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
- 20
- 21
- 22
Hello and Happy New Year! To celebrate this New Year, I have decided to post the longest chapter of this story! Have a wonderful day!

Review-answers!

Lyra Aphrodite Moon; Have you ever doubt it? *smirk* Voldemort is so funny when he is shameless!

Sjauthor; Haha, Voldemort as a caring and loving husband? Yeah… poor Hermione. But I have already wrote the part where they have sex the first time and I changed it a little after your review, but I hope it will be okay! And now you get to read about Dumbledore’s and Voldemort’s meeting!

Wistful-Stragazer; Well, of course the version on AFF is better, that is the one I really wrote! I had to change it so the poor manager on FF can stand it… Oh, well, there isn’t any smut in this chapter, but there will be soon enough!

Chapter 21

Voldemort arrived at the small pub in the middle of a small town a couple of miles outside York. He was more than half an hour late… although he wouldn’t apologize. If Dumbledore really wanted to speak with him, he would still be there.

It was a typical English Muggle pub. Most of the small tables were occupied by people who were gossiping about their day. Some were smoking, so Voldemort conjured up a small invisible bubble of clean air around him. Passive smoking was just as dangerous as active smoking. He refused to suffer due to other people’s foolishness.

He spotted Dumbledore in one of the dark corners. He was drinking something as he bobbed his head to the music coming out from some Muggle machine. Voldemort sighed and went over to him.

“Ah, Tom,” Dumbledore said as Voldemort pulled out a chair and sat down. If he hadn’t just had sex, he would probably be angrier at Dumbledore’s use of his birth name.

“Albus,” Voldemort said and made sure he had his wand was within reach.

“I have to congratulate you to the fatherhood,” Dumbledore said. “I understand it is a boy?”

Voldemort nodded. “We are very happy.”

Dumbledore looked at him over his glasses. “I can imagine. You are very well preserved for a man your age, Tom.”

“And you are very vigorous for a man of your age, Albus,” Voldemort said, a bit annoyed. “Why have you called me here? I’m a very busy wizard.”

Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile. Voldemort felt a sudden urge to straighten his hair and look into a mirror. He had cleaned himself however, hadn’t the girl bitten him?

“At least I’m getting some,” Voldemort said with a smile.

Dumbledore sighed. “Yes… that is one of the reasons why I have called you here today.”

Voldemort arched his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

Dumbledore straightened and continued. “But first; stop searching for the Cup, Tom. You have no idea what it can do.”

Voldemort froze. How the hell could he know about them? Only he and Hermione… he blinked when he remembered what she had said “…I could pass on information about you to your enemies…”. Although, he had wished her not to tell anyone about that. Not tell anyone directly anyway. He would have to kill her.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he lied.

Dumbledore sighed. “You won’t get what you want from it, Tom. You would never be able to master it, even if you found it. It would be too dangerous…”

Voldemort was quiet. What did the old man know that he didn’t? Why was he speaking of only one Cup? Helga Hufflepuff had used one of the Cups. Had the Founder left something at Hogwarts? Something that could tell him what the Cups did? Then he needed to break into Hogwarts.

“Your concern is touching, Albus,” he sneered. “But unnecessary. I have always been able to take care of myself.”

Dumbledore made a grimace. “Well, that can be disputed, but this is neither the place nor the time to do so.”

Voldemort crossed his arms. “Anything else you have to say?”

“Ah, yes… I think I have found a way to break the Contract between you and your wife.”

Voldemort blinked and unfolded his arms. “That’s impossible!”

“On the contrary, I have several theory, and actual proof that one of them works. However, I want an oath that you won’t hurt Hermione once the Contract is broken.”

Ways to be free his Mudblood wife? His men worked on it for months until he finally asked them to do something more productive with their time. He hadn’t thought so much about it since then. Hermione was now a part of his life. Even if he was going to hurt her for telling Dumbledore about the Cups. How the hell had she managed to do that?

“No,” she finally said.

Dumbledore looked surprised. “No? I’m sorry Tom, but I won’t tell you how to do it unless you give me an oath.”

Voldemort got up. “It won’t be necessary. I am not interested in breaking the Contract.”

He didn’t know why he was honest, but it was the truth. Hermione had turned out to be very useful… and entertaining. Besides, she was the mother of his child. After everything he had done, it would be strange if he divorced her. The press and his Death Eaters would ask questions.

