Chapter Text
The waves were churning at the prow of the boat, as they stamped towards England in a brisk headwind. Her hair was whipped by gusts of wind, making it even wilder and more tumultuous than usual, but her warming charm kept her nice and cozy inside her grey Muggle coat.
Great, white clouds marched in the skies, casting shades and patches of sunlight on the waves. Her back was warm, though, because of the body heat emanating from the tall frame behind her.
She smiled, as his arms snaked around her, caressing her belly, and she turned halfway to him, saying: "I'd never thought I'd see you on Muggle transportation."
He snorted a little before he replied: "I would never leave you to travel alone like this. So Muggle ferry it is." Then he said slyly: "You turned down my offer of flying, though."
Shivering with mild disgust at the thought, she said decisively: "From Paris to Little Hangleton? Never. And, especially not now. "
He patted her belly again, and was rewarded by a strong kick, distending her stomach for a moment into an odd, foot-shaped form. She felt him smile into her hair. He always did that when he felt the movements of their son, and she found it endearing, though truth to be told, her husband had very few ‘endearing’ traits.
As for him as a father – there was no telling how he would act as a parent. She supposed, he was a better husband than she had imagined. But raising a small child? Well, she'd be there, saving the world as always, if need be . He looked incredible in a Muggle suit, though, she noted with a small smile.
In the distance, something white was growing out of the ocean – the cliffs of Dover. "Are you ready?" he asked softly.
"I know the plan," she said. "But you have to keep your end of it. No unnecessary killings."
He nodded, repeating her phrase, though stressing a different word: "No unnecessary killings."
She supposed, she'd have to accept that, though it wasn't ideal. He was returning to England in triumph and as a hero, being the most awarded student in the long history of Sorbonne for his accomplishments, plus sporting the award First Class Order of Jeanne d'Arc from the French Ministry of Magic.
The award was a complete sham, as he had gotten it for saving a group of children from a vicious attack from a pack of werewolves. The truth was, of course, that the attack had been a set-up, to ensure recognition and fame, though he had singlehandedly crushed a pack of six werewolves. She had helped to set it all up, admitting to herself that it probably wasn't her finest hour, but in her defense, she had thrown shields around the children, protecting them, while he had been attacking the werewolves. Still, her very own First Class Order was not something she wore with pride.
Sighing, she pleaded: "Voldemort, you know how I feel about this."
He had shed his old name like the snake he was, when first arriving in Paris. No one at the Sorbonne had batted an eyelid to his name, after all, it was a French derivation. And slowly, ever so slowly, she had started to address him by that name in everyday life too, not only in the bedroom. It was strange in the beginning, but not anymore. In her mind, he had been Voldemort all the time, it was just a question of equating that with the physical reality of Tom Riddle's handsome face.
"I know," he whispered, rubbing his thumb over her belly. "That's why this will work so well."
In France, he had completed the three year-education in half the time. After that, he had served almost five years as a Sorbonne Dark Arts professor and as an advisor to the French Minister of Magic. For herself, she had become a research fellow in Arithmancy and Charms, with glittering academically results. She prided herself on her research, and the recognition she found in the frequent citations of her published works.
In their return to Britain, her role was to build up a British, magical university, promoting learning, justice and peace, giving his rule the touch of humanity it would sorely need. He was to set himself up as the supreme ruler of the British Wizarding world, starting with infiltrating and taking control of the Ministry and the Wizengamot with the help of his followers.
At first, it would seem like a political movement, led by a bright, young star politician, but it would morph into his darker dream before long.
Sighing, she looked up at him, feeling sure that they would make it. "It will work, the question is how," she said firmly, and the familiar chill ran down her spine, the one she felt every time she thought about this.
Oh, she'd help him, and do everything in her power to make their plans come to pass. She had made her choice to love him, killing Sebastian Lestrange for him, and shown her support again and again by plotting, planning and contributing to his coups.
In their future, she would be the compassionate queen, lulling the public into believing their cause to be good, nurturing a just society. He'd be the strong ruler, harsh when needed, but a charming family man and a powerful wizarding king. And their little son would be the crowning glory: A princeling, the heir, giving the promise of stability and strength. So much of their real goals and actions would be absent from public scrutiny, hidden deeply under the glossy façade they would present to the world.
But she would have to fight him, every single step of the way, to ensure he didn't dip into total darkness, supreme madness and casual killings.
No one would know of their fights, when he pulled for brutality and harsh punishments, and she dragged him back across the line of justice and decency – though only barely, and sometimes not at all. No one would know that those fights would happen daily. But everyone would know in those cases where she lost and his darker side won out.
"I need you for this," he said in her ear, kissing her earlobe.
"I know," she replied softly.
And at last, the absence of her future life felt right. It was lost to her – she had failed Harry and her own timeline . Instead, she had created an alternative timeline out of her own failure to rid the world of Voldemort. With him, she'd make a difference to the world, creating a stronger, better magical community in Britain, saving the world from darkness on a daily basis.
He fondled her Time-turner, and then moved his left hand down to her fingers, slowly stroking her wedding ring, his right cradling her belly. "We'll rule forever."