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My Fair Mudblood	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 25604 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything in that world. I do not make money on this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Hi! Sorry it took me so long to update. Real life keeps getting in the way. But here we are! Thank you all for reading and reviewing!

Dwimordene: Hehe, here you get a new chapter right away! I just saw your review when I was about to post so you are lucky! And I hope you'll find Voldemort not too OOC, although, as Hermione have stated, he is not quite the same!

Tvturtle12: Glad you liked the first chapter and I hope you won't have to wait too long for the next!

MJ: Thank you! I'm so glad you have enjoyed my earlier stories and I hope you'll enjoy this just as much!

Nerys: Yes, apparently I did start it already. Why hold on it, I mean? He he. Although, it took me a lot longer than I had expected editing the next chapter. I hope I haven't missed too many mistakes. I really do try to look at every word separately and see if it's wrong in any way and all that... but I'm just not very good at it! Ha ha, I hope your mind will always stay in the gutter! It's more fun down there, tee hee.

Annelaure: I think you'll understand in this chapter why he sent her naked to the past. He is a perverse man... I hope you'll like this chapter as much as the one before! Enjoy everyone!

Chapter 2

After Hermione had agreed to follow his every command, he had decided to put her to the test. It wasn’t as bad as she had expected from the future Dark Lord, just degrading and tiresome. She would clean the room and wash his clothes. He conjured up the most old fashion cleaning equipment; a broom, a tub with water to wash the clothes in and a duster. What would have taken maybe five minutes to do with a wand, took three hours for her to do by hand. And of course, she had to do it all in the nude.

Sometimes she would feel his eyes on her and when she glanced toward him, he would be staring at her body. Even though he had seen it all quite closely by now, it still made her blush and try to cover herself in some way. That would make him snicker and go back to whatever it was he was working on.

When she was done, he ordered her to make dinner. Since she wasn’t the best cook, the result wasn’t the best.

“You’ll have to make this up to me in another way,” he muttered darkly and with a grimace he put her attempt on a soup on the sarcophagus they were using as table.

She looked down. “I cock better with a wand.”

He huffed. “Well, you’ll just have to learn without, don’t you? Strange though, being a Mudblood I would expect you to have had to learn this by now.”

“Time changes,” she replied. “We did have a cooking class in my Muggle school, but it wasn’t mandatory so I choose to study more math instead.”

He didn’t quite seem to believe her. “Ah, well. Now you have left me craving for something else. Come here.”

Hesitatingly, she did. When she was within reach, he pulled her down so she was straddling his lap. It made her panic slightly, but at least he was still fully dressed. Or, well, he had his pants and t-shirt on. The tomb wasn’t cold at all now when he had put a warming charm over it.

“You are a virgin, right?” he asked conversationally and stroked her hips slowly.

She tried to avoid his gaze. “Yes.”

“But you are not completely unfamiliar to a man’s touch,” he remarked and his hands travelled up to her breasts, stroking the sides of them.

“No,” she replied with a shudder. It didn’t feel completely bad, but she was nervous about what he would do.

“Well, you’ll continue to be a virgin for a bit longer,” he purred. “But not untouched.”

It made her relax a little. She could stand to be touched if she knew it wouldn’t lead to him raping her.

“You have such pretty breast,” he mumbled and his thumbs came up to her nipples, playing with them. “I’ve always liked my women petite.” He bent down and used the tip of his tongue to lick her right nipple. Hermione hadn’t been prepared for the jolt it would send through her body and gasped.

