Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 58981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Happy Midsummer everyone! Sorry for the delay in updating. I want to thank all of you for reading and reviewing! Special thanks to Nerys and Serpent in Red for betaing.

WARNING! Mild smut. Don’t like? Don’t read!

Chapter 14
Hermione didn’t want to open her eyes. If she opened her eyes, she would have to see Voldemort again and remember what she had done. She didn’t know what had made her act that way.
Or, well, she kind of did. The torture had been horrible, but when it ended, it seemed to go straight down to her clit.
Which was sick on so many levels that she wanted to crawl under a rock and never show herself again. It was humiliating how much she craved him. Even now, when she was satisfied and had him naked on top of her, his now soft cock still inside her, she wanted him. When he left, it felt like he took a part of her with him. An important part. Merlin, she hated him for making her feel like this.
Her unhappy thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. She squealed and pushed him off her.
“Give me my wand,” she ordered, trying not to look at his handsome body.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked with a frown.
“Yes, I just forgot. I promised Ginny to go and look at locations for the wedding today.” Hermione hit her forehead. “Shit, shit, shit!”
Voldemort arched an eyebrow at her as she tried to gather her clothes, which were more than a little torn. Another knock was heard, louder.
“Well?” she asked him, finally looking directly at him.
He was frowning. “You wish to go with Ginevra?”
“Of course! I have to. Ginny is counting on me to help her decide. Give me my wand back.”
“And you don’t feel like we should talk about what just happened between us?”
She stared at him, a blush creeping up her face. No, she wanted to run as far away from him as possible. Or well … not really. She wanted to jump him again and then run as far away as possible. Or maybe …
“We can talk later,” she finally said. “Give me my wand. I have to wake Althea as well and …”
Voldemort picked up his own wand, which had rolled a few feet away from them during the act. With a wave of it, her wand appeared.
“I’ll look after Althea.”
She scowled at him. “If you believe that I'll leave you alone with my daughter ...”
“Our daughter,” Voldemort reminded her, crossing his arms over his chest. “It's not like you haven't left me alone with her before. Besides, after what she went through today, it would be close to child abuse if you’re going to drag her around all day long. And you know she doesn't handle Apparition well.”
Hermione felt like he had slapped her. Of course, it was all true, but …
A third knock was heard, followed by a muffled “Hermione?”
She felt torn. What should she do? Since she had promised Ginny to help, she didn’t feel comfortable breaking her promise by saying she couldn’t go. However, if Voldemort stopped her, what could she do? Besides, she didn’t really want to leave Althea alone with him ...
Voldemort waved his wand again, cleaning and dressing them both.
“If you let Althea stay here with me, she will sleep for a few more hours before I make us dinner. After the magical diarrhoea, she needs the rest as well as healthy food. She is my daughter, too. Nothing bad will happen to her. As long as you don’t try anything stupid, that is.”
As he spoke, every word, gesture and expression screamed his sincerity. He seemed to really mean what he was saying. But there was also an underlying threat. If she didn’t agree to his proposal, she probably wouldn’t like the outcome. However, if he wouldn't hurt Althea, leaving her with him could probably work. Especially for Althea. With a grimace, she nodded and rushed to the door to open it for Ginny.
“Hi,” Hermione said in a fake chipper voice. “I’ll just grab my handbag, and then, we can—”
Ginny, however, only nodded and rushed inside before Hermione even had time to finish her sentence.
“I really, really have to pee. Harry was in the shower when I got home, and really, how long can a man take?” She threw her bag on the floor. “Anyway, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but I thought that maybe I could—” Ginny silenced when she spotted Marcus standing by the seating area.
“Oh.” Her eyes travelled from Voldemort to Hermione and back to Voldemort again. Finally, they came to rest on Hermione like she were really seeing Hermione for the first time. “Oooh.”
“Hello, there, Miss Weasley.” Voldemort looked a bit uncomfortable, but Hermione was quite sure it was an act. What for, she had no idea.
“Oh, hello,” Ginny said, a smug smile appearing on her face.
Hermione did not care for the metaphoric lightbulb that flashed above Ginny's head. To save face, she just said, “Marcus agreed to babysit Althea while we are out.”
“I see.”
Ginny seemed to see a little more than was good.
“Well, er, I’ll just use the bathroom, and then, we should get going,” she said as she quickly walked to the bathroom.
“Right,” Hermione muttered miserably, knowing that Ginny would have tons of questions once they were alone. She was not sure how she should handle it.
