Disclaimer: Anything related to the wonderful books of Harry Potter belong to the fabulous JK. Rowling.

Prologue.

"Do you know who she is Dumbledore?" asked a blank-faced, Kingsley Shacklebolt, leaning with both arms on the table, his outstretched fingers gripping the wood.

"Or HE," the Weasley twins, Fred and George or as they liked to call themselves Gred and Feorge chimed in with identical amused smirks on their faces, high fiving each other. The youngest Weasley snorted at his brothers' jibe at the dark wizard while grabbing a chicken drumstick from the food platter in front of him.

"BOYS!" Molly Weasley scolded, glaring at her sons' bad table manners as she watched them eat with their hands and not their knife and fork.

"What?" Fred said, "it's possible," George added, finishing his brother's sentence.

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles at the head of the table in the basement kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"No. Unfortunately I for once have no clue, my mind draws a blank." All eyes turned to Harry Potter who sat, sandwiched between his two best friends, the messy haired, bespectacled boy blushed slightly at being put on the spot as all eyes zeroed in on him due to his unfortunate connection with the man in question.

"Harry m'boy, have you seen anything lately?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring the scowl from his Potions Professor. Severus Snape hissed and spoke in a clearly unamused cold voice.

"What is the point of me giving up my, MY PRECIOUS spare time to teach the brat Occlumency if you're going to ask the twit questions like that?"

"Enough, Severus." Dumbledore's eyes flashed in warning at the dark, foreboding wizard every student knew not to cross.

The professor in question glared darkly at the old man who had been the bane of his existence for many years. Instead of going to that dark pool of thoughts, he kept his eye on one of the golden trio in particular. The one whose life hangs in the balance if anything is to happen to said member of the golden bloody trio and he took this job, more seriously than any other job's he's taken up reluctantly or willingly...

Severus suddenly felt his chair tipping backwards...not by his doing of course and grabbed hold of the table instinctively. Everyone else around him was too wrapped up in the Dark Lord's mysterious bride to notice this oddity. Cursing himself for acting like a Muggle and grabbing the table top, he suddenly felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach and his chair went flying backwards with a loud crash, making everyone in the vicinity jump.

Hermione Granger smirked behind the book, she was supposedly reading and slammed it shut. She'd grown tired of their talks of this mysterious bride, and annoyed of her Potion professor's glances in her direction. She had no idea why of course. Rising up from her seat she tucked her book under her arm and turned to look at those around her, all of them too shocked by the sudden bang to speak.

"Did it not ever occur to any of you that this could be a..." she paused, "positive thing? After all, Professor Dumbledore, aren't you always saying love is the answer to everything?" she asked meeting his calculating blue gaze.

"Very wise words, Miss Granger." Dumbledore's attention had turned to his brightest student and then looked at everyone else in the room. Severus had been helped back up by Arthur Weasley and a reluctant Minerva McGonagall, who he was sure would have highly praised whoever set this prank upon the dark wizard next to her.

"But Tom cannot love, he knows not how. This must be a personal gain, whoever this woman is must have something he wants, plus he is a very selfish man and thinks only for himself. But we must save this woman whomever she is once we gain more information." Dumbledore looked directly at Severus whose lips had tightened into a hard line as he glared at the headmaster.

"Well, if I may be excused, I would like to finish reading next year's Charms book. I for one have no interest in Lord Voldemort-" Flinches and glass dropping and hissing could be heard around the table upon hearing he who must not be named, name out loud.

"Love life." She finished, ignoring the reaction. "In my opinion, if we interfere we could be making the war even worse than it already is."

Ron Weasley snorted in disbelief. Completely ignoring everything she said apart from one thing.

"You already have next years books?" Harry Potter looked up at his curly haired friend amusedly but he had to agree with what she said, regarding Voldemort's mysterious lover.

"Only you Hermione, only you would think to ask for next years book listings," Ron Weasley said in a voice of disgust.

Hermione shot him a glare that would have turned him to ashes.

"At least I take my education seriously Ronald... unlike some."

"Well, when we win this war, we won't need an education, because we will be famous for defeating he who must not be named."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fame won't get you any where Ronald," she said with an edge to her voice that even the Weasley twins picked up on and lost their smirks and the twinkle of amusement in their eyes.

The other members looked upon the trio they had come to rely on for various different reasons with a hint of wariness and amusement.

"Of course it will, it will give us all the money in the world, and people will want to know us, and call me a hero."

The room went a deathly silent. Even Harry Potter didn't respond to Ron's last comment. Harry briefly wondered if this was the only reason Ron befriended him because of whom he was, and because he was his friend, everyone would know who he is.

"You Ronald Bilius Weasel are nothing but an egoistic, selfish airhead, that deserves nothing after what you have just said," Hermione spat, then turned sharply on her heel and marched out of the room.

A jaw dropping Ronald Weasley said once he found his voice, "did she just call me Weasel?"

Molly Weasley had been slowly sizzling with anger upon her son's behaviour, all three of them in fact, and her son's words had her fuming.

"You and I are going to have a word, young man." Molly said, and before Ron knew it he had his ear being pinched and dragged out of the room.

The other members of the order could hear "ow, ow. ow, OW bloody hell woman" as he was dragged up the stairs to the main part of the house.

"Well, I think that has officially ended this meeting." Dumbledore said.

"If that is all Dumbledore. I am needed elsewhere." Severus Snape said.