“I… I don’t understand…,” Dumbledore said, looking shocked. “You wish to be married with her?”

“Yes.” Voldemort said seriously. “She has grown on me. I don’t even see her as a Mudblood any more.”

Dumbledore frowned. Voldemort pushed back his chair and made ready to stand. “If that is all?”

“And Hermione wishes to stay married as well?” Dumbledore asked.

Voldemort paused. His hand came up to his lips where she had bitten him. “I’m certain she would miss me. Good night, Albus.”

He left the pub. When he stepped out the door, he called some of his Death Eaters. They appeared moments later. “Dumbledore is in there. You know the reward if you get him.”

Then he Apparated home. He had a wife to deal with.

He managed to work up quite a rage on his way between the Apparition-point and their bedroom. He was fuming when he opened the door. Hermione just came out from the bathroom with a towel around her hair and a bathrobe around her body. The smile on her face faded when she saw his angry glare.

“You…,” he said and pointed at her as he started to go toward her. “You… ungrateful little slut.”

She frowned and walked to behind the sofa. “Uh… I guess the meeting didn’t go well?”

“Oh, it went very well,” Voldemort said with a sneer. He could almost see himself strangling her. “Dumbledore had something very interesting to say…” He started to walk around the suite and she walked in the opposite position.

“He often does.” She sounded a bit nervous.

“Yes. He said that I should stop looking for the Cups.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Yes, I was quite surprised myself… since the only two people who know about the Cup are you and I. And I haven’t told anyone.” He took some fast steps towards her, but she took some fast steps away from him.

“You must have told someone,” she objected. “Don’t you have people looking for it?”

“Oh, yes, I do. However, they don’t know what it is they are looking for. Who did you tell? Or did you write him a letter? No wait… you gave those Weasleys some sort of cryptic message. Because you can’t tell anyone directly…”

Hermione seem to think fast. “Well, what did you expect me to do? Just sit back and let you rule the world?”

He stopped for a moment. Why was she confessing already? Did she have something more to hide? Something she really didn’t want him to know? He jumped over the couch and lurched for her. She ran away to the bed and jumped up on it.

“Whom did you tell?” he asked. “What did you say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she hissed. “Dumbledore figured it out. He is going to stop you!”

He was standing next to the bed now. She seemed to be ready to jump off the bed if he tried to grab her.

“I have underestimated you, girl,” he hissed. “It won’t happen again.”

“Haven’t you said that sometime before?” she mocked. “Your problem is that you always think that you are the top of the world… Oh!”

He made an attempt to grab her and she jumped away. He managed to grab her foot in mid air and then everything happened at once. He could hear a crash, but in the same time, her foot came up to his face with such force that his nose cracked and he fell backwards and landed on his arse. He let out a long curse as the blood ran from his nose. It hurt like hell and he was blinded with tears form the pain.

“Lolly,” he called, he didn’t want to heal himself when he couldn’t see. It could have dangerous consequences.

He could hear the small pop from the House-Elf.

“Cob hee,” he said to the elf. “’eal me!”

A small hand came up on his face. He sat very still as the elf used her magic to heal his bones. He sighed in relief when the pain changed to a throbbing sensation. He wiped the tears away and rose. Then he saw Hermione lying on the floor in an awkward angle. He cursed and went over to her. She was unconscious, but thankfully alive. He sat down next to her and sighed. She seemed to have broken her arm, and she would probably have one hell of a headache when she woke up. Which meant he would have one too.

He cursed again and lifted her up from the floor and onto the bed. He was still angry with her. Nevertheless, for the moment, she had got what she deserved. Perhaps he could make her do something… like laundry for all his Death Eaters. With her bare hands. Yes, that would be disgusting enough.

After he had healed her arm and her head, he woke her up. She groaned as she awakened.

“What happened?” she asked.

“You fell,” he said.

She looked up at him and her eyes widened. “Why are you so bloody?”

“Oh, well, you kicked me.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Oh, you will be. Because after you have taken Harry back tomorrow, you’ll be locked inside a small room and wash all Death Eaters cloths. I guarantee that you’ll find some nasty things in them. But you’ll not use your wand.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “It sounds like something they would make you do at Hogwarts.”

“Yes, it does,” he smiled cruelly. “I would make such a good teacher.”