He smiled before he dived in and captured her nipple and most of the areola with his mouth. Her first reflex was to fight him away. She had had boys (Viktor and Ron, but the later may have been by mistake) touching her breasts before, but never like this. And the most disturbing part was that she didn’t like him one bit. However, since she wasn’t keen to repeat the whole ant-incident, she forced herself to relax and closed her eyes. Maybe she could imagine someone else? Her thoughts flew to Viktor, but no. When she had seen him this summer she had realised that those feelings had died. They would still be friends but nothing more. And Ron… well, that was a subject she didn’t care to think about. They had just kissed (or, well, for her it was only hours ago, but in reality it wouldn’t happen for another fifty years or so) and she wasn’t sure how she would react to that. It had been a very impulsive thing to do. She had been in love with him for years and when he finally showed her how caring he could be… well, she had kissed him. The overhanging death threat of the battle had probably also had something to do with why she acted so rashly.

Either way, when she kissed him, something just hadn’t felt right. Although, Ron hadn’t seemed to notice it. He just deepened the kiss and hadn’t broken loose until Harry raised his voice. Although, she hadn’t wanted to say anything right then. And now she wondered if she would ever see him again. She didn’t know what spell Voldemort had used on knock him down before he took her.

Her bad thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the young Voldemort biting her left nipple. She jumped and winced and finally opened her eyes. Voldemort leaned back again and watched her. His fingers trailed over the nipple he had just bitten.

“Do you find your breasts very sensitive?” he asked thoughtfully as he continued to play with it.

“I don’t know,” she answered, feeling both pleasure and pain over what he was doing. “Quite moderate, I guess.”

“And where is your most sensitive spot?” His hand left the breast and travelled up to her neck, stroking it softly.

“I-I’m not sure,” she stuttered, starting to feel quite uncomfortable even if (or maybe because) his movements were starting to feel better and better.

“Right, virgin,” he replied smugly. “Well, in due time, I think I’ll find it.” His hand moved downwards, over her breast and stomach. The urge to jump out of his lap was overwhelming when he reached her pubic hair, but his other hand was holding her down. One of his fingers sneaked in between her legs and in between her labia. She whimpered and tried to get loose, but in the next moment, he withdrew.

“You aren’t very wet. No matter, I’ll make you wetter.” He moved his finger to her mouth. “Taste.”

She stared at him, and he simply nudged his finger in between her lips.

“Doesn’t taste all that bad, does it?” he asked after a moment and removed his finger. “Of course, if you relax more the next time, you’ll really enjoy it.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked, still quite shaken by his actions.

He pushed her off his lap gently. “Well, what else is sex for if not to enjoy it? Or are you one of those religious girls who think sex is bad and should only be used to create children?”

“No, I just want… wanted to have sex with the right person. In the right time.”

He laughed. “Then you better start considering me as Mr Right, Hermione. Now be a good girl and do the dishes. I’ve a potion to make.”

Hermione watched his back as he left the chamber. For a moment she considered going after. She wanted to find out what else was in this pyramid. However, she knew that would probably anger him and so she quickly did what he had asked. Although, it didn’t take more than a few minutes to clean it all and once she was done, she didn’t have anything else to do. Her eyes wandered over the room. All the walls were covered with pictures and writing. She did know quite a bit about hieroglyphs thanks to a special project she had made for her Ancient Runes class. The Professor had encouraged her try to learn more about hieroglyphs because of her talent for languages. She had said that it could come in handy one day. And it had, just months later, when she had started looking for ways to destroy Voldemort’s horcruxes. Two of the text had been poor translations of hieroglyphs and she had bought copies of the original texts and done the translations herself. That’s how she had found out about Basilisk’s venom being one of the few things able to destroy horcruxes. There had been other ways of course, but those had been a lot more dangerous and required far more knowledge about the Dark Arts than she possessed.

Looking closely at the wall, she tried to determine what it was about. She recognised a lot of the symbols, but without a lexicon she wouldn’t be able to make a lot of sense of it. There were only so many symbols you could have in your head and remember the translation correctly. Especially when the same symbol could mean a lot of different things depending on what context it was in. The passage she stood before now was either about a death rite or something about a bird. Since she was in a tomb, she guessed the first, but you never knew. Her eyes fell on the books and scrolls of parchment lying at the desk two yards away from her. One of those books were probably a lexicon. If she could just have a peak, she would probably remember what she had learned and be able to translate the wall.