“Do you want me to Obliviate her?” he asked in a low voice as he came up to her.
Hermione hesitated, but then, she shook her head. She couldn’t trust Voldemort to not remove something important.
“Ginny can keep a secret. I’ll make sure she doesn’t tell anyone.”
Voldemort tilted her chin backwards and looked her straight in the eye. “Make sure she doesn’t. Otherwise, I will.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. She did not like the threat. The toilet flushed, and he stepped away from her before she had time to reply. Ginny came out, and Hermione gave her a small smile. Summoning her handbag, she followed Ginny out to the hall. They walked in silence through the house and out to the street.
“Our first place is maybe a ten minutes’ walk from here,” Ginny said casually. “Shall we walk or Apparate?”
Deciding that it was better to get the inevitable girl talk out of the way, Hermione replied with a sigh: “Walk.”
It only took a minute before Ginny started her interrogation.
“So, do you usually sleep with your babysitters or is he just special?”
Hermione groaned. Only Ginny could put it that way.
“Of course I don’t. And I didn’t really mean to sleep with him either … it just happened.”
“I see. But that was your teacher, right?”
Hermione’s face was so hot with embarrassment that you could probably boil an egg on it. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Ginny gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course not. But … is he taking advantage of you?”
Definitely yes.
“No, it’s nothing like that, we just … I don’t know. Since we are neighbours, I began talking to him a little more than usual and, well, one day I asked if he wanted dinner. I didn’t mean it like a date, and he didn’t either. We talked about Transfiguration and other academics, and one day it just … happened.”
Ginny got her “need-juicy-details” face. “Exactly what just happened?”
Hermione couldn’t get any redder. “We fucked, I believe the term is.”
“Oooh, Hermione Granger, you little slut!”
“Oi!” She pushed her friend, perhaps a bit more forceful than necessary.
Ginny laughed. “Just kidding. But this doesn’t sound like the Hermione I know. He must really be special.”
“Oh, he is,” she replied dryly. A bit too special.
“So what now? Are you two together?”
Hermione kicked at some pebble lying on the cobblestone road. “No, I don’t think so. If someone in the school finds out, I will get kicked out and he can lose his job. We are just … He gets along so well with Althea, so sometimes we just meet and …”
Ginny suddenly stopped. Her eyes went wide as she stared at Hermione with a new understanding in her eyes.
“Is it just a coincidence that Althea and Marcus look alike?”
Hermione’s eyes widened. She had never considered it before. And besides, this wasn’t Voldemort’s true looks, right? So, it wouldn’t be something that he could pass along genetically, right? Voldemort had said the fairies had helped him to get his “dashing look”, but she didn’t think it was how he’d originally looked. Tom Riddle had been described to her rather differently. Besides, if it were his true, original face, Ginny and Harry would have recognised him since they both had seen how he had looked before he turned all snake-like. True, he had looked like he did now when she had slept with him the first time, but … Wait, how could he have looked exactly the same for the past four years? It took a lot of power keeping a glamour up like that. However, if there was a similarity between Voldemort’s current looks and Althea’s, then it couldn’t be a glamour. They weren’t real and couldn’t be passed on to the next generation. He had to have changed his whole genetic makeup somehow.
“Y-you think?” Hermione stuttered.
Ginny watched Hermione with a weird expression on her face. “They have the same hair colour. And the same cheekbones.” Ginny kept staring at Hermione, and the truth must have been visible on her face, because Ginny continued: “Oh, Merlin’s freaking underpants, it’s true? Marcus is Althea’s father?”
Hermione nodded, feeling miserable. How much more would Ginny figure out?
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Ginny smacked Hermione’s arm. “How long have you known?”
Hermione hugged herself; the air suddenly felt very chilly. “Since the first time I met him. Please, please, don’t tell anyone! Not even Harry!”
Ginny was gaping at her. “But Hermione, this is huge!”
“I know, but I like the way things are. I just want to go to school and raise my daughter in peace. That’s all! If people find out, they will expect a lot of things from me, and I don’t want that. Marcus and I are just … private.”
“It’s him, isn’t it? It’s he who doesn’t want anyone to know,” Ginny growled. “That bastard!”
“No, no! It’s not like that! We both don’t want it—”
Ginny, however, seemed to, once again, think the worst of Marcus. “I knew someone that good-looking couldn’t be good news. Is he married? Is that why?”
