Warnings; Semi-graphic murder, sex

PART FIVE

XVIII / 19 September 2014

"Hermione," Tom murmured. His fingers drew through her hair as hers drew over on of the scars on his stomach, barely an inch away from the lung that lay beneath.

"Tell me," she murmured.

He sighed. "My dad. I was…four. Maybe five."

When he didn't give any more information, she sat up enough to kiss the scar.

Tom smiled, hand circling her neck and pulling her toward him. He pressed his lips to hers, free hand skimming her body. His fingers pressed into her hip before traveling up her torso and gripping at her breast. His thumb brushed the fleshy mound there, and she sighed contentedly.

"What did you want to say?"

"I forgot to tell you –last night," he broke off to smirk, nipping at her collarbone before crudely murmuring, "before I fucked you into the bathroom floor, like the filthy fucking-"

"Tom," Hermione tried to push away from him.

"Right. Sorry, love. Forgot that you aren't into that without murder," he kissed her neck. "You're pregnant."

She leaned over his side of the bed and threw up.

XIX / 9 November 2014

Tom kicked the body, turning it over. "How'd the appointment go?"

She watched him squat over the body, poking at the wound in her shoulder with the nose of his gun. "I'm four months pregnant, actually. Not two. She said spotting was normal, so…that's why I thought it was two months."

He smiled at her. "We're having a baby."

"Two."

"What?"

She looked away from him, down at the body. "We're having twins, Tom."

"Fuck." He swallowed loudly. "Hermione, my love-"

"Tom, please. What did I tell you about calling me that?"

He rubbed the nose into a clean spot on the woman's shirt before getting up. "I called you my love, Hermione. It means your mine. It's not like Bella. She could be any and everyone's for all I know, or even care."

"I just don't want to think about her while I tell you that I'm having twins. That I'm carrying your twins."

"Okay," he rubbed his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket.

As he looked up at the ceiling, she watched the woman twitch, her fingers twisting around a nearby knife. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like for her to hurt Tom. He'd probably lose his final shreds of sanity.

She wouldn't get very far, though. Her legs were smashed nearly to pieces, and there was a hole in her neck, blood seeming to poor from it in waves. It was a wonder, really, that she was even still alive. But, Hermione understood. She'd wanted to kill him for months. This woman had barely known him an hour and she was sick of his shit.

Sighing, Hermione pulled her gun from where it hung at her torso, instantly taking off the safety and shooting the woman in the head.

"Jesus, Granger. What'd you do that for?"

She sighed. "She was going to slice your ankle, Tom." Rubbing her face, she walked over to a window and leaned on it, eyes following a passing car. "I thought you said no one comes out here."

"They don't." He walked over to her, arm circling her waist and fingers splaying over the small curve of her stomach protectively. They watched the car until it disappeared, Tom rubbing her skin gently. "Were you able to find out the sex?"

"You're going to have a son and a daughter."

"A daughter," he repeated, smiling against her ear. "If she's anything like you, she'll be perfect."

Her eyes fell closed, hand moving to rest over his. He twined his fingers through hers. "And he'll be strong, like you."

Tom laughed. "Thank god he'll have you, Hermione." He was quite for a few minutes, sobs of a dying man coming from a few rooms over. "You're barely even showing."

"My mother didn't start showing until she was about six months."

"Yeah, but it was just you in there."

"I ate my twin during the third trimester. They had to do an emergency C-Section."

"Fuck, Granger. You were always meant for this, then."

They both laughed.

"It's a good thing, really. That I'm not showing. Bella would have my head."

He kissed her jaw. "I'd never let her touch you."

And then, suddenly, his hold on her tightened, his face turning into her neck, seemingly for comfort. "We have to stop this. With…god, Hermione. A son I deal with. We could make do, you know? But a daughter."

She wiggled out of his hold and turned toward him, smiling as he cupped her jaw. He kissed her mouth softly, repeatedly, and she realized that he was nervous.

It was almost funny.

"I know," she told him, reaching up to hold his wrist as he kissed her forehead. "I was going to tell you that. We can't- I can't raise my children like this."

