A Crossing of Two Worlds
Summary: I've seen lots of fics with Hermione marrying Snape or Draco but none with her marrying Voldemort - so here it is - HGLV - What will Harry think? Rating just for safety net...
Take Two...
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Author's Note:
Alright, fellow readers/reviewers...the Administrator people at removed my story – they said that the rating (PG-13) was wrong. Stupid reason really – the really annoying thing is when I updated the last chapter, I thought it should be R, and was seriously considering changing it, but changed my mind at the last second. Oh well, now I know...still, it sucks – no record of my story, and I don't have most of it on my hard-drive. Thank God my friend ArthurTwoSheds had copied my whole story onto her hard drive, and sent it to me on email...so anyway, here it goes.
To my returning reviewers/readers who thought I had gone nuts and deleted my story, don't worry...and thanks for your patience – a new chapter shall be out sometime next week...
--------------------------------------------
It was the summer after Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts; she, Ron, and Harry, along with all the others in their grade, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, had finally passed their seventh and final year and were now half- way into a beautiful summer.
The famous Gryffindor trio kept in touch over the summer, resolved not to loose their friendships. Ron stayed with his family, Hermione, hers, and Harry was locked up in Grimmauld place, the Last House of Black, as Hermione liked to think of it. They met occasionally; last time over Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks Ron had excitedly told his two friends how he had himself a girlfriend; Fleur Declour's little sister; they had run into each other when she came into London with her family on vacation to celebrate her sister's graduation.
It was then that Hermione realized what a non-existant love-life she had, if it could be called that. She had seen no one since the short-lived episode with Krum, famous Quidditch player. She had always seen Ron as a potential, but he had a girl now. Lying in bed awake late one-night, a familiar face with glasses hiding beautiful green eyes, a scar, marking how strong he was in his many duels against Voldemort (she shuddered thinking of the vile man...), and black unruly hair...Hermione's eyes snapped open. Only now did she realize how alone Harry was in this world; he needed someone, just as she did...
During lunch, a fortnight from her dawning on how she felt about Harry, she heard a loud /pop/ and went to see what it was. Albus Dumbledore's head was in the fire, his long white hair and beard intermingling with the flames...
She knew Albus well from Hogwarts; she had always respected him, seen him as a brilliant wise wizard who always held so many lives in his hands, yet with so much on his platter he was able to handle it efficiently; hardly a thing escaped that man.
Being a muggle-born well-read girl, back when she was going to muggle kindergarten she read a picture book once about wizards; thinking back to that, the picture looked just like Dumbledore did...old man with long white beard...Hermione wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore one day went off to fight dragons wielding a staff, much like in her picture book.
But that was then; now, Dumbledore was waiting for her; it seemed urgent, judging on the fact that he flooed to her house instead of sending an owl.
Hermione rushed over; Dumbledore looked grave.
"Hermione – I am most sorry about this, but you must floo to Hogwarts, my office – there is something important I have to tell you. It cannot wait."
He withdrew his head from the fire, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. She cleaned the kitchen with a swipe of her wand, took the last half of her bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwich and coffee with her, and flooed to Dumbledore's office. She landed sideways, most ungracefully by Dumbledore's fireplace, next to Fawkes on his golden stand; he squawked loudly at the intruder.
Hermione got up and walked into the main part of Dumbledore's office, adjusting her sky-blue no-sleever and fixing her shorts; she hated traveling by Floo almost as much as Harry. Dumbledore gestured to the seat by his desk, eyes twinkling behind the spectacles.
"Lemon drop?"
Hermione shook her head, and put her coffee on the ground, allowing her two hands to finish her sandwich. Dumbledore jumped right into business.
"Hermione, I am sure you are aware of the new Marriage law passed by the Ministry?"