“No, of course not,” Hermione replied, wanting to shake Ginny to her senses and shout out the truth at the same time. But even as she thought it, she began to cough. It reminded her of the spell Voldemort had put on her to prevent her from telling anyone the truth. “He doesn’t have as much to lose as I do if the wrong people find out. I’m here on a scholarship, Ginny! If anyone suspects me of sleeping with a Professor, I will lose that. And even if I don’t get kicked out, I will never be able to afford staying.”
Ginny watched her warily. “Fine. I just got this weird feeling when I saw him today. There is something spooky about him.”
Hermione sighed. “He is cleverer than anyone I have ever met.”
Ginny didn’t seem convinced, but they began walking again. Hermione looked up at the sky. The heavy, grey clouds were really matching her mood. She didn’t want to fight with Ginny, but she didn’t know what to say. She had never been good at lying, and Ginny had always had an uncanny ability to see straight through her.
“It worries me a little,” Ginny confessed when they had left campus and were out on the sidewalk of the main road. “You have always been so in control of everything. And now … well, it was weird that you got pregnant so young. Not that I don’t admire you for keeping and raising her,” she added quickly. “But it’s so unlike you, and I worry that he is blackmailing you or something.”
Hermione sighed. “I know. But he isn't. It's just, the way he makes me feel is so … I’ve never felt anything like it. I don’t love him but, when he touches me, I feel …” She couldn’t find the right word.
She was surprised when Ginny added softly, “Like you didn’t realise you were missing something until he touched you.”
Hermione watched her in surprise. “Yes. How do you know?”
“Because that’s exactly how I feel with Harry,” Ginny mumbled and looked down on the ground. “Ever since we first met at King’s Cross, I’ve felt this incredibly strong connection between us, like nothing I’ve felt before. And he never seemed to notice. But you know all that. I told you, but I never told you that I tried to stop feeling like that, did I?”
Hermione shook her head, patting her friend’s arm in comfort.
Ginny got a pained expression. “I had read about a numbing potion. It was in my third year. I tried to brew it and got caught by Snape. He, of course, sent me directly to Dumbledore and demanded that I got expelled. I told Dumbledore everything. Do you know what he told me?”
Hermione shook her head. She had never heard this before. Sure, there had been this one time in Hermione’s fourth year when Ginny had had detention for two weeks with Professor Snape, but it was around the same time Hermione tried to get Harry and Ron to talk to each other again and she hadn’t really had time to inquire what Ginny’s problems had been about. Besides, Gryffindors got detention from Snape for the silliest, tiniest transgressions. Hermione had never thought it could’ve been something important.
“He told me he thought Harry and I were Soul Mates.”
That had Hermione gaping. Could it be …?
“Yeah, sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?” Ginny said, misreading her expression. “It got my hopes up, though. Dumbledore said that Harry wasn’t free to control his soul just yet. I never really got that. Well, until Harry told me that he had been carrying around a part of Voldemort all the time. Not that I’m sure I believe Dumbledore. It could just have been him trying to comfort me. But he did say that Harry would come around, just like you said. Just give him time, he said. And well, that worked out fine, so … But I don’t know. Dumbledore never really went into details about what it meant. He only said that once we were together, it would be worth it. That he got right, at least.”
The wheels in Hermione’s mind were spinning like crazy. Had Dumbledore known about Soul Mates? Then, there must be some knowledge somewhere about it, despite what Voldemort had said. Perhaps he just hadn’t read the right book? Dumbledore had been over a hundred when he had died and had had lots of time to read all sorts of books. How could she possibly find out where he had got the knowledge? Too bad he was dead so she couldn’t ask him.
Wait.
Just because someone was dead in the Wizarding World didn’t mean they were gone. Dumbledore’s portrait was still at Hogwarts. If she could, somehow, find a way to talk to him, then she might come to understand what this thing she had with Voldemort was!
Feeling like she was finally getting somewhere in this maddening circus that was her and Voldemort, she started to ask Ginny more about what she and Harry had been up to.

xxx

Once Hermione left, Voldemort decided to take a small nap before doing anything else. All that fighting and sex had made him a bit tired. In fact, he was so tired he didn’t notice a shadow over the bookcases. Neither did he see it creeping toward him when he had closed his eyes. When the shadow reached him, he was already asleep.
However, it wasn't long until he was awakened by his three-and-a-half-year-old daughter who had a serious expression on her face.
“So that is sex,” she said matter-of-factly in Parseltongue.
Voldemort arched an eyebrow and sat up in the couch where he had been taking a nap. “How did you find out about sex?”
“Shadow friend told me sex is when you are kissing and hugging naked.” Althea giggled. “It looked icky.”
