His Cassandra | By : jsu1660n Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 10570 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter, neither the characters from the books or movies. I receive no profit from this fanfiction. |
Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while, so that we can see Life with a clearer view again.
~ Alex Tan
Chapter One
Hermione Granger awoke in St. Mungo’s surrounded by her teary-eyed friends. She hoped that her slowly returning memory had been just a horrible nightmare. But from the red rimmed eyes of Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville, she knew it was real.
Luna was dead.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I don’t understand how they could be so cruel.”
“They’re Death Eaters, Hermione,” Harry said, fiercely. “Comes with the territory.”
“How’s her father? I can’t imagine how he must be feeling.” Her four friends looked at each other briefly. “Guys?” she felt the dread weighing heavily in her stomach like stones.
“They got him, Hermione. They burned down the house, but his body wasn’t there. We can only assume he was captured,” Neville sniffled. He and Luna were the closest. They cared a lot for each other. Maybe even loved each other.
“I’m so sorry, Neville.”
Neville tried to smile and failed miserably. “You did what you could. I’m just grateful she was with someone she cared for when she…when she…” he closed his eyes and tears fell from his lashes. He dropped his head and his shoulders trembled delicately.
Unable to withstand the sight of her friend suffering so, Hermione sat up and drew him into her arms. His tear stained cheeks touched her neck and the others looked on no less devastated.
“They will pay for this, Neville. Luna will be avenged.”
The five friends, inconsolable in their shared grief, moved on to lighter topics. Ron told the story of Fred and George dedicating a fireworks spectacular in the middle of Diagon Alley to Luna. It ended with LONG LIVE THE CRUMPLE-HORNED SNORKACK! They laughed and shared the many “get well” gifts sent to Hermione from their Gryffindor housemates. Between eating her favorite candies without her parents cringing and reminding her of the horror of cavities, Hermione could almost pretend that everything was fine and that Luna’s presence was not sorely missed.
Lord Voldemort sat on his throne, unable to truly savor the taste of fear in the air. For although he appeared calm and at ease on the outside, inside he was in a torrent of fury. All he asked was that the girl be brought back alive. That’s all! Yet his ingenious followers still managed to muck it up. The simplest of tasks!
“Antonin,” he purred sweetly, further frightening his gathered followers. “Once more please. I find your tale so…fascinating that I absolutely must hear it again!”
The dark haired man swallowed nervously. “W-well, m-milord, the girl put up more resistance than we expected. I-I thought that if I injured her father she would be more c-compliant.”
“But she wasn’t?” he asked, rolling his beloved yew wand between his long fingers.
“N-no, milord,” he stuttered fearfully.
“And then what did you do?” Lord Voldemort asked softly.
“I attempted to curse her father, milord, b-but the girl – s-she jumped in the way.”
Voldemort flicked his wand lazily and Dolohov collapsed to the floor. Anguished screams escaped the throat of the usually proud Death Eater. His screams created a most pleasant symphony of agony, but even that could not chill Voldemort’s fiery temper.
“I ask one thing of you lot tonight and surprise, surprise, you managed to fail me.” He flicked his wand again and all who had participated in the attempted kidnapping of the Lovegood girl dropped liked stones, writhing and screaming along with their brother.
His red eyes glowed in his fury and Nagini slithered around his throne, resting her head on his lap wishing to comfort her distressed master. Only under her calming presence did he drop the curse and watch dispassionately as his followers struggled to their feet.
“Gentleman, I confess you all have greatly disappointed your lord. You, most of all, Antonin.”
“Milord, please,” he groveled at the unmistakable promise of suffering in Voldemort’s eyes.
“Please? Please?” he flew off the throne and sneered down over Dolohov who cowered in fear of his wrath. “You dare beg Lord Voldemort for mercy? Mercy when you and your brothers have failed me yet again?! Mercy after that shameful debacle at the ministry where you all were bested by a handful of children barely out of their nappies that not only cost me the prophecy, but now element of surprise over that fool Fudge! And after all of this, you think that you deserve Lord Voldemort’s mercy?” he hissed softly.
