Tomione AU Friday – Sci-fi Prompt

Warning: violence, death, and langauge

Apex Predator

Author's Note: This story is long. Like, really long. I'm talking over 9,000 words long. I really liked the prompt though, and when you have a plotbunny, you just have to follow into down the rabbit hole. Enjoy!

i. Year: 3087

"You can't tell anyone I'm here." Sirius closed the bedroom window and sat down on the edge of the bed. Harry had him heard him barking underneath his bedroom window around midnight. The little boy was used to getting late night visits from his godfather, but usually they were under the supervision of his parents. Harry carefully opened his window and was greeted by Sirius bopping his nose as he finished climbing the trellis.

"I won't." Harry nodded his head vigorously. It made him feel like a grown up when he talked with Sirius.

"You can't tell your mum and dad." The stern tone in Sirius's usually mellow voice scared Harry.

"Not even Daddy?" They aren't your real parents, Sirius wanted to remind the boy. You live with cyborgs because your parents died trying to protect you.

"No. Only you can know."

"Ok." Harry scooched closer to his godfather and tried to give him a hug, but Sirius groaned in pain.

"What's wrong Padfoot?"

"I'm very sick Harry."

"Well, you can come live with me! I'll give you chicken-noodle soup and pop tarts and Band-Aids and mommy and daddy can help you because they're doctors and-" Sirius cut him off.

"Thank you Harry," he sighed, ruffling his godson's hair, "But your foster parents aren't the kind of doctors I need."

"They're cyborg operators and," Harry paused as he tried to form the word, "ana…ana..ana-man-gus operators too, so they can fix you."

"No one can fix me, Harry."

"How come?" Harry practically shouted in frustration. Sirius held a finger to his lips to shush him. "How come?" Harry angrily whispered.

"I'm dying."

"You're what?" Harry faltered. No one died these days, not until they were very old or if they were heavy substance abusers. In this new century of 3000, medicine was so advanced that there was no illness. Because of this, Harry really didn't understand what death meant.

"I'm dying, Harry." His godson gave him a puzzled look, and Sirius tried to explain. "Remember when your goldfish floated to the top of the bowl and your dad had to flush her down the toilet?" Harry nodded his head. He remembered how Daddy had gingerly scooped Hedwig's limp body out of the tank with one of those little green mesh nets that reminded him of the scales of the mer-creatures in the lake. Hedwig, his goldfish of four months, had stopped breathing, and her tummy wouldn't move. "I am going to be like her someday."

"Flushed?"

"No," Sirius chuckled, "I'll be dead."

Harry clung to his godfather's hand. "But why?"

"My body is rejecting the hardwiring." He rolled back her sleeves to show his godson his robotic arm. The artificial human skin that usually covered it was now puckered and infected, and had begun to peel away to show all of the wiring.

"Will my body reject the wiring too?" Harry rolled up his sleeves as he glanced in fear of the thin neon green wires barely noticeable through the simulated skin layer.

"No, no, no. Of course not, Harry." Sirius wrapped his good arm around his grandson. "I'm only partially robotic, but you're a complete cyborg. You had the operation when you were only a year old-so you probably don't remember, do you?" Harry shook his head 'no'. "Well, you are the first of your kind-they tried working on other babies but none of them survived. That's why you're the boy who lived." His godson nodded in vague understanding, and Sirius was instantly reminded of his best friend. His son really did look like him.

Sirius had served with James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew in a special ops unit of the Order. The Marauders were amputees turned animal morphers, also known as Animagus Transformers, who helped created an underground map of the entire Grindlewald base. But James had been murdered and Peter had turned because of a system override and Remus had a severe hardwire virus that made his mechanics go haywire when he was in wolf form.

"When the Order of the Phoenix took in amputees as soldiers, they thought we would be the perfect cyborg soldiers! They never accounted for the fact that our bodies were not meant to be machines-or that we could be hijacked and hacked." At that moment, a glob of sticky black bile seeped out of Sirius's nose. His eyes became bloodshot. Sirius's body convulsed, rolling off the bed and onto the floor. Harry yelped in terror, clambering down to the carpet.

"Padfoot? Padfoot!" Sirius's body had finally stopped shaking, but his breathing was shallow. "Padfoot?" Harry whispered. He could hear his parents running up the stairs and calling out for him, but the child tuned them out as he listened to his godfather. The twenty-seven year old man pulled his godson down towards him by the collar of his red pajamas.

"I need you to hold onto this. Moony will collect it from you soon. But whatever you do, don't let your Dad find it." Sirius pressed an orange pharmaceutical bottle into Harry's small hands before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his skin turned pale. Sirius's hands were still gripping Harry's and his cold grasp had only loosened slightly when Harry sensed his godfather no longer had a heartbeat. Suddenly, Harry heard heavy footsteps up the stairs and a knock on the door.

"Harry? Sweetheart?" His father called out to him through the door. Harry's eyes grew wide in panic, and as his father began to open the door, he slipped the bottle into his pajama pocket.

But Moony would not see Harry until was 13. Remus had been grateful for the bottle and greedily swallowed pill in one gulp. But the specialized pills took effect too slowly. Dr. Lupin was Harry's psychological advisor for only a year before the "Hogwarts Operation" discovered that Remus was an infected cyber-wolf and had him "removed".

ii. Year: 3097

It starts off as a synchronized 'tick'. The crowd doesn't notice it yet, but Harry looks at me out of the corner of his eye. He hears it too. The artificial sun is setting above our heads and everyone is outside to watch it. Today is the 500th anniversary of the planet Wizardrandra and our world is celebrating. We are the only known human-made planet within the universe.

