AN: Here we go with another chapter and a significant interaction between Harry/Voldie. I've learned my lessons with making any promises towards a regular updating scheduling so all I will say is that I hope that this momentum keeps up.

JK still owns everything last time I checked.

Neither Harry nor Hermione felt like doing much that night. Not after the realization that the baby growing in Harry's belly somehow needed, no required, to be in constant contact with the Horcrux that Harry had previously transfigured into a simple, silver signet ring. One that he had made moments after learning that Voldemort, his parent's killer, had somehow managed to get him pregnant.

Harry had lost count of how many times one person had so spectacularly been able to muck up his life.

Even the small act of looking at the ring that adorned his left index finger as he sat next to the fireplace in the faux Gryffindor Common Room was threatening the limit of what he could adequately process.

Because, once again, this was something else that both him and Hermione would now have to take into account. Not only did they need to try and attempt to survive their imprisonment with the Dark Lord but they had to do so with one of his Horcruxes being out in broad daylight. And without their wands because those had been taken by the Snatchers.

But that didn't mean that they couldn't do anything.

"Here Harry," Hermione said, giving into an action that reason required was the best possible choice for the pair of them going foreword.

Harry looked up from where he had been staring at the reflection of the flames within the silver band to Hermione's outstretched palm that held a simple and very thin gold chain.

At once Harry knew where she was going with this, and not for the last time did his heart swell with having someone like her in his life.

"Hermione, I can't take this," Harry's sighed softly, his hands moving to engulf and then close her fingers around the chain.

"Ron gave this to you to wear for Bill and Fleur's wedding, to express… it just wouldn't be right…" Harry trailed off.

No matter his feelings over Ron's abandonment – in this moment his loyalty and gratitude towards Hermione was vastly more important.

"You must," Hermione said, ignoring Harry's previous actions at declining her gift and forcing the chain into Harry's palm. "It's the best chance, our best chance, of keeping…" she paused suddenly.

Her eyes grew wider, laced with fear.

She glanced around, the pupils in her eyes dilated wide because of who – or what – may have been listening in on their conversation.

Any tears that might have been threatening to spill over in painful remembrance of what Ron's gift had symbolized to her had been quickly pushed aside, and she wasn't alone with her thinking.

Harry quickly clamped his fingers down on the chain and drew it close to his body.

Several uneasy minutes passed where they both feared that someone had overheard their conversation. The seconds ticked by and when no indication that a response of any kind was coming, they both felt that they could finally begin breathing normally again.

As they slowly returned to what the new normal of their present situation was, Harry stealthily unclipped the gold chain and guided the thin metal strand through the transfigured silver ring that was once Hermione's bag, and, most importantly, contained one of the Dark Lord's Horcruxes.

He then drew the chain around his neck and fastened the gold clips together, letting the ring drop under his shirt where they hoped it would be hidden from Voldemort's notice.

Feeling unusually drained by the past few minutes and the entire day in general, a house elf was then summoned to provide a simple meal. They ate it in silence, and after taking turns in the bathroom they soon settled into bed.

Harry drifted off to sleep almost instantly – his tired body taking advantage of whatever opportunity it could to regain some of the strength the past few weeks had whittled away. Hermione, meanwhile, not having another resource-demanding entity growing inside her body propped herself against the backboard to read the latest book on male pregnancy.

But her mind just couldn't seem to focus and she remained on the same paragraph, reading it over and over again but getting nowhere. Eventually, she sighed in annoyance at her lack of concentration and closed the book. She kept holding it across her chest, however, not able to fully shake away that nagging feeling in her mind that she had overlooked something. Something important, something that she should be taking into account.

And so she fell into a fitful sleep, her mind never fully giving way to a restful sleep.

When she awoke the next morning she felt like she hadn't slept at all. But the sun was streaming in through the windows and that meant another opportunity to make progress on learning everything she would need to know about her friend's baby.

So she got up and performed her morning ablutions. Upon returning to the bedroom she saw that Harry had also gotten up and was now sitting in front of their usual breakfast spread.

