Hermione's back hurt. During the war, she had sustained injuries to her spine that still flared up on cold days or when it rained. But now, Hermione's whole back was seizing, painful spasms rippling through her muscles. As her mind focused into clarity, Hermione realized her body was splayed on sharp, protruding rocks that dug into her flesh.
Hermione opened her eyes and saw nothing. Black. All she could hear was dripping water and the faint crash of waves from far away. Where the hell was she?
"Ah, you're awake," she heard a man's voice say. "My apologies, I didn't mean to tumble into you like that. You took quite a fall."
His voice reverberated around the what she now realized was a cave. She moved her head around furiously, struggling to find the source of the noise.
She could just barely make out a tall figure in the dark. The man whispered Lumos, and his face was illuminated.
The man was incredibly handsome. He had penetrating grey eyes, a straight nose, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. The man had pale complexion and dark wavy hair, which was disheveled but didn't detract at all from his good looks. He was very tall, towering over her prone form. Hermione couldn't help but notice he was shirtless, and her eyes traveled down over his athletic physique.
"Who…who are you?" Hermione mumbled, still slightly delirious.
The man smiled, which sent annoying butterflies to the pit of her stomach. She mentally chastised herself for focusing on something silly as good looks when she was at risk.
"Don't you recognize me, Hermione?" The man asked, smiling at her. "I suppose you may never have seen me like this, but I'm sure you would have heard tell of my looks."
Hermione managed to sit up, groaning as her neck audibly cracked.
"Nope, doesn't ring a bell, she mumbled.
Hermione shoved her hand in her pockets and came up empty.
"Wait," she said, "where's my wand?"
The man smiled, and she realized it was her wand that was lighting the cave.
"Give that back." She demanded.
"I'm afraid I can't," the man said. "Not until I can find my own."
Hermione was about to give him a stern dressing-down about stealing wands, until she realized she was still in her pajama top and panties. She blushed and tried to cover herself.
"I've also had to borrow your dressing gown to transfigure myself some trousers," the man said.
Hermione noticed he was wearing silky black pants, the same material as her satin robe.
"I was in quite a state of undress when I came out of the Veil," the man said with a smirk.
A look of confusion overcame Hermione's glare.
"What do you mean, came out of the Veil?" she said. "No one just comes out of the Veil."
"Well, I'm the first. You should record it in your studies."
"How do you know about my studies?"
"I've been watching you, Hermione."
A chill went down the witch's spine.
"You've been feeling a strange pull to be near the Veil, haven't you?" the man said. "A burning sickness that gets worse the longer you're away."
Hermione listened, barely daring to breathe.
"That was me. Pulling your soul to to mine."
The memories flashed back from earlier that night. Her feverish crawl up the steps on the stone warm hand that grabbed hers from behind the Veil.
"It's not possible," she whispered to herself.
"Oh, but Hermione, it is," the man said. "And you are the only one who could have done it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, you see, you killed me," he explained. "That is, you destroyed a portion of my soul."
Hermione's heart was beating so hard it hurt. It couldn't be…
"Luckily, I had anticipated this. Years ago, I inoculated that particular fragment of my soul with an ancient preservative magic. While it would not be enough to restore my original form, it conserved a piece of my essence. When destroyed, that piece would then attach itself to a host body."
The man stepped closer to Hermione, and seemed to become even more intimidating.
"The horcrux was destroyed, but the piece of my soul was intact. All it had to do was implant itself into the closest living human at the time of destruction."
The man smiled and crouched down.
"And that, my dear, seems to be you."
Hermione closed her eyes. This couldn't be happening. She watched him die. She knew he was dead.
"So that begs the question, darling" Voldemort said, "who are you, and why did you destroy my horcrux?"
—
As Voldemort explained what happened, Hermione mentally reviewed her options. He was much taller than her, so she had little chance of physically overcoming him. Hermione's only other option was disarming him. The 25-year-old was fairly skilled at wandless magic, but she was worried her weakened physical state had depleted her magical strength. Furthermore, the cave could have wards to prevent magic from unauthorized users. She would have to be smart to get out of this alive.
"Answer my question, witch," Voldemort demanded.
"I've got no idea what you're talking about. I've never heard the term horcrux," Hermione said innocently.
"For such an intelligent which, you're a very poor liar. That's something we'll have to work on."
"Are you mad?" Hermione scoffed, "What makes you think I'm going to work on anything with Voldemort?"
Voldemort's eyes flashed, and Hermione instantly regretted her outburst.
"Ah, so you do know who I am. Your clueless act was becoming tiresome," Voldemort said. "We'll have to work on that temper as well. Gryffindor, perhaps?"
Hermione took a deep breath and calmed herself before making any other mistakes.
"Again, what on earth makes you think would I work on anything with you?"
"You see, Hermione, when a fragment of my soul implanted in you, it became bonded with yours," Voldemort explained. "This kind of soul bond is very old, very dark magic. It is comprehensive and irreversible. Our souls are inextricably linked, physically, spiritually, and even magically."
Hermione's head spun.
"That's not possible. No such magic has ever been attempted."
"Darling, I'm sure you know that Lord Voldemort is beyond the limits of possibility."
"There is no way. Absolutely not."
"You're a clever witch. You of all people should know that soul magic cannot be reversed."
Hermione felt sick.
"Give me back my wand."
"I will return it as soon as I'm convinced you won't do anything stupid."
Hermione gazed at him impassively.
"So, here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell me what you know."
"You are out of your mind if you think I'd ever help you," Hermione scoffed. "I should Avada you right there."
"Well then, darling," Tom said smoothly, "you would effectively be killing yourself too. You see, our fates are now linked."
Voldemort Transfigured a glass, filled it with water, and handed it to her. She gulped it down reluctantly.
"Stray too far, and you'll find your magic just as diminished as mine."
"What if I'm willing to die to stop you?"
"You and I both know that's not true, Hermione."
Irritated, Hermione realized he could be right. Maybe she wasn't as noble as she'd thought.
"You're wrong," she lied. "But just because our souls are bonded doesn't mean I'm going to help you."
"I think you'll find that helping me is in your best interest. Here's your wand," Voldemort said, offering it to her.
"Oh, and before you go," he said, "I think I'll be going by Tom now."
"Yeah right, Voldemort". Hermione said, her voice trailing away as she Apparated out.