“It is very icky.”
Shadow friend, huh, why did that sound so familiar? Voldemort frowned. He was sure he had heard it somewhere, but when? Had Althea talked about a shadow friend before? Yes, she had. Right, it was her imaginary friend. Where children got all their fantasies from, he would never know. Behind his back, the black shadow crept over the wall and disappeared through the window.
“Then, why did you and Mum do it?”
Voldemort yawned and stood up. “Because adults have forgotten how to play properly, and therefore, they do icky things instead. So I don’t advise you to try it.”
“Why not?”
Voldemort tried to think about a good metaphor. “It’s like kidney pie.”
As he had expected, Althea wrinkled her nose. “Kidney pie is icky, too.”
“Children think so, yes, but not adults. It’s the same with sex. It’s only something an adult can appreciate.”
“Yucky.”
He nodded. “So if anyone asks you if you want to play sex, tell them no. It’s icky. And then call for me.”
Althea nodded seriously.
Well, that was one less issue to worry about. He would already have to kill anyone that dared to look at his daughter; he didn’t need Althea to start searching for someone to “play sex with”. Not that he believed she understood the full concept of it. Hugging and kissing naked. Well, that was a part of it. Drilling into the partner was another.
“Why did your shadow friend talk about sex, by the way?” he asked, interested.
Where could Althea have heard about sex, anyway? Or had she just figured out what it was when she saw him and Hermione having sex? That wouldn’t be too strange. She was his daughter, after all. Doomed to be clever.
“Friend said that you and Mum were naughty for doing it.”
Voldemort scoffed. Naughty, indeed.
Speaking of naughty, this would be an excellent time to snoop around the place where he hadn't had time to snoop before: Hermione's bedroom. He made his way into the other room with Althea on his heels.
“Does this mean you are Mum’s boyfriend now?”
“It’s a bit complicated, dear.”
Voldemort went to Hermione's closet and opened the first drawer, but it only contained socks and tights.
“Why? You kiss.”
“There is a bit more to being a boyfriend than kissing, Althea. Why do you want me to be your mother’s boyfriend anyway?” He looked over his shoulder and found his daughter looking at him with big, innocent eyes. “Well?”
“Boyfriends give toys.”
“What?”
Althea nodded seriously. “That mean boy at the Burrow told me. Did you know burrow is where animals live?”
“Actually, I did know that.”
Nothing in the other drawer either, just some T-shirts. Three more drawers to go.
“Are the Weasleys animals?”
That had him laughing out loud. “Sometimes I think so. But no, they are wizards.”
“So why do they live in a burrow?”
“They are poor and blood-traitors.”
“What’s blood-traitors?”
Voldemort stopped his rummaging. He hadn’t actually meant to say that. Children always seemed to repeat the worst words, and it wasn’t likely Althea would pick up the term “blood-traitors” from Hermione. If anyone did hear Althea utter that word, they would no doubt ask her where she had heard it. That could lead to more uncomfortable questions. But it was such an easy word in Parseltongue, and well, they were. Now he had said it, it wasn’t like he could just take it back. Hence, he decided to explain it. After all, sooner or later Althea needed to know this. He would just have to make sure she didn’t repeat it some other way for now.
“That’s when someone betrays their blood standard. You see, there is good blood and bad blood in the world. Wizards have good blood.”
“Grandma isn’t a wizard.”
“No, she isn’t.”
He opened the drawer second to the bottom. Here was where she kept her trousers and skirts. Nothing fun or even remotely interesting.
“How do you know if you have good blood, then?”
It was remarkable how patient he was when it was his own child he was speaking with. If any other child, or adult for that matter, had asked him this many questions in a row, he would probably have tortured that person. However, with Althea he found it rather amusing. Perhaps it was because they spoke in Parseltongue? He got so few opportunities to do that these days.
“Your blood is good because it’s the same as mine,” he replied.
Althea jumped down from the bed and came over to him. “What about Mum?”
He hesitated. “Your mother is a special case.”
They watched each other for a short moment. Then she said, “Mum keeps her secret things in there.” She pointed at the nightstand.
When he tried the handle, it was locked. He arched an eyebrow at his daughter. She smiled broadly and left the bedroom. He chuckled. His blood, indeed, he thought and used his wand to unlock the drawer.

xxx

“The fish in this pond were bred by none other than Minister Cassiopeia. You know all about her from school, I trust?” asked the nice, old lady who was the owner of the garden they were standing in.
Hermione and Ginny both nodded, having read about all the Ministers of the last twenty centuries in History of Magic at Hogwarts.
