"My dear Ms Granger, how lovely to see you," Tyrion said as he opened the door, gazing up at the young girl in front of him, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"My Lord Tyrion," Hermione began, "I was hoping you might be able to help me."
"Help you with what my dear?" Tyrion ventured. The girl seemed uneasy, her eyes darting from place to place as if searching for something. An action that was not unmissed by Tyrion.
The girl had appeared from nowhere it seemed, but she had soon ingratiated herself within the royal courts, proving to full of even more talent than that snake Baelish. Within a week she had taken his position and nobody seemed to think anything of it. She was loyal and dependable so it seemed.
"I wanted to talk to you about...what you saw a few days ago."
Tyrion allowed himself a smile, trying to disarm her statement. How could she have happened upon this tale? He must really pay more attention to those who listened in when he partook in...private study...with Shae.
"My dear, to what are you referring?" Tyrion queried, continuing to smile through the lie. The girl looked behind her at that moment and closed the door behind her. She pulled out the thin wooden shaft that she often carried with her; she was rarely to be seen without it. She muttered something under her breath and returned it to beneath her robes.
"I'm sorry, my Lord. Please don't lie to me. I don't want to have to use this," she demanded in a more severe voice, to which she seemed to give no heed to the guards outside. At the same time she produced a slim phial of a purple liquid which glittered in the half-light of the tower. Tyrion felt a touch of unease at this. He was sure he could disarm her if required, but he was unclear as to the purpose of the liquid. Perhaps a small measure of wildfire to sustain him under her control?
"What do you require?" he finally breathed after a heavy pause, debating his options.
"I want to know exactly what it was you saw," she ordered, lowering the glass slightly, but she pulled out her carved stick again, holding it at arms length with the tip aimed directly between his eyes.
Tyrion attempted to lunge for it, but a jet of golden light flew from its tip, engulfing him entirely. He felt a peculiar lightheadedness, accompanied by a harsh whispering in the recesses of his mind, which he felt compelled to obey. He found his body laying itself on the floor, clasped by some unseen hand that forced itself onto him. When he made a futile effort to move his limbs, he found they were pinned to the floor, save for a slight twitching motion. The girl stood over him, a darkness in her eyes, which contained a rage he had not seen before. She was clearly not in her usual clement frame of mind.
"Who are you?" Tyrion demanded, scowling at her, "Not you, the thing living inside Hermione. What have you done to her? Leave her alone!" he found himself roaring, but he was still unable to move himself. He did not want to shout for the guards: no harm would come to Hermione, if he could avoid it. She aimed the wand down at him, and without a word he felt the bonds tighten, squeezing the air from his lungs and causing him to cry out.
"Hermione, please," he moaned, struggling to find breath, "I know you're still there. This isn't who you are."
She seemed to falter for a second there, her eyes unclouding for the briefest of moments but then the anger was back, focussed on naught but his death.
"Hermione! Fight against it my dear!" he pleaded, his eyes beginning to bulge grotesquely as his throat closed and his skin broke out into dark black contusions. He kept shouting for her to fight against it, and slowly she seemed to be returning. Eventually, the spell upon her collapsed and she with it, her body crumpling to the ground with a scream. The bonds around him loosed themselves and he began to crawl painfully towards her as she sobbed on the floor.
"Tyrion, I'm sorry. It was Cersei, she put something in my drink and I...I couldn't help it," she spluttered between breaths.
"It is quite alright my dear," he comforted, and found himself looking into her eyes as they embraced. Slowly, tentatively, she pulled herself up to him and kissed him deeply, their lips colliding as the waves with the rock.
"Tyrion," she cried out into him.