Author's Note: I am going to end this story here, because I have a sequel planned for it and I want to pick up events when I begin the sequel. Just a heads-up!

Hermione sloshed wine as she attempted to pour herself yet another glass. This was her fourth glass - no, fifth. Sixth. She couldn't remember. The bottle was almost empty. Hermione rubbed at her sore eyes as she chugged the wine down and slammed the empty glass on her low table. She picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet and struggled, through her blurred, drunken vision, to read the homage to Albus Dumbledore that had been written.

Hermione Granger, who had fought alongside the Order of the Phoenix, had contributed directly to Dumbledore's death in this time. She had willed Tom Riddle - Lord Voldemort - into coercing Bellatrix Black to murder the man. Then Bellatrix herself had been killed. Earlier today, Gideon Prewett had been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss at Azkaban. Molly Prewett, Ronald's mother and Gideon's sister, had fainted at the trial and had been attended to by Healers.

What had she become? Hermione wondered? What sort of monster had she turned into? She wrenched her eyes shut and tried desperately to think positively of Ron Weasley. She remembered the time she'd danced with him in their flat as the Wizarding Wireless had crackled out a romantic tune. They'd both been tipsy and giggly. She'd been trying to explain some complex concept from work, and he'd just kissed her to shut her up.

Hermione's wistful smile disappeared. He'd kissed her to shut her up. He'd never really wanted to hear what she'd had to say. He'd never actually been interested in her intellectual ventures. Not ever. Not really.

She tried to think of the time he'd pounded her from behind and she'd almost come just from the penetration. But then he'd finished and flopped over onto the bed and asked her to get them some water. She'd almost climaxed, and it had felt good, but Ron hadn't cared whether or not Hermione had crossed the finish line. Sex had always been a bit of a mess between the two of them.

Hermione scowled and desperately tried to remember why she'd ever thought it was a good idea to be married to Ron Weasley. In what universe, she wondered, had she thought that marrying him had been the right thing to do? Why had she led herself down a path to unhappiness, just so that she could be married to one of her best friends?

It didn't matter now. He wasn't here. Ron Weasley was gone, and Hermione was never going back. She had a One-Way Time-Turner. She could never go back, could she?

"No, you can not."

Hermione gasped and flew to her feet, whirling around and stumbling in her drunkenness. She whipped out her wand, which immediately flew away toward the corner of the room. Before her stood a very ancient-looking wizard, with long, wispy hair. He wore flowing silvery robes and appeared to be some sort of vision, some sort of ghost. He was solid, and opaque, but there was something off about him, as though he were not fully in the room.

"My name is Odysseus Siegel," said the man, taking a step toward Hermione through the sitting room of the black and white suite. She straightened up and wished she had her wand. She felt powerless, all of a sudden, standing before him without her instrument of magic. She threw up every Occlumency defence she had, but Odysseus just smirked and said, "He's taught you well, my dear. Your mind is well-guarded. And have you taught him well? It seems he has a new path to forge."

"Albus Dumbledore is dead," Hermione slurred. "It's all my fault."

"It is your… doing. In part," Odysseus confirmed. "You helped Lord Voldemort find his way to being the supreme magical force in this world. You will continue to do so. It is your place in this time to walk with him. Arm in arm."

"That's what he said," Hermione said, feeling breathless. "Arm in arm."

"You are his Dark Lady," Odysseus nodded. "You will do great things with him. The two of you will be magnificent. And I wish for you to know… the time you spent pining, wishing, wanting… a child. That time will come. Not now, but later. When the pieces fall into place. Be patient, and you will see."

Hermione's eyes seared. She and Ron had fought like cats over her wish for a baby, over Ginny's pregnancy and newborn, over what Ron perceived as their mutual inability to ever conceive. Hermione had broached the topic of future children with Tom, but he hadn't seemed receptive. Now Odysseus was telling her that that day would come to pass at some point. What was she to make of that?

"Two sets of eyes I have seen," Odysseus mused. "One caramel, one dark. One the father's, one the mother's. One a girl, and one a boy. Greatly loved will they be, by the Dark Lord and the Dark Lady who rear them. But they will not come for a great while yet, not until after their father's ascent. So you must walk with him, guide him. Be the voice in his ear and the drum in his heart. Will you do it?"