Harry's eyes glow phosphorescent green as he scans the surrounding area for the source of the ticking. The tiny village of Hogsmeade watches on, anxious for tonight's festivities. Normally a small town would be the worst place to possibly hide, but Harry wanted to observe the fireworks-he's never seen them before. Harry and I aren't safe wherever we go though- Harry is a cyborg and I'm a lab rat of sorts. I don't know the full extent of my powers yet, but so far I'm telekinetic, a fire manipulator and I can teleport.

The sun touches the horizon line and the ticking grows louder. The crowd is oblivious.

"I can't find the source," he keeps repeating the phrase to himself over and over, as if by saying the words they will no longer be true. The first firework blazes up and showers down, but the ominous ticking is louder than the boom of the light show. "It's the fireworks-they're bombs!" Harry has to scream over the noise. The next few fly up into the air, and this time, as they fall, they plummet directly into the audience. The cheers quickly turn to screams of panic as the crowd begins to realize what's going on. A siren wails in the distance and squads of hover crafts appear. Death Eaters with the all too familiar black uniform and neon green Voldemort emblem jump out of the crafts in mechanical order and start shooting out on the crowd.

"We have to help them!" Harry gestures out to the people running around us.

"There's too many right now!" Harry is scanning the crowd as he calculates the odds. He screams in anger because he knows I'm right. There are at least 400 plus Death Eaters, and only 2 of us. "We have to go now Harry." His hands are curled into fists and his wires are glowing red. I grab his shaking fist and transport us to the rendezvous point in a small eco-field some 1000 kilometers away.

The village square feels like it's being sucked up in a vacuum and it swirls away from our field of vision. Soon, we are in a small channel of air that's squeezing us through time and space. No stars shine tonight, and we are surrounded in utter darkness. We crash land in the fields and roll onto crops. The eco-fields act as a simulated green house for the genetically engineered plants that grow there. I dust off the neon purple plant matter but Harry sits on the ground, angrily pulling out the weeds.

I hear a 'thud' behind me and I turn around. Ron is shaking the rain from his shaggy red hair, and sheets of excess rain fall off his worn-down leather jacket. His bright blue eyes are narrowed in anger. He's alone, meaning he wasn't able to bring her back. "That bitch! She ratted us out!"

Ron is also a lab rat with powers, but he lacks control because he draws his energy from his raw fury. And the 'she' would be Pansy. She was another lab rat who escaped with us. She wanted to return to her old life desperately, so it wasn't hard for their spies to coerce her into telling them our hideout. And now there's only Ron, Harry, Tom, and myself. The others were taken or killed. It wouldn't surprise me if they killed Pansy after tricking her…

"All those people in the village… they died." Harry murmurs with frustrated tears in his eyes. "They died because of us." Harry is special-not only is he the youngest individual to ever survive a cyborg operation to completion, but he's also extremely empathetic. He doesn't like to talk about his childhood, for obvious reasons. His parents were soldiers for the Order of the Phoenix, and when they died, his godfather had him placed in a cyborg home. After Harry watched Sirius die, Dr. Dumbledore had raised him with his maternal aunt and her husband off planet on the moon Mugglend. But when he was 11 he was "selected" to join the Hogwarts program where he met Ron and me.

I feel Tom's presence in my mind, and I let him in. Even though he's hiding in a national park 200 kilometers away, he can still hone in on us. Ron grabs Harry and I, and he takes us to Tom.

They made us this way, but now we are beyond their control. And they want us dead, all 200 of us; even if it means mass destruction and chaos. Just like today in Hogsmeade; they let their bombs ruin the lives of innocent people in the hopes of killing two teenagers. We are 'Hogwarts', a confidential project centered on giving gifted children special abilities to become the next 'Super-Solider'. Our project was terminated after the death of an agent who was vaporized by ten year old Colin Creevey. We were forced to watch Colin be shot to death by firing squad, to teach us all a lesson. When the kids rebelled, they knew it was time to stop. But it was too late. The serum we were given for months on end was fully in our systems. The only way to stop us was to kill us. So we ran. We've been running for a few months now. We are beyond help.

iii. Year: 3096

"Neville? Neville, what's wrong?" Neville was sitting in the lounging chair, rocking back and forth. He was wringing his hands together in his lap.

"The drugs they've been giving us to calm down- they make me itchy and I can't stop shaking now." Dr. McGonagall nodded and jotted down something on her pad of thick paper.

"Are there any other side effects I should be aware of now?" Neville pauses for a moment before violently scratching his head like a dog with fleas. His skin turned to a sickly looking fur coat of a Dalmatian, but he didn't seem to notice.

"They make my head hurt."

"Like a migraine?"

"…Sort of. More like there's a bomb inside me, ticking. I hear the ringing in my ears all day." He closes his eyes, and a pained expression is on his face. Neville's hands fly to his ears and cover them, and he rocks back and forth at an alarming rate. Neville's skin changed again into a deep black, matted fur of a bat. Dr. McGonagall drops her paper and runs to the boy. She holds the boys shoulders and keeps him still until the episode is over. When it's done, Neville pulls away his hands, and tears pool in his eyes. His skin is back to normal but his eyes seem hollow. "Please, just make it stop. Please." The boy curls into a ball and sways to an inaudible song. The older woman holds the sixteen year old like he was her own son.

