.

"So if they weren't zombies, then you must have used the Polyjuice Potion, but you have to have the person alive to keep obtaining fresh samples. How did you do it?" I wondered.

"Well if you expanded your horizons a little bit and decided to try mixing all of your acquired knowledge you would be able to do the same with old samples. It isn't that complicated. At least not for people like us," he said laying back down on the bed.

"The potion you gave me is highly illegal; I think there are records of it being used only once or twice in history. Though I don't have the slightest doubt that in the pureblooded families it must've been a common practice, but still as far as I know the main ingredient is found in Latin America, in a tiny mountain in Northern Mexico. The flower takes years to be grown and it must be fertilized with the blood of the intended victim. It takes close to 30 years to grow the flower," I said turning to look at him.

For the first time since I had known him, his hair was a mess, sticking out in all angles. His eyes were closed, long dark lashes framing them. That angular face of his would make the David by Michelangelo bitter in jealousy. I had never seen his torso without clothing before either, he was lean but marked. It was unfair that his skin was the perfect shade of alabaster. He must have done something magical to enhance his beauty. That must be it; no person was naturally that beautiful.

I huffed indignant at it all.

A smile graced his countenance.

"Contrary to your accusations, I haven't done anything to my body. Not to this one at least, the one I developed as Voldemort was more to my liking, it allowed me to use my magic to its full potential. I am a practical man, not a vain one. You would have me be guilty of every sin on the book, wouldn't you? It would make me that much easier to hate. All this," he said stifling a yawn, "is what I inherited from my muggle father. I am glad you like it. If you ever escape me and travel back in time, I must remember to kill my father so you can never meet him. I cannot have my wife admiring another man. Before your thoughts wandered in my direction love, I must applaud your deduction skills. I did grow Rosoideae exultatiónis. I am nothing if not thorough."

"You planned this, decades ago."

"A little foresight is always useful," he said opening his eyes and looking at me. He raised a hand to caress my cheek, "besides you are worth the effort."

I flushed. I hated that he could make me flush at his slightest compliment. I was not a naïve girl to react this way. I made a move to get out of bed when a realization hit me.

"You gave me back my magic. That is the only way I could have performed the Unbreakable Vow," I whispered breathless.

"Finally, it took you long enough to realize that little bit of information. I was starting to wonder if you ever would. I have a little surprise for you. Close your eyes," he commanded.

I bristled at his wording.

"If you think being married will give you the right to push me around and give me orders you are sadly mistaken. I married you, your equal and I refuse to be treated as anything but," I countered.

"It was a poor choice of words," he deadpanned, "I would have you stop this nonsense at once. I do not belief you are my equal, you are my complement. I wouldn't have a woman as vicious as me by my side. You are many things, many good things that I will never be, and I am many things you don't want to be. But we are perfect for one another, and finally you are mine as much as I am yours."

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Never in a thousand years would I have expected words like those to leave his lips. Something wasn't right, he was being too soft. He was hiding something, but what?

"Close your eyes, love" he requested.

His words only served to increase my unease, somewhere something dreadful was happening. I knew it, but I closed my eyes nonetheless. Even with my magic back, it was not as if I could do something without a wand.

"Extend a hand, palm up."

I did as he bid me and heard him grab his wand from the bedside table. With a pop a light box fell on my hand.

I opened my eyes. One of Olivander's wands! It looked so perfect in its box, waiting for the right wizard or witch to come along. I tried opening it, but the box wouldn't budge. I inspected the box closely and realized, it did not bear the Olivander crest, but rather the Dark Mark. I released the box. It landed with a muffled sound on the sheets.

"Thank you, Tom. It is an amazing wand, but I don't want it," I said meeting his eyes. I could feel my eyes getting prickly.

"Don't say that dear, I made this wand myself. It is the perfect wand for you. If the crest on the box disturbs you so, I don't mind changing it to Salazar's 'S'. Either you take this wand or I take your magic. What use is your magic without a wand," he said, his eyes slanting dangerously.

I grabbed the box, before he carried out his threat. Once more I tried to open the box, pressure wouldn't make it budge. Perhaps a lever might. I looked around the room for something to use as a lever on the box. Next to the fire was a fire poker, I stood to grab it; feeling Tom's eyes on me all the while. My lever idea didn't work, I tried pinching my thumb and opening it with blood; only to get the same result.

