Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 14
- 15
- 16
Yay! New, long chapter! But first some review-replays;

Meankitty69; Haha, I don’t think Voldemort thought about that… But perhaps the reason why she didn’t get into labour was because she is a witch and stronger? Oh, well, he won’t torture her more… Not now anyway.

Sjauthor; Ah, yes, quite intense. And you’ll find out in this chapter what Harry forgave Ginny for!

Heidi191976; And here you have more! Hope you like it!

Lyra Aphrodite Moon; Yes, but I did warn you. And if you think that is bad, you should never, ever read history on a university-level. Even I got depressed! And that is about the real world! Humans are evil… But there won’t be many more scenes like this. Or not even a scene like this again… But I’ll put out a warning the next time torture comes up, but don’t worry, it won’t happen until chapter 26 or something… and it won’t be like this. Uhm… unless you think child-birth-scenes are scary…

Enjoy!

Chapter 15

Voldemort could still feel the headache, even if the girl was healed. When she had been hit, he had almost vomited from the pain in his head. He would never torture her again… as long as he didn’t have to.

Nevertheless, it worked. Potter told him what he wanted to know, and now Voldemort also knew how to make Potter talk. The only thing he needed to do now was to find someone Potter cared about.

They Apparated back to their room and the girl fled into the bathroom. Even though he was sure she wanted to be alone, he followed. She took off her ripped robe when he entered and was about to fill the bathtub with water. He could see her freeze when she heard him.

“Let me know when you are done so I can apply a healing cream. I don’t want you to get scars,” he said softly. He was very pleased with her.

The girl sighed and looked down at the water running into the tube. “Harry said that he forgives Ginny. What did he mean by that?”

Voldemort couldn’t resist smiling. “Oh, that. Your little Weasley friend was the one who told us where Potter would be around Christmas. He told her that he wanted to visit his parents’ graves. It wasn’t hard to capture him once he got there.”

The girl’s shoulders sank. “So that was why I couldn’t take her home earlier?”

“Exactly. I’m a bit surprised she didn’t tell you about that. Perhaps she was ashamed.”

His wife turned off the water and her hand came up to her face so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“Are you crying?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes,” she said in a low voice.

He frowned, got up to her and made her turn around. “Why?”

She looked up at him. “Because I’m married to a monster! What will you do with Harry?”

“Why? Any suggestions?” He smiled and his hand came up to her cheek to brush her tears away.

She bit her lip. He looked at her more closely. Her skin seemed almost golden in this light. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying and she just appeared so small and sad. The only thing big was the stomach. He didn’t really like it; nevertheless, in just three months she would hopefully be back to her normal slim size.

“You could let him go,” she whispered.

“No, I can’t. I have tried to kill him since he was a baby, I won’t let him go now.” His hand stroked her hair. “You’ll just have to accept that you can’t save all your friends.”

She pushed him away. “Get out.”

He crossed his arms. “I try to be nice…”

“Get out, get out, GET OUT!” she screamed and pushed him outside and locked the door.

Voldemort stared at the closed wooden door in front of him. What was wrong with her? Sure, he had ordered someone to whip her, and was planning to kill her friends, but she should be used to it by now. Perhaps it was the pregnancy. Yes, it must be. He had read that some women could get a very bad temper during their pregnancy. That must be it.

He sighed and went to the sofa instead. He was tired and the sofa seemed very comfortable. Soft.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next moment, he could feel something wet and cold drop down on his face. His hand flew out and he griped something and pulled it down against him. A body? A very wet body…

“What are you doing?”

He blinked the sleep out from his eyes and noticed his wife sitting on top of him. She looked at him with an angry glare. Voldemort smirked and his arms came around her.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered.

She tried to break free. He didn’t let her; he just sat up with her in his lap. He inhaled the smell of her hair. He was having a very good day today and couldn’t help but to enjoy the things he liked. Or perhaps he was just still a bit sleepy. He didn’t feel as paranoid as usual.

“You said you wanted to apply some ointment,” she reminded him.

“Right.” He sighed and helped her up. “Go and lay down on your… I want to say stomach; however, I’m not sure you’ll be able too.”

“And who's fault is that?” she mumbled as she went to the bed and lay down on her side.

He took a tube from the table and went over to the bed. He slowly applied the cream over her back. It was almost healed now. The scars would be gone by tomorrow. He shuddered a little when he remembered her screams. It was something about screams that made him feel… in control. Control was good.