Making sure Voldemort was no where to be heard or seen, she opened the first books and browsed through it. Ah, yes, she had been right. Death rite. An explanation about how the soul would travel to Anubis and all that. She put the book down and her eyes fell on the parchments. One of the scrolls was open and she saw an unfamiliar handwriting. Voldemort’s probably. He was working on translating some special part of the text. Her heart started to beat faster when she saw her own name being circled at the right side of paper. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he would examine her while she was asleep. She didn’t know what all the numbers meant, but some of them were awfully familiar. 5.3 feet was her height and 112 pounds must mean her weight. She hadn’t really been weighting herself since last summer with the war going one and all, but it seemed right. Although, that meant she had lost six pounds. She was actually relieved it wasn’t more.

Not able to figure out what the other numbers meant, she unrolled some of the other scrolls. Yes, he was defiantly trying to translate something and he seemed to have a problem with it. Especially one passage. The key hieroglyph was underlined and he appeared to have been trying several different translations to make the sentence cohesive. He seemed to have succeeded, but… she bit her lower lip as she thought. That hieroglyph. She was sure she had read about it somewhere. Ah, yes, in that paper her Professor had lent her. It was a new discovery. They had long thought that the hieroglyph was yet another name for the sun god Ra and could mean anything he stood for. But in that paper, the author had discovered that it in reality was an Egyptian name for a Sumerian goddess.

Hermione was so caught up in trying to re-translate the text that she didn’t hear him come back. However, she soon noticed when he gripped her and pressed her up against the wall.

“What do you think you are doing?” he asked in a low, threatening voice.

“I just saw that you had mistranslated a hieroglyph,” she answered. Just as the words left her mouth, she realised that it may not be the cleverest thing to say to the future Dark Lord that he had made a mistake.

His grip of her shoulders tightened. “What? You don’t even know what the text is about!”

“No, not yet,” she answered quickly, trying to think about the best thing so say. “I just saw that you had trouble translating one of the symbols and then I saw that you were under the assumption that the hieroglyph means Ra when it means Inanna.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” he growled. His hand was pressing so hard into her shoulder that she was sure she would get bruises. “Inanna isn’t even Egyptian!”

“No! But they just discovered that…,” the trailed off, seeing her mistake. The paper had been written just three years ago, her time. Voldemort couldn’t possible know that.

Voldemort’s grip of her shoulders lessened and his eyes because suspicious. “What did they just discover?”

“I-I shouldn’t talk about the future,” she stuttered.

He slapped her, hard. “You’ll tell me what I wish to know!”

She gasped in pain. Her whole cheek stung. Did it really matter if she told him about this? It would after all be common knowledge (or well, for everyone who were interested in hieroglyphs), so it wasn’t really revealing too much.

“Well, about forty years from now a famous researcher will discover connections between ancient Egypt and Sumerian. The Egyptians borrowed the goddess Inanna to explain certain types of magic, which they had also learned from the Sumerians. Now when I think about it, I recall it being rumoured that it was in fact Imhotep who was the one making contact with the Sumerians…”

He stared at her for a few minutes and then he let go of her. She sank down on the floor, shaking after the ordeal and watched warily as he walked to the opposite side of the room. He tapped his finger over one passage and went to another part of the wall and made a humming noise. Then he went back to his desk and wrote something down. After about ten minutes he looked up with a triumphal smile. He went over to her and lifted her up.

“At least now I know why I choose you.” He kissed the cheek he had slapped before and carried her over to the bed. “I can’t see into the future, but without the knowledge you so readily gave to me, I would unintentionally have killed you.” He kissed her cheek again. “So you see, it works in your favour to help me.”

She lay completely still as he trailed kisses down her cheek, chin and neck. She was feeling a bit... peculiar. Then he moved his hand over her body and she felt herself go completely relaxed. There had to be some sort of magic involved, but her brain felt numb to any type of thought. All she could do was feel.

