A/N It will be a long AN cause it's the LAST ONE!

All righty. So here we are, my darlings. After three years the story is now finished.

I would like to thank all of you who stayed with me for such a long period. I greatly appreciate every single one of you who managed to read the story from the beginning to the end.

This was my first ever story and as you have probably noticed, my writing style has changed a bit..snickers

As many of you know, I really wanted to finish Colors of Life just because it had to be finished and because I wanted to concentrate on my other story.

I am truly happy that I started this story, as I gained a wonderful friend whom I cherish with all my heart. For three years this person has been constantly helping me out, anchoring my mental stability and just being there for me. Thank you, Nerys. You know how much I love you :)

And also my other friend and our Lord worshipping second serpent f, Serpent in Red, hugs and kisses to you too! You both are awesome; thanks to you Serpie is still somehow "there"….or not…snnrkss

P.S Nerys also suffered from beta-ing this chapter, so send her some cookies… lots of cookies J Trust me, she had a lo-o-o-o-ot of shit to clean up. Some of it is rather hilarious and embarrassing, but hey, that's me! …:)

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews and critique, I really appreciate it!

AvalonChick19- it was not the end, THIS is :D I hope you like it.

I responded to all your reviews personally, but there is one person whom I cannot reach because of the Anon status. So, all of you who are not BOB, can just skip this part and move to the actual final chapter.

Dear BOB, the first review let me believe that you were a complete moron. Your second review changed my opinion about it. However, If you want to pair those two up (Voldemort and Hermione) you have to choose which of the characters you "butcher", as you called it. Since it is clearly written on my profile that I will never ever write fanfiction with "butchered" Tom (he is evil and beyond redemption, that is a fact, and no Emo!Toms allowed here), then I will have to "butcher" Hermione. Such a strong character as Voldemort, who is a sociopath with a genius mind, will manipulate and turn anyone, even without them noticing that. Plus, a little bit of irony and humor would do you some good. I am sorry you feel that this Hermione "deserves to die a painful death as she is a whore", because that is just not going to happen. Deal with it and for your mental stability's sake stop reading the story, as I highly doubt this chapter will be to your liking. Enjoy Emo!Toms elsewhere, there are plenty of those around. Good luck!

Chapter 22.

Requiem for a Dream.

This was getting more and more difficult and complicated. There were just too many things to deal with at once: his Death Eaters, the old coot, his re-creation of his Horcruxes and her.

The Death Eaters' numbers were growing rapidly. The knowledge Lord Voldemort had gotten from Hermione's mind helped a lot to push his cause forward and mask it up for the "not-elite" ones. Now, even the half-bloods were willingly joining his army. No, his Death Eaters weren't a problem.

Neither was his immortality. His Horcruxes were changed by him after he had witnessed his crazy and completely out-of-his-mind-with-no-brain-cells-left self in the future. No way in hell was he going to turn into that now. He had found an old manuscript by his wonderful ancestor, which explained how Horcruxes could be molded together. This way he was not really tearing his soul into so many insane pieces that could be destroyed too easily. Instead, they were just anchors of his soul – a soul that was divided in seven pieces inside his body instead of roaming around in different physical objects. In case he were to meet an Avada Kedavra or some other lethal curse or poison, the soul's parts would dissolve into the previously chosen objects, which were set to form a new body immediately. It would only cost him one Horcrux if that occurred and he deemed such an event very unlikely since he was the greatest, most powerful wizard alive.

Still, his new creation of immortality was a really complicated accomplishment, and it took a lot of Dark Arts knowledge to do so; but he succeeded. Of course he did; Lord Voldemort smiled smugly. After all, he always succeeded at everything he'd set his mind out to do.

No, Lord Voldemort only had two issues that threatened his new and improved lifestyle. And he tried to find the best solution to the "Lemon-drop", as he'd started calling Albus Dumbledore. He really needed to get rid of him. Fast. And there was another, more urgent issue to solve. Twirling a glass of fine wine, Tom's mind focused back to his biggest problem of the moment: his wife.