She didn’t answer that. Instead she turned around and fell asleep. Voldemort looked at her for a moment. His anger cooled down. A small part of him was wondering if she would ever obey him.

xxx

When Hermione woke up the next morning, Voldemort wasn’t there. She yawned, got up, did her business in the bathroom and had some breakfast. She fed their son, bathed him in the bathtub and read for him. Both she and Voldemort were eager to educate the boy in everything they knew. Although, Hermione made him promise not to teach their son Dark Arts until he asked for it, or was old enough to look at it objectively. Hermione was a bit worried that it was one of those promises Voldemort wouldn’t try to keep.

When the baby fell asleep, Hermione did some morning exercises, both with her body and with her magic. She was trying to learn wand-less magic, if Voldemort would take her wand again. Although, it didn’t went very well. The only thing she could really do was make things float and even that gave her a headache.

Voldemort showed up around eleven. For some reason, he pinched his nose when he saw her. Perhaps he was afraid she would accidently break it again. She smirked.

“Where have you been?” she asked and rose from the floor were she had been doing some stretching.

He arched an eyebrow and removed his hand. “Why, did you miss me?”

“No, but I want to get Harry away from you as fast as possible.”

He went over to the sofa and sank down. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind once you see him.”

“What? Why?” She cast a cleansing spell over herself. She didn’t have time to take a shower.

Voldemort made a grimace. “He is a bit suicidal.”

Hermione blinked. “What?”

“Yes… For the last two weeks, he has begged me to kill him.” He sounded awfully nonchalant.

Hermione put a hand across her temple and sighed. “So that’s why you are letting him go? You hope he will kill himself?”

“Well, yes,” Voldemort confessed. “But I’m giving him a chance. You’ll decide where he will go now, perhaps they can help him.”

“I want to help him!” She exclaimed .

“Well, you can’t help him because we will be going to Brazil tomorrow to search for the Cups,” he said matter-of-factly and rose again. He went to her and placed a hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go and see your friend. And I wish you to not tell anyone about what Potter has told me. I wish you to not talk about it, write about it or give any hints at all.”

Hermione made a grimace (he was clearly not underestimating her anymore) and let herself be lead out of the room. They went to a lower floor and Voldemort opened a small door. The room behind it was better than the one Ginny had occupied when Hermione “rescued” her. There was a bed, a toilet and a window with bars over. A half eaten plate of food was standing next to the door.

She hadn’t seen her friend in four months, and she gasped when she saw him now. Harry had always been skinny, but now he looked like skin and bones. His hair was just a black stub, perhaps half an inch long. However, he looked clean and he was wearing a clean grey robe. Hermione wondered why. She looked up at Voldemort who made a gesture for her to go over to the wizard on the bed. Hermione did.

She let out a second gasp when she saw his face. There was no colour on it and his eyes seemed… empty. Hermione stopped the sudden urge to cry and took his hand instead. It was cold. Harry looked at her.

“You are not pregnant anymore,” he noticed. His voice was toneless and a bit hoarse, like he just had a cold or something.

“No,” she said. “I gave birth to a boy almost five weeks ago.”

“A boy,” Harry muttered. “He is good, right? Not evil?”

Hermione smiled. “Yes, he is good.”

“Will you keep him good?” Harry begged.

“Yes, of course I will.” She moved closer to her friend and embraced him carefully. He seemed so breakable.

“I dreamt about Ron,” Harry said. He was leaning his head against her shoulder. “I miss him.”

“I miss him too, Harry,” Hermione whispered.

“Do you think we will see him again?”

“You never know.” She could hear Voldemort soft snort behind her, but she ignored him. “Perhaps Ron is watching over us… together with our parents.”

Harry didn’t say anything, he just sighed.

“And even if it would be wonderful to meet them again, there are so many others who want to meet you here on earth. Think about Ginny and Remus…,” she continued, trying cheer him up.

Harry groaned. “I think I’m dreaming. You can’t be here. He would never let you be here.”

“It is me, Harry,” she promised. “And I will get you away from here now. Come on.”

She helped him rise. Harry didn’t say anything. He didn’t look up as Hermione lead him past Voldemort and out from the room. Perhaps Harry really thought he was just dreaming. Hermione wondered how long time it would take before he realised that he wasn’t.

“One hour, Hermione,” Voldemort called after her. “Or I’ll come and get you.”

She didn’t answer. She kept going until she reached the Apparition point. Harry still didn’t say anything. She told him that she would take him to Remus and all Harry did was sigh. Hermione sighed as well and Apparated them away.

