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The Contract	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 55312 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Hi! New chapter! I don’t have time to answer reviews right now, but I want you to know that I really like getting them! An author always likes to know that her work is appreciated! Or if she can do something even better!

Warning; this chapter contains some torture. If you don’t like it… just ship those parts!

Chapter 14

Hermione felt ashamed.

Voldemort was about to torture her best friend and she had let him fuck her! She had even been happy to let him do it! She showered, dressed and left the bathroom. Voldemort ordered breakfast and they ate in silence. He smiled during the whole meal and Hermione tried not to look at him.

When they had finished, Voldemort made the plates vanish and took her arm. He apparated them away somewhere. When Hermione could see again, she noticed that they were standing on a roof. The roof was filled with cages. Hermione looked on with horror at the corpses in some of them. In one cage, the birds were still picking on a half rotten body. Hermione pressed a hand to her mouth.

“Perhaps I should have told you to close your eyes?” Voldemort asked as he watched her thoughtfully.

Hermione closed her eyes. A moment later, she heard him mumble a couple of spells, among them a disappearing-spell. When she opened her eyes again, all the corpses were gone and a ceiling had appeared over their heads. Voldemort lead Hermione down the line of empty cages until they came to the only one occupied. A thin, black haired boy was sitting in the middle of the cage with his arms over his head. Hermione gasped and was about to touch the cage when Voldemort captured her hand.

“It's cursed. It will hurt you if you touch it,” he said calmly.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Well, break the curse and let me in!”

The boy lifted his head. Hermione recognised her best friend under the dirty face and scabby clothes. He squinted at them. Someone had taken his glasses. Hermione glared at her husband who shrugged and opened the cage door.

“Hermione?” Harry asked doubtfully when she entered the cage.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione kneeled next to him and took his hands. “Can’t you give him back his glasses?”

Harry frowned; Hermione just smiled at him and hugged his hands. Voldemort came up next to them and with a flick of his wand; Harry flew out from her hands and was nailed against the cage wall, his hands tied over his head. He gasped in surprise and pain. Voldemort went to him and placed his glasses on the tip of his nose. Harry watched them in horror. He looked from Voldemort to Hermione, then back to Voldemort and then to Hermione again. He didn’t seem to comprehend with what he was seeing.

Voldemort smiled, conjured a big, comfortable armchair and sat down in it. Hermione stood and made a step toward Harry. However, Voldemort took a grip of her wrist and pulled her roughly into his lap. He put one hand on her stomach and one on her shoulder to make her lean back against his chest. She looked up at him with a frown. He just smiled, it was too late when she realised what he was doing.

He was making Harry freak out.

“What the fuck has he done to you?” The boy-who-lived screamed.

Hermione sat up in her husband’s lap with an alarmed look. She could hear Voldemort chuckle.

“No, Harry, he’s just…”

“Has he made you pregnant?” Harry screamed with a crazy look at her stomach. “Oh, Merlin, you two are shagging, aren’t you?”

Hermione tried to get up from Voldemort’s lap; however, he held her down with his hands on her hips.

“It’s not like that Harry,” she tried to explain. “I had to have sex with him because of the Marriage Contract!”

Voldemort placed his chin on her shoulder. “You didn’t have to have sex with me this morning,” he said smugly.

She pinched his leg. Harry looked at them with wide eyes. “What the fuck is going on?”

Voldemort stood and dumped Hermione in the chair. He walked up to Harry menacingly.

“What my wife doesn’t want to admit is that she is very sexually attracted to me.” He turned toward her with a smile. “And I have to say… she doesn’t look so bad herself. You would fuck her, Potter, wouldn’t you?”

Potter just stared at him with furious eyes. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. She needed to end this. Voldemort was just being evil. She didn’t want Harry to believe she had abandoned him. However, how did you deny the truth?

“Harry,” she said. “It’s not what you think. I hate being here!”

“Ah, but you like the sex,” Voldemort remarked.

Hermione gave him a murderous glare. “Not always. Besides, just because you like one ingredient, doesn’t mean you like the dish.”

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. “Is it the pregnancy that makes you to constantly think about food?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It is just a metaphor.”

He shrugged and turned back to Harry. “I feel that we are really getting to know each other.”

Hermione rose from the armchair and went up to them. “That is not true! Harry knows me much better!”

“I thought I did,” Harry mumbled.

Hermione turned toward her friend with a pleading look. “Please Harry, its just sex. For heaven’s sake, I do have needs!”

“Oh, quite the little lioness, isn’t she?” Voldemort said mockingly.

Hermione ignored him. “Harry, please don’t listen to him. You know the important things. Like, what were my parent’s names?”