"Could I have some chalk?" I asked. There was no way a box was going to best me, no way Tom would win this small challenge.

"Anything for you," he said, eyes flashing in delight. He transfigured one of my hair pins from last night into chalk. His long fingers grasped it tightly, and his lips quirked up. In an instant his usual emotional mask was back into place.

As he gave me the piece of chalk our fingers met, and I felt a spark of lightning rush over my body. He was certain I wouldn't be able to open the box. Every inch of his sharp face exuded overbearing confidence.

I started scribbling runes over the box. Combining them with silent spells and wandless magic, I even added some blood to the mix. My nose was starting to get itchy from all the chalk I had smeared all over my face. In a boost of inspiration I grabbed one of Tom's fingers and stabbed it with the forgotten needle. To his credit he didn't even bat an eyelash. A crimson drop of blood appeared on his finger. I combined it to the mix. Still the box remained closed.

I huffed beyond miffed at the situation.

"I don't fancy spending the rest of my day here waiting for you to figure out how to open a stupid box," he said a coat of smugness oozing from each word.

I grabbed the box and ran for the other side of the room.

"It is my present! You cannot open it. It just doesn't work that way," I said a mixture of impatience and desperation on my voice, "perhaps you should have thought of this before sealing the dammed thing so no one can open it. Give me five more minutes I almost have it."

As I finished my rant I noticed he had gone completely still and an open smile was adorning his features. He looked like a tiger ready to pounce on an unsuspecting gazelle. His eyes trailed slowly over my body and I turned beetroot red.

"If you continue talking from that side of the room you might be able to convince me," he said eyes dancing mischievously.

I straightened up to my full height and with all the dignity I could muster turned my back on him and proceeded to sit on the floor. I was going to open this box if it was the last thing I did. Perhaps I needed some dark spell I didn't know. I should check the library, the answer must be there. I stood and grabbed the doorknob, only to find myself flying across the room. I landed on Tom´s lap, much to my chagrin.

Tom grabbed my chin and kissed me possessively.

"I don't fancy letting anyone see you in this state of undress except me. I don't trust any of my new Deatheaters would be able to control themselves. Truth be told neither can I," he murmured huskily.

"Let me open this box and we'll do anything you like," I countered, a devious smile appearing tugging at my lips.

He snatched the box from my grasp and whispered, "Open!" and the treacherous thing did.

Inside was a beautiful white wand. I pulled it from its box and felt the magic inside me rush to meet it. I moved my wrist, adapting to its weight. I casted a Lumos and the tip of the wand brightened. There was something about the wand, something different, familiar, but darkly empowered. It was as if an indomitable force had been smothered to the confines of the delicate wand.

"Do you like it?" Tom asked emotionlessly.

"I love it, but there is something off about it. What is the core of it?" I inquired.

He took the wand from my hand and kissed me. All other thoughts left my head.

An eternity afterwards I found myself wandering the halls with Tom. I was wearing a proper set of robes that complimented my round figure. All day long Tom had been wearing a beautiful smile. It was almost funny to see the Death-eaters we passed along our path, shake in utter horror at this. Good on them that they already knew nothing good ever came out of that smile.

At last we came to stand in front of one of the guest rooms. Tom faced me and grasping both of my arms said, "love, you know there is nothing I wouldn't do for you, right?"

My insides turned to ice at his words. I didn't want to see what was behind that door, not for anything in the whole world. My hands started shaking, hadn't he rationalized all of my months at Malfoy Manor with similar words.

"Tom, no one should bear that amount of responsibility, importance or power over another being. I refuse to wield that responsibility any longer. You don't want me to have power of over you, right?" I felt my voice getting thinner with each word, "you have to stop saying these things to yourself Tom. Own up to your own decisions and mistakes."

His smile faded and he opened the door. I turned my head and made to get away, only to be dragged into the room.

My scream pierced the night.

My dear readers!

You have made me really happy by reading and reviewing. Thank you all for having come this far with me on this crazy adventure. Lately I've been inspired and hopefully this year I'll finish this little story.

Best,

SW