"Good morning, Harry," she mustered in her usual, get-right-down-to-business-and-everything-will-be-all-right attitude.

"Morn'n Mione," Harry said back through a mouthful of scones.

She made a half-hearted attempt at rolling her eyes over the very horrible manners he had picked up over the years from a certain red head that she preferred not to think about at this moment.

Instead, her mild annoyance had been tempered by her satisfaction with Harry's increased appetite and renewed ability to keep his food down compared to his previous, month-long bout with morning sickness.

"How do you feel?" She asked, sitting down to join him and helping herself to a steaming cup of tea.

"Slowly starting to feel like my old self again."

He sat back in his chair and bit contently into another scone smeared with jam.

Hermione considered herself an expert in understanding speech from someone actively chewing through a mouthful of food, so when Harry kept talking her ears didn't miss a beat.

"Aside from finally having a stomach that can tolerate food again, life is just about the same that it's always been."

He swallowed and then took another bite.

"My life continues to be dictated by Voldemort in some way shape or form. Though, to be honest I doubt how fate will be able to top this one. I mean, how is next year going to top carrying his child? What, are we going to get married or something – that will surely throw a wrench into that stupid prophecy!" He said rather humurously.

Hermione thought he was taking this rather in stride – none of his famous temper was present or even bubbling beneath the surface. It was as if Harry was talking about something he had heard through the Hogwarts gossip mill and not something that was completely life altering and reality bending and dominated his life so spectacularly.

If anything, it was clear that Harry was tired of his life always being a struggle and had somehow accepted that fate seemed to not want to rid him of the Dark Lord for the foreseeable future.

"At least I don't think he isn't actively trying to kill me right now, so I think that is a positive development. At least for the next few months at any rate."

After he swallowed down the last of his food his head titled downward and his right hand traced the outlines of the tiniest little bump protruding from his stomach.

It was such a simple motion, but Hermione could see how utterly captivated and in love Harry was with whatever was growing inside of him.

A good five minutes of silence passed in this manner, with Harry looking longingly at his gut and Hermione thoughtfully chewing through her own breakfast.

"I just want he or she to be happy Hermione. To grow up in a way that I never did – to know love at all moments of its life. To feel wanted, accepted."

He turned to look at her then, his green eyes shinning as brightly as they ever had.

"If something happens to me here… if for some reason that I'm not able to make it out of here with my baby I need to know that it will be okay."

Upon seeing the implication of his statement register in Hermione's brown eyes he quickly added, "of course, I am going to do everything in my power to get out of here too but if for some reason I can't…"

Though, just thinking about not being there to watch his baby grow suddenly caused his throat to constrict and his eyes to become wet.

Was this how his mum had felt that night when she sacrificed herself so that he could survive Voldemort? Not that he would hesitate for a moment to protect his child, to give them every chance to succeed and flourish – but the mere thought of not being there for them, even if it was for their own survival was almost too much to process.

It didn't matter that it was a given that he would do anything for his child, to give them whatever shot of happiness to live their own lives that he could. But at the expense of never seeing how they grew, how they learned, how they loved – it was a sorrowful sensation that he was completely unfamiliar with.

To say that it was a complicated emotion was an understatement; though, he couldn't deny that in this moment he felt more connected to his mum than he ever had previously.

But Hermione understood, knew enough to know what her friend was asking.

"I promise, Harry," she whispered softly, reaching out to join his hands with hers.

"I'll do everything in my power to give this child," she looked downwards, though not able to see the bump through Harry's shirt but imagining it nonetheless, "a chance."

The tears finally spilled down Harry's face. But he tried to smile through those happy tears anyways.

"Thanks, Hermione. I guess this would make you the baby's Godmother then?"

For once Hermione was incapable of words, and leaned forward into Harry's arms to hug him tightly.

Who would have thought that one of the happiest moments of Hermione Granger's life – being asked to be the Godmother of the child of her best friend – would happen inside the home of Lord Voldemort.

Life certainly worked in mysterious ways. Life, it seemed, was just full of surprises this morning, for in the next moment a squeak from the other side of the room reminded them that they weren't entirely alone in this eery replica of Hogwarts.