"They tortured my parents, did you know that?" Dr. McGonagall held the boy's shoulders square and looked him dead in the eye. "I guess they didn't tell you. That's how the government got legal rights to us; they selected adept children with little family, and then killed the remaining family. I watched as my family burned alive. They thought they had erased my memory with that Tommy kid, but it didn't work. He had just gotten the serum injections… I remember all of it." Dr. McGonagall got up off her knees, but her focus never shifted from the small boy in front of her.

"Neville…I think it would be best if you don't tell anyone about that memory." Neville nodded his head vigorously. Human flesh turns to the bright feathers of a macaw. "Okay, well, our appointment is up, but I think I have a slot open for you tomorrow. Does that sound okay?" Neville nodded only once this time; he was preoccupied with the sight of his sweaty, feathery palms. He got up very quietly and left the room. Dr. McGonagall stood by her desk for a few moments before snapping herself back into reality.

She rushed to the cedar wood shelf and searched for the secret key. Once she found the old and frayed digital copy of Frankenstein, she pulled it back with a tug and the cedar shelves separated to form a stairwell down to the filing room. She raced down the stairs as the door closed behind her. The eerie green light of the file room ahead was the only light visible. She stormed through the file room door, and let it slam shut with a 'BANG!' Her fingers ran over the glossy cabinets that house the files until she found the section she's looking for. She pulled open the drawer and searched desperately for the kid's file. "101, 102, 103, 104… aha! 105." She grabs the file cradled it like a child holding their first gift on Christmas morning. She began to read in full depth on Subject 105, also known as Neville.

Subject 105

Name: Neville Longbottom

DOB: 7-30-80

Blood Type: B Positive

Weight: 140 lb.

Height: 5'11

Selected for Duty: 9/1/91

Serum Dosage: Two mil. Per Day

Notes: Subject is a bright boy… Not too social; keeps to himself. He shows promise in the field of tactical planning and defense.

Dr. McGonagall scribbled in a new set of notes for herself.

Subject not responding well to additional calming medication. Shows symptoms of scratching, high sensitivity to sounds and light; has migraines. Subject believes he has bomb inside him. Progressing quickly in development after only 5 months of steady dosage. Has changed skin type to that of a variety of animal. Subject has an alarming recollection of his selection, showing sign of strong mental blocks, despite Subject #3's skill set. Have Subjects work together?

The wall monitor rang, stirring her from her pensiveness. She walked up to the monitor and looked at the caller ID: Unidentified Caller.

"Hello?"

"This is Dr. McGonagall from Level E, I presume?" She stared at the monitor screen and could see herself in the top right corner, but the screen showed no face or room. It only showed her fuzzy black pixels flickering in the green light of the room.

"Yes, I'm Dr. McGonagall. May I ask who is calling?"

"That, I'm afraid, is none of your business." Dr. McGonagall didn't know how to reply. "I assume you just finished your weekly session with Subject 105?" The man's voice drawled.

"Yes sir."

"How is he doing anyway?" He asked with a false sincerity.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but that is none of your business," she sassed back.

"Doctor, you will tell me everything, whether you want to or not, is that understood?"

"I will once I know you who are." She could hear the man growl on the other line.

"Let's just say I'm from Level A." Level A sent chills down the Doctor's spine. At the base, there were five separate 'levels'. Level A was the control center, and only the top agents knew its location on the large base. Level B was the IQ room, a designated for testing and enhancing the children's mental abilities. Level C was the training room, where the kids worked on their speed, endurance, strength, and their special 'skill'. Level D was the medication application laboratory where the serum was produced and administered. And Level E was the mental health and wellness ward.

Dr. McGonagall cleared her throat. "What did you need to know on Subject 105 sir?"

"Stability update."

"At the moment, he's having a bad reaction to the calming serum. However, he is now changing his skin to that of animals."

"But he can't become the animal?" The man sneers.

"No sir. Granted, he is making incredible progress since he's only been using the serum for five months now." She heard the crackle of the connection between the two monitors as the other party covered the monitor and told a coworker something.

"Up... dosage from... to 5...we need...him into training...possible." This was followed by the scratching of pen on paper, the hard patter of fingers against a keyboard, and the rustling of papers.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?"

A new, younger voice answered. "Dr. McGonagall, you are no longer needed. At ease, soldier." A shooting pain ran through her hands, up her spine, and to her temples. She dropped the file and the papers fly out of the folder and all over the floor. Dr. McGonagall screamed in agony, but it fell upon deaf ears. She writhed in pain and her body trembled. She collapsed on the floor and blacked out.

Through the monitor, the callers were still talking. "Send a crew down to collect her. Nice work, son." The older man clapped the younger man on the shoulder.

"Eh, it was nothing Dad. I've done harder work with the Subjects."

"Were you really the one who planned the whole scheme of the 'bad reaction'? Because I have to say, that was brilliant. You had the quack eating out of your hand the whole time."

"It wasn't too hard, despite the distance. But we have to make sure that kid gets wiped. Same for the quack."

"Of course, of course. You made me proud today, kid. Oh, and Bellatrix, turn off the monitor."

iv.

"Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione leaned on the edge of the pool table, her hands nervously gliding over the wood.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Ron quipped back. He chalked his pool cue and aimed the cue ball at the neon red and purple balls. The cue hit the ball so hard that it ricocheted off the table side and went into the pocket. Ron slammed his balled up fists on the table, sending the pool cue flying to the floor with a 'crack'. The balls all shook from the force of his anger.