They had created a time paradox in far too many ways. Even the ritual with the knowledge sharing, or draining would be a better word as he took her memories and not the other way around, had expended the rift in time. Time's shape and form had become so twisted and unpredictable because of one simple reason: Hermione Jean Riddle-Granger. Since she was still present in this time where she didn't belong, it had become abundantly clear to him that time tried to get rid of her as if she were a stick in its ass: disturbing and making it uncomfortable. She'd had too many odd, near fatal accidents. If it hadn't been for him, time would've succeeded in its attempts to get rid of her by now.

Still, he could only be at so many different places so many times at once, and eventually, Hermione would vanish, disappear from this day and age and his grasp. He couldn't let that happen. Lord Voldemort was doing all he could, spending most of his time trying to find a way to switch the destination point of Hermione's inevitable temporal journey. If he didn't succeed, she would end up in Limbo, not fifty years in the future since the future that she belonged to and came from no longer existed. She would be stuck forever in the middle of nowhere.

Lord Voldemort was going to change that. He was not only going to manipulate magic, people's minds and the world as a whole, but time itself. He was the greatest wizard of all time after all, as he firmly believed, and if anyone could do this, it was him.

Smiling, Lord Voldemort apparated home to Slytherin Manor, where his wonderful puzzle was undoubtedly fuming, or even better, spitting fire like an enraged dragon. He so loved taming wild things.

And so it happened.

He could see Hermione cry in the temporal fog he'd created, and for the first time in his life, Lord Voldemort really hoped that he hadn't messed up the incantation.

Glaring at Dumbledore, who seemed shocked and even sad, Lord Voldemort smiled his most beautiful smile and whispered: "It's only the beginning."

xxxx

Three years had passed and the old coot was still alive. The magical world was at war: a pure and wonderful war that the Dark Lord so enjoyed. Disgusting Muggles were being wiped out from time to time; despicable Muggle-borns were suffering dramatically. Lord Voldemort really enjoyed the mayhem he caused.

All was good aside from the Light Army with its moronic leader.

Looking at the battle field where two armies clashed, Lord Voldemort was even sort of relieved that his Hermione was not here at the moment. First of all, he would have had to kill her for all the meddling she would have, no doubt, imposed upon him. Second, she would've been seen as a target. Being his wife, the other side would have counted her as his primary weakness, which he had to admit (only to himself naturally) was partially true. And last but not least, without her here, he could concentrate on bringing order to the magical world and bringing down his enemies instead of fucking his lovely wife non-stop.

Where would she be, he wondered.

If he was correct, and he seldom wasn't, then she was nowhere at this moment in time. To her it should feel like a simple Apparition, so she wouldn't even know what was happening to her. Or so he counted upon. He couldn't be one-hundred percent certain, since his incantation had lacked proper testing without a suitable test subject to use. So, he had no choice but to try it out on her. He was hoping she wasn't in some weird dangerous place, for Lord Voldemort was not finished with her yet.

Angered by his concerned thoughts, the Dark Lord fired an Avada Kedavra at some fighting wizard within his line of sight. He really did not check if it had been his Death Eater or a Light wizard. Who cared anyway?

xxxxx

Finally. It had taken him another year, but finally …

Finally, he saw Dumbledore's wand fall out of his hand, as the color of his ancestor's House illuminated the Headmaster's form. A final and pure Avada Kedavra cast by Lord Voldemort himself. The purest light of the Killing Curse collided with Albus Dumbledore's body, and it made Lord Voldemort laugh happily. For the first time in four years.

He had beaten the old coot in the final battle!

It had lasted longer than he'd wanted, but the outcome was a complete defeat of the Light Side, as they'd used to fancy calling themselves.

The Dark Reign had begun.

xxxx

Everyone around him was just plain dumb. Morons, they all were morons.

Lord Voldemort, the Emperor of Magical Britain, winced as he thought about his minions. It had been five years since his wife disappeared, and it was time for her to return. He was sick and tired of dealing with nothing but morons. Of having to "communicate" with monkeys who couldn't form one single coherent thought in their insipid brains. He needed someone to talk to, not to mention that he needed to fuck Hermione desperately. He was aware he'd become crankier and crankier with every passing day. But no "fuckdoll", as he charmingly called his one night stands, satisfied him anymore. He wanted his bloody wife. Now!