Dolohov smartly kept his mouth shut and his eyes lowered submissively. Voldemort languorously caressed his wand deep in thought.
“But,” his sudden voice startled the man into meeting his gaze. “I am a merciful lord, am I not?” he continued not looking for an answer. “You have been a faithful servant for many years, Antonin.” He reached out and cupped Dolohov’s chin as he whimpered and nuzzled his palm subserviently. “Waiting faithfully in Azkaban for your lord to return. How can I not take that into consideration before I pass judgment, my servant?” his crimson gaze scanned the crowd for the familiar blue eyes. “Fenrir,” he paused and smirked cruelly at a now trembling Dolohov. “Come forward.”
The Death Eaters gave the hulking werewolf a wide berth of space as he approached. “Milord,” he rumbled, kneeling before him.
“Antonin has failed me twice, Fenrir. Had he not been faithful to me in my absence I would feed him to you,” he said conversationally as said man sucked in a low, frightened breath. “Yet faithful service does not constitute a free pass in my book.” Voldemort’s eyes grew cold as he flicked his wand, disrobing both men. “Try not to turn him.”
“Yes, milord.” The frightening werewolf’s eyes roamed over Dolohov’s firm and well-proportioned frame. His cock hardened and jutted out proudly as he forced it inside of Dolohov’s unwilling mouth.
“I would suggest you get his cock nice and wet, Antonin,” Voldemort announced after he returned to his throne. “You won’t have the luxury of any other lubricant.”
Tears of humiliation swam in his eyes as he gagged on Greyback’s massive cock pounding his throat. The sounds of the other Death Eaters jeering filled his ears.
“You can do better than that, Dolohov!”
“Choke him, Greyback!”
“Suck that cock!”
The others who were on the mission with Dolohov didn’t dare make a sound for fear of receiving a punishment just as horrible.
Feeling that he was about to cum, Greyback pulled his wet cock out of Dolohov’s mouth with a resounding POP. He forced the man into position and mounted him as he would a bitch in heat. In one forceful thrust, his thick cock pushed into Dolohov’s pink rosette. Despite his best efforts, Dolohov could not withhold the unearthly scream as he felt his ass rip apart.
From his throne, Voldemort flicked his wand and Dolohov screamed even louder as Greyback’s cock thickened and lengthened to impossible proportions. Blood and excrement ran down Dolohov’s thighs and harsh smacks of skin against skin filled the room. Greyback’s claws tore into his back, leaving bloody, jagged slashes that would forever scar.
Greyback started to growl and froth at the mouth nearing his completion. With one final powerful thrust, Greyback released a loud howl – causing more than a few Death Eaters to clutch their wands in case the werewolf suddenly transformed – and shot jet after jet of his cum inside Dolohov’s bleeding, throbbing ass.
“Let this serve as a reminder, my followers. Loyal or not – Lord Voldemort does not tolerate failure. Severus, come forward!” he commanded. The momentary amusement he felt from Dolohov’s shame had long expired.
“Milord.”
“What happened after the girl was cursed?”
“She Portkeyed away. I have not been made aware of the exact location. Only that her body was recovered by the Order,” he answered as silkily as ever.
This wasn’t good enough. He needed to know more and he had the distinct feeling that his spy was holding back information. Had Snape been anyone else, Voldemort would have immediately broken into his mind and taken the answers he needed, but the Potions Master’s walls were as formidable as his own. He would just have to take the man at his word.
For now.
To make himself feel better, Voldemort flicked his wand. Severus fell to knees gasping as painfully burning and bleeding slashes tore across his back.
“Bella!” he turned to the woman who squirmed in barely restrained excitement. “Since Mr. Lovegood is indeed a guest in your sister’s mansion I will leave his interrogation to you.”
“Thank you, milord,” she eagerly agreed, licking her lips and twirling her wand between her fingers.