"Your aim's off... not to mention you're throwing temper tantrums like a five year old."

"No I'm not!" Ron huffed and crossed his arms. Hermione sighed and hopped backwards onto the table. She patted the seat next to her, gesturing for him to join. He begrudgingly joined her, but not before he slyly glanced at Tommy at the other end of the rec room, where he was showing some of the other kids how to play pool. He watched as the other boy effortlessly tapped the ball with the cue as it tapped three colored balls and sent them flying into the pocket in rapid succession. Tommy's piercing eyes looked up and greeted him kindly, but Ron sneered at him. The red head sat down with a 'huff' and let his hands fall into his lap.

"Ron, what's wrong?" He inaudibly grumbled to himself. "I can't hear you, what?" She leaned in closer and cupped her ear teasingly. He frowned at her with a scowl on his face. "Come on Ron, use your words."

"Fuck off." Hermione seemed startled by his hostility and leaned back from him. She grew wide-eyed at the thought of him being mad at her. She reached out to touch his arm, but he pushed it away.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me. But at least tell someone, like Dr. McGonagall. All that anger and rage will eat away at you if you don't let it out." Ron gripped the edge of the pool table hard as he turned to glare at her. "And when you're ready to talk, I'll be here, okay?" He snarled at her as he leapt off the table and oddly rolled his head around, making a loud cracking sound. His eyes look washed over and blank as he stalked out of the rec room. It was almost as if he had been brainwashed… She glanced down at where his hands had just been and noticed the scorch hand marks scorched into the table.

Tom politely shooed the younger kids out of the rec room as Hermione stared off into the distance. He came around on the other side of the pool table and leaned against the table, facing her. He leaned his elbows on the table and gently nudged her knee. She turned to look down at him with tears in her eyes. Alarmed, he stood back up. He offered his hand out to her, and she took it as she stood up. His bear-like embrace swallowed her up.

"I just don't want him to do something stupid and get himself hurt, you know? If he would just tell someone..." Her voice caught in the back of her throat, and Tom kissed the top of her head and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"Hermione, he'll take care of himself; he's a tough guy. But I don't want you getting hurt trying to help him, you're too good for him." She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that he is dangerous. He broke a kid's hand last week." Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"It was an accident."

"What about punching the doctor in the nose?"

She chuckled, "Which one?" Tom joined in in the laughter, wiping away the small tears that had crept down her cheeks.

"I just don't want you to get hurt Hermione. I can't lose you too," he murmured into the air around them.

Hermione nodded, "Do you think about her a lot, your mom?" He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes showed that he was remembering her. She could almost picture his mother in the glassy green reflection of Tommy's eyes; a young woman with the same dark hair and the same kind eyes sitting in her office. The woman letting out a scream as her patient let the bullets fly from his gun, rippling through her body. The funeral, a forlorn affair with lots of friends and family that young Tom doesn't know; he's too little and too scared. He mostly tunes out the conversations his father has as he clings to the leg of his business suit. But he hears whispers around the room. Merope was pregnant again.

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. "Now, both of us can't be sad. Should we flip a coin for dibs on who gets to be depressed?" He looked down at her and grinned.

"How about we're both happy campers?" He gave his best fake smile, and she smirked.

"Oh goody." Just then, Ginny rushed into the room.

"Hermione, we have to go get blood work done."

"Okay, I'm coming." She looked back at Tommy and gave him a big thumbs up along with a cheesy grin. He reciprocated with a smirk. She walked out with Ginny, but turned back to wave goodbye. He stuck his head out of the rec room door, leaning on the door frame as he waved back. Tom watched as she walked away. His chest puffed out, and his skin felt like it was tingling. He wasn't quite sure what exactly what he was feeling.

Tommy turned back to the pool table to put the cues away when he noticed the dark scorch marks on the table. He walked over to examine them more closely. His eyes grew wide as he ran his hand over the hand prints. He rushed to put the cues away, and flicked the light switch off as he left the room. He tried to act like himself: cool and collected. But soon, Pansy had skipped over to him and had started chattering on about how nice Dr. Thompson was and such. She was annoying but harmless. Tommy had to keep reminding himself that emotions were dangerous, but practicing what you preach was rather hard to do.

v.

"And she understands that I have issues, and she wants to help, but I don't know how to tell her and… are you even paying attention?" Dr. McGonagall stirred from her daydreaming and blinked a few times. She held a hand in front of his face, palms facing the sun, as if to shield away the bright light. She grumbled something under his breath, and then aloud to her rather irritated patient.

"What time is it?"

"What are you, hung-over?" The teenager sassed back.

"Just answer the question Mr. Weasley."

He glanced down at his watch. "10:06 AM." The doctor scratched her head and her eyes glazed over. "Are you alright Doc? You've been dazed for the past couple of minutes now..." Dr. McGonagall shook her head.

"I'm just tired. Give me a moment to wake up." She reached for the glass of water covered in tiny drops of condensation. She frantically scrambled through her desk drawer to find a pain killer. She downed the water and three large capsules. The boy watched the whole time in horror.

"Now, Ron, what were you telling me before I interrupted you?" Dr. McGonagall peered up from her glass of water to look at him. The boy's hair shined a penny red as he bent his head down, embarrassed.

"I was telling you about Hermione..." A light blush broke out on the boy's face.