Dumbledore looked over at his spy.

"Be careful Severus."

"I'm still standing aren't I?" was his sarcastic, irritated reply.

Dumbledore nodded and the Dark Wizard left, still seething from the prank played on him, and he had a feeling he knew who, but could not act upon revenge... hopefully the dark lord would request her presence during term time so he could have the pleasure of tainting her perfect record with detentions.

Meanwhile upstairs in one of the single rooms, Hermione Granger locked her door, aimed her wand at the empty fire place and the room lit up as the fire came to life along with the candles she had dotted around the room, some scented lavender and summer berries.

She made her way to the double bed, re-opened her book and placed her finger tip to the blank page.

Words appeared from her thoughts.

I need you, the connection is open.

Not long after they vanished, a man appeared through the fire unscathed. A tall-muscular handsome looking man with a smirk on his face; he supported a mop of dark messy hair, the brightest of green eyes, and a prince's nose. He made a beeline for the woman on the bed who had risen as he approached her, and she him.

They looked like long-lost lovers, as they embraced and kissed with hunger and passion as she clung to him, and he held onto her as if their lives depended on it. Her hand tangled in the hair at the base of his neck whilst her other hand held onto his head, holding him to her, unwilling to let him go.

His arm wrapped around her waist whilst his other held her back, his hand holding her to him at the base of her neck, tangled deep in her curly brown locks. Not even the thinnest piece of paper could get between them.

He edged them backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed, and they both fell to the comfort of the bed sheets in a tangle of naked limbs. Her legs hooked themselves around his waist, and as he slid deep inside her, he broke the kiss and leaned his foreheads against hers.

"God's I missed you," she whispered. He kissed her again.

"And I you," He replied against her lips as they set a frantic pace. Thank Merlin for silencing and locking charms, Hermione thought, as her hands traveled down his toned back, and his wandered to her breasts as his lips attacked her neck, hitting all the right spots along her skin.

After their coupling, she lay in his arms once more, cuddled into his side.

As he gazed down at the sleeping beauty in his arms, blanket's covered half up their bodies, he wondered:

How had he gotten to this point? He was a lucky bastard to have this witch in his life, and thank Merlin for luck of fate. Not that he was one to believe in that rubbish until Hermione walked into his life quite randomly and unexpectedly. A year of bliss, indeed.

In a different part of Number 12, Harry Potter had other problems he'd kept to himself and cursed the connection he unwillingly had with Voldemort. In the old bathroom of number 12, he embarrassingly had to rid himself of problems down bellow in a hot shower whilst biting his tongue to stop himself from screaming as he released underneath the tidal waves of cold water from the shower head above.

This only happened when the Dark Wizard was obviously with the woman. He got the odd flash of skin, and female body parts, but never the face.

He had also kept this a secret from the Order, because A) he didn't want to have to explain his problem, but B) He didn't want to know who the woman was in the first place, she probably being the one and only Bellatrix Lestrange (knowing she was his favourite death eater) and he really didn't want his ass burned, in case she saw him through his eyes. His friends had told him a few times, his eyes had flashed red on very rare occasions before he faints. Thankful it was all over now, He cleaned himself up and dried off, hoping nobody was none the wiser.

Back in Hermione's room, Tom moved his arm from around her waist and traced the little snake tattoo just above her hip. He'd placed it there upon the eve of their engagement a month ago. Hers was different to his followers', and he placed it in an area where none would be able to see it but him.

He would brand her with the same mark as his followers once they where married, if she wished it. But for now, she wore his mark, the little snake, wrapped around his crest. Leaning down, he kissed the ring that rested just above her breasts on a gold chain, then placed a kiss over her heart as he chose to use her chest as a pillow for the night and played with the ring whilst he slowly drifted off to sleep listening to her heart beat.

Content with the fact she is safe within his arms once more. Soon, she'd be with him on a more permanent basis, soon she will be his queen, his wife, the mother of his babies. It's funny how something unexpected can change your view on certain topics of life journeys.

Oh he still wanted to rule the Wizarding world, and most importantly, Hogwarts, re-change it back to the way it should be, but his woman and future family came first, his beliefs, and enemies second. His horcruxes, third. No, she was the most important thing in his life now, his precious treasure. His greatest find and if anyone dared laid a finger on her pretty head that wasn't his own hands running through those lush curls... he'd Crucio and Avada the offending limb for touching his.

...Time skip...

The next morning Hermione woke to find him lcompletely encasing her in his embrace, and she loved it. Loved the fact, that a man was looking after her, that he felt the need to protect her. Today they'd be returning to Hogwarts, and she wouldn't be able to see him until the next Hogsmeade weekend, which is normally a month after the start of term, nearing Halloween.

Tom stirred not long after her, kissed the ring and then made his way up her chest and neck, licking and nipping in places, his strong arms holding hers in place so she couldn't move apart from her legs which she wrapped around him as his morning wood rested teasingly against her lower lips.

His hold on her arms loosened enough so she could move her arms around his neck, her finger tips dancing around his waist and up his back loving the feel of his muscles rippling underneath her fingertips. As their lips met, her hands tangled in his hair.

"Make love to me," Hermione demanded against his lips.

"With pleasure." And who was he to deny his services in such an intimate and stimulating act? Only Hermione would have that privilege or balls to command him, after all that's how they ended up an unexpected couple almost a year ago.