A/N: And... it's finished! Please tell me what you think of the ending. :-)

16: Epilogue - the Future is Bright

"Your son is so handsome," Ginny said, smiling at Hermione, as the Potter's oldest boy, James, played with Hermione's own in the garden.

Hermione and Severus were on one of their rare visits to England, and for once, the English summer showed itself from its best side, at least in Godric's Hollow. It was warm and sunny, and dappled shade from the great trees in the Potter's garden made the temperature bearable.

After the Dark Lord's fall, Hermione and Severus had decided the attention from the Wizarding community was too much, and the continuing apologies from acquaintances and friends were becoming increasingly awkward. Fleeing an endless row of inquires about interviews from journalists and researchers, as well as the general gawking of the public, they had packed up as soon as Hermione had taken all her NEWTS, settling in Paris for her studies at Sorbonne. Severus had started his own brewing company, researching and manufacturing potions for apothecaries and other distributors.

Now, eleven years later, his company had grown into worldwide distribution of his potions, while she had become a Professor at Sorbonne herself, teaching Theoretical Magic, famous and respected for her groundbreaking research, but also infamous for frequently crediting Lord Voldemort as a source in her articles and books.

Her son, however, had been born a mere nine months after the shotgun wedding officiated by Voldemort himself. She was forever thankful for the way Severus had handled this, and he had proven his worth as a wizard, man and husband. It was clear, he had struggled with the fact that he was going to raise Voldemort's child as his own, but he had been a pillar of strength for her, showing her unwavering support when she grieved for her lost Lord and went through all the anxiety and pains of becoming a mother. But it was worth it. She loved her son fiercely, protectively, with all her heart, and she'd do anything for him. Even destroy the world.

Then her son's magic manifested: strongly, quickly and surprisingly controlled. And to their mutual shock, Severus' horror and Hermione's secret joy, both recognized the boy's magical signature.

"It's him, isn't it?" Severus had groaned, clutching a tumbler of Firewhisky, late one night the year their son turned two. "This isn't his son. It's him, the fucking Dark Lord reborn. How in the name of Merlin did he manage this? And does he know?"

"I don't know," she whispered, biting her lip as she looked down on the crib, where her beautiful, dark-haired child was sleeping, one hand tucked underneath his chin. He looked so innocent, so sweet, and she couldn't really believe that Voldemort, the cruel, brilliant yet passionate man she had loved, was inside her baby boy - WAS her baby boy. But her heart soared, because the world suddenly seemed so much brighter.

For years afterwards, she had worked ceaselessly to discover how her son came to be, and what had happened to her on that Samhain night. Research showed that there weren't any theories that could explain what had happened, but it only made her work harder.

Slowly, she came to the realization that she might need to take action, just to make sure her life - her son, the light of her life - was to be a reality, and the blockage in her mind as to what had happened slowly dissipated. Her breakthrough as a renowned scientist was the work 'The Manipulation of Time and Matter'. The book had, of course, been delivered to him in the past, as she remembered seeing it during one of her visits.

Xxxx

Voldemort had been pleased to see her, and she had enjoyed his presence immensely. For that first visit, they had been discussing her work throughout the night, ending with a rough shag at dawn, as the pale light filtered into his office. The sun might have risen, but she saw stars as the Dark Lord made her orgasm on his cock, as she clung to his frame when he took her hard against the wall.

Afterwards, she had sobbed into his shoulder, telling him she missed him - the adult him - and surprisingly, he had let her cry in his arms. Before she left, he asked her to return, to tell him about his future.

After her first trip to the past, upon seeing the handprints and marks on her body, Severus had set his jaw angrily, and he hadn't talked to her for days and days. The only thing that had moved him to speak to her again, was the promise of giving him a child too. He had taken her roughly, like he was still furious, but in the end, he gasped into her mouth as he came: ""Gods, I love you, Hermione. No matter what you do, I love you."

Their three-year old daughter Eileen, a quiet child, always observing her surroundings with her dark eyes, long black curls in adorable ringlets down her back, were currently napping inside the house.