"Pardons me, Harry and Hermiones."

The pair separated from the shock interruption of their beautiful and heartfelt moment, but their surprise soon wore off when they realized it was only Tizzy.

"Is there anything Tizzy can be getting master's guests?" No doubt the elf was aware it had interrupted something in the course of being the good and faithful house elf that she prided herself in being.

"No, you just startled us is all," Harry explained, sipping at the corner of his eyes.

Hermione, however, was suddenly aware of the fact that the elf had never appeared to them without being called. The implications of which her mind was furiously trying to understand, something that she didn't get to ponder because in the next instant the elf spoke again.

"Tizzy is being sent my Master Voldemort to invite the pairses of yous to dine with him tonight. Dinner will be served sharply at eight," Tizzy squeaked out.

Just like how their happiness had given way to shock and then acceptance upon the elf's arrival, their faces had now reversed course and were firmly settling on shock.

The elf left them several minutes later when both Hermione and Harry had recovered enough to verbally accept the Dark Lord's dinner plans.

But that did not mean that they were okay with it. Far from it, in fact, and no matter how much they spent the day trying to distract themselves by reading through their planned pregnancy materials they just couldn't.

Their brains just couldn't process the apparent fact that the Dark Lord - who had been trying to kill Harry since before he was born had just formally – and by his standards politely – invited them to a common social interaction usually shared by acquaintances, friends, and family members.

It was one thing to live in his house and never see the man – because out of sight was truly out of mind. It was similar to know that Harry was carrying the man's child because that child would not be raised by Voldemort if Harry could help it and so out of sight and out of mind.

However, it was an entirely different thing altogether to have a formalized date and time in which they were going to be in the Dark Lord's presence. Not only did that negate the very good effort in the denial of the above items with their out of sight philosophy, but that was an entirely different change of pace than what Harry was used to.

Because previously, his interactions with the Dark Lord had been random and always involved the man trying to kill him through various cockamamie schemes. Now though, he had to sit through an entire day knowing that it would end in the man's presence – over dinner no less.

Should he look to bring a weapon? Should they try to escape? Well, they had been trying but those bracelets were stubborn and secured tightly to their wrists by magic. His magic. And they didn't even have their wands.

Needless to say, the entire day was a complete wash and by the time eight o'clock rolled around their nerves were well and truly shot.

Both Hermione and Harry stood outside the doors to the Great Hall, having been led there by Tizzy. This was it; beyond those doors was the Dark Lord.

If it hadn't been for Tizzy, the two Gryffindors may never have summoned their house's bravery and courage to actually open and then go through the door. But the elf was there and Tizzy was a good house elf. Her master had said that dinner would be served at eight o'clock sharp and she would not disobey him.

"Master Voldemort is being right through heres," the elf squeaked, practically pushing them into the Great Hall.

The sight of the Dark Lord caused the pair to swallow their thumping hearts back into their chest. The buildup to this moment, having spent the entire day festering and growing with increasing dread and worry inside their minds, did not prepare them for this.

It was worse.

They had expected to have been greeted by the ominous and evil-looking snake face. But that visage was no where to be seen.

Instead, as Harry and Hermione walked towards the lone table – about a quarter of the length of the hall – they were confronted by an enigma.

"Tizzy is bringing Master's guests as ordered," the elf presented the pair.

The suddenly normal-looking and indeed even attractive Dark Lord nodded to the elf and then turned his attention towards the pair, quite enjoying the gaped expressions on their faces.

"Sit," he commanded in a rich, warm voice that sounded nothing like the last time he had spoken to them.

Without a second thought, the pair took their seats across from each other but on the opposite end of the table from where the Dark Lord was holding court in for what all intents and purposes looked to be his throne.

One look to the elf was all Tizzy needed to begin dinner service; however, neither Harry nor Hermione had yet come to terms with a Dark Lord that looked like that.