“Hugo and Rose, Muggle dentists, born 1939 and 1946,” Voldemort said with a triumph look.

Hermione glared at him. “You only know that because you have a file on them on somewhere.”

“Still, I think it’s important enough to remember.”

“It doesn’t count, you have photographic memory,” she remarked dryly.

“Not really, almost, though.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry knows what they usually gave me for Christmas, and where they took me for vacation, right?” She turned towards Harry.

He nodded, although still seemed doubtful. “Yeah, France and then skiing in the Alps?”

“That’s right.” Hermione nodded. “And you know my favourite colour.”

“Green, but you tell everyone its brown.”

Hermione smiled. “Yes, and you like all colours… except purple.”

He nodded. She could see some hope in his eyes. She glared at Voldemort who just looked amused.

“What’s my favourite fairytale?” she asked.

“Sleeping Beauty,” Harry said with a smile.

“Exactly! You and I like each other and know things about each other. My husband and I are barely able to stand each other,” she said eagerly.

Voldemort let out a snort. Hermione and Harry looked at him.

“I'm just thinking about the irony,” he said.

“What irony?” Hermione asked with a suspicious glare.

He placed his hand on hers. “That you are acting like any of those things matters. All that matters is power.” He took out a knife and placed it in her hand. “And you know who has the power here… Hermione.”

She stared at her husband. He had only said her name one time before and that was when they had first met. Never after that. What was he up to?

“I wish for you to pinch your friend,” Voldemort suddenly said.

Hermione’s eyes widened as she unwillingly turned toward Harry and pinched his arm. Harry’s eyes widened as well and he let out a small groan in surprise.

“What did you do that for?” he asked her.

Voldemort took her hand and kissed it. “Because she is mine, Potter. I can make her do whatever I want.”

Hermione gave him a murderous glare. “Not willingly.”

He smirked. “Oh, I’m not that picky. Go and sit down, I wish you not to interfere with what I’m about to do.”

Hermione didn’t move. He arched an eyebrow in a 'do-I-have-to-wish-it?' way. She sighed and went to sit in the armchair again. Voldemort turned his attention toward Harry. He was tapping his wand against his palm now.

“So many body parts, so little time,” he said thoughtfully. “You see, wife, there are two ways to do a torture-session. You can begin with the most horrible things you know and after that, everything will feel quite painful. Or you could begin with small things and slowly build up the terror and the pain. Guess which way I like the most?” He looked at her over his shoulder with a smile.

Hermione got the feeling she didn’t want to see this. Voldemort obviously wanted to play some sick game, and he had forced her not to interfere. She fisted her hands.

“Answer me,” he ordered as he pulled out a box from the inside of his robes and placed it on a small table he had conjured.

“The second one,” she mumbled.

He smiled again. “You are such a clever little witch. Isn’t she Potter? I just have to ask; how was she in class?”

“Brilliant,” Potter spat. “Much better than you!”

“Ah, isn’t that a little unfair? You have never seen me in class.” Voldemort opened the box. Hermione couldn’t see everything in it; however, most of it seemed to be very sharp. Voldemort took up a hypodermic needle. “We actually had a Healer-class when I went to Hogwarts.”

He took Harry’s bound arm and massaged it so the veins started to show. “This may hurt a little.”

Hermione was quite shocked when she saw Voldemort drawing blood out from Harry. Not much, however, Harry looked a bit green.

“I liked the Healer-class,” Voldemort said as he removed the needle and looked at the tube filled with blood. “Do you know how much knowledge blood contains? In the Muggle world, they can find all sorts of diseases and allergies in blood. In the magical world, you can find out a lot about a person’s magic.”

He placed a small white plate on the table and spilled a little of Harry’s blood on it. After that, he took his wand and mumbled a couple of spells over the blood.

“Interesting,” Voldemort mumbled. “I think I know exactly how I’ll start with you.”

He straightened and placed his wand at his temples. When he pulled it away, a long silvery sting followed. With a fast movement, Voldemort threw the string at Harry. The boy closed his eyes and Hermione watched in horror as his face crumbled in terror.

“What did you do?” she hissed.

Voldemort chuckled. “The boy is in love. You’ll never guess with whom.”

Hermione was about to ask what he meant, however, Harry opened his eyes and stared at Voldemort with hatred in his eyes.

“YOU BASTARD! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” he screamed and tried to wriggle free from the bonds.

“Really, Mr Potter? How?” Voldemort took Harry’s right hand and bent his fingers backwards until they broke. Hermione started to feel a bit sick when Harry screamed. Voldemort took the other hand and did the same thing. “You won’t be able to wave your wand now. Not that you have one.”