"Let's finish out the year, okay? Then, whatever you want, I'll do it. Everything is yours."

"You could really walk away from this, Tom? I know…I know how much it all means to you."

He pulled her closer to him, arms wrapping around her shoulders. "For you," he murmured. "I've always told you I can and would do anything for you, Hermione."

"I love you," she mouthed ,clutching at him almost desperately.

He smoothed his hand over her hair as though he'd heard her.

"But, Hermione," he pressed his thumbs to her jaw, lifting her head. The look in his eyes was cruel as he asked, "Can you?"

XX / 23 December 2014

Tom moaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes before lifting the sheet to see Hermione smiling at him. "Good morning, Hermione. Babies."

"Don't talk to them right now, Tom, geez. You'll ruin it."

He pressed up on his elbows. "Come. Kiss me."

"Kiss you or kiss it?"

He smiled, and –for once- she was fine. She smiled too, sitting up and sucking his tongue into her mouth before kissing down his throat.

"Lay down. Tom. Relax."

"Hermione," he murmured as she licked the head of his cock. "I love you."

Having no desire to say it back, or even acknowledge him, she blew him until he came, laying her head on his stomach when she was done, the cool handle of her Swiss knife still gripped in her hand.

"Maybe you shouldn't swallow anymore. It makes me uncomfortable to think that my own children are-"

"Oh, for fucks sake, Tom. Shut up."

He laughed, pulling the tie from the bottom of her braid and combing his fingers through her curls until they were splayed over he and the bed. "Granger. Don't think any less of me-"

"Admittedly, I probably couldn't."

He forced her to look at him, fingers gentle as they smoothed over the swell of her throat. "20 August."

"What?"

"The day I watched you choke a man to death."

Hermione laughed, uncertainty suddenly flooding her. "He was half dead anyway, Tom. It wasn't anything."

"Really? I hear it's your preferred style."

"Well. It was nothing when you saw it."

He smiled, continuing to graze her jaw and throat. "It's all I've thought about for a year, Hermione. "

She sighed, fingers drawing over a scar on his stomach. "How did you get this?"

"You gave it to me last Christmas."

Having absolutely no recollection of ever stabbing him outside of her dreams, she kissed it. "What do you want? To choke me?" It was nothing new.

"No. I want you to choke me."

She smiled, discreetly kicking her knife off the side of the bed.

"What was that?"

"My phone. Don't worry."

Hermione sat up, straddling his hips as her fingers grazed the swell of his throat. She noticed the desire hazing his eyes before she kissed his mouth, licking his lips and tongue wantonly as she pressed her thumb into the soft spot beneath his jaw. "How bad do you want it?" She asked him, voice low.

His eyes fell closed, cock hardening against her core as he breathed her name.

She decided not to push her luck. Instead, she pressed into his cock, slowly rubbing herself over it. He groaned, reaching for her hands and lacing their fingers together. Just as he shifted her hips and sunk down onto him, he said, "Hold on."

Hermione suddenly wished that she'd just stabbed him instead.

"I was thinking Mia. Or Athena."

"What?" She breathed, praying that he wasn't talking about names for their children. She wiggled her hips, helping him to sink deeper, smiling at him as he attempted to concentrate on whatever it was he was trying to say.

"I'm not really sure about boys names. I think I heard you mention Hugo once-"

She felt her heart stop, because she had mentioned Hugo. Once. They'd both been drunk in a small Italian town, and she'd humored him by helping to plan out their future together. He'd been sure they'd only have sons then, though he had no idea what he'd name any of them.

"My middle name is Marvolo. It has a bit of character to it, I think. Mia and Marvolo." He hummed, letting go of her hands and placing his on her hips. "Go slow," he told her, almost distractedly. "Probably Mia and Hugo."

He stroked her stomach, and she couldn't stop herself from falling forward, her cheek resting on his shoulder as she began to cry.

"Fuck…did I do something wrong, Hermione?"

"Besides trying to name our children while we have sex, Tom?"

He laughed.

"Nothing. You didn't do anything. I just…I love you, is all. I guess I hadn't realized quite how much until right now."