A moment later they reappeared outside Remus’ house. Harry looked around in disbelief.

“It’s not a dream, Harry,” she reassured him. “Remus will take care of you.”

She knocked on the door and a moment later the half naked wizard showed up. He must just have got out from the shower.

“Oh…,” Hermione said. Before she had time to apologise, Remus grabbed Harry with a disbelieving look.

“Harry? Is that really you?” Remus asked. “What happened?”

Harry didn’t answer. He was blinking rapidly, like he was trying to get tears away, or perhaps wake up. Remus led them inside and Hermione told Remus everything she knew and was allowed to say. Which basically was that Voldemort had tortured Harry for information the past five months and that Harry now was suicidal. Remus seemed horrified. They were now sitting in Remus’ small kitchen.

“I have to go,” Hermione mumbled after a while. “Voldemort found out that I have, somehow, given Dumbledore information about his plans. He doesn’t know whom I gave the information too.”

Remus sighed. “Well, that is good, at least. Will you be okay?”

Hermione went over to him and gave him a hug. “Yes. Don’t hate me when you read the paper tomorrow. I had to do something to free Harry.”

Remus seemed puzzled, but nodded. Hermione went over to hug Harry as well. He didn’t seem to react. “I’ll try to come and visit some time.”

Then she Apparated back home. She had laundry to do.

xxx

Voldemort went his meeting-Death-Eaters office once Hermione left. He had a couple of Death Eaters reports to read. He was halfway through the second report when there was a knock on the door.

“Enter,” he called and let the report flop down on the desk in front of him.

The door opened and one of his Death Eaters entered. She was a spy with the perfect plain face no one remembered. She was half-blood and knew her way around in both the wizard world and in the Muggle world. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since he sent her out on her mission two months ago.

“Miss Smith,” he said with a smile. “I trust you have good news?”

She simply nodded. She was mute since birth, which made her perfect as a spy. People thought she was stupid and let things slip. However, she wasn’t stupid. Far from. Voldemort had handpicked her from a small school in Denmark. She understood almost as many languages as he and he usually sent her away on the more delicate missions. Like the one she had been on now. Which was to find his wife’s parents.

She handed him over her file and he read through it with great interest. His eyes widened when he came to the end of it.

“They were members of the WFM?” he asked.

Miss Smith nodded and gave him a member’s card. He stared at it. WFM, or Wizard Friendly Muggles, was a society of Muggles who supported their wizard relatives. Or, that was what the organisation told everyone that they were doing. The reality wasn’t as pretty.

Certainly, they had small gatherings now and then and talked about what they knew about the “other” world and supported each other. However, the founders of the society was Muggle scientists who wanted to know where magic came from and hopefully find a way to let Muggles use it. They were especially fond of parents to Muggle-borns. In later years, some of these parents had started to disappear, ending up in labs in other parts of the world where they underwent several experiences which usually cost them their lives. Not many wizards knew about them, however, there was a small part of the ministry who had tried to find them. They had not succeeded yet.

“Any hints on where they may be now?” he asked the woman.

She shook her head slowly.

Voldemort sighed. “Well, they may still be alive. Keep looking. If they are dead, I want to know where they were killed. The least I can do is to let my wife avenge their deaths.”

She nodded. Voldemort threw her a purse of gold and she disappeared. He didn’t pay many of his Death Eaters, but he knew that Miss Smith needed money to get around in the world. Besides, she was worth it.

Forty-five minutes later, he was notified by Lolly that Hermione was back. He told the House-Elf to get Hermione to the laundry room and not to help her in any way. Lolly bowed and left. Voldemort stayed in his office for another hour before he called for Severus through the Mark. Just a couple of moments later, the Potions Master showed up.

“You have a perfect timing, my Lord,” Severus said and bowed. “My last class just ended.”

Voldemort smiled. He knew that. “I hope everything is set for tomorrow? Dumbledore has granted you a vacation?”

“Yes. Slughorn will be covering my classes for two weeks.”

“Excellent. We will be leaving tomorrow around noon. Unfortunately, we will have to stay at a Muggle hotel. I have booked a whole penthouse so we won’t be disturbed by those filthy Muggles.”

“I’m very grateful, my Lord.” Severus hesitated.

“What?” Voldemort asked.

“I… I was simply thinking… Your wife will join us, I expect?”