"Ah yes, the Granger girl, correct?" He only replied with a nod. "Her consultant is Dr. Dumbledore? I haven't worked with her too much yet."

"Hermione's my best friend. And she knows I have issues, but I don't want her to worry about me; she's got enough on her plate as it is..."

"How so?"

"She's head of sector now and she's also teaching the younger students now, so I don't want to stress her out more."

"Understandable...is there new friends you've made here in the past few months since your transfer? I know it must be difficult-being divided into houses for so long and then being thrown together to live under one sector"

"I always hung out with Harry and Hermione, but they're both really busy now. I'd hang out with Dean, but he's busy knocking teeth with my sister. I broke up with Lav, so I can't really talk to her now without her bursting into tears. Pansy's been more tolerable than usual, but Draco still is a bugger. Everyone else ticks me off. That's why I spend most of my time in solitary- there's no one there to bug me. But that Tommy kid-he's alright I guess. Hermione's been hanging out with him lately…"

"Everyone likes Tom, but I've never met him. He works with a different counselor. Is he like a leader for you all?"

"...I guess you could say that. He looks out for all of us and makes sure we don't fight with each other. He's more of a big brother than anything."

"And do you all hang out together?"

"Sometimes... Mione and Tommy keep an eye on everyone since they are the sector heads, so they circulate amongst the groups. Harry's really busy training with Dumbeldore, trying to learn cyborg secrets or something like that. Pansy and I have all our classes together, so at least I have someone to complain with. When they aren't with the others, we all hang out."

"Are Hermione and Tom close?" Ron's brow furrowed and his eyes glinted with jealousy.

"They're friends, yeah. What's it to you?"

"Oh, I just wanted to know. I think this might be the cause of some of your anxiety." Ron snorted and his hands slowly closed into fists, but quickly stretched out again.

"That's bullshit. I'm 'anxious'," he formed quotations with his fingers, "because of that shitty- ass medicine or serum or whatever you want to call it. I can't sleep well, and when I do, I have nothing but nightmares. I get these weird burning sensations in my arms and legs and it won't go away." The doctor froze midway through writing her notes. Her pencil hit the paper and her hands began to shake.

"Doctor McGonagall? Doc? Hello?" Ron got up from his seat and stood his full height of 5'9. He rushed to the woman and waved his hand over her face.

"I think we're done for today, Ron..." The woman's words slurred together, and her vision was going foggy. Ron walked to the door hesitantly.

"Ok...I'll catch ya later Doc." He did his signature snap (snapping his thumb and middle finger and pointing forefinger like a gun). But this time was different. An electric shock went through his whole body, and he could have sworn he saw bright red sparks come from his fingers. He murmured to himself as he walked down the beige hallway "It's just the lack of sleep and that shitty medicine..."

vi.

That night, it was announced to the subjects that Dr. Minerva McGonagall had had a brain aneurysm, had hit her head on her desk, and bled to death. At the memorial service a few days later, the subjects were rounded up and they headed to the mess hall in a silent black mass. During the service, many of the younger children cried because Dr. McGonagall had been like a grandmother to them. Pansy was holding onto Lavender and Lavender was sobbing gently on Draco's shoulder. Ginny was nuzzled into Dean's side. Tom stood next to Dean with his arm wrapped around Hermione's waist and a comforting hand on the shoulder of a young boy crying in front of them. Harry and Ron were beside her.

About half way through the ceremony, odd green drops pooled in Harry's eyes and dribbled down his cheeks. Ron sniffled loudly, wiping away warm water drops with his sleeve. Hermione smiled despite the tears running down her own cheeks. Her brown eyes were warm and welcoming, and she reached out for Harry's hand. Ginny popped her head out like a turtle and gave him a sad smile. A third pair of eyes looked down at the trio. Tom titled his head, curious of what was going on. He observed Hermione holding Harry's hand and Ron's long arm wrapped around both of his best friend's shoulders. His grassy green eyes did not convey emotions like that of his companions; they simply stared. Tommy reminded Ron of a predator. Lavender let out another high-pitched sob, and everyone turned back to the memorial service.

A new doctor soon replaced McGonagall, but he wasn't the same. The man, Dr. Slughorn was stiff and rigid and called the children by their subject number, not their names. Ron knew, somewhere deep inside, that the death was fishy, but he didn't let it bother him too much. How could he, when he was producing sparks with his hands?

vii. Year: 3097

The trio arrived at edge of the national park under the cover of pine trees. Immediately, Tom was communicating with Hermione.

"Hermione, go. Go now, go as far as you possibly can." He sounded terrified.

"Tom, calm down, what are you talking about?" Ron and Harry looked at her, concerned. Ron's right eye started twitching, and his head was shaking slightly.

"They're here. I don't know how, but they found me. They must have kept Neville so he could sniff me out. That doesn't matter, though. Go as far away as possible. Save yourselves." In the distance, they heard a gut-wrenching scream. Ron and Harry looked at Hermione.

"Tom's in trouble." And with that, the three of them bolted up the mountain side to the park ranger's cabin. The more screaming they heard, the faster they ran. Harry led the way as he tried to sense where the life forms were. When they reached the large wooden building, they sprinted through the open door. The screams got louder and more agonizing to hear.