He kissed her cheek, wrapping his arms around her as he rocked his hips. She moaned softly, sitting up enough to kiss him properly.

"Relax," he told her, his pace picking up.

"I thought you wanted-"

"I need some –oh, fuck," he took ahold of her hips before turning them over. "I at least need some semblance of power, Hermione," he told her before sinking into her, his strokes long and deep.

He leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks before licking down her throat, nipping at her skin as he moved down her body, his pace picking up. She moaned throatily, her hands smoothing down his arms as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

"Tom," she breathed.

"Tell me about it, Hermione," he lifted back up, kissing her once. He pulled out, chuckling at her needy cry before pressing himself back into her. Tom continued with short, hard thrusts, swallowing her moans and groans of desire.

"I can't hear you," he teased, letting go of her hip. His fingers found her clit, and he rubbed circles into her sensitive flesh.

Hermione's fingers found their way into his hair, gripping and tugging at it just before she wrapped them around his neck.

His gasp of shock –as though he'd forgotten what he'd asked of her- was only covered up by the sounds of their combined desire, the fingers that had been bringing her to orgasm suddenly slipping briefly into her cunt, stretching her distractingly.

His mouth found hers, and he murmured, "I love you," between kisses.

She applied more pressure, careful to hit the right points of his neck, well aware of the fact that she only had one chance to get it right. His eyes opened at the last minute, wide and confused as they took her in. Hermione swore they remained like that for hours before he finally collapsed over her, his body deadweight atop over.

She struggled to get out from under him, unable to even look once she'd gotten off of the bed. Instead, she grabbed her phone and some clothes off the floor, and fled.

# # #

HR: Leon for lunch?

AM: Mind if I bring Nissim?

HR: Course not. x

AM: Be there in 30

# # #

Hermione smiled, watching Nissim as he shoveled quinoa into his mouth. "You want another bowl?"

"No," Abraxas said almost instantly. "He eats this shit at home. Have some fries, Nis," he pushed his cup of fries over, rubbing his face tiredly. "I need to tell you something, Granger. And, I really need you to promise not to think less of me."

She almost laughed. "Anything, Abraxas. You know that I'm here for you. I'm safe."

"Magdalene's pregnant again."

Hermione reached over for his hand. "What's the plan?" He'd told her before that if they had another child, he'd have to leave. She respected and supported the decision.

"Few more months here. Magda wants to have the baby here."

"How many months along is she?"

"Two. We found out a few days ago, but she's been saying it for weeks. I didn't…I didn't want to believe her."

"How come?"

"Honestly? It's stupid, really. But Tom's been my friend since we were children. I didn't want to just leave."

She rubbed at her face with her free hand, glancing at Nissim to see that he was working on some coloring. "6 months," she murmured, feeling his hand tighten around hers. "I'll be 6 months pregnant in two weeks."

His eyes widened, as Nissim stood up in his seat. "We're having a baby!" He announced. Abraxas stopped him from climbing over the table as they laughed at his excitement, his little fists pumping in the air. "I'm so tired being the baby."

"We should go to the park," she grabbed her purse off the seat next to her as Abraxas cleared the table.

"Are you really having a baby, Aunt Hermione?" Nissim asked, lifting his arms to be picked up.

"Yeah. I'm having two."

As Nissim rubbed her stomach fondly, Abraxas swore. "Girls?"

"A boy and a girl, actually."

"I'm so happy," Nissim told her, his arms squeezing her neck.

"Yeah. Chill, Nis. You're going to suffocate the babies."

He pulled away worriedly, reaching for his father and raving about babies until they got to the car, where he quickly fell asleep.

"How do you feel about it, Hermione?"

"I don't know."

"Well-"

She unzipped her jacket and pulled her sweater up. "Not too much happening right now, but," she rubbed the rounded mound, poking at her belly button.

"Magda thought you were pregnant, because of all the weird clothes you've been wearing, but I swore you weren't, Hermione."

"Please don't tell me you're unhappy with me."

He sighed. "Of course not. I'm happy for you. I'm scared as hell, but I'm happy for you. How is Riddle taking it?"

