The Dark Lord Harry Potter

Hermione Granger was more than a little confused. When she finally made it to Hogwarts she had believed that the answers were obvious. The incident with the Dementors showed just how powerful Harry Potter was, and how willing he was to protect her and others. That, coupled with her growing theory, all pointed to the fact that Harry was, in fact, Mr. Rochester with whom she had been communicating with for the past year.

Yet at the first dinner she couldn't so much as gain his attention.

He seemed to carry on five or six conversations in parallel, and still have time to give the occasional glance at various other women, both schoolchildren and older individuals. Yet he had yet to make eye-contact with her, apart from his general sweeping gaze across the room.

Clearly he was busy, perhaps he just needed time to settle in to his schedule and figure everything out. A week had passed, then two. Still there had been no change, no communications from him outside of the normal class conversations, no visits or inquiries, hell he didn't even act differently towards her when they were in class.

Was she wrong? Had she been incorrect in her hypothesis?

No, no it couldn't be. She had begun looking up to him as a goal and idol. Her secret, nighttime, fantasies by this point were all focused on him . It couldn't be anyone else. Or, and this thought sent her into a mild despair, perhaps she had upset him.

What if he was angry at her, or disappointed? Had the attack on the train been a test for her to succeed at? What if she had failed him without even realizing it?

The very notion that he may choose to abandon her nearly caused a mild panic attack in the young Witch as she stood up to silently pace around her dorm room. Thankfully, the other girls were either heavy sleepers, or used charmed privacy curtains so as not to be disturbed.

She needed to talk to him, to make sure that everything was still okay, that he still cared about her.

But how? She had never summoned her benefactor by choice before, and the mere thought of doing so seemed near blasphemous. He only seemed to arrive when…

The answer came to her in a flash of insight. That was it, the answer so clear that she almost banged her head against the wall for not seeing it before. Now all she had to do was find the correct circumstances, and if it meant spilling a bit of her own blood then so be it.

...

"Headmaster"

"Ah Severus, please come in."

The Potion master nodded, before taking the offered seat, "I was wondering if you have spoken to Potter yet."

Nodding, the elderly Wizard offered a lemon drop as he answered the inquiry, "I have Severus, not only did I spend a lovely week with him during the summer but I also had a brief meeting with him the second day after his arrival. I wanted to ensure he understood the safety procedures set in place, especially since they are focused around his own protection."

"I see…" Snape paused, briefly going over the possible ways of addressing his followup, "and the incident on the train?"

A silence fell onto the room as the older eyes lost their twinkle, "I mentioned that Dementors had entered the train and that he needed to be careful, yes."

"You know that is not what I am speaking of."

"Oh?" It was a rare thing for Albus Dumbledore's voice to lose its warmth, to become as frigid as any Death Eater's, yet it had in that moment. "And what are you speaking of Severus? The rumors that the creatures fled the train at once? That we were spared any further catastrophes and potential loss of innocent lives?"

"That, and the rumors that a student had seen Potter interacting with one."

"Ah yes, a fifth year Gryffindor if I am not mistaken, one who had also claimed that he had barricaded himself into his carriage and was hallucinating that spiders were covering his skin. I do believe Madam Pomfrey gave him a quite the dosage of Calming Droughts to even obtain that much information."

"But sir…"

"But nothing Severus. It is just as likely that the boy had a nightmare inspired by Mr. Weasley's constant berating of Harry as it is what he 'claimed' to have heard and saw."

The Slytherin Head of House nodded mutely. Clearly he was not getting anywhere with any authority figures. "I understand Headmaster, I will keep these rumors to myself." With a nod the man stood and excused himself. Clearly something had to be done, and if Dumbledore would take no action then he would.

If the world needed evidence then he would provide.

...

If Hermione Granger were a 'normal' and 'balanced' person she would have known that what she was doing was wrong. She would have seen the signs and gone to seek help, whether professional or just from a mentor or teacher. If she wasn't so desperate for a single boy's attention she would have noticed that the path she walked could never lead her to the life she had wanted as a younger girl, a husband, two children, and a cozy house with lots of books, but Hermione Granger was neither 'normal' nor 'balanced' in terms of a social or emotional life. Thus she was currently sitting in the main hall with her fellow Gryffindors, even though she had long since stopped seeing them as her 'housemates', and waiting for the Slytherin students to arrive.

Her plan was ready, it was concise, it was detailed… all she needed was for a certain boy to arrive. For the object of her focus to step through the doors so that she could show him how much he meant to her, how much his approval meant above all others. How much she was willing to sacrifice.

The minutes passed like years, until finally he entered, surrounded, as usual, by a host of Slytherins and other students vying for his attention.

The men were hoping his greatness would rub off on them, that they could be even a tenth of what he was.

The women were sluts just praying he would look at them. The bushy-haired Witch knew this was true, it was obvious by the way they watched him, followed his movements, traced his body.

They were not worthy of him, of his time or his touch.

She was, she could do so much for him, would give him anything, everything, he could ever want and more. She was intelligent, loyal, skilled…

They were nothing .

Now to show him this, "You really should try and convince Professor McGonagall to let you skip out on electives Ron, you do so poorly that it would be far better to fail fewer classes this year."

"Up yours Granger." the redhead snarled.

'Not good enough, Harry didn't even notice.'

Her plan of attacked shifted just slightly, surely the Weasley could do better than that. "Of course if you don't have me to copy off of you will probably fail everything instead of just most of your subjects. How did you even move on from last year anyway?"

"You know what Mudblood fuck you! You are such a worthless waste of life I don't even understand why anyone bothers with you. You have no friends, no one likes you… hell even McGonagall is tired of seeing you in class. You are just going to end up alone and you know it ."

There it was, the pain of his insults finally broke through her walls and brought tears to the bookworms eyes, causing her to flee in embarrassment moments later as the laughter began from the table.

However, out of the corner of her eye she noticed a pair of emerald-eyes watching her.

....

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