“You are done,” he said softly.

She rolled over to her back and placed her hands on her stomach. He looked down at it and frowned. Something was moving under her skin. He could see it clearly.

“Is it supposed to do that?” he asked.

The girl looked down at her stomach and the moving. “Why not? I think he or she has hiccups.”

“The child is only six months old!” he objected and touched her stomach. He could feel it move under his hand. It felt weird.

“So? You do know that it is a small human in there, right?”

He scowled. “Of course I do. I put it in there.”

“That you did,” she scoffed. “Why didn’t you want an abortion?”

“Because the child can be more useful for me alive than dead. Why do you ask? Do you want to get an abortion?

She sighed. “It’s a very hard question. I do believe that sometimes it’s crueller to let the child live than to get an abortion. It’s not like the child is aware of what is happening anyway.”

“How do you know that?” Voldemort asked and slowly stroked her stomach. He was, against his will, fascinated by the fact that a little human was inside his wife.

“Well, you have to know the difference between life and death to know that you are alive to begin with. I didn’t really get that until I was… four perhaps. When did you realise that you were going to die one day?” she asked.

He froze and removed his hand from her stomach. “I’m not going to die. Not after I have the Cup.”

She sighed. “Right. You know, there are worse things in life than death.”

“How do you know that? You have never died.” He stood and heard her sigh.

“Fine. We will never understand each other.” She sat up. “Could you give me my robe?”

He didn’t answer, just went to the wardrobe and took out an ordinary black robe and threw it at her. He didn’t like how she brought up unpleasant things when they talked. It made him uncomfortable. Good thing she dropped the subject so fast. He wanted to stay in a good mood.

She put on the robe and waddled over to the sofa. He shook his head behind her and couldn’t help but smile. She looked silly when she walked. She was small so her stomach was already showing a lot. He wondered what it would be like when she was in her eighth month.

“Lolly,” she called out. A small House-Elf appeared. Voldemort went to the bookshelves as his wife ordered lunch. Even if he knew all his House-Elves, he didn’t like them. Sure, they were excellent servants, but they were so… chirpy. It gave him a headache.

While his wife waited for the food, Voldemort quickly went to his study which was next to their room. The girl didn’t have access to it, neither did his servants. He held most of his important things there. Like papers on all his Death Eaters, reports from his spies, spells and curses he was working on. He had put several security spells on the room, so in case there was an accident, or he had to run away, all the things could be stored and transported in a matter of seconds.

However, now he had something else in the room. His wife’s Christmas present. It was a very personal gift and he had many reasons to why he wanted to give it to her. The first reason was simple, although he was a Dark Lord; he knew that he couldn’t keep people locked up forever. They had a tendency to go mad by it. Either you killed them or you gave them some freedom. Since he had to live with his wife, he didn’t want her to go mad. With this gift, he could allow her to leave… once in a while.

The second reason was also simple. He wanted to know what his wife was up too. Not the trivial stuff, like what kind of dinner she ate, or how much toilet paper she used. He wanted to be sure she didn’t do anything bad. This gift would be able to tell him if his wife had done something he didn’t like.

The third reason was practical. He had put a spell on the gift so he would be able to talk to his wife through it if he wanted to.

The last reason was not as sentimental as it sounded. This gift would make sure no one harmed her. Or, if someone did harm her, he or she would never be able to do it again. This gift was quite deadly. He wanted to make sure his wife was safe even if he wasn’t around. If someone should kill her, it would be him.

He took the gift in his hands and went back to their room. The girl was already eating. He wondered if she, like him, used to check her food for poison before she ate. Probably not, she was so naïve. Good thing the gift would be able warn her about poisons as well.

“I have a gift for you,” he said softly and held up his hands.

The girl looked up and… screamed. She flew up from the couch quicker than he had thought was possible and jumped up on table. He frowned and looked down at the small serpent he was holding in his hands. It was an ordinary copperhead, quite toxic. It was reddish and only one foot long. It would grow another foot or two, and it would get a bit thicker (now it was like a small woman’s wrist). Even if he would never say it to anyone, he thought it was quite cute for a serpent. Why did she scream like that?

“What… Is… That?” she stuttered, her eyes wide.

Voldemort patted the serpent’s head. “This is your Christmas gift. I have trained her myself. She is very well behaved.”