Her trips to the past, however, continued. "You are delightfully clever," Voldemort told her, receiving her cloaked and shrouded form in secret on the nights her young self was absent, "both the younger you and your adult self. You do, however, lack a certain creativity in your approach. Let yourself be guided by your magic, Hermione, not only your rationality and logic. Your research will be better for it."

She remembered him saying something similar to her younger self, and she only glowered at him. That just made him laugh, telling her that it was refreshing for someone to oppose him.

It had been difficult to convince Voldemort that he should get himself killed to achieve a new, strong body, but her research and his own findings were supporting her ideas.

"Creating a new body is exceedingly difficult," he mused. "I've exhausted almost every possibility, except the solution you're offering. There is, however, a problem. I need to gather and assemble the split pieces of my soul, because such a Transfiguration of matter into a new body depends on the soul being whole."

In the end, she hadn't solved the how of it, but he had, applying his mind and power to manipulate both time and matter, finding the solution on how he could transform dead Horcruxes into a living soul, anchoring it into new flesh.

"Like a snake shedding its skin," he said thoughtfully, before finally nodding to her. "We'll do this. I will make your future become a reality. My future."

They had also discussed the event that set everything into motion - her broken Time-Turner. Voldemort had shrugged: "I'll take care of it. There was a man bumping into you, wasn't it? I see no reason as to why that shouldn't be me. After all, moving through time has become significantly easier by your research. Tell me, was it you who planted the idea of your first Time-travel in Dumbledore's head, too?" At that, she fell silent.

So, they had indeed raised the dead on Samhain - he had used her younger self's power and his own to harvest all the dead Horcruxes from the realm beyond into her living body, his seed creating life within her - and by his death, the final piece had followed the others to the new vessel they had created, making the child growing in her whole.

Xxxx

"Tam looks exactly like his father," Hermione said with a small smile.

Ginny laughed. "Come on, Hermione, Snape - sorry, I mean Severus - has surely never been that good looking. Even you cannot believe that."

Hermione shrugged. "Like I said, he takes after his father. In everything."

"Yes, yes," Ginny chuckled good-naturedly, clearly not wanting to start a fight about how Hermione perceived her husband. "I understand, he's very powerful for his age, isn't he?"

"He is," she confirmed with a small laugh, "very much so, and very concerned about his magical education too. At the moment, he's trying to decide if he'll attend Hogwarts, Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, and he's doing an extensively study on the staff's academic records, their magical merits and the general ranking in test scores at the schools over the last ten years."

The boys had now mounted brooms, and were zooming carefree about in the garden, laughing and shouting at each other.

Ginny whistled softly. "Wow, that's a far cry from what James does, though there's no wonder that yours and Severus' child would be some kind of brain prodigy." She laughed merrily, following her son with her eyes as he careened in and out between the trees. "James has decided he'll be Quidditch Captain, but as for the rest, he's not interested at all."

Hermione grinned. "He's a good flier, though."

Her son stopped in front of them, hovering, and gave the two witches a wide, charming smile and a wave with his hand, the greenish-silvery birthmark on his left arm flashing into brief visibility in the sunlight. His dark eyes almost sparkled at them, and the ink-black hair fell into his eyes, before he swept the hair away with a practised movement.

"He's definitely going to be a charmer," Ginny mumbled as he shot off, and Hermione nodded.

"Tam, his name, that's of Scottish origin, isn't it? It's unusual," Ginny said, glancing at her own dark-haired boy, who were now hanging upside down from his broom, grinning like a madman.

"Yes," Hermione said stiffly. "It means 'twin'."

At that exact moment, James fell off his broom, landing on his head. Ginny cursed under her breath, and rushed off to see to him.

Tam stopped, looking innocently at the spectacle, James crying, Ginny soothing, and then Hermione felt the strong arms of her husband snaking around her waist from behind.

"It's only a matter of time before someone notices," he said softly.

"Shh," she said, shaking her head. "If so happens, we'll deal with it."