Dark brown hair sat atop a head that was perfectly aristocratic with well-defined features and a strong jaw line. For Harry, it was exactly how he imagined a twenty-five year old Tom Riddle to look like based on what he remembered of the man's Horcrux within the Diary. To say that the Dark Lord was handsome, by any definition of the term, was an understatement.

It just didn't do the man justice.

The change was so drastic, in Harry's mind, that he couldn't help but comment on it.

Of course, he really didn't know what else to say the man who killed his parents and had somehow gotten him pregnant.

"Well, you look different," he blurted out. But it was what he said next that was truly spectacular.

"You have a nose again."

Which had the immediate effect of causing Hermione to stop breathing as she couldn't believe that her friend had done something so characteristically Harry as to state-the-obvious to a very bad, no-good, Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord, however, was unaffected by the comment, at least as he appeared to them.

He simply leaned back into his chair and took a gratifying sip of a very bold and full-bodied, red wine.

"Your observational skills are second to none, Potter. If you must know, this is how I truly look."

It was then that Harry's mind finally caught up to the present and he realized what he had said, and then his face took on a distinct reddish tinge.

Of course, not to be outdone, Hermione's analytical mind just couldn't resist asking a follow-up question.

For one, the gears in her mind were now working overtime, and since the Dark Lord seemed not to be in a killing or curse-happy mood she figured why not. In for a penny in for a pound was what her mother always said.

"Excuse me, sir – Lord V-Voldemort…" she stuttered not knowing how to address him.

She continued when the man's facial expression remained unchanged.

"If that is how you truly look then how come the paternity spell showed your other…" less human face was what she wanted to say but instead of asking for an early death she simply trailed off.

The Dark Lord eyed her carefully. Indeed, she was a very bright witch.

"And thus brings us to why I have summoned you this evening. For after getting over the shock that you," he gave a pointed look at the boy, "were carrying my heir, I too wondered about that very same thing."

If one had thought that the Dark Lord's now beautiful face was incapable of striking the same fear into someone's heart that Voldemort could then they were quickly set straight for in the next instance the man's lips set into a thin line and specks of molten crimson fluttered in his eyes.

"Indeed, that particular spell reveals what the parents looked like at the exact moment that the child was conceived, and I only regained my ability to transform back into my original form again when I was reborn in the graveyard. Thank you for that by the way, Harry; I had sacrificed that ability to go back and forth between my Voldemort persona with a certain ritual… but no matter I found a loophole after all."

Both Harry and Hermione inched backwards into their chair in response to the devilish grin that snaked its way onto the man's beautiful face. It was both mesmerizing and terrifying.

"However, there is only one thing I can think of that led to this current predicament."

"Tell me," Voldemort continued as Tizzy brought in the first course, "how long have you known about my Horcruxes?"

Hermione's squeak and the widening of Harry's eyes belied their half-hearted attempt at denial.

"What… we don't… I mean what are Horcruxes?" Harry tried lamely.

"Do not lie to Lord Voldemort!" the Dark Lord threatened with the added oppressive weight of his magic flitting about the room around them.

"I know that you know … because how else would this whole pregnancy thing have happened otherwise? Believe me, I would quite remember had I bedded the Boy Who Lived in the last few months."

Now, however, Harry and Hermione didn't need to feign their surprise.

Harry's eyes continued to widen but Hermione's face took on a very thoughtful expression. She so loved problems.

The tension in the room was momentarily broken by the elf's subsequent announcement.

"French Onion soup is being had for the first course," Tizzy squeaked, committed to being the most faithful servant to her master and guests.

But the tension came right back when the elf popped away, leaving an eerie silence.

"Shall I explain how such a thing is possible or is this something that you already know or Merlin-forbid, planned?" The Dark Lord's icy tone chilled the room even further.

Hermione was convinced that she and Harry were done for and she had absolutely no appetite whatsoever. From where she sat she could see Harry's arms encircling his stomach in a protective manner, and she spoke for the pair of them when she nodded to Voldemort.

"We … don't know … how this happened…" her timid voice responded.

An unreadable expression quickly passed over the Dark Lord's features.