Voldemort nodded, having a feeling what Severus wanted.

“Perhaps it would be… fun for her if she had a female companion? Someone she can do all those… girlish things, like shopping and getting a tan…”

Voldemort chuckled. “If you want to bring Miss Radcliff, I have already considered it and I accept. She may be useful. But if she breathes one word about what we are doing, I won’t hesitate to shut her up for good. Understood?”

“Of course, my Lord. She has no reason to be anything but loyal to our cause.”

“I’m aware of that; otherwise I wouldn’t have let her come. But if you can’t keep your head out of the gutter, I will send her home.”

Severus smirked. “I understand.”

“Good. And remember to bring all your research about South American Potions. Especially about the change in the native populations Potions expertises around the seventeenth century.”

That was the reason why Voldemort wanted him to come. No one knew why, but around the time Europe and America found out about each others existence, the native habitations in South America had began to make the most extraordinary Potions. Many believed that it was European knowledge mixed with American, but after Hermione had discovered the diary about from the man who had seen one of the Cups in Brazil, Voldemort wasn’t so sure. What if they had some how got their hands on a Cup and it had taught them all the new things? It was worthwhile to investigate, and since Severus knew so much about South America, Voldemort had ordered him to come.

Voldemort waved his hand and Severus bowed and left again. Probably to tell Miss Radcliff about their romantic vacation. Voldemort snorted. If it weren’t for Hermione being friends with the werewolf, he would not have let her come. Nevertheless, he could need someone to distract his wife. And Miss Radcliff was a much more suitable friend than Potter and the Weasleys.

Late in the evening, he returned to his and his wife’s room. She was already there, lying on the bed with her arms over her head. He went over to her and saw that she had rubbed her hands raw on the laundry. He smirked.

“I hope that will teach you lesson,” he said.

She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Could you are least heal them?”

He chuckled. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I can’t hold our son. And if I can’t hold him, I can’t feed him.”

He considered it. “Okay. Hold them up.”

She did. He grabbed one quite hard. She winced. He ignored it and just healed the broken skin. She let out sigh in relief.

“So, where did you take Potter?” he asked as he took of his robe.

“You need not to worry about that,” she answered him and got up from the bed. “Because you will have nothing more to do with him.”

He smiled and shook his head as she swayed away to the bathroom. Probably to brush her teeth. He liked that about her. No matter what happened, she always brushed her teeth two times every day. If she didn’t he wouldn’t kiss her… not so often anyway.

He followed her into the bathroom and as he had expected, she was brushing her teeth. He took his tooth brush and followed her example. Hermione looked at him through the mirror. It was an ordinary mirror, not one of those who kept talking. He hated them. They were annoying. He looked back at her with an arched eyebrow.

She spat in the sink. “I have never seen you brush your teeth before.”

He spat as well. “I do it everyday.”

“Okay,” she said, washed off her toothbrush and left the bathroom.

He finished and then went out as well. He picked up a book from the coffee table and went over to the bed. Hermione was already there, reading as well. He took off his pants and crawled under the blanket.

“Have you thought about how seldom we go to bed together to sleep?” she asked and lowered the book.

He frowned and looked at her. “Do we?”

“Yeah, unless we have sex.”

“Oh…” He looked at her, still frowning. “Is this one of your unnecessary complicated ways to tell me you want to have sex?”

She snorted. “No, I’m just making a statement. I’m too tired to have sex.”

“Okay.” He turned his focus to the book again.

She put her book on the bedside table and sank down in the bed. “We have to come up with a name for our son.”

Figuring that he wouldn’t get to focus on the book when she was awake, he sighed and put it down on his bedside table. “We are not giving him a boring name.”

“What’s boring about Peter? Or Richard? Or William?”

“They are ordinary Muggle names,” he explained for the fifth time. “What is wrong with Salazar?”

“He will be teased!”

“Not if they want to live,” he muttered and rearranged his pillow so he could sink down in the bed.

“You will not threaten other children, Voldemort. He will not have any friend!”

Voldemort sighed and turned to his side so he could look at her. “Friends are overrated.”

“No they are not. You didn’t have any friends and look what happened to you!” she said, annoyed.

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you imply that there is something wrong with me?”

“You mean there isn’t?” she sneered. “For Merlin’s sake, you are over seventy and you look like thirty-something.”

“And most people envy me for it.”

“It isn’t natural,” she hissed.