Hermione swallowed. Yes, she remembered. She remembered reading the Daily Prophet; Fudge and his minions had finally, idiots that they are, recognized inbreeding in pureblood families for what it was; since all pureblood families are related, and certain people insist on marrying only purebloods, they were all as inbred as the muggle royal families. It didn't surprise her a bit; she had expected something like this. It was still kind of funny though, that people like Sirius and Snape or Voldemort and Harry, or the Malfoys and Weasleys were all related to each other – honestly, how could you go around trying to kill your cousin? Then again, that's just what Ms. Bellatrix Lestrange did; Harry had never gotten over Sirius' death.
And now Fudge had in his infinite wisdom (of which there isn't any), decreed that any single pureblood seeking to marry had the right to call upon an unmarried Muggle-born. Which meant if any pureblood asked for her hand in marriage, Hermione would have to accept. Unless she had more than one suitor; than she'd be allowed to choose. All of this to widen the gene pool among wizards because of stuck-up idiots (certain Slytherins and Ministry officials come to mind...) who insisted they were above anyone remotely muggle, although wizards evolved from muggles in the first place – so somewhere along the line they all came from muggles. It was sickening.
Hermione looked up at Dumbledore, fearing his next words; anything along the lines of the new Marriage law was bad news, considering she was muggle- born herself. Dumbledore cleared his throat. His eyes twinkled behind the spectacles.
"Hermione, I have received word that three men request your hand in marriage."
Hermione's jaw dropped; she hadn't expected this; one maybe, but not /three/....who would want to marry her, the bushy-haired, know-it-all Gryffindor with no love life?
"Who," Hermione asked nervously; her hands were shaking.
"Well, I think I better explain something first...Hermione, exactly seventy- two years ago, three young expectant mothers were friends...Anna, Lauren, and Rose, I believe they went by. They had a discussion one night; unlike our dear minister Fudge, they saw the beginnings of inbreeding in pureblood families; Anna's husband for instance, was her second-cousin. They had been taught as children to marry only pureblooded wizards, so they do not dirty the magical blood-line held sacred for so many generations. And it would hold true for many more, if nothing was done.
In old traditional families, someone a generation above you can ask you to do something, and you do it not only out of respect, but because of the blood-tie; you cannot refuse. The three women's talk turned to their husbands; pureblooded Slytherins involved in the dark arts; they didn't want their future children falling into that life. They agreed to request one of their future generations to marry someone completely different from them, to somehow bring the family to the side of light. The question was which generation. Watching the stars, Lauren saw a comet fly by and pointed out the falling star; and it was to be that when the comet flew by our planet again, letters containing their requests would be sent to their descendants, if they had any."
He paused. Hermione was following what he said fearfully, unsure of what was coming. All she knew was it couldn't be good.
"That comet flew by two nights ago, and the letters arrived to Lauren's, Anna's, and Rose's descendants. Needless to say, the three men I speak of were quite shocked to receive such letters; it was only too obvious what had to be done. Each one of them had to marry their complete opposite; which meant a Gryffindor muggle-born witch. And all three were smart enough to know that for such a marriage to work, it couldn't just be any witch; it had to be one whose intelligence level matched their own; neither were willing to marry a dim-witted woman, but someone whose head wasn't empty of knowledge.
All three independently of each other, came to the conclusion that this meant marrying, well, you. I am deeply sorry about this, Hermione, but I'll allow you three months to chose your husband; by then you must be his fiancé."
Hermione felt a huge weight on her shoulders. Hate, anger, fear, and anxiety weighing her down; it was all so confusing, yet she had to know...
'And who can I choose from?' Hermione wondered. Dumbledore dissapparated from the castle holding onto Fawkes tail as he burst into flame.
Someone banged on the door, and it slammed against the wall and bounced off slightly. Hermione whirled around and stared wordlessly at the men before her.
A youth her age, with platinum blonde hair, and cold steel gray eyes...Draco Malfoy.
A man a few years younger than her father, with long greasy black hair, and cold back eyes...Severus Snape.
A man around the age of her grandfather, with no hair, just cold red eyes...Lord Voldemort.
All tall, pale, evil, British, pureblooded, stuck-up, Slytherin, single wizards...
She blinked once, twice; this couldn't be happening...how...but she knew how it came to be...Dumbledore just told her.
She raised a hand delicately to right over her heart; she felt faint...