The Death Eaters were standing by the room, hands crossed and guns down. Hermione raised her hand, lifting the guards up. Lightning fast, she pushed her hand forward, sending the guards flying down opposite directions of the hall. The trio stormed into the room and found a teenager clamped to a chair in the center of the room. His chair was elevated over a tub of eerie purple water. Attached to the clamps were hundreds of small wires, connected to machines all over the room. A Death Eater stood nearby, continually pressing down on his control pad, sending electrical shocks into the teen's body.Ron growled and tossed a giant fireball at the man, sending him through the wall and at least a few rooms down. Harry rushed up the miniature wooden stairway to the kid and began ripping the wires off the clamps, while Hermione concentrated on releasing the clamps. Up close, they could see it was Neville. He was so battered and scarred that his face was almost unrecognizable. He was sobbing hard now, and clung to Harry like a monkey. His bruised flesh turned to that of a chimpanzee.

"Ssshh, Neville. It's all right now, you're safe. Ssshh." Harry cradled his friend, and Ron turned back from admiring the hole he had made.

"Where's Tom?" Hermione asked in utter panic.

"I don't know." Harry murmured as he scanned the room for traces of Tom. At the mention of Tom, Neville went wild and screamed.

"Neville, what's wrong? Do you know what they did to Tom?" Hermione asked as Neville Henry screamed again in fear.

"Hermione, try to connect to him, I can't seem to find him," Harry sighed. She closed her eyes, but they soon flashed open. She shook her head.

"Tommy? Tommy?" Ron was shouting at the top of his lungs. The more he yelled, the more Neville thrashed about. On the final 'Tommy', Neville keeled back from the platform, slipping out of Harry's grasp and fainting into the tub of purple liquid. It hissed and bubbled as it came into contact with his flesh. The skin peeled away from his skeleton like the interior skin of an orange: painfully and in shreds. The acid traveled over his injured form quickly. As he tried to scream, purple foam flowed from his mouth. He tried to extend a hand out to Harry, but now it was only bone. It fell limp at his side as he lay there. Harry began to hyperventilate and Ron ran up the platform steps to calm him down. Suddenly, a pair of large hands clamped down on Hermione's shoulders, and she let out a shriek. She turned around to find Tom standing there in a black suit. He surrounded her in a tight hug.

"They were... and Neville...he fell...the acid...dead." Hermione let out a sob.

"Hermione, listen to me, it's gonna be okay now-" But Hermione interrupted him as she saw the agents come into her line of vision.

"Tom, look out!" She shoved him aside and blasted the agents into the cement wall of the hallway.

Tom frowned. "Now Hermione, there was no need to do that." She gazed up at him in shock. He took her hands in his. "They weren't here for us, they were here for him." He turned to look at Ron. The red head looked up in alarm.

"Tom, what are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"What's going on?" Ron chorused.

"Sssh, don't worry about it Ron. I'll make sure the termination is quick." Hermione's face froze in horror, while Ron turned beet red.

"Tom, what are you doing? What do you mean about termination?" Ron subconsciously backed himself into the wall. Tommy took a step towards the platform for every step Jason took back. The lump on his back left temple was throbbing. It seemed to be saying Danger, Danger.

"Ron, you're a semi-intelligent boy. What does the word termination mean?" Ron gaped and turned a pale white.

"Why?" Ron asked himself.

Tom read Ron's shocked mind and answered aloud for him. "Well, it's all very simple, you see. The Project needs powerful, yet controllable soldiers, like your brother Percy. Although you're powerful, you are just too damn rebellious. And that's going to cost you...your life." Tom smiled up at Ron with such malice that Ron internally cringed. Hermione rushed over and stood in between Ron and Tom.

"Tom, I don't know what they've done to you, but we're going to help you get out of here and we'll fix it." Harry, now calm and alert, grabbed Ron and dragged him down the steps so they could all stand together. The cyborg made sure to stand in front of his taller friend to protect him.

Tom tutted at her, "Hermione," he grabbed her shoulders with both hands, "I'm perfectly fine right now. In fact, I've never been better." She looked at him wide-eyed. "Oh, don't be so shocked. Did you really just think some random child would get the power of mind-reading and mind-control?" Harry gasped aloud. "Oops, did I not tell you about the mind-control?" He said in his nicest fake voice, "Silly me. But no, I was selected at an early age- the day my father joined the base, actually. I was four."

"What does this have to do with the termination, Tommy?" Ron growled from behind his friends.

"If you could be patient, I'll explain. God, you're insufferable. Anyway, I know the true value of the selection and the training program. We are the next generation of super soldiers. It's a real shame you won't be joining us, Ron. Now Hermione, I'm going to have to ask you to move. I have a solider to put at ease."

Harry stepped towards Tom, jabbing a finger into his collar bone. "Don't you dare hurt him. He's your friend! And Ron went out of his way to protect you when the Death Eaters were attacking us during the escape." Tom grabbed her finger bent it back, breaking the skin layer and revealing the wiring underneath.

"Harry, did you really think my father's men would hurt me? Granted, the escape wasn't part of the plan, but it worked nonetheless." He patted the top of the cyborg's head, causing him to snarl.

"You killed Dr. McGonagall, didn't you?"

"Of course I did- that twit was such a nuisance. She and Dumbledore were always asking about me and caring too much about the subjects." Hermione pulled Harry back and stepped forward.

"Why are you keeping Harry and I alive, but killing the others?"

"For multiple reasons. One of them being that you both showed remarkable leadership talents at the base. And that kind of talent needs to be protected before it gets discovered and misused. Plus, I've always wanted to work with a cyborg, they're so rare these days." "And you, Hermione," he lifted up her chin, "you and I have a history that precedes us. We're meant to be together, you and I."