“So you would rather be married to someone who looked like seventy?”

“No! If I got to decide, I wouldn’t be married at all! But that’s beside the point. I’m getting tired of calling him ‘baby’, we need a name. Or even a nickname!”

Voldemort sighed and reminded himself not to let her know that Dumbledore had come up with a way to break the Contract. “I agree; we need a name. Although, I’ll not stand for anything plain…”

“Or we could just give him something plain now and then when he grew up he could change it to You-Know-What.” She turned away from him, clearly angry.

He looked at her back. She had the white sheet up to her breasts, but it hung down at the back. He found himself thinking what a lovely back she had…

“I think I understand why we don’t go to sleep together unless we have sex,” he said dryly.

She huffed and pulled the sheet higher up over her body. Voldemort sighed and turned to his back.

“What about Taranis?” he asked after a while.

She was quite for a while and he started to think that she had fallen asleep.

“We could name him after an ancient god,” she finally said. “But not Taranis.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked, a bit irritated.

“Let’s sleep on it.”

“Fine.”

xxx

Hermione was glad that she had eaten her breakfast before she read the newspaper, because she felt a bit sick when she read it. Her interview had been published. It went on and on about how much she adored her husband. Of course, Rita Skeeter had put in a little extra. Lines like; “She smiles and her eyes twinkle as she tells me about their love for the child…” and “She starts to giggle and blush when I ask her about their love life…”.

In short, Hermione sounded like a love sick puppy. Voldemort, of course, thought it was excellent. He was annoyingly happy the whole morning.

“Have you thought about a name yet?” he asked as he packed down some robes into a backpack.

Hermione was breastfeeding their son. He took his time these days. She usually sat half an hour before he was done. “Yes, how about Neptune?”

He wrinkled his nose. “No. But I like Roman Gods. How about Domitius?”

She arched an eyebrow. “From the God of marriage? He who makes sure the wife stays in her husband’s house? Are you trying to be funny?”

He chuckled. “Yes.”

She made a grimace. “Then no. Lares?”

Now he made a grimace. “I’ll be the one doing the protecting of the house and family, thank you very much.”

“Then it’s a shame that you are the one we mostly need protection from,” she said matter-of-factly.

He muttered something and turned to the backpack again.

Hermione looked down at their child. His hair was black and thankfully not as curly as hers used to be. His eyes were brown, although, they seemed to change in shade every day.

“How about Dmitri?” she asked. “Or Dominic?”

He stood up, finally down with the packing. “Well, we have left the gods. What made you think about those names?”

“I just… he looks like a D.”

“Come again?” He went up to her.

“Well, haven’t you ever looked at a person and thought ‘he seems to have a name that begin with an A’?”

He blinked. “No, I don’t really care about peoples names.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I think he looks like a D-person.”

Voldemort was quite as he looked down at his son. He placed his hand on the baby’s head and ran his fingers through the soft hair. “Dominic sounds like a Gryffindor. But Dmitri… I don’t know anyone named Dmitri. Yes, it may work.”

Hermione smiled and stroked her little son’s cheek. “Did you hear that, honey, you got a name!”

The baby just continued to suck on her breast.

“Well, at least he isn’t protesting,” she mumbled.

Voldemort still held his hand in the boy’s hair. He seemed to be thinking. Hermione ignored him when he felt how Dmitri’s mouth left her breast. Before she had time to move him Voldemort lifted him up. He stared at the child. The child stared back at him. Hermione felt a tingle run up her spine when a brush of magic went through the room.

Voldemort gave the baby back to her.

“What did you do?” she asked curiously.

Her husband shrugged. “Just a name based protecting charm. Dmitri Salazar Riddle will now be protected against most small charms and jinxes.”

She looked at him in surprise.

“What?” he asked. “I do take care of what’s mine. Are you ready to go?”

“Sure. Will we be flying?”

He smirked. “Of course. We can’t Apparate around the globe, dear.”

She shuddered. “I think I need to go to the bathroom again.”

Voldemort snorted.

Half an hour later, they were standing on the Apparation point. Hermione felt her stomach clench at the thought of flying over the Atlantic for three hours. Even if she trusted (or knew) Voldemort enough by now to know that he wouldn’t push her into the ocean, she was afraid she would drop the baby. He was so small!

She confessed her worry to Voldemort.

“Well, then Miss Radcliff can hold him,” Voldemort said and took Dmitri from her.