"He's obsessed. He can't believe he's going to have a daughter. Nervous as hell, too."

"Has he said anything about Bellatrix?"

"Do you really think she'd try to kill me?" She asked, pulling her sweater back down.

"No doubt, Granger. She isn't right in the head. You want to talk obsessed. Bella's picture is in the fucking dictionary."

She laughed, running her fingers through her hair as she sighed. "Don't…don't tell anyone. We've been setting up for our deaths since we found out it was twins."

Abraxas hummed. "I never thought Riddle would give it up."

"You know, I don't doubt that he could walk away. He'll just find some other way to play god. But, I…I'm really not sure about me, Brax. I haven't killed anyone in over a month and my hands are aching for it.

"I've seriously been plotting Tom's actual death."

He laughed.

"I tried to kill him today."

"Holy shit."

They didn't speak until they got to the park, Hermione encouraging Nissim to go play as they sat down on a bench.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just…it all just hit me, you know? And I was scared and alone, and he was just asleep. Calm and peaceful. I think what really set me over was the fact that I realized –I was brushing my fucking teeth, Abraxas, and it just hit me, like I forgot to buy eggs or something; I just realized that all this time, it's been me that's completely fucked up.

"Tom likes to play god. He likes to hear people beg for their life. But, he's kind. His work is clean and smooth and when they're dead, they're dead.

"It only changes if he's trying to entertain me. Me. And, I like the power. I like the pain. I live for those last few moments just before death hits them. And it's disgusting, really, that he's the one that's humane, because I always thought that I was the better one, between the two of us-"

"You are."

"No, I'm not! I…he likes death. It's plain, it's simple. To the point, you know? I like taking life. It's sick and twisted and that's not me. I…didn't want to believe that that was me. I blamed him. I grabbed my knife and I…

"I couldn't even kill him, though, Brax. I just…I just knocked him out. He should have woken up by now. I just…I don't know. I don't fucking know. He mentioned the babies and I got distracted. And then he'd asked if I'd choke him and I knew I could do it, you know? Of course, though, of course, he goes and says 'go slow.' Go slow! We've been fucking for how long now, and we've never…we've never done anything so fucking gentle in our lives. I actually thought I was going to die.

"But, I had him, Abraxas. I had my hands around his throat and- and I know how to kill someone that way. I like how personal and powerful it is to actually take someone's life, you know? But…it's like, he looked at me, and I heard him say I love you a thousand times, at least. And I've said it maybe four times since we've been together. So, the fact that he cares enough to remind me that he loves me, out of the billions of people he could have found worthwhile in this world, is just…

"I saw it. In his eyes. He knew what I was doing, he could have stopped me –he's so much stronger, so much bigger-, but he didn't even try to. He just trusted me, and loved me, and…he named our children, Abraxas.

"I…I don't know. I couldn't do it. With his life in my hands I realized that I couldn't live without him. And now I don't know what to do. Because this was my job, Brax. My fucking job was to kill him and I can't do it. They're going to kill me now. Me, and my babies, and him, too. And I caused that. I did this to myself."

Abraxas pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead as they sat on the park bench. She didn't have any more tears left, but she did sob against him, watching Nissim laugh with a smaller boy. He rubbed her back soothingly, whispering words of comfort until she sat up.

"Who are you working for?"

"Who do you think, Malfoy? Dumbledore. I'm working for Albus Dumbledore."

He nodded. "I've been thinking about leaving. Specially with this new baby on the way, I just," he shook his head. "I can't do it anymore, you know? I can't hide it from Tom. I live in constant fear that one of them will see me at the park and ruin my entire life."

"I wish our kids could grow up together," she told him.

"Me, too, Hermione."

"They could."

Hermione screamed, but managed to stop Abraxas from pulling his gun. They both turned to find Tom standing behind them, watching Nissim run full speed toward them.

"How'd you find us?" She asked.

"The lost phone app."

He only looked away Abraxas when the boy threw himself into Hermione, his small arms wrapping around her possessively. As she and his father sat in absolute fear, he peaked around her hair to smile.

"Hi Uncle Tommy."