“Much better,” he whispered into her neck before he sat up straight.

She looked at him from under half-lidded eyes as he stroked her legs slowly. His thumbs drew small circles over her ankles and up her calves. He stroked the inside of her legs and stopped at her thighs. Even if her body was relaxed, her breathing started to speed up. He leaned down and nibbled the skin of her thigh playfully. Her legs fell open without problem, giving him full access to her intimate area. A small part of her numb brain began to scream at her to do something, but not the part controlling her body. She could feel wetness running down her sex.

“My, my,” Voldemort whispered and stroked her labia with one finger. It made a shudder run through her whole body. “Look what we have here.”

He looked perfectly naughty when he stuck his finger into his mouth and licked it clean. Hermione was so entranced by it that she didn’t see his other hand move in between her legs again. Not until two fingers were pushed inside her, that was. It stung and that made her wake up for her trance.

“What are you doing to me?” she whispered, her mind starting to function again, even if she was still very aware of the pleasure he was somehow making her feel.

“Just showing you how nice sex can be,” he answered softly and pressed his thumb against her clit. At the same time, he started to push his fingers in and out of her.

She moaned and her eyes closed. Every time he pushed at her clit, it was like a tiny electric bolt moved up her spine which made her whole body shiver. When the orgasm came upon her, she gripped the sheets hard and whimpered softly. Just as quickly as he started, he withdrew and jumped out of the bed. She opened her eyes just in time to see him leave the chamber. She felt very confused, but also, strangely enough very at peace. Her sex was still throbbing pleasantly in aftershock.

Five minutes later, he came back and she had started to come back to her senses again. “Why did you do that?”

He smiled at her. “I told you; I wanted to show you how good sex is. And also how much in control of you I am. Soon, you’ll learn to get wet by my mere touch.”

It sounded awful lot like a threat. Hermione rose from the bed. Not knowing what else to say, she asked: “Is there a bathroom anywhere?”

Still smiling, he led her out from the chamber, turned around a corner. A modern toilet and sink looked very out of place in the dusty corridor.

“I never bothered to put up a door,” he explained at her frown. “And I won’t do it now. Just do your business and get back.”

Hermione’s bladder was too full for her to be ashamed over the fact that there was no door and that he could come back at any time and see her do her business. Anyway, why would he? Sure, he was a mass murderer and all, but she doubted he got off on seeing a woman pee.

When she came back he was writing fast at his desk. She cleared her throat. He stopped and looked up.

“Could I have some clothes now?” she asked trying to sound neither whiny nor cocky.

He blinked. “No.”

“Why not?” Now she did sound whiny and she silently swore.

“Because I want to see you naked, is that so hard to understand?” he was starting to sound annoyed.

She crossed her arms. “Why? You have already seen it all by now!”

“True, but I just find you very smashing to look at. Take it as a complement.” He turned back to his desk.

She growled. “But you are not even looking now! How would you feel if you had to walk around naked all the time?”

He sighed and rose from the desk. To her great surprise he started to undress. “I actually don’t mind at all. And now when your mention it, it will be practical to be naked considering how many times I’ll fuck you once I’ve finished the translation you so nicely gave me the key too.”

As he spoke, he had effectively removed all the clothes on his body and was now kicking them aside. Hermione was both horrified over his words and over how... well hung he was. And this was in a non-erected state. Merlin, there really wasn’t just a stereotype about evil men having a huge… equipment.

“Do you feel better now?” he asked dryly and stepped closer to her. “Perhaps you would want to touch?” He gripped her hand and moved it closer to his body. Out of reflex, she pulled her hand back, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the… thing dangling between his legs. Or, well, not really dangling, but…

“Never mind, you’ll get well introduced to my cock later. Now let me work in peace.” He moved back to his desk and sat down again.
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My Fair Mudblood