“You’re sick,” Hermione whispered. She wanted to go over there and smack his head, but she couldn’t interfere.

Voldemort looked at her. “No dear, I’m practical. If your friend does what I say, I will heal him.”

Hermione closed her eyes, she almost wanted to vomit. Harry was sobbing. She tried to ignore her husband’s voice and instead think of a way to help Harry. She knew Harry would never do what Voldemort wanted. However, there had to be some compromise. She opened her eyes when Harry began to scream again. Voldemort was sitting on his knees at the boy’s feet and… was burning them with his wand.

“So,” Voldemort said softly after a while. “Now you won’t go anywhere.”

Voldemort turned towards the table and took up another object from the box. It seemed to be another needle, bigger and without a tube. Voldemort waved his wand over it and without further warning, pushed it through Harry’s already injured foot. The boy screamed hoarsely.

“Poison has now started to run through you blood. It will slowly paralyze you. In about an hour, the poison will reach your heart and you’ll die,” Voldemort said matter-of-factly. “Unless you want that to happen, you’ll answer my wife’s questions.”

Hermione looked at him. “What?”

Voldemort conjured up a scroll of parchment and gave it to her. She looked at the neat handwriting of her husband.

“What?” she asked again.

“If you manage to get three true answerers out of ten, I’ll heal him,” Voldemort said and helped her up from the armchair.

She pulled back her hand as if he burnt her and looked down at the questions written on the parchment. She sighed. Harry wouldn’t want to answer any of them; she didn’t even think he knew half of the answers. It was questions like Name all mortal allergies the members of the Order has, and What are Dumbledore’s secret ambition?

“Can’t you at least let him lay down?” she asked her husband coldly.

He shrugged and waved his wand at Harry who fell down on the floor with a scream. Hermione glared at him.

“What? You wanted me to let him down.”

Hermione thought about giving him the finger, but decided not to. If he understood what it meant, he may take it literally. She went over to Harry again and clumsily sat down next to him. She placed his head in her lap and tried to comfort him. Voldemort sat down in the armchair.

Harry was lying on his side in a foetal position, nursing his hands.

“I’m so, so sorry, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “I will ask you a couple of questions and if you can answer, he will heal you again.”

“W-what kind of q-questions?” Harry asked and tried to stop sobbing. Hermione had to admire his strength. Harry would never stop fighting.

Hermione looked down at the scroll. “Which members of the Order do you think could turn against the Order if encouraged?”

“No one!” Harry answered quickly. “Not anyone I know, anyway.”

Hermione looked up at Voldemort. He shook his head.

“He answered truthfully,” Hermione objected.

“Not truthfully enough. Take another question.” He crossed his arms.

Hermione sighed and looked down at the scroll again. “What major plans is the Order working with?”

“I won’t answer that!” Harry hissed.

“Crucio,” Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry.

“What are you doing?” Hermione screamed. “Stop it!”

Voldemort did. “Make him answer the question.”

Harry was shuddering in her lap. Hermione brushed away some tears that escaped her eyes. She didn’t want to do this! She had to come up with something!

“Harry. Just tell me something you know. Please.” Hopefully, she could warn Snape about what Harry revealed before it was too late.

“Have you told him everything you know?” Harry muttered.

Hermione glanced at Voldemort who was leaning forward, looking very interested.

“We don’t talk about things like that,” she mumbled. “Please answer the question.”

Voldemort held up his wand again, but Hermione held up her hand.

“Harry, you know you can tell me everything. I can help you.”

Harry just shook his head. Hermione wanted to cry. Why did Harry have to be so stubborn? She didn’t want him to die!

“Ask another question,” Voldemort ordered.

Hermione looked down again. She gave Harry all questions she knew he could answer some thing. Like; who was in the Order? What hiding places did the Order have? Who, besides Dumbledore, were the leaders and why?

However, Hermione couldn’t get any answers out of Harry. Voldemort cast several other curses at Harry, however, nothing helped. He was too bullet-headed. When fifty of the sixty minutes had gone, Harry couldn’t move his legs or stomach.

Hermione looked up at Voldemort. “Please, he won’t answer. Why can’t you just let it be?”

Voldemort got up from the armchair. “I haven’t come this far just to let things be. However, Mr Potter obviously doesn’t care about his own life.” He removed the needle and took up a bottle from the box and made Harry swallow it.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

Voldemort seemed thoughtful. “I wonder if he will be more informative if we hurt someone else.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “You can’t hurt me!”

He rolled his eyes. “I know I can’t. However, I can stand a small headache. Antonin!”