Hermione closed her eyes, having never realized that Abraxas' children even knew who Tom was.

"What's up, little man?" From the sound of his voice, it seemed that he was shocked, too. "Would you mind playing for a few more minutes? So your father, Hermione, and I could talk."

He looked skeptical before deciding it was all right to climb off her lap, rejoining the little boy he'd been playing with.

Tom sat down next to Hermione, slouching tiredly against the bench. She chose not to look at him again. She'd seen the purple splotches her hands had left on his neck. Beside her, Abraxas still had his hand in his coat.

"He looks like Magda," Tom commented. "How come you never told me?"

"It never came up."

Tom hummed, arm drawing around her shoulders. "I would have let you walk away, you know?"

"Could I now?" Abraxas asked, looking over at his friend.

Tom kissed her temple. "Where would you go, Malfoy?"

"Probably Jamaica. I've always wanted to live in Jamaica."

"You'd fucking roast in Jamaica, mate," Tom laughed, his voice light and friendly. She closed her eyes, a small smile on her lips.

"I guess Canada is nice, too."

"I could see us in Canada," Tom mumbled.

Both she and Abraxas turned toward him, uncertain that they were dealing with Tom Riddle.

"You both just said you wished your kids could grow up together. We could all fucking move to Canada. I don't know about you, Abraxas, but I'd feel safer knowing someone in a foreign country has my back. We're leaving a risky business. There is no telling what could happen if we went off the map."

"You're right," Hermione murmured.

"We would leave everything behind, Riddle?"

"Yes," they answered at the same time. Tom laughed. "It's what Hermione wants. And I'm having a daughter, Brax. I can't…I can't continue like this."

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

At length, Hermione asked, "So, it's settled then?"

"Yeah." Abraxas grinned at her, tugging a hand through his hair.

"Great. I'll organize."

"Right," Abraxas got up. "I should get him home."

Hermione and Tom continued to sit at the park after he left, watching children play.

As the sun began to set, he asked, "Why'd you try to kill me?"

"Why'd you let me?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

She turned away form him, pulling her arm around her waist as she laid against his chest. "Can I tell you something? It's really important, Tom. I-"

He drew his fingers up her thigh, slipping under her jacket and sweater.

"We have to do something before we leave."

"Anything you want."

"We have to kill Dumbledore."

Tom sighed, kissing her neck. "No time like the present, my love."

XXI / 4 January 2015, continued

"He's what?" She asked, glass crunching beneath her boots as she crossed from the kitchen, back into the living room.

Hermione ignored her, reaching for another handful of chocolate chips. "Bella, I'm not sure what I should do. I'm…my husband is dead."

Bellatrix sat down next to her, hands slack at her side and shoulders slumped in disbelief. "How did he die?"

"I've just been sitting here for days, trying to figure out where to go from here. I mean, I'm here of all places. Instead of at our home."

"Granger! How. Did. He. Die?"

Hermione swallowed, pulling at her curls and tossing them over the back of the couch. She rubbed at her stomach, realizing that there was no longer anyway to hide her bump. Beside her, Bellatrix paid enough attention to notice it as well. "I'm pregnant, Belle. My husband's dead, I'm pregnant, and my only friends are assassins."

She reached over, hand resting over Hermione's far too gently. "You're carrying Tom's child."

"Mine, too. Only mine, now, since he's dead."

Instantly, Bellatrix's hand lifted. She turned toward her, knee pressing into her thigh softly. For a second time, she rested her hand on top of Hermione's briefly before confidently moving under her sweater, a quiet, almost pathetic cry forming in her throat.

She closed her eyes; Tom's laugh echoing in her head.

"Happy New Year, Bella," she murmured, pulling the other woman into a hug. For some reason, she kissed her forehead, the way Tom always did when he wanted one of them to calm down.

Bellatrix gasped, pulling away. She seemed paler then she'd been before. "Granger," she whined.

Hermione watched as the other woman's chest rose and fell with anticipation, thumbing her wedding ring. Smiling softly, she touched Bellatrix's face, feeling absolutely nothing as her eyes vulnerably fell closed.

