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Beware of Strangers in Shabby Pubs	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 20143 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't make any money of this. Everything you recognise belongs to JK Rowling!

Chapter List
- 1-Beware of Strangers in Shabby Pubs
- 1
Hi there! This is just a small one-short I have been working on. Thought it was time to post it night. Enjoy!

Beware of Strangers in Shabby Pubs

Not knowing where to go or what to do, Hermione Granger fled into a dark shabby pub in the slum of London. Breathing heavily, she sank down at a table in one of the dark corners. She rested her head against her hands and tried to calm down.

The rain had made her search refuge in this dark pub. She realised that she needed some sort of plan. As she sat there in the corner, her brain began to function again. She couldn’t stay in England. She was a hunted woman now.

“Rough night?” A big glass filled with dark beer was placed in front of her.

She looked up and saw a man sit down at the opposite side of the table.

Hermione let out an unhappy laugh. “You could say so.”

The man, dark-haired with pale skin, made a gesture for her to drink. Hermione didn’t drink very much, however, that didn’t stop her from taking the glass and swallowing a mouthful. It was bitter, but she continued to drink. The running had made her thirsty.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the man asked when she finally placed the glass on the table again.

Hermione sighed. “What can I say? My whole world has fallen apart. I don’t know…” She could feel some tears escape her eyes. “Sorry, I don’t mean to-”

He gave her a tissue. “Please, I would love to hear your story. It seems like you need to talk.”

Some more tears fell down on the table. “I have been on the run with my friends for almost four months…” Without really noticing it, Hermione began to tell the story about how she, Harry and Ron had tried to find a way to defeat the Dark Lord. At first, it was hard to find the right words. She thought the man was a Muggle, so she didn’t want to reveal any secrets. Although, after a while she stopped caring about it. It felt so nice to just talk about it. She opened her heart to this stranger and spilled out everything. After almost an hour, she fell quiet. Two empty glasses were now standing in front of her. The man had given her another one while she was talking and she had taken sips from it now and then. Her head felt quite dizzy and she wanted to sleep.

“It’s a remarkable story, Hermione,” the man finally said.

Hermione frowned. She didn’t remember telling him her name… oh, well. Perhaps she had.

He rose and held out his hand. “I think you need some sleep. I have rented a room. You are welcome to stay.”

Hermione took his hand and followed him to a couple of stairs. He led her into a room and locked the door behind him. She didn’t realise what he was doing. Instead she sank down on a bed that didn’t seem to have been cleaned in the last couple of decades. The man sat next to her and helped her out of with her shoes, jacket and jeans. Then he let her crawl under the covers.

The alcohol and the exhaustion made her fall asleep the moment her head touched the dirty pillow. She didn’t see the man remove his wand from his pants. She didn’t hear when he cast several spells over the room. She didn’t feel how the sheets became clean and warmer. She just slept on.

When she woke up again, the man was sitting at the end of the bed. However, he didn’t look like he did yesterday. Not at all. His hair had disappeared, along with all his human face lines. His face was serpent-like and his eyes were glowing red. Hermione opened her mouth to scream, but he was on top of her in a moment, holding her down against the mattress.

“No need to scream, Hermione. No one will be able to hear you. Just stay calm and this will be very quick and painless.”

Hermione took a deep breath. “W-what are you t-talking about?”

He smiled. “Do you know who I am, Hermione?”

“Of course I do,” she whispered. “You are him… V-Voldemort.”

“Good. Then I’m certain you are aware of what I’m capable of?”

She nodded.

“Excellent. Then you won’t make the mistake to try and run away.”

She shook her head. He finally let go of her. He sat up and she sat up as well.

“Why?” she asked.

“Why what? You need to be more specific,” he had an unpleasant smile on his face.

“W-why are you here?” she asked, moving as far from him as possible in the bed. She knew it would just be stupid to run, but she didn’t want to be close to him.

Voldemort was sitting with his legs crossed. “Isn’t that obvious? I am here because of you!”

Hermione could feel the sweat running over her back. “What do you want from me?”

He watched her silently for a couple of moments. “I’m here with you… because I want you to become one of my Death Eaters. I seldom take a Mudblood into my arms, so you should feel very honoured.”

Hermione still couldn’t believe that he had been the sympathetic man she met last night. What did he mean when he said that he wanted her to become a Death Eater?

“I… Why me?” she knew she sounded pathetic and scared, but then again, he was the Dark Lord, he was probably used to it.

“I’m glad you asked,” Voldemort began to crawl toward her. “There are many reasons. One, I have seen you fight; two, I have heard about your cleverness; third, I know your ambitions.” He was on top of her again, but this time he didn’t touch her. His nose wasn’t even an inch away from hers, his presence was very intense. She could feel her heart in her throat. “You told me last night, you wanted to be someone. Do something that everyone would remember.”

“I…” Hermione didn’t know what to say. She stared into his glowing red eyes.

“You yourself said it last night,” he whispered. “Without Potter, you are no one. Just a Mudblood. If you don’t leave this country, my Death Eaters will hunt you down and make you beg for death. If you leave the country, you’ll never be able to forgive yourself.”

“But…” Hermione swallowed. “If I… You are evil.”

“Evil?” Voldemort leaned closer to her. She could feel his breath on her lips. “But I could make you feel so good-”

Hermione let out a small cry of surprise when his lips came crushing down on hers. He took it as an invitation to stick his tongue inside her mouth. Hermione could feel the blood rushing around in her body. His hands came up to her neck and he forced her further down on the bed. His body covered hers and his hand moved down over her arm. His mouth moved from hers and down to her neck. He sucked it, hard.

