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Tom clasped Hermione's hand just a bit tighter as the two of them began to walk into the Forbidden Forest under the light of the half-moon that shone above them. Crickets and frogs sang in the background—an unusual occurrence for this time of year. The oddness of it was not lost on either of the two travelers, who cast each other a slightly confused glance as they stepped further in.
"It is Voldemort!" hissed a voice from somewhere in the darkness. "He is young again, just as Draco told us."
"My Lord!" came a chorus of voices as masked Death Eaters emerged from their places of hiding. In all there were roughly thirty of them, almost exclusively men but for two or three stray women among them.
"But who is that with him?" growled one man. "Isn't that the little Mudblood who was always at Harry Potter's side? You must send her away, my Lord. Hermione Granger is one of your worst enemies."
"Hush!" Tom commanded as he stepped among them, his presence such that he seemed to tower above them all. Hermione's hand was still held tightly in his own, so that she was forced to come with him. She decided that she, too, would project an air of command, for if she would be by the side of this man, it would not do to show any sign of weakness in front of these people.
"But, my Lord!" insisted one of them, and Tom cast a wordless Crucio at him for his failure to comply.
"Have my followers suddenly forgotten how to follow orders in my absence?" he demanded hotly. "This is my birthday, you know, in more ways than one. Firstly because of my birth on this day originally, but now also because I have been reborn into this new time and place. And I will tell you here and now that what has gone before was not working. The old ways must die before the end of this century. Our world cannot move on into the future doing what it has been doing any longer."
"What do you mean, my Lord?"
"I have observed a disease among our kind, and it is this: inbreeding," he told them. "I once preached that blood purity was of the utmost importance, but I have since observed that this ideal is leading nowhere. Many of the strongest wizards and witches are not pure-blooded—myself included. There must be something to the fact that it was a half-blood boy who defeated the most powerful wizard in the world. And this witch, Muggle-born though she may be, is one of the most powerful I have seen."
Several of the men had begun to groan at his words, and when he pointed out the fact that Hermione was so very powerful, a murmur arose among the ranks.
"What is this? You dare to doubt my words?" Tom demanded.
"My Lord, if this witch is so very powerful, perhaps we will require proof of it," said one man boldly.
Tom flicked his wand at the wizard's mask, and it disintegrated in a puff of metallic smoke. The man behind the mask was not unknown to Hermione, though Tom could not possibly know him.
"Scabior?" she gasped. "I thought you were dead with the rest of your Snatchers."
"I Disapparated, love, just as soon as the bridge began to fall," he told her. The stubborn glint in his eyes did not dissipate, however, as he stared her coldly down.
"Do not address your Lady in such familiar tones," Tom told him as he aimed his wand at the man's throat.
"I'll not claim a Lady who cannot prove herself," he insisted. "If this little Mudblood is as powerful as you say, I would like to see it for myself. Only then will I believe your words—my Lord."
"Very well, then," Tom agreed, though it was clear that he rather felt like simply striking the man down where he stood. He gave Hermione's hand a little squeeze before he let her go, and bowed to her in an elaborate manner as he backed away. "Hermione, if you will?"
"How do you know I'm not still mad at you, Tom?" she challenged him as she stood her ground, slowly taking her wand out of the makeshift holster on her left hip.
"Hmm, that might make it a bit more fun," he told her with a somewhat sensual smile.
"Oh, really?" she inquired sweetly. "You won't think so in a few minutes."
"That's the spirit, my girl," he said, and lobbed a spell in her direction which she easily deflected. Not only did she deflect it, she turned it right back at him, which Tom had not expected her to do, so it hit him in the arm and made his elbow bleed. "Hey!" he gasped, glaring at her.
"Are you going to just stand there, or are we going to fight?" she challenged.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Tom inquired as he lobbed another spell, which she sidestepped neatly as she sent a stinging spell, hoping it would hit him right in the backside. "Ow!" he gasped when she was not far off the mark. "Oy, you really are mad."
"Mad? Why should I be mad?" she asked as she cast three more curses in quick succession. Tom only dodged two of them. "Why should it bother me that you used me just so you could come to the future?"
"Hermione! You know better than that!" he protested, lowering his wand as he spoke.
"Do I?" she asked, zapping his behind again.
"My Lord, you are not even trying," Scabior pointed out. "This is no test of skill, it's nothing more than a lover's spat."