"How did he die? Please." Something glistened near her thigh, hidden from Bellatrix by her curtain of thick, dark curls. But Hermione had known that this was coming. She'd wondered what the other woman would do, knowing that she was carrying Tom's child, but didn't think that it really mattered.

Briefly, her eyes lifted to were Tom stood on the balcony. Having already noticed the glass shard at her side, he had his gun aimed at Bellatrix. Looking back at the other woman, she smiled, lifting a hand and brushing her hair away from her face.

"Well. I killed him, of course."

XXII / 8 January 2015

"We're receiving confirmation that the bodies belong to Tom and Hermione Riddle."

Lestrange choked on his water as Abraxas reached for the remote, turning the television up as the showed a picture of the couple on their wedding day. "Shut the fuck up," Lestrange murmured, unable to comprehend what the anchor was saying.

"-daughter of the late Doctors James and Gemma Granger, who were found in their home in the Boltons of Chelsea in December 2013. Police are uncertain if the events are connected, though keeping it within the realm of possibilities. At the moment, all we know is that the couple had been working on a project with the late Doctor Albus Dumbledore, famed physicist here in England and abroad, who was found dead in his home in Holyhead, Wales earlier this week.

"The couple appeared to have purchased last minute tickets to Switzerland on Boxing Day, with what seemed to be plans for a New Year's holiday, but never checked in to their flight."

"Malfoy," Lestrange murmured, turning around to glance at the bedroom behind them. "Bellatrix heard from them yesterday."

"This has been on the news for a week, Atticus. There is no possible way she heard from them."

"I saw the text message, Brax. She sent a photo and everything. What the fuck are they doing? Why would they fake their death?"

The blond tugged a hand through his hair. "They were both in the photo?"

"No. Just Tom. Grange sent it."

Abraxas blinked, instantly knowing what photo his friend was talking about. "He was drinking hot chocolate? In a puffer vest? Ski goggles on his head?"

"Yeah…how-"

"Because Bella fucking took that photo when he took her to the Alps for her birthday, Lestrange. God, if you were on Facebook you'd know these things."

Lestrange fell silent, his face paling considerably. "She fucking killed Hermione," he murmured in disbelief. And then, more surely, though still relatively confused, he repeated, "She fucking killed Hermione."

"And as we wrap up tonight's broadcast, a new report has just come in, informing us that –Oh," the female newscast blinked, dropping her pen on the desktop. "Oh, god."

"Informing us that Mrs. Hermione Riddle was about six months pregnant with twins," the other anchor cut in surely. "Police are urging anyone with any information on this tragedy to come forward.

"To follow this story, log onto our website, and tune in again at 11 this evening for any updates. Thank you for watching, I'm Dennis Creevey."

"And I'm Ginny Potter. Good evening."

Lestrange fumbled with the remote before turning the television off, swallowing loudly in the sudden silence of the room. "She was pregnant," he let his head fall back on the chair. "Did you know?"

He picked as a sore on his hand, hesitant to say anything. At length, he said, "Yeah. She told me before she left. We had lunch at Leon."

Bellatrix hurried out of the bedroom, walking over to the kitchen and filling up the electric teakettle. "We're supposed to meet Greengrass in an hour," she reminded them as she headed back to the room to get dressed.

"What are we going to do?" Lestrange asked quietly.

"She doesn't deserve any kindness, Atticus. You can't fuck this up because you two shag-"

"Are you fucking kidding me? For all we know, she killed Tom, too. She killed their children, probably knowingly, considering all of the information we've gotten about the gruesome state of their bodies. I knew this would happen. I fucking warned him: if you're marrying Grange, get out of the country. Leave this shit behind. Because Bella won't accept it, especially not a child. She wouldn't fucking understand. I fucking," he kicked the table, breaking one of the wooden legs before getting up. "I liked her, you know? Fuck, Abraxas. What are we going to do?"

Abraxas stood up. "We're going to kill her, and then we're going to get the fuck out of dodge."

A/N: I may post an epilogue, but I haven't decided yet. Anyhow, thank you so much for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed this fic (:
See you all again soon.