But luck was not with her; she didn't pass out.
In its place, visions came to mind of what it would be like to marry either of them. Never had she thought something like this...she wanted to marry Harry, if anyone, and now that couldn't happen.
This had to be a dream, it just had to be...so much like a reality TV show... she wanted to laugh, but she knew none of the three would be involved in a joke...neither had a sense of humor, unless you counted the twisted sarcasm and glee when something went wrong.
So real...
Hermione was in a state of shock; she blinked several times in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing but no sound came out. She stared at the Prince of Slytherin, the Greasy Git, and Moldyshorts, as Ron christened them...
Her eyes went out of focus as she envisioned being the wife to either....
Her myriad of emotions - Anger, hatred, despair, amusement, mischief, and finally, acceptance – were revealed in her eyes...
She felt like she wanted to die...how would Harry feel? Ron? Remus? The Weasleys? Her parents? The rest of the wizarding world?...she could see herself being cast aside as a turncoat from the side of Light, seen as a bitch, a whore, a puppy to her master by the side of Dark, but never quite finding a place...
She was determined not to break down...no, she couldn't break down here, not now...the one thing she couldn't do was show weakness...
Her three evil Slytherin pureblood suitors (it felt so strange to call the Malfoy, Professor, and Dark Lord she had known all her life that...) as they turned towards her, advancing towards her...she felt very small being only 5'4", while they were about 6'3" to 6'7"...
She looked each of them in the eye, craning her neck slightly to do so.
She wanted to cry out her fears but she couldn't here, no...
She wanted to pound something senseless but she couldn't do that either...
She wanted comfort but she knew none would be given...
Hermione smiled politely in confusion, although it wasn't returned; she hadn't expected that. It surprised her that Dumbledore had fled, but there were other more pressing matters at hand. The silence was heavy with tension; for once Draco, Hermione, Snape, and Voldemort had nothing to say. Hermione struggled for a conversation topic.
"Husband...Hell – I mean, I had always thought of marrying Harry ..."
Summary: I've seen lots of fics with Hermione marrying Snape or Draco but none with her marrying Voldemort - so here it is - HGLV - What will Harry think? Rating just for safety net...
Take Two...
-------------------------------------------
Author's Note:
Alright, fellow readers/reviewers...the Administrator people at removed my story – they said that the rating (PG-13) was wrong. Stupid reason really – the really annoying thing is when I updated the last chapter, I thought it should be R, and was seriously considering changing it, but changed my mind at the last second. Oh well, now I know...still, it sucks – no record of my story, and I don't have most of it on my hard-drive. Thank God my friend ArthurTwoSheds had copied my whole story onto her hard drive, and sent it to me on email...so anyway, here it goes.
To my returning reviewers/readers who thought I had gone nuts and deleted my story, don't worry...and thanks for your patience – a new chapter shall be out sometime next week...
--------------------------------------------
It was the summer after Hermione had graduated from Hogwarts; she, Ron, and Harry, along with all the others in their grade, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, had finally passed their seventh and final year and were now half- way into a beautiful summer.
The famous Gryffindor trio kept in touch over the summer, resolved not to loose their friendships. Ron stayed with his family, Hermione, hers, and Harry was locked up in Grimmauld place, the Last House of Black, as Hermione liked to think of it. They met occasionally; last time over Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks Ron had excitedly told his two friends how he had himself a girlfriend; Fleur Declour's little sister; they had run into each other when she came into London with her family on vacation to celebrate her sister's graduation.
It was then that Hermione realized what a non-existant love-life she had, if it could be called that. She had seen no one since the short-lived episode with Krum, famous Quidditch player. She had always seen Ron as a potential, but he had a girl now. Lying in bed awake late one-night, a familiar face with glasses hiding beautiful green eyes, a scar, marking how strong he was in his many duels against Voldemort (she shuddered thinking of the vile man...), and black unruly hair...Hermione's eyes snapped open. Only now did she realize how alone Harry was in this world; he needed someone, just as she did...