Voldemort’s eyes swept over her before he addressed her husband. “Rodolphus, make sure she doesn’t kill him until you have everything you need from him.”
“Yes, milord.”
“The rest of you are dismissed.”
Not needing to be told twice, several pops filled the room until only one remained, clothed in Death Eater robes and underneath that, physically altered so that no one would know her identity.
“Come,” he said softly. She approached his throne and kneeled at his feet. “Tell me.”
“He lies, milord. Luna’s Portkey took her to a Muggle neighborhood. The same neighborhood where one of her closest friends live.”
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Potter?”
Her lips curled in a sly smirk. “Better. His ‘sister’ Hermione Granger.”
Voldemort returned her smirk. “Now that is interesting.”
“She grieves for Luna along with the others. She hasn’t told us what happened.”
“But she will tell you, won’t she, Ginerva?” he hissed demandingly.
She laughed coldly. “Of course. Aside from her precious Harry she tells me everything.” She stood up on her knees, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. “How may I serve you, milord?”
“Find out everything that happened when Lovegood died. But be cautious! Watch everyone around you and make sure no one knows your true allegiance, Ginerva.”
“I will not fail you, milord.”
“I know you won’t. Because if you did, your mistress and master would have to find themselves a new little pet.” Her eyes widened and filled with anger and panic. “Young Draco tells me that Lavender Brown is quite the adventurous little Gryffindor. Perhaps she could sate their appetites should you fail.”
Her fists clenched at her sides and darkness filled her eyes. “I will not fail you, milord.”
“Stand up,” he commanded. When she obeyed, he slipped his cold hand underneath her robes. Slipping between her legs, he found her lacking knickers and dripping wet. “My, my, how ready you are, Ginerva,” he laughed. “Did you like watching Dolohov getting his ass fucked by my werewolf?”
She moaned loudly, bucking into his hand when two thin, skilled fingers slipped past her swollen lips and entered her pulsing core. “Yes, he…oohh…he was a dick to Hermione in the ministry.”
His dark chuckle wafted around her as the sound of his fingers rapidly thrusting into her aroused pussy filled the room.
But just when she was about to cum, he quickly withdrew from her. She opened her eyes, and seeing the all too familiar cruel smirk that made her swoon fondly in remembrance of their Chamber of Secrets days, pouted prettily.
“You are not allowed to cum, Ginerva, until you have more information for me. I will inform your mistress and master. And just to make sure you don’t get any bright ideas…” he flicked his wand, hexing her. “Clean me,” he said, pushing his fingers soaked with her juices into her mouth. She moaned and sucked his fingers clean. “You have improved, Ginerva.”
She blushed and lowered her eyes knowing he was referring to when she sucked off his diary self in the Chamber of Secrets.
She released his fingers and he cupped her chin, drawing her close enough to inhale the scent of her juices on her breath. “Get to work, Ginerva,” he hissed softly.
After she was gone, Voldemort reflected on the memory he saw of the Mudblood who was said to be brightest witch of her age. He had seen the girl through Potter’s memories and dreams. And then he got to see her in person at the ministry. She was dirty, bruised and frightened, but her large brown eyes stared at Potter as if willing the boy to break free of his possession. And for a fleeting moment, those innocent eyes flickered to his defiantly.
At the time, Voldemort wanted to curse her for audacity. But now he could only smirk at the little chit’s courage. None of his followers would be so impudent as to look into his eyes, and here was this girl, this child, openly defying him!
And it helped that the girl was attractive. Wild brown hair and a shapely body. She was a soft, understated beauty whose innocence seem to glow against her golden skin.
Taking Potter’s prized Mudblood would break the boy. It was obvious that he had feelings for her girl other than brotherly affection. It was after all, disgustingly loving memories of the girl that finally managed to break his possession. With sweet little Ginerva on his side they would never see him coming.
A high, cold laugh filled the room. Whether she had the gift or not, Hermione Granger would be his.
AN: OK, Dolohov is obviously not one of my favorites because this idea was too great to leave out!
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