He snorted. "Or else, he'll try to do so himself. It better be us. He may not remember yet, but all his instincts are there. You know as well as I do, he'd take pride in being compared to him. "

Voldemort had decided, his memories would be blocked until his seventeenth birthday, because a child couldn't be trusted with his knowledge. The risk of being discovered by his own actions would be too great. Privately, Hermione agreed. The Dark Lord's full power and knowledge in a temperamental toddler or teenager would be a nightmare. Still, at times, she wondered if there were cracks in the blockage.

"That's why he shouldn't go to Hogwarts, though I think he wants to," she mumbled, leaning back into her husband's chest. "The memories are still fresh in Britain."

Sighing contentedly, she enjoyed the feeling of his body against her. She was wearing a flimsy summer dress, befitting the warm weather, and even Severus had foregone his frock coat, wearing only a shirt with rolled-up sleeves and trousers. The warmth from his body seeped into her skin comfortably, the thin fabrics between their bodies not being much of a barrier.

Severus looked good, she thought, her hands clasping his larger ones, being almost fifty suited him. He wasn't as thin as in the days of his role as a double agent, and more sun, more food and a peaceful life dedicated to research and brewing had served him well. Even the strands of silver in his hair looked good - distinguished, she rather thought.

The Dark Mark was as fiercely black as ever on his left arm, while her green and silver Mark adorned her own. No one had questioned why the Dark Mark didn't fade after Voldemort's fall, but then again, she supposed very few knew had in-depth knowledge of how magical bindings worked. In France, at least, most people only thought they had a family tattoo. Still, she made sure to refresh the Notice-Me-Not on Tam's arm frequently.

The world had been a safe place, these last, eleven years. Rebuilding, education, research and prosperity had been on everyone's mind, at least after the Death Eaters were rounded up for their trials. Most of them had been found, excepting one notorious witch. In the aftermath of the war, no one could seem to find Bellatrix Lestrange. However, Hermione was very pleased with the pokers in her fireplace tool set.

The familiar, spicy scent of her husband mingled with the roses blooming in Harry and Ginny's garden, and she whispered contentedly: "I love you, Severus."

He snorted. "You loved him more - you love him more."

Rolling her eyes - would this discussion never end? - she retorted: "And you, you loved Lily more than me."

"And yet," he said ruefully, placating her, stroking her arms, "we're happy. You know I love you too. I'm sorry I brought it up, this discussion is old and futile. But sometimes … it's still hard. Especially when we talk about it."

"Yes," she sighed. "I know. But I've got you, and Tam. I'm happy."

From a distance, her son cocked his head, like he knew they were talking about him. He cast her a glance, but somehow, his eyes always seemed much too knowing for his age, like he knew a secret she wasn't fully in on. He turned his head as his eyes followed Ginny leading a sobbing James back into the house, a wicked little smile playing on his lips.

And Hermione couldn't help wonder, had she done the right thing? If she had sacrificed her heart on the altar of the Greater Good, wouldn't that make her evil?

She supposed, Dumbledore would have told her to choose the Greater Good, to make sure Voldemort would never come back, but she wasn't so sure. If love went out of the equation, the future would be a bleak place. Her own love for her son - for her Dark Lord - had been the driving force behind her research. When the breakthrough came in her research, she had chosen him, chosen to go back to give the adult him the final clues to achieve a new body, a method for immortality, by her ideas of manipulating time and matter. In the end, who was the great manipulator? He, who had split his soul and killed his body to achieve a new future, or herself, who had made it possible? As always, Hermione didn't want to think too hard on that question.

As for now, only time could tell what the result of her choice would be. At least, the future was bright for her family, if not so much for the world.

A/N: It was a blast, writing this. The story had been sitting in my head for a couple of weeks, when, during my summer vacation, it suddenly turned into a full-fledged obsession. I stopped writing the other story I was working on (a new Snamione), and plunged headfirst into this. It was written within less than two weeks, bar editing. My family wasn't too happy about it, though.

This story is for those of you who are just as deviant as me: loving Hermione with both Severus and Voldemort. Thank you for reading this, and sticking with my slightly insane plot - - but don't ask me if the sexual binding survived. I'd rather not think about that… *rolls eyes*