"This is why you sent me here." Hermione felt more drunk than ever. She'd gotten drunk because she'd felt guilty about Dumbledore, about Ron. She'd gotten drunk because she'd felt guilty about coming back in time and leaving her world behind. But suddenly she had visions of children, of Tom being powerful in all the right ways, and she couldn't breathe. She shook her head and whispered, "You sent me here to help him win. Why didn't you tell me?"

Odysseus laughed softly and tipped his head, folding his hands before his silvery robes. "My dear, you never, ever would have rotated that Time-Turner if I'd indicated to you that the purpose of your travel was to fall in love with and to assist the Dark Lord. But, yes, that is why you have come. To change the past and the change the future. To be his Lady. And, oh the things you'll do. Have you got your stone?"

Hermione reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out the Protean-linked stone she'd created for Tom. She panted a little and then demanded of Odysseus,

"How do you know about these?"

"He told about them, later on." Odysseus smiled a little. "He said they the first of many great creations. Your magic is brilliant. Your mind is incomparable. And he will need you, the wondrous way you think - like no one else. He will need your power just as surely as the world will need his. And the other thing he needs, so very certainly, is your love."

"I do love him." Hermione bowed her head, her voice cracking. "I did not mean to fall in love with him, but here I am, very much in love with him."

"And he is already the better for it, Hermione." Odysseus' voice was soft. "I must go. My time here grows short. Love him. Work with him. Walk with him…"

Hermione raised her eyes and said gently, "Arm in arm."

The door behind her creaked open, and she heard Tom's voice call out, "Hermione? You weren't at dinner. I worry that you… Odysseus."

Hermione stared at Odysseus as she heard Tom's footsteps come walking into the room, as the door shut. Odysseus nodded and said almost weakly,

"My Lord."

"I see you have met the Dark Lady," Tom said, stepping up alongside Hermione, who was swaying from the drink. Tom eyed the wine glass and bottle and frowned.

"Hermione and I have actually met a great many times. She simply has not yet had the opportunity to remember any of them." Odysseus coughed a little. "I really must go. Be well, the both of you. I shall not see you for some time. I trust that you will walk your path on steady legs until then."

"Wait," Hermione said. Odysseus' pale eyes seemed to be fading. He was drifting in and out of translucence, as though he were struggling to stay in the room. Hermione rushed to say, "Thank you. For the Time-Turner. Thank you for sending me back. I would never have… I would never have him without you."

Odysseus smiled a little and said, "You would never have had each other, and that's what counts. Goodbye."

He dissolved into thin air then, like smoke from a candle snuffed out. It wasn't Disapparition; it was something else entirely. Hermione staggered over to the place where Odysseus had been standing, and she turned back to Tom. He glanced at the newspaper, the wine bottle, and the wine glass again, and he asked quietly,

"Are you all right?"

"I belong to the Dark Lord," Hermione blurted, walking back to him, her voice trembling with emotion. "I am your Lady. I will walk with you, arm in arm. Together, we will create a world with room for Muggle-borns. Room for Half-Bloods and Purebloods. Room for Beasts and Beings. You will be a very powerful wizard."

"And you will be a very influential witch," Tom said back, cupping her jaw. He bent down and kissed her, and she knew she must taste and smell of wine. If he cared, he didn't say so. He whispered against her, "Someday we will live together in our own grand home, and I will be the Dark Lord that nobody questions. And we will have little children. A few of them. Hmm? And you will be the Dark Lady, always creating new weapons for me. Always coming up with schemes and ideas to aid me, because you are so brilliant, Hermione Granger, and I can not help but love you to your core."

He kissed her harder then, and she sank against him, surrendering herself completely to the Darkness.

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you very much for reading this story. I have really enjoyed writing it. Its sequel will be entitled Convict and Construct and will be written after I write my next story, which is the sequel to Inimica, Amator. If you have not yet read Inimica, Amator and are interested in reading its sequel, please do catch up. Chapter 1 of Dominus, Particeps will be posted shortly. Thanks again for reading and reviewing.