The Secrets of My Heart

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Chapter 3: My Future is Decided

Hermione struggled to breathe. Finally she gasped out, "Did you say Dumbledore?"

Voldemort smiled, staring off into the distance unseeingly. "Yes. Your mother--my prisoner, lover, mistress, and eventually wife--was the great granddaughter of Albus Dumbledore. Rhianna Marie Dumbledore... Is it any surprise that you are as powerful as you are? The descendent of not only Salazar Slytherin, but Albus Dumbledore as well..."

Hermione closed her eyes, breathing slowly, in and out, in and out, in and out... She opened her eyes again, and was met by the strange sight of Voldemort crouched in front of her seat, his elbows on his knees, his hands steepled in front of him. Hermione was shocked to see the Dark Lord in such a ... domestic position. "I don't quite understand all of this," Hermione admitted quietly.

Voldemort's brow rose questioningly.

"I thought... I mean... I had heard from Harry that the reason the Killing Curse hadn't worked was because you didn't believe in love. But if what you're telling me is true..."

"Have I any reason to lie?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, you do. But I think you're telling the truth, if only because everything is finally falling into place." Hermione sat up, her eyes brightening. "It explains why,well, why I'm so powerful for one thing. And why my parents acted so strangely when I asked whether this necklace" -she pulled the emerald pendant out from beneath her robes--"was a family heirloom. But... Well, my only question right now is, why didn't the counter-curse kill you? Or, why did it even hurt you at all, if it was only a counter-curse?"

Voldemort sighed heavily. "The Potters, as I mentioned before, were much more powerful than anyone expected, or even knew really. Not only had they discovered the counter-curse, but they were working on perfecting it so that it would not only deflect the curse from you, but deflect itself onto the person who it had originated from.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Then why couldn't you touch Harry when you were trying to get the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Dumbledore," he replied simply. Seeing Hermione's questioning look, he elaborated. "He knew, of course. What I was trying to do. He put a spell on Potter that was specifically calibrated to Quirrell."

"You don't mind my saying that's really quite farfetched, do you?"

"Well," Voldemort replied amiably, "it was Dumbledore. I freely admit that he's probably equal in all my powers."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "If that's trued...then that means you never feared him."

"He was Rhianna's great grandfather. I couldn't very well go around killing her family, now could I?"

Suddenly Hermione had a great desire to laugh. So she did. For a long time.

***

Draco paced his room. He'd returned from delivering Hermione three hours earlier, and had been at it ever since. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He'd known it when Voldemort had ordered them all out. He ran his hands through his hair. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could have done.

But he knew that if anything happened to her, he would only blame himself. It had been that way for a long while. He'd taken it upon himself to make her life as peaceful as possible; or at least a peaceful as it could be, under the circumstances. He'd succeeded in keeping Flintaway from her, other than the leering looks and the occasional whipping. He shuddered. But at least Flinthadn't raped her. Yet.

That was the operative word, wasn't it? Yet.He wished he had more power. Even if he hated the Dark Lord--and he did--perhaps with more power he might be able to buy Hermione, and keep her away from the others. He gripped the bedpost in sudden anger. He shouldn't have to buy her! She should be free. He groaned, falling to the floor, burying his face in his hands. They should all be free.

***

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and spun around a few times. The black silk clung alluringly to her body, and she smiled at her reflection. Ah, yes. Being the daughter of Voldemort certainly had its advantages. She was extremely glad that she wasn't a prisoner anymore. Of course, Voldemort had explained that she was not to leave the grounds--but at least now she wouldn't be whipped anymore.

Anyone who hurt her in any way would answer to Voldemort. And no one wanted to answer to him. It was almost suicide, to make the Dark Lord angry. And hurting the Dark Lord's daughter...ah, yes.The epitome of all bad deeds.

She hadn't seen Harry since the day before. She hoped he wasn't worrying about her too much. Of course, they probably thought she was dead. She'd thought she was dead as well. In fact, she probably would have been, if her pendant hadn't fallen out of her robe. Voldemort had let her see the matching one more closely, and she had been amazed to discover that they were exactly the same, in every single way.

Voldemort had also given her a few lessons in how she was to act as his daughter. She'd caught on quickly, and could now successfully make Pettigrew quake in his shoes at the mere raise of a brow. She smiled to herself. It really wasn't that difficult, and there was the fact that it was 'in the genes.'