He took a step toward her. She held up her hands and was about to fall off the table as she stumbled backwards. “A snake. It’s a snake! You want to give me a snake? Of course you do… an ordinary husband would give me flowers and jewellery, but no, the great Lord Voldemort has to give me a fucking snake!”

He arched his eyebrows. “Are you afraid of serpents?”

“Are you kidding?” she jumped off the table and started to walk backwards. “I know it’s silly and… girlish… but I can’t help it!”

Voldemort took a couple of steps toward her; he had not expected this. She yelped, ran to the bed and hid under the covers. He rolled his eyes, now she was just silly.

He placed the serpent on the table and told it to stay there. Sighing, he went over to the bed and sat down. She shrieked when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” he snarled. “I don’t have it with me.”

“Do you promise?” came her muffled voice from under the cover.

“Yes.”

She peeked up. He held out his hands to show her that he didn’t have anything. She put the covers down and took a couple of deep breaths.

“The snake won’t harm you,” he said, trying to be nice. He hadn’t meant to scare her. Although, he would look back at this and laugh when he got some time alone. “She will protect you.”

“Can’t you just give me a dog or something?” she mumbled.

“Dogs aren’t poisonous, girl,” he said with a smile. “Just let me introduce you.”

He placed an arm around her waist and another on her hand and led her toward the table. “Her name is Besch, she is an northern copperhead, only two years old. She should be asleep this time of the year, but I have cast a little spell on her, to keep her nice and warm.”

He made her sit down on the sofa. The serpent was still on the table, looking at them with interest. Since he was a Parselmouth, it had been easy to train her. These kind of serpents only did a “warning attack” if someone was foolish enough to disturb them. Besch was trained to attack anyone who behaved aggressively against his wife. Except for him, of course. Besch was also, with magic, trained to understand human speech. If the girl did or say anything suspiciously, the serpent would know and then report to him. It was really a piece of cake. If he could get his wife to accept the gift.

“Just say hi,” he said to his wife.

“Hi,” the girl said slowly.

Voldemort took up the serpent and started to speak with it in Parsel. “This is my precious, she is afraid. Do not tease her.”

The girl gasped. He realised she had never heard him speak in Parsel before. He was about to explain what he just said when she opened her mouth.

“Why do you call me your precious?”

He stared at her. “I did not…”

“Yes you did! Just now, to the snake! I heard you.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Why haven’t you told me you speak Parsel?”

“I don’t,” she looked astonished. “I don’t even understand it. Or I didn’t. I have heard Harry talk it, but…”

He looked just as shocked. “I… precious is what the serpents call their wives. I was just talking in a way she would understand!”

She just shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this. How can I understand what you are saying?”

Voldemort took up the copperhead. “Say hello.”

The serpent looked at the girl. “Hello.”

She let out a tiny shriek. Voldemort couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Close your eyes,” he told her and took her hand.

“Why?” she asked and closed her eye. He was a bit surprised that she did what he told her right away. Did she trust him? Perhaps it was only because she knew he couldn’t harm her.

“Just relax.” He slowly brought her hand toward the snake.

She winced when her fingertips came in contact with the serpent.

“It’s nothing to be afraid off,” he said in his nicest voice. He really needed her to accept the snake. Otherwise he would have to come up with a new way to watch her every move and he didn’t have the time. “What does it feel like?”

“Like silk. Quite warm,” she said slowly, her eyes still closed.

“Why are you so afraid of it?” he asked softly.

“Because… they look so scary. Especially when they are moving.” Her hand was around the serpent now, she was trembling. He removed her hand.

“Open your eyes,” he said.

She did. They were a bit glassy, and her face was pale and sweaty. At least she didn’t try to flee.

“Just sit here and watch her for a moment,” he mumbled and kissed her cheek, trying to calm her down. “She won’t bite you.”

He rose, but she took a grip of his arm. He sighed. “Don’t try my patience, girl. I don’t like clinging people. I will just be by the bookshelves.”

She let out a small whimper and let go of him. He straightened his robe and got over to the bookshelf. He hated riddles, and he wanted to know why the girl suddenly understood Parsel. He had a theory, but he needed to verify it. The girl couldn’t speak Parsel, but there was some ways to let people understand other languages. It could be done by spells and potions. However, he was quite sure she wasn’t under any spell or potion. So there had to be something else. His guesses were on the baby.