Hermione’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Is Reya coming?”

“Yes, Severus insisted on it.”

“Oh…” Hermione bit her lip. “What if I need to feed him during the flight?”

Voldemort sighed. “Then we will stop and you’ll feed him. Merlin, Hermione, you are becoming too worried for your own good.”

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. “If we could just move to some place of our own, I wouldn’t have to worry about you and your Death Eaters using him in some Dark Ritual.”

He arched his eyebrow. “I thought we were talking about this flight?”

She scowled at him, but before she had time to retort, Snape and Reya Apparated into view. They both bowed.

“Finally,” Voldemort said and took up his broom. “Miss Radcliff will be carrying Dmitri.”

Reya frowned. “Dmitri?”

Voldemort held up their son who he had placed in a carrying bag. Reya smiled and took the baby. Hermione remembered what she had said about always wanting a child and not being able to get one. She felt sorry for the other woman.

They all mounted their brooms, Hermione in front of Voldemort, and then they took off. Hermione closed her eyes and tried to become as small as possible in her husband’s embrace.

“We have to do something against your fear of flight, Hermione,” he muttered into her ear. “This is pathetic.”

“I happen to prefer Apparation, or the Muggle way of travelling,” she hissed back.

He huffed something.

After almost two hours, they stopped on one of the small islands of Cape Verde to rest and feed the baby. They landed on a small beach and Voldemort took the opportunity to make them change their clothes into Muggle outfits. He picked up a dark green halter neck dress for his wife.

Hermione stared at it. “This isn’t mine,” she said.

“It is now,” he said calmly and took the baby from her so she could change.

Hermione took her wand and with a quick movement, she changed. The dress fitted perfectly. She pulled her hand over the material. It was made of cotton and it must have some sort of warming spell on it, because she didn’t freeze. She guessed it would be perfect in Brazil where it would be around seventy to ninety degrees Fahrenheit this time of the year.

She looked up and saw Voldemort look at her with a half a smile and half lidded eyes. He was dressed in black pants and a green shirt. He had also put a glamour over his eyes so they had almost the same brown colour as hers. No one would suspect him for being a Dark Lord.

“Don’t I have to wear a glamour?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, we will be around Muggles… and even if we meet wizards, I doubt they will recognise either of us.”

“Okay.” She pulled her fingers over the material again.

“You know… that dress will look much better on you if you didn’t wear any knickers,” Voldemort said with a wicked smile.

Hermione smacked her lips. “I won’t sit on the broom, in a dress, without any knickers.”

“Pity. I thought we could… have some fun.”

Hermione glared at her husband. “Professor Snape and Reya will be there.”

Voldemort rolled his eyes. “I don’t think we will have to worry about them,” he said before he turned toward the bushed were the two love birds had disappeared and yelled; “Are you done yet?”

Hermione doubted they had only changed their clothing, like they said they would. Especially when Reya exited with a mischievous smile on her face. She was wearing black jeans and a red t-shirt, which showed off her cleavage. Hermione was a bit envious of her for that.

Voldemort looked at the female werewolf amused. “And where is Severus?”

Reya chuckled. “Oh, he had to get… rearranged.”

“I see.”

In that moment, Snape escaped the bush as well. He was wearing black pants, similar to Voldemort’s, and a black shirt. He was scowling and Hermione tried not to look at the bulge on front of his pants.

They took off again. This time, Hermione held the baby in the carrying bag.

She leaned against her husband’s shoulder. “They are going to shag like bunnies, aren’t they?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” he answered. “However, I’ll keep Severus busy for most of the time.”

Hermione smiled and closed her eyes. If she didn’t have to see where they were flying, it wasn’t too bad. And perhaps she did trust her husband a little.

They arrived in Brasília, the capital of Brazil, around the same time as they had left England. Reya was the only one who was surprised and Snape kindly told her about the concept of time differences in different parts of the world. Reya blushed and muttered that she knew that... she just hadn’t thought about it.

Brasília was a very lively city and Hermione could see that Snape and Reya were quite uncomfortable. Voldemort was holding her hand hard as he led her and the others through the streets. People seemed to get out of their ways, or rather, Voldemort’s way. Hermione tried not to look at the beggars who were sitting on the streets. Some of them seemed to be handicapped, but they went past them so quickly she wasn’t sure.