Hermione was now situated comfortably in the room across from Voldemort's. She supposed she should start to think of him as her father, as that was what everyone else would think of her as. She was giddy with excitement, and couldn't wait to see what Lucius Malfoy thought of her. The asshole would most likely blanch at the site of her decked out in the Dark Lord's jewelry--not to mention the little announcement that she was, in fact, his daughter.

Ah, yes... This was going to be an interesting evening.

***

Draco sighed, slipping on his dress robes. He had no idea what had happened to Hermione, but now he had a ball to go to. His father insisted that he come. Apparently, Voldemort was making a very important announcement, having to do with his heir... And Lucius was positive that the said heir would be Draco.

Draco himself had no such thoughts. He supposed it was possible, but he was relatively certain Voldemort would have mentioned something by now.

The young man walked into the Slytherin common room and saw his father waiting for him, Pansy Parkinson at his side. The girl smiled at him, and he grimaced inwardly. His father wanted him to marry the chit--said it would be a good match. He, of course, would rather marry a snake than marry Pansy, but what his father said was law, and with Voldemort at his back... He was unstoppable. Even in a matter as simple as a marriage.

He offered Pansy his arm and they followed Lucius to the Great Hall. They sat down at the Head table. It was reserved only for Voldemort's most loyal followers--the Malfoys, Peter Pettigrew, and the Legranges, after they had escaped from Azkaban.

Voldemort suddenly swept into the Great Hall, and all conversation ceased as the Dark Lord's red eyes swept over the populace. His smile was small, and was creased with evil. "I present to you all, my daughter and heir, Lady Hermione Rhianna Thomasine Voldemort."

A collective gasp--that was quickly silenced--swept through the Hall as Hermione came into view. Draco gaped. Hermione was Voldemort's daughter? No wonder he had gotten everyone to leave the room as quickly as possible. But still, it didn't make complete sense. He saw the servants, the Gryffindors, looking at her with shock, and just a twinge of betrayal. He could understand their feelings, but he had a feeling that Hermione had had no idea she was Voldemort's daughter. After all, why hadn't she been with him the entire time? And why hadn't she been introduced as soon as the Dark Lord had taken over Hogwarts? It had been two months.

Draco shook his head, daring a glance at his father. The older Malfoy looked quite baffled, and angry as well. Probably at himself. Draco sighed. Lucius was probably berating himself for not realizing who Granger--well, he supposed it was Voldemort now--really was. He didn't blame him. They would most likely be on her bad side, seeing how many times the elder Malfoy had called her a Mudblood and insulted her friends, one of which was now dead. That had to create some enmity.

Hermione was making her way to the Head table, following her father. Her eyes swept across the room, taking everything in. He saw her inquisitive look change to one of pleading, and he followed her gaze to rest on Parvati Patil. She had been in their year, he remembered now. Parvati and Ron had been dating when Hogwarts was attacked, and he was killed. Parvati no doubt blamed Hermione for it now.

The Dark Lady sat on her father's right side and waited for Voldemort to make his announcement.

The Dark Lord raised a brow at his daughter, and she gave him a small smile. Draco could have sworn the man had smiled in return, but in a flash it was gone, and the cold, evil bastard was in his place. "You may eat." The tables were filled with food, and conversation started immediately. However, no one at the Head table spoke. Voldemort preferred to eat in peace, quietly, and many had learned the hard way not to speak during mealtimes. Hermione, however, had no such inhibitions.

"So, Lucius, I hear you have been working on a way to break into the Ministry. How is that coming along?"

Lucius looked panicked, and glanced at Voldemort. The older man merely raised a brow as if to say, 'Well, aren't you going to answer my daughter?' Lucius quickly did so. "Wonderfully, my dear," he said silkily. "But perhaps you would prefer to talk to Miss Parkinson? After all, the potions and charms we are working with are so advanced that I am sure you would not understand..." Lucius trailed off, quaking under the Dark Lord's glare.

"I assure you, Lucius," Hermione said in a hard voice, "that it is not too advanced for me. I was in the top of my class until you came here, and I believe that I still would be. I studied Advanced Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms. I have snuck into the restricted section of the library countless times in search of information I could not find anywhere else. Surely a little breaking and entering cannot be too difficult pour moi?"

Lucius shook his head quickly, "No, of course not, my lady."

"Good." Suddenly she smiled. "So, where were we?"