Since it was his child, he or she would probably understood Parsel. Perhaps his wife subconsciously borrowed their child’s ability. It was a long shot, although he had heard of other mothers who “borrowed” their children’s ability during the pregnancy.

Perhaps his child was very powerful.

Voldemort pulled out a couple of books about childbirth. He had bought them when they found out that they were expecting a baby. Before that, he hadn’t known a thing about children or childbirths. It had never been on his agenda. Even if he hated the fact that he would become a father, he wanted to know everything about it. He had always been like that, wanting to know everything.

After a while, he found something of value. It turned out that mothers somehow managed to understand the languages that would be important for the child. There was a long magical explanation about how this worked, and it had mostly been documented with human mothers who became pregnant by a non-human; a giant, a merman, a vampire or something like that. The mothers learned the languages so they could understand and protect their child. It had never been documented with a Parselmouth, because they were quite rare.

Voldemort closed the book with a sigh. It seemed his wife would understand Parsel from here on. Then he would have to be careful. He spoke quite freely with serpents because he knew no one else would understand. Like when he had called his wife “precious”. It was true that serpents called their mates “precious”, but he could just as well have called her his mate. It was just… the word had just rolled off his tongue. She wasn’t his precious!

“Well?” he asked when he got back to his wife who was still sitting on the couch with her eyes on the serpent. “What do you say?”

“Will she get very big?”

“No, four feet at the most.”

“It’s quite big.”

He sat down on the couch and chuckled. “Not for a serpent. I once met one who was thirty-three feet long.”

She gripped his arm. “Not in this part of the world, right?”

He looked down at her. “You get clingy and stupid when you are scared.”

She scowled and let go of him. “Well, we’ll see what you’ll be like when you have to face something you fear.”

“I don’t fear anything.”

“Except death.”

He didn’t answer that.

xxx

A couple of days after Christmas, everything went back to normal. Voldemort disappeared during the day and Hermione spent most of the time in the library with her new pet. She got cold and sweaty every time she saw it, although she didn’t try to run anymore. She could even touch it with her eyes open. She also found herself talking to the serpent. It still surprised her that she could understand what Besch was saying, even if she didn’t say a lot. Besch was more content with lying in the sun and just listing to Hermione talking out loud when she found something in a book. Voldemort believed she was still searching for the Cups, but Hermione had a new mission. She was going to save Harry.

It was a very silly mission because Voldemort wasn’t even considering sparing Harry’s life. Only if Harry wanted to join the Death Eaters could he consider it. Another problem was that she wasn’t certain Harry wanted to live. She knew he hated the fact that he was betraying the Order. Voldemort had told her how he managed to get three more answers out from Harry just the other day. Hermione had been very angry with her husband and it ended with her taking a long relaxing bath and him not returning until the night after.

However, she had another problem as well.

Hermione was sitting in the library with her eyes closed. Her hand was between her legs, massaging her clit. It only took her a minute to work herself to climax. She came with a low groan and then dried off her hand on the inside of her robe. She leaned back in the chair, the sudden horniness gone, but still feeling unfulfilled.

The serpent hissed in curiosity.

Hermione sighed. “My hormones are running around like mad inside my body,” she tried to explain. “One minute, I just have to eat cucumbers, and the next I feel very… needy. But since my husband is a prick, I have to deal with it myself.” She sighed again and Besch let out a serpent-laugh.

“It’s not so funny,” Hermione muttered. “I can barley reach myself anymore. My stomach is too big.”

She moved the book closer to her again and tried to focus on a way to save Harry. However, it seemed to be quite useless. She didn’t even have a wand! Besides, she was sleepy.

The book fell down in her lap as she closed her eyes. She was just about to doze off when the door to the library banged open. She jumped in her seat, her eyes wide. No one ever entered the library when she was there. Who could it be? She was sitting at the end of the library, so the shelves were effectively hiding her. However, she could hear upset voices.

“It’s not negotiable, Reya.” Was that Lucius Malfoy’s voice? He was one of the few who had access to the library but what was he doing there?

“Please Lucius! I need it! You know I’ll do anything…” It was a woman’s voice. Hermione was sure she had heard it before, but she couldn’t remember where. The woman sounded desperate and tearful.

“Anything isn’t good enough, since there is so little you can do. However…” Lucius hesitated. “Fine, on your knees, girl.”