Hermione gasped as a Death Eater Apparated into the cage. She recognised him from the feast at the Malfoy’s. He was wearing plain dark Death Eater robes without a mask. Some may call him handsome; however, Hermione couldn’t help but to notice the cold, cruel eyes. She could see the same look in her husband’s eyes. However, she wasn’t really noticing Voldemort because she didn’t find him half as scary as she had done before they got married. Or perhaps it was the fact that she knew Voldemort couldn’t harm her. Or at least she had thought he couldn’t.

“I wish for you to stand up and lean against the wall,” Voldemort said and pointed at the side of the cage.

Hermione tried to fight his wish, but couldn’t. She got up from Harry who was looking at her in terror.

Voldemort when over to Harry and sank down next to him. “You don’t give me a choice, Potter. I don’t want to hurt my wife, but I need for you to talk.”

Hermione couldn’t see that happened. She heard Dolohov coming up behind her. What would they do? She let out a cry when she felt a burning sensation in her back. Dolohov had whipped her.

“What do you say, Potter?” Voldemort sounded a bit strained, like he was in pain as well. Perhaps he was. She didn’t know how the Contract worked when he wasn’t the one who hit her.

She didn’t have time to think much about it, because another lash came down on her back and she cried out again. She was sure she was bleeding. Another strike and she fell down on the ground. Her head was spinning and she couldn’t hear what was going on around her.

A couple of minutes passed, then two more lashes landed on her back. Hermione was resting on her knees trying not to put too much pressure on her stomach. The child was kicking like mad in there. She wondered if it could feel how scared she was. Probably. She and Voldemort would raise a very neurotic child. Poor thing.

She didn’t know what Harry and Voldemort said. Although, when she didn’t receive any more lashes, she guessed Harry had begun to talk. Someone tore up her robes and she could feel the cold wind on her back. However, the person was very careful, so Hermione didn’t try to move. A hand came up on her back and she flinched. It hurt! Then she could feel something cold and smooth being placed on her back and she relaxed. The burning and stinging disappeared at once and she sat up on her knees, panting from the strain.

A hand gently touched her shoulder. “Do you feel better?” It was Dolohov.

She took a grip of his wrist and pulled him down in a fast movement. Dolohov seemed very surprised when he found himself on the floor next to her. She quickly sat on his chest and started to beat him with her hands fisted.

“Never. Hit. A. Pregnant. WOMAN!” she accentuated every syllable with a punch to the death eaters face. It was easy to pretend he was Voldemort. She wished he was. How dare he use her to get to Harry? She never asked to be in this position.

Fortunately for Dolohov, Voldemort was merciful enough to pull his wife away from him. Although, he was laughing when he did it.

“What a little lioness,” he mumbled into her ear.

Dolohov quickly stood. His nose was broken and he was bleeding from his left eyebrow. He gave Hermione a murderous glare as he corrected his robes.

“You may go, Antonin,” Voldemort said calmly, although he was clearly amused.

“My Lord,” Antonin muttered and bowed before he Apparated.

Hermione wriggled out of Voldemort’s grip and crossed her arms over her breasts. Her robe was almost torn off her body and she didn’t have anything underneath. It was cold. She turned around and saw Harry still sitting on the floor. Voldemort seemed to have healed him. He looked so sad.

She was about to go to him when Voldemort took her arm again. He pulled off his cloak and gave it to her. She took it without a word and placed it around her body.

“You have five minutes,” Voldemort said before he left the cage. He seemed to be a bit worn. Not that she cared. That bastard deserved it.

Hermione frowned, but went over to Harry. “How are you?”

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t stand seeing them hurt you.” Harry said in a toneless voice. “I… I told them everything I k-knew.”

“Its okay, Harry.” Hermione winced as she sat down. She was tired and it was quite difficult to sit down with a big stomach. “What did you tell them?”

“About the hiding places. And who I thought were the greatest assets in the Order.” Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “And who we were planning to recruit. But it won’t stop with that, will it? He will come back tomorrow and make me watch another prisoner being tortured, and I’ll have to answer three other questions. And when I can’t tell him anything more, he’ll kill me.”

“Did he tell you that?” Hermione asked a bit horrified.

Harry smiled unhappily. “He is Voldemort. He doesn’t have to tell me. I know he will. Now he has found my weakness.”

Hermione hugged him. “I’ll speak to him. Offer him something else.”

She could feel Harry sigh against her chest. “If you see Ginny… tell her I forgive her.”

Hermione looked down at Harry. He seemed to have fallen asleep. She removed Voldemort’s cloak and swept it around the boy. She stood up in the same moment as Voldemort came back again. He looked down at Harry and made a grimace. Hermione just took his hand.

“Let’s go,” she mumbled, starting to plan how she would persuade him to free Harry. Perhaps it was time to bring out the bottle of happiness?
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The Contract