One of his hands had disappeared from her body, but she stopped wondering about it when his mouth came up to hers again. Merlin, the man kissed like a god! She couldn’t stop a moan from forming deep in her throat. He smirked against her lips and in the next moment, they were lying naked together in the bed.

Hermione gasped and pushed him off. She tried to cover her nudity with the covers of the bed. Voldemort was smiling at her.

“What…?” Hermione tried not to look at his naked body and semi-erected cock. “I-”

“Hermione,” he interrupted her. “You have nothing left. Without me, you’ll be dead before the day is over. Only I can help you now.”

Hermione’s heart was beating furiously inside her chest. “What do you want from me?”

His left hand went down to his cock. He stroked it slowly. “For now, I think it’s quite obvious. Later… Well, we will talk about it then.”

She couldn’t take her eyes from the hand stroking the cock. His fingers were pale, long and elegant. His cock was just as long, but thicker and purplish. She swallowed.

“But…,” she hesitated.

“I know you want this.” His voice was harsh. “I felt it in your kiss. You want this as much as I do!”

Hermione swallowed again. Voldemort didn’t give her time to reply. He attacked her with his hands and mouth. Hermione fell backwards with a gasp. His lips were on her right breast. It felt too good to be real. He licked, nibbled and kissed the flesh of her left breast. She could feel some lubrication run down her legs. She closed her eyes as he went for the nipple. His right hand found her left breast and he massaged it quite roughly. She couldn’t stop another moan.

When he heard it, he left her breast and moved upwards. He kissed her hard.

“Lord Voldemort always knows, Hermione,” he whispered when he let go of her mouth. “He knows what you want.”

She whimpered. How could this be happening? How could she be in bed with Lord fucking Voldemort? How could he feel so good?

As if he had heard her thoughts, he kissed her again. His hand moved over her body and down to her thighs. He pressed his thumb hard against her clit. The pleasure was so intense she pressed her legs together. Voldemort let out a laugh and rubbed his thumb against her sensitive spot a couple of times. When she thought she wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, he moved his thumb downwards and pressed it inside her. Hermione moved her hips upwards to meet him as he slowly pressed inside finger after finger. She was no virgin, but when he finally had all five fingers inside of her, she felt almost as if it were her first time. However, the pain wasn’t enough to cause her any distress. After only a couple of thrusts with his fist, she climaxed.

She lay there, panting for a while. When she opened her eyes, she saw Voldemort sitting beside her, slowly licking his hand with closed eyes. Her eyes fell down to his cock which was rock hard. She could feel herself starting to throb again. All thoughts about before were blown away. Something very primal was controlling her now.

Voldemort opened his eyes and let his hand fall down to his cock. “Do you want it?” he whispered.

She nodded with her eyes on the very impressive erection. He was stroking it slowly with his wet hand. Hermione decided that he needed help with that. She placed both her hands on it and moved it started to massage it. Voldemort smirked and let out a small gasp when one of her hands travelled down to his sacs.

“Turn around,” he said after almost five minutes.

Since she had become quite horny off of pleasuring him, she didn’t even think about objecting. When she had turned around, he grabbed her hips and pushed inside her. Hermione let out a long moan. If he had looked big before, it was nothing against what he felt inside of her. Hermione didn’t think she had ever felt this full before. However, it was very pleasant. Very, very pleasant.

He started to rock inside her with short fast thrusts. His balls smacked against her in a very satisfying way and for a moment Hermione wondered if she had died and gone to heaven. She closed her eyes. For a specialist in torture, he really knew a lot about pleasure as well. His hands came up to her hair and he tugged it with just enough force to make the pain enjoyable.

“Merlin, Hermione. You are not only clever, you feel like a goddess. Squeeze your muscles around me,” he ordered, his voice thick with arousal.

She did what he said and he let out a groan and began to move faster. His hand came around her and he started to play with her clit again. At the same time, he managed to change the angle and push right into her sweet spot. Her second climax was there before she could blink.

Before she had time to come down from her orgasm, he changed their position so she was lying on her back. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and began to fuck her with such fire it would make a dragon jealous. His free hand moved to her breast again and he started to play with it. Hermione was just lay there, gasping for breath. How could anyone survive this much bliss?

He pushed right into her sweet spot several times and it didn’t take long before she received her third orgasm. She didn’t even notice that he came as well, or that he had sunken down beside her.

“Happy anniversary,” Voldemort said, still a bit breathless.

“Happy anniversary indeed,” Hermione purred and placed an arm around her lover. “Was the fantasy to your satisfaction?”

He smirked. “Oh, yes, you were very believable. Almost like the first time we met.”

Hermione giggled. “Yes… twenty years and you haven’t broken our agreement.”

“Do I hear regret?”

“No, not at all. It was a fair trade.” Hermione stroked his chest. “Do you regret it?”

“No. You promised me that you would find something more fun to do than to ruling the world and you did.” He stroked the side of her body. “So, what now?”

“We could dig up a mystical pyramid in the Sahara,” she said with a smile. “That would keep us occupied for months.”

“Oh, and you could play the innocent archaeologist and I the mummy who captures you and shows you the old ways of sex,” Voldemort said thoughtfully.

“You have the most wicked of fantasies,” she said with a snort.

“Only with you, Hermione. Only with you.”
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Beware of Strangers in Shabby Pubs