"I'll assume that you are both intimately familiar then with the concept of a Horcrux – that will make all of this easier to explain and work through."

There was a cold fury in his voice and Hermione saw no other path forward than to simply nod her head.

"Would I also be correct in thinking that it was that old meddling fool, Dumbledore, that clued you into their existence?"

Hermione again tipped her head forward in a silent acknowledgement.

"That's what I thought – I just how knew the man had guessed about the incident with the Chamber of Secrets. Believe me, Lucius was severely punished to within an inch of his life for daring to cast something so precious of mine so recklessly into the public sphere…"

The soup sat untouched in front of the former Gryffindors; however, the Dark Lord focused on his bowl while his eyes cooled. No one spoke another word until the Dark Lord had swallowed the last remaining drop of his first course; an otherwise normal action that somehow seemed to make their situation all that more ominous.

His spoon was dropped into the empty bowl, and his smoldering eyes looked up upon the pair.

"Eat," he instructed, demonstrating just with a glance how much power he truly wielded – magical or not.

Immediately, the pair hastily started to make their way through their, and by this time, lukewarm soup under the weight of the Dark Lord's Stare.

"If you had thought that I had wanted you dead for knowing my most guarded secret, you would have already been dealt with. But, ever since I returned to a body I have been a bit more cautious in acting too soon. For instance, why should I worry that you know about my secret to immortality when you are prevented from leaving? In my youth I may have acted more impetuously but age and circumstance," again, he gave a hard stare at the raven-haired wizard, "has given me a great deal of perspective."

At this point Harry was just amazed that he was able to get a majority of the broth into his mouth without it spilling down his shirt. That was how bad his bottom lip wanted to quiver.

For he had never imagined that having a conversation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could be so civil.

"But I digress, let's return to the topic at hand."

The look in his burgundy eyes was almost predatory.

"When I first learned about the destruction of my diary Horcrux I was quite enraged. And with good reason, for not only did my enemy discover my secret that tethered me to this plane of existence, but that fragment of soul is now forever lost to me."

Harry swallowed the thick lump forming in his throat.

"Yes, Harry, I know it was you. Though, from where I sit now, even I can concede that we have probably evened things out – I took your parents, your childhood and you killed a part of my soul."

Harry focused all of his might on staring forward, not trusting his body to openly disagree with the Dark Lord's view that they were in any way square with what had happened in the past.

"No matter," the Dark Lord moved on, "I was young when I made my first one – very young. I had a purpose, an intent when I killed that insufferable crying girl – and I didn't protect that one like I protected the others I had made."

"And by the time I had learned about its destruction several years had already passed… so what could I do?"

His question lingered in the air as he took another pause to finish his wine. The empty glass then hit the table and the elf appeared once more. A quick snap of her fingers found their bowls removed and a second measure of wine poured into Voldemort's crystal chalice.

"For our main course," the elf presented as if this was perfectly normal dinner conversation and ambience, "is a mushroom risotto with shaved fennel and roasted asparagus accompanied by seared salmon."

If Hermione had been anywhere else, her mouth would have watered when the delectable aroma hit her nose. Risotto was one of her mother's specialties and the look and smell of what had been placed before her looked to be even better than what she had remembered her mother able to prepare.

But she was in the presence of the Dark Lord, who not only knew they they were aware of his Horcruxes, but that she honestly didn't know whether or not tonight would be her last. She just couldn't trust anything at this point.

When the elf departed, Voldemort took a small mouthful, and then washed it down with another sip from his glass. The stain on his lips was now the same color of his eyes, Harry thought before quickly shaking his head of that thought, wondering where it had come from and why he had been staring at the man's mouth.

"However, last year was when I knew without a doubt that Dumbledore had discovered my secret. I have eyes everywhere and the damage to his hand could only have been caused by one curse – something of my own design."

A wicked and satisfied gleam of molten crimson passed through his eyes, perfectly showcasing the beauty that his dark red eyes possessed.

"Though it pains me to have lost another part of my soul, I do consider the death of Albus Dumbledore to be a fair exchange for it. Of course, upon learning that he was onto my secret, I took the necessary action to reclaim my other Horcruxes and place them here."