"What are you talking about?" She shoved his hand away.

"We're clones Hermione. Our original genetic links were Hades and Persephone, the last King and Queen of the planet Olympus. She died too young, so when he passed away, he had he and his wife cloned so that they could meet again. That's why we have such a connection," he grabs her shaking hand, "we were made to be together. You're a 7th generation of Hermione Granger and I'm the7th generation of Tom Riddle, but I intend on being the last."

"But what about the others?" Harry asks. Hermione is still staring up at Tom in astonishment.

"We didn't just kill the others; that'd be such a waste. The serum they've been giving us is a type of blood alternation that gives all the Subjects a universal blood type. This therefore gives us the ability to-" Hermione cuts him off.

"-Perform blood transfers to share abilities."

"Exactly. My, my, you and I are of the same mind, Hermione." The echo of the slap as Hermione hit his face reverberated throughout the room. Her eyes were watering up. "...Someone's feeling a bit touchy today, hmm?"

"Those kids didn't deserve to die."

"It doesn't matter whether or not they 'deserved it'. This is survival of the fittest. Those best built for their environment survive, and the others die out. Just face it, we are the top of the food chain, the apex predators!"

"How can you say something like that?"

"Because I'm being open-minded; just think of all the possibilities, Hermione. The blood can now be administered to other soldiers who are willing to properly serve. The amount of powers we might develop in endless; we will be immortal at last!"

"And why is it that you get to play God and decide who dies and who doesn't?"

"I'm not playing God. I'm playing the odds of survival. And it's not like I'm doing this for shits and giggles. This is all for us. Don't you want to live past thirty this time? I have to listen to Grindlewald for now. I'm just following orders and...okay, maybe adjusting them slightly. But in the end we'll usurper him and take our rightful place as the King and Queen."

Hermione backed away from him slowly. "You're crazy, Tom."

"No, you're the crazy one Hermione, for not supporting me. For not supporting us! Just think, you and I can finally be together and raise a family and maybe even find a real sun for this planet to orbit around. I just… I want to protect you, Hermione."

"From what?" She snapped back.

"There are a lot worse organizations out there then us. Organizations that will stop at nothing to get what they want."

"Sounds familiar." She crossed her arms in defiance.

"I'm doing this to protect you!"

"The only thing I need protecting from is you!" She stifled a sob that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" He came closer, but she backed away.

"I thought I knew you."

"You do." His voice softened slightly.

"I'll never be able to trust you again." A few tears streamed down her cheeks. Ron's face ignited with rage.

"...I'm sorry." Tom barely spoke above a whisper. "Just give me some time later, and we'll work things out, okay?" She just shook her head.

Tom scratched his head and tried to return to his usual persona. "It's cute how you're so stubborn about it. It really is. But right now, I need to take care of a termination. It's sort of cutting into my laboratory time. After all, the lab for blood work is only open until five. And tonight, I'll have to make sure his blood is...sanitary."

"You're sick, you know that?" Harry quipped.

"And you're annoying right now." Tommy winked and Harry collapsed on the floor.

"No, Tom, I won't let you do this to him." Hermione stood in front of Ron with her arms out, shielding him.

Tommy sighed. "Hermione now is not the time to play the hero. Why don't you just go sit and wait? This shouldn't take long." Tommy smiled, but she stepped forward, almost to the point where their noses were touching.

"No."

"Yes... now move." She shook her head furiously.

"Hermione, I will brainwash you if need be. Now MOVE!" And with that, he shoved her away, sending her to the floor. "And stay there." Ron rushed forward to help her. She tried to get up but couldn't move.

"Mione!" Tom stopped the boy in his tracks.

"Ah-ah-ah, Ron. No helping. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which would you prefer?" Tom grabbed one of Ron's shoulders and pushed him back.

"Go to hell, asshole." Ron snapped back.

"The hard way it is." A nasty grin washed over Tom's face. His eyes shifted, and fur rippled over his whole body. Soon, a giant polar bear was standing on its hind haunches, glaring down at Ron. He pinned the smaller boy against the wall, as was leaning in to bite off his head when a chair came into view over Tom's head. The chair cracked down on top of his head, and he howled in pain. He turned around and snarled at the attacker. Harry stood with her feet planted on the floor and his hands clenched in fists.

"Leave Ron alone!" Tom growled and charged at Harry. Harry, with his beyond-human strength and speed, ran at Tom, and their bodies collided. The sound of metal hitting furry flesh and grinding together drove Ron to his knees. As his head hit the cold tile floor, he saw Hermione struggling only a few feet away. As Harry and Tom fought head to head, Ron crawled across the floor to her. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her from falling over.

"I know how to stop him." Ron shouted. His voice sounded different, almost robotic.

"How?" Hermione covered her head as a piece of a filing cabinet flew over her head.

"Just like how we escaped- I blow up the building after you and Harry escape."

"But if you do that then..." Hermione recalled the escape from a few months before. Ron had drawn from all of his reserves to blow up the base, leaving him unable to transport. Rae was then forced to teleport Harry, Tom, and a passed out Ron while Pansy flew away. Ron looked her in the eye and nodded. "No! I won't let you. We can stop him together."

"The only way to get him is if the building collapses on him and he goes up in flame."

"We can both do that though!"