“Is it true the fish have healing abilities?” Ginny asked, completely in awe over all the wonders in the garden.
“Oh, yes, my dear. St. Mungo’s Healers come over every month for the eggs. Hence, they are both useful and beautiful to look at,” the lady answered, looking quite smug.
She probably thought the deal was made, and Hermione wouldn’t be surprised if Ginny put in a reservation straight away. This was by far the nicest place for a wedding they had seen so far during this very long day.
At the first two places, their visit had gone fairly quick, but at the third place, the owner had practically begged them to hire his location. He wouldn’t let them go until he had explained every upside there was to his place. He even went so far as to lend Ginny a traditional wedding robe to give her the “true feeling” of the place. After two hours, they had practically run from him.
They had celebrated their escape with dinner, much to Hermione's relief. She had been starving, since she had missed lunch. She had hoped the last place on Ginny’s list for potential wedding locations would take a swift visit. However, the old lady had insisted on a tour, and, in retrospect, Hermione was glad they had agreed. The place was indeed beautiful and had an interesting history.
However, now, it was already dark, and Hermione felt a bit unnerved about leaving Althea together with Voldemort for too long. Even though he had seemed honest in his promise not to do anything, Hermione was still nervous. Even if he didn't hurt Althea, he wasn’t above putting ridiculous notions in her head. At the same time, it was such a relief to be away from Voldemort. The last two days had been the longest in her life, and it felt so nice to just be with Ginny and not worry about a thing. Although, of course, she did worry about Althea.
“Ginny?” she asked her friend in a low voice as they walked behind the lady to the next place in the garden they simply had to see. “Will it be okay if I leave? I don’t feel it’s right to leave Marcus alone with Althea for this long.”
“Oh, of course,” Ginny said understandingly. “I will definitely take this place. Merlin, it will be so beautiful. Thank you for joining me.”
Hermione smiled. “My pleasure.”
After giving Ginny a quick hug and saying good-bye to the lady, Hermione Apparated away.
When she came to the flat, she had to force herself to open the door and not run away again. She had no idea what he planned to do to her. Even if he couldn’t torture her anymore, there were still a lot of things he could do to make her life miserable. She didn’t look forward to that.
In the end, the mother inside of her won. She would never leave her daughter for longer than she absolutely had to, no matter what Voldemort would do to her.
Entering the flat, she heard the soft hissing of Parseltongue. She hung her coat on the coat hanger and removed her shoes before she stepped into the room. Voldemort was sitting with a sleepy Althea on his lap, reading something from a book. She was already dressed in her pyjamas and probably ready to go to sleep at any moment.
Voldemort looked up at her when she entered the room but didn’t stop reading. She frowned as she recognised the tome in his hands. It was Tales of Beedle the Bard, the first edition, written in runes. Well, she shouldn’t be surprised Lord Voldemort knew how to read runes. Since she couldn’t understand what he was saying, she curiously went to the couch and looked at what story he was reading. It was The Warlock’s Hairy Heart. Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, which he ignored.
When he reached the end, Althea asked something in Parseltongue. Voldemort chuckled and stroked her hair, answering in Parseltongue. For some reason, Hermione didn’t think she would like what he was saying. However, he then turned to English.
“Are you going to say good night to your mother, Althea?”
Althea didn’t lift her head from Voldemort’s chest, but she did look up at Hermione. “Good night, Mum.”
“Have you brushed your teeth?” Hermione asked her daughter.
Althea nodded.
“Alright, good night, then.”
Voldemort stood up and carried the almost sleeping girl to the bedroom. Just a few minutes later, he came back out and closed the door. Hermione felt the tension rise at once. The last time they had been alone, he had tortured her, and then, they had had sex. What would happen now? Even though he had sworn not to torture her magically anymore, she knew he could do a lot of unpleasant things without a wand as well, and she didn’t want that right now. Somehow, they would have to come to some sort of truce. Otherwise, the anxiety in her stomach would eat her alive.
“Did she brush her teeth?” Hermione asked him, going for something innocent.
“Yes, she did. If you’d rather believe me than her,” he said coldly and sat down on the couch next to her.
Hermione sighed.
“I don’t see why you would lie about this,” she said, making sure her voice was even. “But can you really blame me for not trusting you? Marcus Foster?”
He gently took her hand in his, making her cringe a little, but she didn’t withdraw when he just held her hand.
“It’s not about trust. It’s about fact. I’m always right.”
