Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Forbidden Ship	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 18083 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series nor any of the characters from the books/movies. I don't make money from writing this fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 11
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- 13
A/N: *coughs* I'm so not procrastinating on Prisoner. AM NOT! *hides*

Codes: NoSex, MC. *hides*

xxx

Prompt: Amortentia

It felt like she was floating on the highest cloud. Marvellous. Her face wore that dazed, lovesick expression as she hung on to him for dear life. She'd never let go. He was magnificent, her world, her everything.

She never thought she'd be able to touch him for real. He'd been speaking to her in the softest of whispers for months now. She'd brushed him off in the beginning, told him to shut up.

How wrong she'd been.

How rude, too.

Gradually, she began to see the errors of her ways as he taught her secrets of magic she'd never known existed. Realisation set in that her fear of being not as clever as everyone always claimed her to be became a reality when he showed her how ignorant she truly was, how much she didn't know. She turned quieter and quieter, getting annoyed with Harry and Ron's bickering. They knew nothing; they were getting nowhere, and she was unable to help because she was worthless, too.

Then, Ron ran, breaking her down to tears.

How could he just leave her? Again.

You're nothing but a toy to him, someone to use and toss away, the voice in the locket hissed venomously in her mind.

She knew it to be true and hugged her legs to her chest, sobbing as softly as possible so Harry wouldn't wake.

You can show him; you should show him, Riddle commanded. You got all the ingredients in your bag; unless you're too incompetent to make that, too?

She stood up in a daze and walked back in the tent, watching Harry toss and turn and mutter something incomprehensible in his dream as she took her bag from her bunk. Quietly, she walked outside again. She had to be on gua—make this potion.

Yesssss, this potion needed making.

A vicious smirk, nothing like any expression she'd ever worn, distorted her face and her brown eyes flashed red as she began preparing the ingredients.

Soon, a cauldron was simmering above a crackling fire. Steam rose in spirals from the mother-of-pearl sheen surface of the potion. Her nostrils flared as the scent entered. Freshly mown grass, new parchment and ... was that cat hair?

Abruptly, she swayed on the spot, her eyes turning back to their usual brown softness.

What was she doing? Confused, she looked around. Why was there a cauldron simmering?

Hermione leaned forward, staring at the colour as she breathed in the vapours. Freshly mown grass, new parchment and ... was that the smell of a snake?

No! She didn't smell him when looking at Amortentia. Why was that brewed anyway? She hadn't ... Had he?

Anger filled her.

It was the wrong emotion. Her eyes flashed red and she abruptly reached into her bag, taking out her mug. She dipped it into the potion and moved it to her lips.

You're not escaping me now, Mudblood, he hissed, right before tipping the mug and swallowing it all.

As the potion rushed through her system, the gems on the locket began to glow, brighter and brighter. It emitted a beam of light, showing the outline of a tall figure standing next to her kneeling form. She wanted that person so badly. He had to be here with her. Forever.

The more she desired it, the clearer he became. She saw his jet-black hair framing his pale, handsome face, the burn in those dark eyes occasionally shifting to red, his straight nose, those full lips, that strong jawline, those flowing, black robes that made his skin seem even paler—every detail of him she absorbed without question.

He was here!

WITH HER!

His tall, skinny figure towered over her and she craned her neck, looking up at him with obsession. She wanted him.

He smiled.

It was so beautiful; she almost wept.

"Give me your wand," he said in a smooth, sibilant voice.

She loved that voice; she'd do everything for that voice.

Without hesitation, she held out her wand to him, relishing the moment when his long fingers brushed hers as he took it.

She hoped he'd touch her again. Soon.

He stroked the wood contemplatively, almost caressing it like a long lost lover. She wished she were her wand now.

"Vine," he said barely above a whisper.

She nodded.

"And?"

"Dragon heartstring core," she added hoarsely.

He was talking to her! He acknowledged her existence!

"It'll do," he muttered, waving it around as a test and conjuring several bubbles.

The way he did magic was something unimaginable, unlike she'd ever seen before. It was mesmerising. She couldn't keep her eyes off him and his moves.

He vanquished the bubbles and looked down at her; a mocking expression appeared on his face—she thought he was gorgeous like that.

"What should I do with you now, Hermione Jean Granger?" he whispered contemplatively … tauntingly.

A part of her mind registered all the underlying meanings of his rhetorical question, the threat and the dangers of it, but she didn't care. She wanted to be with him so badly. She'd rather die than be alone, without him, now.

"Take me with you?" she begged, crawling closer and hugging his legs desperately.

This was heaven. She was touching him. She never would let go.

If he let her.

She hoped he would, hoped he would be happy with her, hoped he wouldn't leave her. Fear struck her heart. He could. What if he wanted to?

"Don't leave me, please," she added, looking up that tall frame and meeting those eyes, those beautiful, gorgeous, penetrating, dark eyes.

His face was blank, telling her nothing. Wasn't he happy with her? Pleased? Despair flooded her. He should go if she weren't making him happy. She knew that as long as he were happy, so was she. Even if she couldn't be with him, she'd do anything to make him happy. She'd bear that sacrifice if need be, though she hoped it wouldn't.

Suddenly, he held out his hand.

Joy. She felt absolute joy.

Trembling she reached up and placed her hand in his carefully as if she were afraid this wasn't real, that he could vanish in a heartbeat without her.

His slender fingers curved around her hand gently, before his grasp tightened and he pulled her up into his arms.

Bliss. Absolute bliss.

She stared at him, not believing this was truly happening. He was holding her!

"Hold on tight," he ordered quietly.

He was letting her hold him!

Tentatively, she placed her arms around his neck—barely touching him for fear he'd tell her off about her too daring moves.

"Tighter, or you'll fall," he snarled. "I won't pick up the pieces, Granger."

Quickly, she did as she was told. Pressing herself tightly against him wasn't a punishment. He lifted her up underneath her bum.

"Legs, too."

She immediately complied.

Oh Merlin, she was holding him! He was holding her! They were one!

A shocked yelp left her lips when they were suddenly airborne, and she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder. He smelled so nice, like everything she loved all put together. Closing her eyes she inhaled that delicious fragrance, relished in it. His hand came to rest on the back of her head.

OH MERLIN!

She didn't move as his fingers softly roamed through her bushy curls. This was heaven.

"Hermione!"

Then, his hand was gone, and disappointment filled her. She looked up questioningly, but he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at something behind her, underneath her.

Was someone shouting her name? She knew that voice, recognised the panic in it. However, it didn't matter. It wasn't Him.

He had her wand in his hand, she now noticed. That must have been why he'd let go of her head. Would he do more magic? She liked that a lot.

His arm moved up and down like he cracked a whip, and then, there was a loud explosion.

She didn't care what or whom he'd blown up as long as they were together.

Forever.
- 11
- 12
- 13
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The Forbidden Ship