A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Everything is getting quite tense, isn't it? Huge thanks to lanamarymack and Angela 007, who I never give enough time to, for alpha/beta reading! They are a huge help. You can find me on tumblr as nauticalparamour.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirty-eight and be on the lookout for chapter thirty-nine soon!


As the weeks with Caro sped by, Hermione grew more comfortable with a baby on her hip. She was enjoying the longer stretches that her baby was awake, seeing as she'd spent so much of the first month sleepy and milk drunk. It was sweet to see her attempting to lift her head or watch her dark blue eyes dart around the room.

Lughansadh had come and gone. Hermione had spent the day alone with Caroline and Honey and tried not to miss the festivities. The house elf, sensing her longing, promised to watch the baby very well during the Equinox, but Hermione was still not committed to leaving her child alone for such a long time.

Tom eased some of the disappointment of not being able to attend by returning to their bed at night and telling her everything that had happened. Apparently Antonin had won the races that year. Mulciber, disappointed at being bested had drawn the other man into a wrestling match, the tussle lasting a good long while until Antonin was the winner once again.

"All of the Knights seemed completely lost without their goddess to watch over them," he whispered to her in the dark, before nipping the skin at her bare shoulder.

Hermione smiled at the thought. "I highly doubt it was all of them," she answered, knowing that there were still some who did not appreciate her presence at these things. "But, I missed seeing everyone as well."

Tom spent most of his time with Abraxas these days, as the date of the election was finally set for early August. He went around meeting with this member and that of the Wizengamot, though it seemed as though they only ever met with wizards whom were already aligned with Malfoy. When she expressed her concerns, she was brushed off once again for not knowing the makeup of the Wizengamot.

The votes were there, as she was often promised. Hermione bit her tongue, determined not to say I-told-you-so when he failed, too often worrying about how she would sooth Tom's wounded pride when he was not picked. She wasn't sure how he would recover from such a slight. Even worse was the thought of what would happen if he was elected and Malfoy's terrible plans were brought to fruition.

In between cigars and brandy and backroom promises, her husband would return home to spend time with her and their daughter. There was no denying that Caroline hung the moon as far as Tom was concerned. She was surprised as he did not strike her as paternal in any way and, by all accounts, he had not been interested in continuing his family line before she had fallen pregnant.

Still, Hermione welcomed the sight of Tom pacing back and forth in the library with his daughter in his arms, describing various spells to her or listing all the potions that they would brew together, because of course the child of Tom and Hermione Riddle would be nothing but great. She would be first in her class in all years at Hogwarts, coming to school with a knowledge no other student possessed. Then, she could be a prefect once she got to Fifth Year. And, nothing less than Head Girl would be acceptable, following in her father's footsteps. She could play Quidditch if she must, but only if it didn't get in the way of her studies.

Hermione loved to think of that future, though she was contented to let Caroline be a baby for a little while yet.

The Saturday before the election, Tom insisted that Hermione relinquish Caroline to Honey for the evening, after seeing that she was fed and asleep, before pulling her into the dining room so that they could enjoy a meal together.

"I look forward to doing this more often soon," he told her, honestly. "Once I am Minister, I won't have to be everywhere at once."

"Or perhaps you will have even more people clamoring after your attention," she quipped, with no illusions that he would remain busy once he was the Minister of Magic. All the more reason for her to find a job or a purpose to keep herself busy. Caroline would not be small forever, as he was so keen to remind her. "I wonder if Abraxas will be jealous."

Tom could not help but smirk at her jibe at his friend's expense. "He rather imagines himself as my puppet master, does he not?" he asked, very aware of what Malfoy was up to.

"So long as there really are no strings to pull," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. Tom often reminded her that he only did things that he wanted to do, but it was difficult to believe at times.

When their dinner was finished, they retired to the library - a favorite place for both of them - where Tom had arranged for glasses of champagne.

"Are we celebrating something?" she asked, surprised at the lavish surprise.

He pursed his lips. "More of an apology of sorts. I know that I've been neglecting you," he told her, taking a step closer to her, until she had to tilt her neck up to look at him. "And I want you to know that I do not do it lightly."

"It's temporary," she said, swallowing the knot that had formed in her throat. It was good to have her hurt acknowledged.

He pulled a green velvet box from his pocket and pressed it into her hands. "I also have a little gift for you," he said, his breath catching. "I hope that you will wear it when the results are announced and you are at my side, supporting me."

She scrunched her nose. "You know you do not need to impress me with jewelry," she said, even as her eager fingers took the box in her hands.

"I think this is a bit more than that," he said, cryptically.

Confused, Hermione opened the box to see what was inside. To her surprise, it appeared to be a locket on a long, silver chain. The locket was also made out of silver and had several emerald stones in line in the shape of an 'S'...or maybe a snake. She traced the shape with her finger tips and caressed the metal, shuddering at the familiar feeling of it.

"It belonged to my ancestor," he said, puffing out his chest. "Salazar Slytherin. And, it holds a piece of my soul..or a piece of my heart really."