He glanced at the calendar that was hanging on the wall of Slytherin Manor. It was now called the "Emperor's Manor" by his subjects. Lord Voldemort had taken the title of Emperor. Not only liking the sound of it, but also the fact that he had been the only Emperor of a magical country or countries that ever existed. He was expanding his territory fast, moving his armies to Germany just to piss off the spirit of Grindelwald. He had them take over France, since he liked Paris. And soon, he would rule the whole of Europe.

Now, all he needed to do was prepare everything for the arrival of his darling wife.

Her "Hogwarts Express", he smirked at that though, was arriving tomorrow.

Lord Voldemort was really glad he cut off Dumbledore's beard just for the fun of it, because he had a master plan in his head that needed the old coot's presence. The Dark Lord needed to make sure where Hermione's loyalty lie.

xxxx

She hasn't changed at all, Lord Voldemort thought as he looked at the limp form of his wife lying on the wet grounds of Azkaban shore.

This was possibly the hardest task he had to accomplish in the last five years, besides killing Dumbledore. This was the moment he would either let her go, as he had promised a long time ago, or he would make her his forever. It all depended on her now. Their destiny was in her hands.

Well … sort of … He might have stacked the deck, but still ….

Triumph.

That was what the Dark Lord was feeling when he interrogated his wife under the disguise of Albus Deader-than-Dead Dumbledore. She was willing to give up everything, absolutely everything for him. Instead of trying to save herself, she was thinking of his last Horcrux and how to resurrect him. He'd never told her those Founders' objects he'd collected hadn't become real Horcruxes. He'd lied to her about creating his immortality that way. He'd never told her about his brand-new, alternative method since if she'd choose to leave him, he'd then have to kill her for the knowledge she would have.

But this … her thoughts …

He hit a blank wall whenever he tried to find the location of Slytherin Manor in her mind. She was protecting him fully.

Did she just tell Saint Dumbledore to let the door hit him in the ass?

He was unable to keep his cool then. A broad smile erupted on the face of his dead enemy.

Triumph.

She was his completely, and now, he knew it and she'd acknowledged it.

He had won. It was then that her fist collided with his nose, hard.

xxxx

"How could you," Hermione half-sobbed, half-growled, clutching to the lithe form of her husband, who was alive and here with her.

She wanted to kill him herself, to torture him with the Cruciatus Curse until he shit in his expansive pants. She wanted to destroy him; but at the same time, she had never been happier and felt more relieved than she did right now. He was alive and well. She would get the details of what had happened to her later. Now, she needed to decide what to do. She was no fool. She understood very well that she had to choose between walking away or staying with him no matter what.

Looking at Tom, Hermione made eye contact with him, asking him for the information of past events.

His eyes were now completely red, but not as she had expected. They'd not turned into the "never-to-exist-old-Voldemort's" red. They were dark red with sparkles of black, and most importantly, his eyes looked somewhat sane.

Her husband had remained sane.

At that thought Hermione snorted, wondering if he'd ever been right in the head.

The Dark Lord was too amused to comment on Hermione's thoughts. One could even say he was happy; however, Dark Lords do not do "happy", so amused is the best you could get.

Cautiously, he let her inside his mind to show her what happened after she'd disappeared. He hoped she like the edited version of the events, since he blocked all those "Hermione-will-be-too-pissed-to-think-straight" events out.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione took a deep breath and moved to the door.

Looking back at her stoic husband, (damn Emperor, she thought) Hermione opened the door that let to her freedom and stepped out. Absentmindedly, she slowly walked away – out of this horrendous building to get some fresh air and think.

Could she stand by him after all that he had done? She knew very well that Tom had edited the actual version of the events that had taken place. Still, even without the worst of it, it was awful. Muggle-borns were treated like scum; Muggles were dying; the empire was expanding; there was no light in the end, as there was no one left to stand up to the "Emperor".

No one but her.

Determination filled her very soul, giving her the will to fight, to make things better, to somehow slow down the Emperor, her husband.

She was still on the shore of the Azkaban, having left her husband only an hour ago, when she came to a decision.

Turning around from the cold waves of the sea, Hermione saw his lone figure standing near the entrance of the prison. With determined steps, she made her way to him and stopped just a few centimeters away from Lord Voldemort's penetrating gaze.