Voldemort took another bite of his dinner, this time forgoing the wine to delicately cut the asparagus into quarters before pairing one with a small portion of salmon.

When he swallowed, the Dark Lord looked up and gazed upon their silent and uneasy faces. He so relished the look of dread and fear that he was able to cause.

"Except, there was one Horcrux that I could not retrieve. A Horcrux that I had hidden before either of you were even conceived. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it was missing."

Now it was Hermione's turn to swallow back the bile rising in her throat; she knew where this was headed – but she was also confused.

"Not that I am a betting man – I find no pleasure in gambling on a mere probability – but given what I know I am fairly inclined to acknowledge that perhaps you had come across a small, silver locket. Harry, by any chance did you wear such a thing around your neck?"

Voldemort was feeling very in control, having likely deduced how the boy had ended up pregnant with his, or rather one of his soul fragment's spawn.

"Though it isn't very common, sometimes, long term contact with a Horcrux can lead to possession – like what happened with my diary. And though it is even rarer, it could, in theory I suppose, lead to pregnancy."

Harry's eyes shot up. He had both heard and understood what the Dark Lord had said but that still didn't make any sense. The Horcrux transfigured within his ring still held the fragment of the man's soul. He was sure of it, he could feel it, even now, pulsating against his chest and providing an unexpected comfort to his baby.

Unless… that was why he needed to be close to the Horcrux, for his baby… because what the man had said was true. That Slytherin's Locket had gotten him pregnant.

But then the Dark Lord said, "and to think, of all the known ways to destroy a Horcrux, who would have guessed that unwanted pregnancy would be one."

'Well shit,' Harry thought, there went that idea.

From the look in Hermione's eyes, apparently she had come to the same conclusion.

"It destroys the Horcrux?" Hermione spoke up, not daring to look at the Dark Lord directly.

"Completely, and utterly, I would hazard a guess. The soul merges with a part of the person it is in contact with and forms a fetus, leading us to…" his glance passed over to Harry.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Hermione's problem-solving mind giving her confidence to speak a little louder, "that Horcrux is fine."

Only, this wasn't some difficult problem to be solved during class. This was very much a matter of life and death and she had slipped up. She could have kicked herself and even as Harry's pained and disbelieving green orbs rose to meet hers she could feel the heat of the Dark's Lord gaze on her skin.

"Show me the Locket!" Voldemort commanded, the temperature in the room beginning to plummet.

"Please," came Harry's voice at once.

"Don't take it," he pleaded while opening up his shirt to show the transfigured ring and briefly explaining how it had come to be before the Snatchers took them to Malfoy Manor.

"The baby needs it!" Harry then rose defiantly in his chair to face the Dark Lord who had also gotten up from his chair and had begun to make his way towards him.

The man's large but delicate hands fingered the ring while Harry continued his plea by clamping his hands down firmly around the Dark Lord's to hold them in place.

However, his continued plea died on his lips from the moment that his skin came into contact with the father of his child. A feeling, so much like the electric tingle and comfort that the Horcrux provided – but amplified a thousand fold – shot through his system. Judging by the startled expression of the Dark Lord he too had felt the same. It was only Lord Voldemort's decades of experience with holding himself together during the myriad dark rituals that he had enacted allowed his legs to keep from buckling.

Unfortunately, Harry, whose body was only just recovering didn't have the strength to remain upright unsupported and his knees gave way.

Hermione could only watch with an open mouth as her friend was caught and then steadied by their captor, one very handsome and evil Dark Lord.

They were all frozen for countless seconds – Hermione because she couldn't believe what she was witnessing, while the pair across from her were still adjusting to the unnatural but familiar and powerful sensation coursing through their veins.

It was Harry, however, who in thinking about his baby, was the first one to find his voice.

"Please, Voldemort, let me have this, for the baby. Because however the baby became to be… the baby needs it, requires it."

Harry's verdant eyes were shinning brightly, desperately pleading with the human before him whose darkened expression held the fate of his child.