During lunch, a fortnight from her dawning on how she felt about Harry, she heard a loud /pop/ and went to see what it was. Albus Dumbledore's head was in the fire, his long white hair and beard intermingling with the flames...
She knew Albus well from Hogwarts; she had always respected him, seen him as a brilliant wise wizard who always held so many lives in his hands, yet with so much on his platter he was able to handle it efficiently; hardly a thing escaped that man.
Being a muggle-born well-read girl, back when she was going to muggle kindergarten she read a picture book once about wizards; thinking back to that, the picture looked just like Dumbledore did...old man with long white beard...Hermione wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore one day went off to fight dragons wielding a staff, much like in her picture book.
But that was then; now, Dumbledore was waiting for her; it seemed urgent, judging on the fact that he flooed to her house instead of sending an owl.
Hermione rushed over; Dumbledore looked grave.
"Hermione – I am most sorry about this, but you must floo to Hogwarts, my office – there is something important I have to tell you. It cannot wait."
He withdrew his head from the fire, leaving Hermione to her thoughts. She cleaned the kitchen with a swipe of her wand, took the last half of her bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwich and coffee with her, and flooed to Dumbledore's office. She landed sideways, most ungracefully by Dumbledore's fireplace, next to Fawkes on his golden stand; he squawked loudly at the intruder.
Hermione got up and walked into the main part of Dumbledore's office, adjusting her sky-blue no-sleever and fixing her shorts; she hated traveling by Floo almost as much as Harry. Dumbledore gestured to the seat by his desk, eyes twinkling behind the spectacles.
"Lemon drop?"
Hermione shook her head, and put her coffee on the ground, allowing her two hands to finish her sandwich. Dumbledore jumped right into business.
"Hermione, I am sure you are aware of the new Marriage law passed by the Ministry?"
Hermione swallowed. Yes, she remembered. She remembered reading the Daily Prophet; Fudge and his minions had finally, idiots that they are, recognized inbreeding in pureblood families for what it was; since all pureblood families are related, and certain people insist on marrying only purebloods, they were all as inbred as the muggle royal families. It didn't surprise her a bit; she had expected something like this. It was still kind of funny though, that people like Sirius and Snape or Voldemort and Harry, or the Malfoys and Weasleys were all related to each other – honestly, how could you go around trying to kill your cousin? Then again, that's just what Ms. Bellatrix Lestrange did; Harry had never gotten over Sirius' death.
And now Fudge had in his infinite wisdom (of which there isn't any), decreed that any single pureblood seeking to marry had the right to call upon an unmarried Muggle-born. Which meant if any pureblood asked for her hand in marriage, Hermione would have to accept. Unless she had more than one suitor; than she'd be allowed to choose. All of this to widen the gene pool among wizards because of stuck-up idiots (certain Slytherins and Ministry officials come to mind...) who insisted they were above anyone remotely muggle, although wizards evolved from muggles in the first place – so somewhere along the line they all came from muggles. It was sickening.
Hermione looked up at Dumbledore, fearing his next words; anything along the lines of the new Marriage law was bad news, considering she was muggle- born herself. Dumbledore cleared his throat. His eyes twinkled behind the spectacles.
"Hermione, I have received word that three men request your hand in marriage."
Hermione's jaw dropped; she hadn't expected this; one maybe, but not /three/....who would want to marry her, the bushy-haired, know-it-all Gryffindor with no love life?
"Who," Hermione asked nervously; her hands were shaking.
"Well, I think I better explain something first...Hermione, exactly seventy- two years ago, three young expectant mothers were friends...Anna, Lauren, and Rose, I believe they went by. They had a discussion one night; unlike our dear minister Fudge, they saw the beginnings of inbreeding in pureblood families; Anna's husband for instance, was her second-cousin. They had been taught as children to marry only pureblooded wizards, so they do not dirty the magical blood-line held sacred for so many generations. And it would hold true for many more, if nothing was done.