"So, what am I now? A Dark Lady or an Empress?" Hermione asked her now smirking husband.

"You are my wife, and that is all that matters," was his smooth reply, right before his strong hands embraced her.

xxxxxx

It had been a long day, and she was tired. Tom was right: Some people were just morons, who did not understand even the simplest of tasks they were told to perform. Looking at the pile of papers in her hands, Hermione let out a growl of frustration.

"Having trouble, darling?"

Even after ten years of her return, his voice was still the most erotic thing to Hermione.

"Yes, your moron of a Minister managed to misplace some children and mixed up the orphanages. So now, we have over one-hundred German Muggle-borns at the age of five in an English orphanage and over twenty English toddlers in the German one instead. Seriously … how difficult can it be?"

Frustrated and angry, Hermione leaned into Tom's embrace and inhaled his addictive scent.

"This is your project, darling, remember? You were the one who fought against the discrimination of Muggle-borns and created the law for integrating them into the magical world from the very beginning," Lord Voldemort answered.

He stroked Hermione's growing belly, where his heir was now having fun kicking against his hands with its small legs. His child always loved the attention of his father; even thought said child was still unborn. Of course his heir wouldn't need Hermione's little pet project. It would have two magical parents right from the start: the two most powerful magical alive, if he said so himself.

Hermione'd come up with an idea that in order to stop the discrimination of Muggle-borns, all children had to be raised in the magical world from the beginning. She, herself, and Tom, as well, remembered very well the shock they had experienced when they had found out what they were. This way nobody would call magical children demon-spawns, and thus, making them suffer from abuse and neglect, as Harry'd been treated.

Nowadays, all Muggle-borns were in very high-standard orphanages with the best teachers, staff, and environment, so that there would be no difference between them and the pure-bloods. The parents of those Muggle-born children were Obliviated.

Hermione'd had problems with that at the beginning; but in the end, it was for the greater good.

Changes had to be made, and since her husband was a pretty straight-forward "Avada Kedavra, Crucio or Imperio" kind of wizard, then Hermione felt this was the best solution she'd come up with. She was after all the only person standing between his path of destruction and the wellbeing of their entire world.

With the knowledge Tom had of Horcruxes, he'd made her make one. Just one, just in case, as he'd stated. Luckily, she had to kill an already dying person, who'd asked to be saved from the suffering of a painful, lethal disease. That one Horcrux became imbedded in her wedding ring, and because she wore said ring twenty-four/seven, it was also the reason why Hermione did not age as fast she would normally have done.

Now, as she carried their first baby, a boy, Hermione felt that she had accomplished her dream goal. She was helping the world, helping children to have a better life, and she had a husband whom she dearly loved.

She also knew he loved her as much as she did him, no matter what he said. He even took a liking to Butterfly and Dumbles, who now had free rein over the manor. When Dumbles would swear at visitors at random moments, even the Dark Lord was amused – especially if said "visitors" had displeased him.

Nagini, well, that creature was special to Voldemort and the snake was always in close range to him. Nowadays, however, Nagini would spend a lot of time curled around Hermione instead of Voldemort, placing her head with huge yellow eyes on Hermione's big belly as if she was protecting the child of her master.

A happy kick in the stomach told Hermione that their baby was just as happy as she was.

xxxx

Lord Voldemort looked at the sleeping form of his heavily pregnant wife, who would give birth to his son soon. They were his treasure.

His child would be the best wizard ever, maybe even surpassing him. However, Lord Voldemort doubted that. He was the most powerful sorcerer ever, and he had no plans to die. Hermione did not know it yet, but she was in for a very long ride on this planet as well.

Caressing Hermione's belly, Lord Voldemort smiled when he considered how many things Hermione did not know and did not need to know.

She was so deeply involved in the Dark Arts, so deep into his politics, that she didn't even realize that she'd succumbed to the Dark Side completely. She had her own vision of the world, thinking she was changing it for the better, thinking she was going against him; but in reality, she was doing everything he'd always known she would do. She'd become so lost in the Dark that the Dark seemed Light to her now. It was exactly how he preferred her to remain.

This world was exactly how he preferred it to be: His empire, His wife, His child.

Lord Voldemort had won.

THE END.