"Very well, then," Tom said, becoming all business as he matched Hermione spell for spell. Some of them hit, but she was quick to mend or recover from every one of them. Each spell they lobbed became successively stronger until they were hurling spells the average wizard might have found much more difficult to deal with.
"Hey, Penelope, you really are good," said Scabior mockingly as the two continued. Hermione could tell he was simply trying to distract her. Rather than answer, she lobbed a stinging spell at his backside as well. Scabior gave a hoot of surprise and rubbed the sore spot, thinking better about adding any more commentary afterwards.
Then Hermione shouted, "Stupefy!" and was rather surprised when Tom went stiff and fell over.
"She got him!" gasped the collective crowd of Death Eaters, gaping at their unmoving Lord.
"I got him?" Hermione repeated, equally as stunned. "He's going to kill me!"
"Now there's an idea," said a big, burly Death Eater. "We could just kill her right now, while Lord Voldemort is indisposed."
"Are you crazy?" gasped another man in back. "He would kill us all."
Hermione watched as a tall man walked through the middle of the parting crowd and right up to her. She did not need him to remove his mask to know Lucius Malfoy. His detestable voice was quite familiar to her. Nevertheless, when he removed his mask she was somewhat surprised to see the dark circles that had been under his eyes when she'd last seen him were gone. She speculated that he'd had several months to heal since the Battle of Hogwarts, however, and thought no more about it.
"Lucius," she said as she looked up at him, keeping her face carefully neutral.
"Miss Granger," he answered as he stopped before her. "Draco tells me that you and the Dark Lord have become lovers."
"That is none of your business," she answered hotly.
"Calm down, my dear," he said so that only she could hear him. "I'm only trying to save your life."
"Why would you do that?" she demanded, though less vehemently than before.
"Let us say I wish to make amends," he said in smooth, aristocratic tones. Then he turned to face the others. "If the Dark Lord has chosen this girl for himself, who are we to second-guess his decision?"
"She's a bleedin' Mudblood, Malfoy!" shouted the elder Goyle as his son fidgeted at his side.
"Mudblood she may be," said Scabior as he stepped to the front to stand with Hermione and Lucius. "But, she has proven to be just as powerful as our Lord has said—if not more so. I for one will be proud to stand at her side."
Lucius stepped aside as his Lord got to his feet. Having shaken off the Stupefy spell, he had heard everything the men were saying, and chosen this moment to rise. He stepped past Lucius with an air of ownership as he took Hermione's hand in his own once again.
Blushing hotly, Hermione looked at her feet as he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "My Lady," he whispered into her ear, and pulled her closer to his side. "Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was about to reveal my new plan. And I want you all to listen closely, because I don't care what my plan was before. To tell you the truth, I don't even know. We're going to overthrow the Ministry, but not with a frontal assault. Too long have Wizards lived in the shadow of their tyranny, unable to cast the spells they wish, unable to marry the spouse of their own choosing, unable to do anything without their grubby fingers in our way. But if we want to end their reign, we'll have to take them down from within."
"Here, here!" Lucius exclaimed. "As I have told you often enough, my Lord."
"No!" shouted Goyle hotly. "We have only ever wanted to destroy them, not become a part of them. I'll not stand idly by while this puppy masquerades as our Lord. This is not the same man whom we have followed thus far."
"The man you followed was merely a copy of myself, sir, and a poor one at that," Tom told him. "He made many decisions I never would have, I must say. But, make no mistake, my minions, when I tell you that I possess more power than he did as well. Cross me, and you will feel my wrath."
"I will have no part of this!" Goyle shouted angrily. "I'll not stand by as you invite the pure-bloods to breed with their inferiors, and take a passive path rather than the straightforward one we have always preferred. You are no Lord of mine!"
"Go, then," Tom told him. "Get out of here before I change my mind, and end you here and now. And anyone else who agrees with him, you had better leave as well. I have no room for doubters in Riddle mansion."
Tom stood watching as about ten men and one woman Apparated away. Everyone else watched him expectantly. He said nothing more, but instead leaned down and spoke into his Lady's ear.
"What about you, Mione?" he asked softly. "Will you leave me, too?"
Hermione felt a lump in her throat at the very thought. She could not speak, but she was able to shake her head. Tom laughed in relief, and held her close to him as everyone Apparated away around them, and he finally Apparated the two of them as well.
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