That made her snort. “Right, and I’m really Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“Funny you should mention Bella. She always knew I was right.”
“And look what happened to her: She got locked up in Azkaban, became mad and, in the end, she was killed by Molly Weasley.”
He grimaced. “Fine. But either way, I am right. Especially about the fairies.”
“And when you can show me some evidence supporting your statement, I’ll believe you,” she stated.
Putting it this way would hopefully lead to him dropping the subject. She would look into the fairy thing as well as the “Soul Mate” thing. However, until that, it was probably best to neither call him a liar nor believe him fully.
Alas, he was not in a compromising mood. “I am an authority. My word is evidence.”
“We could sit here and argue about this all night. I still won’t believe you,” Hermione growled, feeling an upcoming headache.
She had to throw his interest in another direction, or this would lead to something similar of what had happened this morning. But what could she tell him that would make him drop the subject?
“Or we could talk about the fact that Ginny realised you are Althea’s father,” she said quickly, before he had time to come up with a retort to her first sentence.
Voldemort stared at her for a few seconds. “What?”
“Apparently, you look alike,” Hermione said, thankful they were finally talking about something else. Although, what if this led him to do something to Ginny? Oh, fuck.
“But how can that be? This isn’t your true appearance, right?” she quickly asked, hoping he wouldn’t focus too much on Ginny.
She could see Voldemort’s mind working and held her breath, hoping whatever he was about to say wouldn’t lead to something harmful to Ginny.
“Yes, this is my true appearance. It just isn’t my first appearance. But the magic that changed my body was very permanent. I guess it’s not surprising that it even changed the genes I passed on to her.”
“But you are still a Parselmouth,” she said, relieved that he didn’t seem angry at Ginny.
“It only changed my appearance. Or well, some of the organs as well. But not what makes me … well, me.”
“How did you manage that?” she asked, now getting curious.
“There are potions for these sorts of things,” he replied smugly.
When his thumb started to stroke her hand, she remembered that he was still holding it. She hadn’t really noticed the increased pleasure in her body at first. Only that it felt right. Was she getting so used to touching him? Also, why wasn’t she withdrawing her hand? Shouldn’t she want to stop touching him? He was Voldemort, for crying out loud! Just earlier that day, he had tortured her! How could she be all cosy with him now?
Yet, for some incomprehensible reason, she wasn’t withdrawing from him.
“What else did Ginevra say?” he suddenly asked, interrupting her train of thought.
“A lot. Although, I don’t think you are very interested in her wedding plans,” Hermione said, trying not to become nervous. She had to make Ginny appear as if she weren’t a threat at all.
Voldemort snorted. “Hardly. Although, I don’t believe all Ginevra Weasley would say when she found out that you are shagging your teacher is ‘Oh, he must be Althea’s father’.”
Hermione sighed. Well, she definitely wouldn’t tell him about what Ginny had told her about Dumbledore and how she and Harry could be Soul Mates. Even though Voldemort didn’t seem to be on a must-kill-Harry-Potter mission anymore, she didn’t want to give him anything that could be considered a weakness for Harry. Telling him that Ginny was possibly Harry’s Soul Mate could indeed count as a weakness.
“She is surprised,” Hermione said instead. “And I think she also thinks you are taking advantage of me.”
He laughed and then pushed her onto her back gently, moving on top of her. Hermione allowed it. If they were to have sex (and the idea didn’t disturb her nearly as much as she would like), then at least she couldn’t get Ginny in any more trouble.
“You denied that I was taking advantage of you, I hope?” Voldemort asked, smirking.
She sighed and nodded.
He kissed her forehead. “Good. Now, do you mind telling me what this is?” He reached behind the cushion and pulled out something long, thin, purple and metallic.
Hermione blushed, immediately getting embarrassed. She scowled at him. “That drawer was locked.”
“Was it?” he replied innocently and stroked her cheek with the cold toy. “Oh, well. Now, where does this go, I wonder?”
Hermione could feel herself heating up as he moved the vibrator down her body. Was she giving in too easily? Even though she was glad the conversation had moved far away from her friends, there were still other things for them to talk about. She should put up boundaries so he wouldn’t try to control every aspect of her life. Besides, he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with torturing her. She was an independent woman and …
He made her pants disappear with a flick of his wand and then started to run the vibrator over her cunt.
“Now, I wonder what will happen if I turn this.”
Hermione gasped when he put the vibrator on top speed and pressed it against her clit. His eyes gleamed. All thoughts about talking and being independent flew out the window. She craved him.

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Shared Flame