He's Back
-1996-
‘He’s back, Voldemort is back!’
Harry’s words echoed through her mind, the image of Cedric’s dead body still flooded her memories. The dark lord had returned, though the ministry tried to deny it. But Hermione knew that Harry would never lie about such a thing, and the aura around them just felt off, it felt wrong. She knew things would change this year, her fifth year at Hogwarts.
She had been learning so much, between classes and her ‘Lord of Learing’. He still visited her at night, and now he had convinced her to meet him secretly in the Room of Requirement. She hated breaking school rules by being out past curfew, but she could never disobey her Lord after everything he had done for her. She had never seen his face though, he always remained in the shadows, never appearing to her. Sometimes she wondered if she truly was going mad, blindly following the instructions of a voice.
“You must trust me my little witch, you will be more powerful than any of your classmates, more powerful than that fool who runs this school.”
His words always found a way into her mind when she would doubt herself, or him. They would bring her comfort as well.
“Hermione are you even listening?”
Ron had been dragging on about how his father had been pulled in for questioning by the minister, since he and Hermione were the close friends of Harry. Of course they would be warned to not spread ‘rumors’ or gossip of the dark lords return.
“I heard everything you said Ronald!” She bit back at him, “it’s not like the minister can go to my parents, or Harry’s! So of course he’s going to interrogate your father!” She then looked pitifully at Harry who still had nighmares of the night Cedric died. “Harry, there was nothing you could do, please you have to stop blaming yourself.”
“You weren’t there!” He looked straight at Hermione, his green eyes had lost so much of their sparkle, “you didn’t watch him die! You didn’t watch as that monster was re-born from your own blood.” He then rubbed the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, “and now, he haunts my dreams, and my mind, even when I’m awake!”
Hermione reached across the table in the great hall, taking his hand into hers, “you can’t let him sense you. Your connection to him is stronger now. You have to find a way to hide that link, it can be a strength for us to fight him.”
“Don’t you think I know that?!” He suddenly shot from his seat, storming from the great hall.
“Bloody hell, he’s moody.” Ron shook his head, “I’ll go after him ‘Mione”
With a sigh, Hermione watched as Ron ran after Harry, her eyes full of tears. She couldn’t just sit around, she knew one person who could help her, but she hadn’t heard from him all summer, nor during the first week of their return to Hogwarts. She would make her way to the Room of Requirement that night and hope he would come to her.
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“My lord? Are you here?” She walked around the ornate library she had created in the room. It had been a room of her own design, glad that it would meld to anything she desired.
When she heard no response she let out a frustrated sigh before retrieving a book from a nearby bookcase, ‘dueling – dark arts edition’. Her heart had nearly leapt from her body at the title. This was truly not her intention, she had never laid a finger on any dark arts book, but for some reason, the book had offered this to her. And her curiosity, along with the return of the dark lord, made it so she couldn’t put it away.
Slowly she made her way to a large armchair that sat before a fireplace, using her magic to light the fire to keep her warm. She let her finger wander over the title for a moment before she slowly opened the book, her mind full of curiosity as she began reading.
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It was just after 3am when he appeared in the room of requirement. Having just gained his mortal body back, he had found it nearly impossible to breach the wards of Hogwarts Castle last year, and had spent all summer finding a way to break them. It was not until she had returned that he was able to return as well, a connection he had made with her when she was just a first year guaranteed his entry.
He was ready to call for her when he sensed a presence already in the room. Carefully he glided to the nearby armchair, making sure the cloak he wore was secure, the hood covering his face. There before him slept his little witch, clutching a book to her chest, a book of dark arts. The grin on his face grew, knowing she couldn’t deny her education, even if it was forbidden.
He knelt down in front of her, letting a pale finger trace over her delicate cheek as she slept.
“My little witch, soon you shall be fully mine. And immortality will be ours.”