Hermione got up from the chair. All she could hear was clothes being moved. She tiptoed to the small pathway between the shelves, but couldn’t see anything. She was about to sneak to the next shelf when she heard moans coming from Lucius. Hermione wrinkled her nose. They were having sex. That was so unfair.

Turning her head away, she went back to the table. She had nothing to do with it. If Lucius wanted to bang someone in the library, she couldn’t stop him. If he had forced himself on the woman, Hermione would have done something. However, this was clearly some business thing. A year ago, Hermione would probably have done something anyway, but not now. Not when she herself had used her body to try to get what she wanted. She understood the woman Lucius was with. If you were desperate, you could do almost anything.

Lucius moans got stronger. Hermione tried not to listen. It took him about five minutes to finish.

“I have a friend who may be able to get you what you need. I’ll speak with him,” Lucius finally said, a bit hoarsely. “Are you sure you have the money?”

“Of course,” the woman sounded hoarse as well. Hermione suddenly understood what kind of sexual act they had engaged it.

“Good. And if my friend would like some services…?”

“You know what I do, Lucius.” The woman sounded bitter. Hermione realised this wasn’t the first time something like this happened.

“Excellent. I’ll contact you sometime next week. There is a Floo over there; it will take you to the Apparation point. If you excuse me, I have some business to attend to.” Hermione heard him walk away and a moment later a door close.

Hermione prepared to hide under the table. The Floo was just next to where she sat and she didn’t want to be seen. However, nothing was heard for over a minute, then…

“SON OF A BITCH!” Something heavy fell down on the floor. Then Hermione could hear crying.

She frowned and got up from the chair. Besch hissed a warning to her, she ignored it. She went toward the noise. A red-haired woman was sitting on the floor next to a pile of book. Hermione’s eyes widened when she recognised her.

“Miss Radcliff?” she gasped.

The other woman looked up, her eyes went wide and a small flush crept up on her cheeks. She stood up and straightened her robe. “Mrs Riddle? Uhm… I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

“I-I didn’t want to interrupt,” Hermione blushed as well, uncomfortable to see someone else blush. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just… Malfoy and I have… well… I just need his help with… ah, never mind.” Miss Radcliff, or Reya as she was obviously called, started to walk toward the fire.

Hermione took a hold of her wrist. “Wait.”

Reya looked down at Hermione’s hand and Hermione let go of her. “I just… Perhaps I can help you.”

The older woman smiled sadly. “You are sweet, Mrs Riddle. Too sweet.”

Hermione frowned. “What do you mean?”

Reya sighed. “Look. ‘Helping’ each other is just not what we do here. It’s all about power. I have very little power, but if I accept help from you, the little power I have will disappear. Everyone will know that I went to a Mud… sorry, Muggle-born for help. Even if she is married to the Dark Lord.”

Hermione was actually hurt. What was wrong with doing a good deed? “Sorry.”

Reya just shook her head and placed a strand of red hair behind her ear. “No, don’t be sorry. Now you have power.”

Hermione arched her eyebrows. “I do?”

“Yes. Information is power. What do you think Narcissa would do if she found out Lucius have a little too much fun in the library? Adultery is not very popular among pure-bloods. At least not when some else founds out.” Reya winked.

Hermione tilted her head. “Aren’t you helping me now?”

Reya snorted. “No, I can’t do anything with that information, but I’d love to see Lucius suffer. Besides, exchanging favours is also something we do.”

“Oh.” Hermione’s mind was spinning. Deep down, she knew this, however, it was nice to have it spelled out. It was easier to play the game if you knew the rules. “So, now that you have done me a favour, I can do you a favour. Perhaps I know the name of Malfoy’s friend. What do you need him for?”

“Medicine,” Reya answered. “A potion.”

Hermione couldn’t help but to smile. “Then Malfoy must have thought about Professor Snape.”

“Snape? That bat-like man who was with us in Switzerland?”

Hermione nodded. She could see how the wheels in Reya’s mind were spinning.

“Ah. I see. Thank you, Mrs Riddle.” She made an attempt to leave again.

Hermione stopped her, again. “Could I perhaps stop by in your bookshop? I would like to talk more about this… society.”

“Sure!” Reya seemed to be happy again. “Take care!”

“You too.” Hermione watched as the other woman disappeared through the fire. She was very… strange. Hermione sighed and went back to her books. Perhaps she needed to look at this Harry-problem from another angle. If she could get power over Voldemort… hmm…
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The Contract