"No. Out of all of us, you have the highest chance of living. Not to agree with the uber-prick over there, but he had a point." He ducked as a splintered piece of wood flew over their heads and cracked in the air. "If I escaped with you and Harry, then I would get you all caught. I'd probably end up setting a city on fire. But you can make it out there. You're smart Hermione; you'll be able to stay under the radar."

"You're sounding as crazy as Tom right now."

"But I am." He flashed a smile, but she couldn't laugh at a time like this.

"Ron, you don't need to die to help us escape. Who says that we can't get outside, and then blast it?" She growled as a bundle of electrical wiring zoomed towards them. Without even batting an eye, she shot her hand out to blast it to the other side of the room in a fluttering pile of ash.

"Hermione, you don't understand. I want him to go down with me in a fiery blaze, I want to pump his heart full of flame and watch as he screams in agony." Rae's mouth was slack-jawed, shocked at how badly Ron wanted Tom dead. "He's responsible for Ginny's death. I need to avenge her. If we take each other out, then we're both doing the world a favor by dying." Hermione's chest heaved up and down as the tears watered up in her eyes again.

"That's not true Ron, you're better than this." He shook his head.

"Sorry to disappoint you Mione. It seems to be the only thing that I'm good at any more." He wiped away a tear with a calloused hand before running at Tom.

"Shit!" Hermione jumped into action, running towards Harry. Tom the polar bear had been trying to attack the cyborg teen, but he kept chucking items at him. With every hit, Harry grew weaker and Tom stomped closer. By the time Hermione had reached Harry, Tom was looming over him, ready to strike. Harry looked like she was about to collapse. Tom raised his giant paw to slash the cyborg's face when Ron appeared from the top of the platform and sent a fire ball at Tom's arm. Tom roared out in pain, turning to face his attacker. Hermione dashed over to Harry's limp form and lifted his arm over her shoulder.

Ron looked back at them and nodded his head. "Go!" He screamed, and turned back in time to dodge an attack from Tom.

Tom was on fire. Everything was happening in slow motion, and he felt sick to his stomach. He used his remaining will power to morph back into a human, only to fall on the floor.

Hermione could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks as she felt the room slowly pull away from her, and she grips Harry's shoulder tightly. And the wind rushes past them so fast it hurts her face, but then everything stopped, and she felt frozen in time.

Hermione had tried to leave him. Hermione didn't care about him. And he was still on fire. Ron loomed over him now, a Cheshire cat smile painted on his face.

"This is for Ginny and Neville and all the others," Ron stated, circling around Tom with a ball of fire flickering in his palm. His eyes though, they were cold orbs dancing in flame. Behind them, Hermione and Harry landed on the floor, unable to teleport.

"Ron, something's wrong, I can't teleport." She slumped to the floor and Harry fell with her. Ron glanced back at her, but turned back to Tom. "Ron, we need to get Harry out of here. We can take him to Hagrid's Auto shop." Torn between avenging his sister and saving his best friend, Ron clenched his fist and the fire went out.

"I'm coming back for you," he jabbed a long finger at Tom, "and next time, I will kill you."

"We'll see about that," Tom seethed with blood gushing onto his teeth. Ron ran to his friends and grabbed a hold of them before teleporting. But they couldn't leave the room. Just like Harry and Hermione had not two minutes ago, the trio crashed to the tiled floor.

"I can't go with you, Ron." Hermione gripped his arm.

"You're coming with us," she began to back away from them, "come on!"

"She can't-I've made it so she can't leave me, not ever." Ron shoved up the sleeves of his jacket, ready to attack, but Tom kept talking. "And don't try killing me. Any harm done to me will now be done to her as well."

"Just go, Ron. Harry's needs to reboot his hard drive." She squeezed his hand.

"I'll save you, I promise."

In a faint whisper, she said, "I've got this one." She released his hand and Ron grabbed Harry before teleporting to Hagrid's hut. When they were gone, Hermione stood in the same spot for a few minutes, numb and trying to process everything.

"See? We really are Hades and Persephone," Tom tried crawling over from his spot but wasn't able to do so.

"You seem to forget that in the ancient Earth myth about them, Hades kidnapped her. She didn't stay by choice."

"Now, we both know that isn't true in this case, don't we Hermione?" She whipped her head around and he could see the tears visible on her face. "There's something in our genome so that once we're both aware we're clones, we can't leave each other. King Hades was away from his wife when she died."

She walks towards him and sinks to the floor beside him. "I lied about the shared injuries bit though; I just didn't want Ron to kill me." She blinks at him through wet eye lashes and holds his hand. "I told you I'd fix this, didn't I?" He wipe away a tear with a bloody thumb and cradles her face.

"But what about Harry and Ron?"

"They'll have to go into hiding until I can kill Grindlewald. After that, well, they can do whatever they want."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I want you to be happy. And if that means they live, well…" She leaned forward to kiss his cheek and cradled the back of his head.

"Thank you."

"We're apex predators, we have to stick together." He consumed the small space between them and kissed her. It was a bloody and chemical kiss that sent sparks through her body. He touched his forehead to hers. "I love you."

"You forgot something though, Tom." His eyelashes tickled her cheek and he gave her a tired smile. The pad of her thumb traced over his bruised lips. "There can only be one apex predator." And with that, she gripped the mouth and the back of his head and jerked it 180 degrees, causing the vertebrae in his neck to snap. He collapsed to the floor with a 'thud'. Hermione stood up and wiped away invisible blood from her hands on her pants.

"I loved you too." Hermione murmurs before teleporting to Hagrid's hut.

The End?