In old traditional families, someone a generation above you can ask you to do something, and you do it not only out of respect, but because of the blood-tie; you cannot refuse. The three women's talk turned to their husbands; pureblooded Slytherins involved in the dark arts; they didn't want their future children falling into that life. They agreed to request one of their future generations to marry someone completely different from them, to somehow bring the family to the side of light. The question was which generation. Watching the stars, Lauren saw a comet fly by and pointed out the falling star; and it was to be that when the comet flew by our planet again, letters containing their requests would be sent to their descendants, if they had any."
He paused. Hermione was following what he said fearfully, unsure of what was coming. All she knew was it couldn't be good.
"That comet flew by two nights ago, and the letters arrived to Lauren's, Anna's, and Rose's descendants. Needless to say, the three men I speak of were quite shocked to receive such letters; it was only too obvious what had to be done. Each one of them had to marry their complete opposite; which meant a Gryffindor muggle-born witch. And all three were smart enough to know that for such a marriage to work, it couldn't just be any witch; it had to be one whose intelligence level matched their own; neither were willing to marry a dim-witted woman, but someone whose head wasn't empty of knowledge.
All three independently of each other, came to the conclusion that this meant marrying, well, you. I am deeply sorry about this, Hermione, but I'll allow you three months to chose your husband; by then you must be his fiancé."
Hermione felt a huge weight on her shoulders. Hate, anger, fear, and anxiety weighing her down; it was all so confusing, yet she had to know...
'And who can I choose from?' Hermione wondered. Dumbledore dissapparated from the castle holding onto Fawkes tail as he burst into flame.
Someone banged on the door, and it slammed against the wall and bounced off slightly. Hermione whirled around and stared wordlessly at the men before her.
A youth her age, with platinum blonde hair, and cold steel gray eyes...Draco Malfoy.
A man a few years younger than her father, with long greasy black hair, and cold back eyes...Severus Snape.
A man around the age of her grandfather, with no hair, just cold red eyes...Lord Voldemort.
All tall, pale, evil, British, pureblooded, stuck-up, Slytherin, single wizards...
She blinked once, twice; this couldn't be happening...how...but she knew how it came to be...Dumbledore just told her.
She raised a hand delicately to right over her heart; she felt faint...
But luck was not with her; she didn't pass out.
In its place, visions came to mind of what it would be like to marry either of them. Never had she thought something like this...she wanted to marry Harry, if anyone, and now that couldn't happen.
This had to be a dream, it just had to be...so much like a reality TV show... she wanted to laugh, but she knew none of the three would be involved in a joke...neither had a sense of humor, unless you counted the twisted sarcasm and glee when something went wrong.
So real...
Hermione was in a state of shock; she blinked several times in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing but no sound came out. She stared at the Prince of Slytherin, the Greasy Git, and Moldyshorts, as Ron christened them...
Her eyes went out of focus as she envisioned being the wife to either....
Her myriad of emotions - Anger, hatred, despair, amusement, mischief, and finally, acceptance – were revealed in her eyes...
She felt like she wanted to die...how would Harry feel? Ron? Remus? The Weasleys? Her parents? The rest of the wizarding world?...she could see herself being cast aside as a turncoat from the side of Light, seen as a bitch, a whore, a puppy to her master by the side of Dark, but never quite finding a place...
She was determined not to break down...no, she couldn't break down here, not now...the one thing she couldn't do was show weakness...
Her three evil Slytherin pureblood suitors (it felt so strange to call the Malfoy, Professor, and Dark Lord she had known all her life that...) as they turned towards her, advancing towards her...she felt very small being only 5'4", while they were about 6'3" to 6'7"...
She looked each of them in the eye, craning her neck slightly to do so.
She wanted to cry out her fears but she couldn't here, no...
She wanted to pound something senseless but she couldn't do that either...
She wanted comfort but she knew none would be given...
Hermione smiled politely in confusion, although it wasn't returned; she hadn't expected that. It surprised her that Dumbledore had fled, but there were other more pressing matters at hand. The silence was heavy with tension; for once Draco, Hermione, Snape, and Voldemort had nothing to say. Hermione struggled for a conversation topic.
"Husband...Hell – I mean, I had always thought of marrying Harry ..."