Normally, the Dark Lord would not have tolerated anyone to survive who knew what his Horcruxes were, not to mention carrying it around on their person.

However, a few very important things were staying his hand. For one, he had seen what had happened the previous day when Harry had fallen and now understood that what the boy had said about the baby needing to be in contact with the Horcrux was true.

Second was the fact that he had already decided that his child would be born. Because, if he were being honest with himself, he wasn't completely confident that the child was not a Horcrux given what he knew about Soul Magic. Though, that was something he would have to spend much more time thinking about since if that was the case then the child would also tie Harry Potter of all people to this world as well.

However, it was the third, and most important item that really prevented him from reacting prematurely.

If the Locket was still intact, and he could feel the faint hum of his soul despite his contact with the Boy Who Loved, he was now at a complete loss with how the boy had gotten pregnant. Every other Horcrux of his had been accounted for.

But then he remembered the girl and the way that her eyes had been seemingly on the verge of calculating something before she had realized her error with mentioning that the Locket was intact, and his head snapped in her direction.

"You!" He nearly caused Hermione to go into cardiac arrest with both the suddenness and the force of his command.

"You know something – I saw that look in your eyes."

The Dark Lord released his hold over Harry, acting for the briefest of moments like he regretted the loss of skin-to-skin contact, but nonetheless willing his imposing figure to march around the table to stand before the girl.

Harry used the table to steady himself and watched as his friend was grabbed roughly by the shoulders, as her face was brought to within inches of Voldemort's.

The Dark Lord's mental assault upon the girl was quick and thorough, he didn't have the time to cause the pain or torture that he preferred to leave behind.

In a matter of moments though he had seen enough, piecing together the clues far quicker than she would have been able to.

He withdrew from her mind and released her, leaving her to catch her breath and calm her heart rate from the ordeal of being within inches of a possible death.

The Dark Lord then walked up to the boy and turned Harry's face upwards, this time ignoring the delicious sensation that began to pulse through his body, trickling down his spine to pool deep within his gut.

Flaring, crimson eyes, now shed completely of any reddish brown examined the dull scar that everyone associated with the Boy Who Lived and that night.

Then the Dark Lord closed his eyes and concentrated on using whatever unnaturalness could connect their minds. This time Voldemort held nothing back in his attempted assault; he needed to be sure.

And when he could not penetrate the mind of Harry Potter using that link he knew he had found his answer.

His eyes then opened wide but he continued holding onto the boy's head. His burning eyes meeting the most beautiful green he had ever seen.

Shaking himself of that thought and overwhelmed by their connection and confounding circumstances he released Harry once more. He watched as the boy fell back, this time using a chair to steady himself before he turned on his heels and made for the door.

"Tizzy!" He barked stopping at the door.

The elf popped beside him at once.

"Make sure they continue to have everything they need."

He didn't even stay to watch the elf bow low, before walking out of the room.

The elf then scurried over to the table, using her elf magic to reheat and reset the table while Harry exhaled several breaths that he did not know how long he had been holding.

He had no idea what had just happened, and he looked to Hermione to see if she could add anything.

And she could. Because while the Dark Lord had been testing the connection that allowed their minds to peak into the other's, Hermione had also put the pieces together – albeit slower than the Dark Lord had.

"You had an unexpected Horcrux inside you, Harry. It was in your scar."

Stunned, Harry gingerly reached up and ran his hand across the familiar pattern that he had all but forgotten about these past few months. It was easy now to see the truth of it. In fact, it explained so much. So much about his past that he needed to sit down as the realization fully hit him.

He didn't hear Hermione walk over to him but soon he felt her arms around him, holding him tightly.

His mind was focusing on too much to care about his surroundings. After all, now he knew that he had become pregnant by having been an unknown Horcrux for the majority of his life. One of his questions had finally been answered but now he had others. Like what had happened when the Dark Lord had touched him and, most importantly, why his parent's killer had made it a point to instruct the elf to continue to care for him and his baby?

I realize there was a lot of information in this and there is still more to come – but thought it was a good place to stop. How was it?