Hermione and her Father have a heart to heart talk.

A few days had passed since the Department of Mysteries break in. The Dark Lord had secured an unbreakable vow from Pius Thicknese that what occurred that night, and everything that happened with the Hallows afterwards, would remain confidential.

He and Marlene had retired back to McKinnon Manor and spent the entire night together, finally becoming fully soul bonded. Tom hadn’t realized just what he’d been depriving Marlene of all these years. The pain and agony her soul must’ve gone through, living with a partial bond—the sense of unfulfillment a real, constant living breathing ache, made Tom feel unworthy of his mate. But to her credit, Marlene didn’t complain, didn’t chastise his choices—she’d just held him in the afters and thanked him for being with her and not giving up on her.

It was truly a humbling moment for him.

When they had returned the next morning to Malfoy Manor, it was to Draco holding his daughter as he talked softly to her. Tom didn’t think any wizard would ever be good enough for his heir, but even he could see that Draco truly loved Hermione and for now, that was good enough for him.

Marlene had sat next to her daughter and enveloped Hermione’s head with her hands and together, Tom watched in stunned silence as the golden light that had emanated from Hermione during the revel (when she had healed the Connor girl), was now coming from his witch. Marlene’s essence flowed like golden fire and he felt his own aura respond in kind as he too felt their connection burn though him.

When Hermione finally opened her eyes and breathed out ‘mum,’ in such relief, he felt a lone tear fall from his eye in response.

Marlene stayed with Hermione that entire day.

Mother and daughter spent the day lying abed and talking about everything. Hermione would exhaust after an hour or so and Marlene would gently play with her hair and watch her baby girl fall asleep...her eyes never leaving the peaceful face of her only child. He sat down by the window, playing wizard’s chess with Draco and then Lucius, while the elves served meals and Narcissa fussed over everyone.

By the third day, Hermione was feeling a bit stronger—enough to take small walks to and from the Library.

Severus had come by and checked up on her, explaining that she had greatly taxed her magical core and it would likely take a week or two before she was back to full strength. Hermione had nodded and listened while Tom extracted a promise from her that she was not to exert herself in any way until she was fully healed. His stubborn daughter had reluctantly agreed, and he made sure Nagini stayed close and ever watchful.

His snake was good at guilting Hermione into anything.

Tom hadn’t realized what he was truly missing in his life until his daughter came along, and that was love and family. He’d never had a true family (not in the conventional sense) and had never known love. Dumbledore had speculated, according to Marlene, that he had been conceived via a love potion and that was why he couldn’t love.

That was a load of bullocks as far as he was concerned.

No one truly knew what had happened between his mother Merope and Tom Riddle Sr.

No one ever really knew the true reason he had discovered his heritage in sixth year at Hogwarts, nor why he’d set out to deliver vengeance on his Muggle Father and his Uncle.

No one ever suspected the truth.

It was often speculated that his mother had died in childbirth, and the Matron at Wool’s orphanage had been happy to spread that lie around. Mrs. Cole had told as much to Dumbledore, but the truth was far more sinister.

On December 31, 1926 Tom Marvolo Riddle was born: the by product of a relationship his mother Merope had with a Muggle. His grandfather Marvolo had been so disgusted by Merope’s fascination with the Muggle, he’d cursed her with a rare blood curse found only in the Gaunt Family Grimoires. This curse would, over time—force Merope to transform herself into a snake and eventually, the Maledictus curse would consume her completely, forcing her to remain in the form of a snake, indefinitely.

When he’d found Nagini slithering around the grounds of Hogwarts his fifth year, it had taken him some time, but eventually Nagini told him the full story in his sixth year; of how she’d barely survived his birth and it was only due to the blood curse she had been able to do so. She’d left and wandered a bit before realizing that her son would be old enough to attend Hogwarts.

He hadn’t wanted to believe it at first, that this snake could be his mother—but after Nagini had shared the story of her Father Marvolo and the Riddle’s, Tom realized Nagini had been telling him the truth.

As time went on, Nagini’s instincts became more snake than human—but her Magic was still there. She’d been so browbeaten by her brother and father, she’d been almost afraid to practice magic for fear of retribution by her deranged family. So time moved on and Nagini identified less and less with Merope Gaunt, and more and more as Nagini and for him?

That was much easier to deal with.

Having a Maledictus for a Mother hardly seemed commonplace and definitely not something to be brought up in polite conversation.

The time would eventually come for Hermione to hear Nagini’s story, understanding just whom the snake was to her. The curse was irreversible, as Nagini had been in her current form far too long and sadly, he had never thought to try to break the curse when he was younger—something he’d come to regret greatly, as he saw his daughter curled up on the sofa by the fireplace in Malfoy Manor’s Library, laughing at something Nagini was sharing with her.

Tom Riddle had a lot of regrets it would seem, and he’d never given them any thought...

...until now.

Catching his daughter’s amber gaze, she smiled widely at him with such love radiating from her countenance, it made his breath hitch in wonder. That even after all the evil he’d done, and still continued to do, his daughter loved him unconditionally. Death had been correct in that there had never been a greater gift given than the one his daughter had bestowed upon him. She had given up ultimate power and immortality for him...for her Mother.

If there was ever a truer testament to love being the greatest magic, he wasn’t sure what it could be.

He walked over and sat down next to his daughter, wrapping her into his side as she sighed softly and moved herself deeper into his embrace. It was a while before words were spoken and when he looked up, it seemed that everyone except Nagini had left them to their privacy.

“Are you angry with me, Father?”

He sighed again, shaking his head in the negative. “I probably should be, but I can’t find it within myself to be so, Hermione. What you did for your mother and myself was far more than I deserve, but I’m grateful nonetheless. I’ve said it before that I value you above all others.”

“When I first found out you were my Father...well? I wasn’t sure you’d want me for a daughter.” Hermione felt her Father’s arm tighten a bit around her as he pulled her closer to his side. “So, I tried to make myself invaluable but you were right when you’d mentioned my penchant for plotting ten steps ahead. I initially went after the Hallows because I’d thought I might need a back up.”

Hermione let the thought hang for a moment, hoping her Father would understand her reasons without actually having to say it.

“I suppose I understand why you would feel uncertain, Hermione. I’m sure most of what you’ve learned about me from my past, likely gave you the impression that I wouldn’t be open to having a child.”

“The thought did enter my mind, more than once if I’m honest. Nagini had assured me that you wanted to get to know me, but everything I’d read about you seemed to indicate otherwise.”

“I’m sure I deserve that assessment.” He grimaced. “Hermione, I’ve told you before I’m not a good wizard and I won’t apologize for it. This is who I am but that being said, you will never need to fear me. I may get angry with you for keeping secrets, frustrated at your penchant for plotting and self-preservation but those are also the things I know that have kept you safe these many years. Your intelligence, cleverness and cunning are three of the things I love most about you.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock as she looked up at her Father’s face in wonder.

“You love me?”

He chuckled at the surprised look on his daughter’s face.

“How can you doubt as such? My soul is healed due to my love for you. You honestly thought I’d never say the actual words, when my actions clearly showed my true feelings?”

“Well, we both are emotionally stunted in some ways, Father.”

“That we are, Daughter, but I’d like to think I’m working on being a better Father to you and a better mate to your mother. Salazar knows she deserves far more from me than I’ve ever given her.”

“I don’t think mum’s ever seen it that way. I think she’s always known who you were and are, and accepts all of you.”

“Probably also more than I deserve.”

“Just for the record...I love you too, Father.”

His face broke out into a genuine smile as he kissed his daughter on the top of her head.

“Then I am a very fortunate wizard indeed, my dearest.”