Hermione stilled as she thought over his words. A piece of his soul. She felt her blood run cold when she realized what he meant. But, he couldn't mean it literally, could he? Her eyes snapped up to his face from the locket.

"Tom," she whispered, wetting her lips. "Is this a horcrux?" she asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

He smirked at her, obviously pleased that she had worked it out all on her own. "Yes," he said, without hesitation or shame. "And so you must understand how important this is - my giving it to you. That I am trusting you with my soul. You must do everything in your power to keep it safe."

She snapped the velvet box shut once again, holding it tightly to her chest as her heart began to hammer against her ribcage. "A horcrux?" she repeated, unable to believe what it was that she was hearing. "But Tom, I've read how these are made...how you must have ripped your soul into pieces to create this. Please tell me that you didn't," she begged.

He stood still, obviously unprepared for this sort of response. "Do you want me to lie to you?" he asked.

"No!"

"Then I cannot tell you that," he snapped back.

"Tom, this is dark magic," she continued.

"I thought that you were beginning to understand that the lines between light and dark are blurred," he argued, unphased. "And that dark magic was not so bad when weighed against what it could do for you. I don't remember you complaining about dark magic when you led us at Ostara."

"That was different," she argued, her cheeks going red. "That was me giving my blood willingly. We are talking about murder. You, you killed someone."

He rolled his eyes. "I did not make it a secret," he answered, though the topic had certainly never come up before. "And when weighed with what I get in return, I certainly wouldn't bat an eye about it."

"Oh, and just what do you get in return?" she demanded, wondering how her husband - the man that she loved - was going to justify taking someone else's life.

"Invincibility!" he answered, his voice rising in volume. "Everlasting life. I saw what happened to my mother, snatched away by Death at the most inopportune moment, and I vowed that Death would never come for me."

"Death comes for everyone eventually," Hermione tried to counsel, realising that much of his fear came from losing his mother before he even knew her.

"Except me," he countered victoriously, his white teeth shining in the dim light of the room, reminding her of a predator.

His words made her feel very small. Tears welled up in her eyes when she wondered where that put her in his life. She thought of their baby girl, so small and helpless. Where was she in Tom's life? "And if you are just going to live forever..." she croaked, barely able to keep her tears at bay. "That means that you will outlive me. And Caroline. How can you stand to see us wither away while you outlast us both?"

He stilled his dark blue eyes wild at the suggestion. "I won't," he insisted. "You will make one, too, of course. And when Caroline is of age and the time is right, she will as well. I won't let anyone take you from me. This is a safeguard, same as that ring you wear on your finger."

Finally the tears did fall down her cheeks. She pulled away from him. "Don't ask me that," she said, unwilling to look him in the eye. "I will never do that. And if I can help it, I will never let my daughter either. She is too pure."

"I'm only trying to protect you from those who would try to take you from me," he answered.

"No one is trying to take me from you," she argued, unmoved by his plea.

"Hermione, I have sought one thing my whole life - power. And when you are a powerful wizard - perhaps the most powerful alive - people seek to tear you down," he tried to explain. "They try to hurt you in any way that they can. If they cannot kill me, they will seek to hurt me in other ways. Please consider it."

It was too much. Her skin hurt, like she was too full of emotion for her body. She needed space - to get away from him. "Don't come to bed tonight," she ordered him, before stalking off towards the door.

"I'll be out late tonight anyway, with Malfoy," he said, still trying to cement people before the end. "I'll sleep in the guest room, if you'd prefer it that way."

Hurt to know that he'd always intended to leave her after giving her some champagne and a pretty bauble, she retreated to the sanctuary of her own room without giving him any acknowledgement. He thought that he could change her mind, but Hermione was very certain that she could never be swayed. She didn't want to live forever. She didn't fear Death like Tom did.

Once she was alone, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the traitorous velvet box that she was still holding onto. Even if she didn't agree with what he'd done, it was still a part of Tom's soul. It wasn't as if she was going to let anything happen to it.

Flipping the lid open a second time, she looked at the silver locket with trepidation. Releasing a breath when nothing horrid happened, she carefully studied the 'S' once more. It would be terribly romantic if she hadn't known what he'd done to make it.

She plucked the locket up from the box and held the weight in her hand, surprised by how familiar it felt. Despite herself, she put the heavy chain around her neck, feeling the weight settle on her shoulders. It was a bit of Tom, so that must be why it felt so familiar to her. Not comforting really just...like an old friend.

Hermione toyed with the clasp, wondering what Salazar Slytherin might have held inside of it. Certainly nothing as exciting as a soul piece, she thought with a grin. Then, to her surprise, the clasp clicked and the locket popped open. She was immediately filled with a sense of dread, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had just been poured over her head. A voice, low and sinister, began to pour from the locket as she watched, entranced.

"Hermione Granger," the chilling voice whispered, slithering into her ears like a snake. "I have seen your heart and it is mine."