One small, South American young man ran into Voldemort. He muttered an excuse and made an attempt to get out of the way, but Voldemort took his hand and crushed his fingers. The young man winced.

“No es bueno robar,” he hissed to the man before let go off his hand.

The young robber nursed is hand and with a last scared look on Voldemort, he ran off.

Hermione looked at her husband with narrowed eyes. “How did you know he was a robber?”

“I could feel his hand in my pocket,” Voldemort mumbled and continued to walk. “Muggles…”

After a moment, they turned and found themselves next to a gigantic white building with a very modern architecture. Kubitschek Plaza was written on the side of it. Hermione couldn’t help but to stare. Voldemort muttered something and dragged her inside. The reception looked very classy with grey, brown and white stone floor. Snape and Reya went to sit in one of the golden suites of armchairs and sofas. Voldemort made a gesture for her to sit with them before he went to the desk.

The receptionist was smiling at him and her smile widened when Voldemort began to talk. The woman looked almost ecstatic. She kept nodding and made gesture with her hands. She gave him a key and called for someone to carry their luggage. Voldemort went over to them with a satisfied grin.

“We have the Kubitschek Suite. Which means we have a whole floor to ourselves. It’s usually used by Muggle ministers and presidents. Come along,” he said and helped Hermione up.

A porter came and took their two bags. If he was surprised over their lack of luggage, he didn’t comment on it. He led them towards the lifts. Hermione didn’t think about it until she stepped in and noticed that she was the only one who was doing it. She looked at her husband who had stopped. He seemed to hesitate.

She arched her eyebrows and he made a small grimace and stepped inside. The other two followed. The door closed and Reya let out a gasp when they began to move. Snape eye’s widened a bit. Voldemort seemed unaffected, but Hermione could see his hand turn into a fist. Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Most wizards really should spend more time among Muggles.

A couple of minutes later, they stepped out in a very big living room. It had neutral earthy tones of beige, reddish brown and orange. It was very luxurious, big and… plush. Big overblown sofas in beige with golden edges. The biggest TV she had ever seen was somehow placed into the brown wooden wall. A double door was open, showing a big white bed with dozens of pillows on top. Next to it, she could see a wall of mirrors which probably hide a closet behind it. There were three other, closed wooden doors.

When Hermione turned around again, Voldemort had got rid of the porter.

“They have set up a double bed in the office,” Voldemort said. “You can go and unpack.”

Snape bowed and took Reya into one of the rooms. Curious, Hermione opened the second door and found a kitchen in the same colours as the living room. It held a couple of machines that even Hermione had no idea what they did. She left the kitchen and opened the third door. Behind it was a big bathroom with all you needed, even a Jacuzzi.

“That will be Severus’ and Miss Radcliff’s bathroom,” Voldemort said and came up to her. “Ours is connected to our room.”

He led her through the living room and up to the master bedroom. She saw their backpack standing on a large truck at the end of the bed. Someone had also placed a crib in the room. Hermione put Dmitri in it and went to look into the bathroom. It looked like the other, only bigger with a long bench under two sinks.

“That bathtub is a Muggle invention I won’t mind using,” Voldemort purred into her ear.

“Randy bastard,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “Only for you, wife.”

Hermione couldn’t resist smiling. Voldemort could be very charming when he wanted. She wondered why he was this time. When she asked him, he chuckled.

“You are becoming more superstitious,” he remarked dryly and pushed her into the room.

“I learn from the best,” she retorted and tilted her head when he closed and locked the door. “What are you doing?”

“Flying always makes me tense. I want another one of your massages and I want it now.” He started to undress.

Hermione watched him with a raised eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to give you one?”

He shrugged and took off his pants. “Then I will leave the hotel, tensed and bad-tempered and try to find some evidence that one of the Cups has been here. And if I fail to find anything, I will be even angrier and… do I really have to continue?”

She frowned as he turned to fill the bathtub with water. “That’s blackmailing!”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Yes?”

She scowled and crossed her arms. “I hate you when you say things like that.”

“Oh, you mean that there are actually times when you don’t hate me?” He went over to her in all his naked glory. The water was running behind him.

She scowled even more. “It would be quite unnecessary to go around and hate you all the time. It wouldn’t make either of us happy.”

He sighed and his hand came up into her hair. “You are right. We shouldn’t go around and hate each other all the time. After all, we are married. Perhaps we should start to work as a couple… without me blackmailing you into doing it. It really is a vast of time.”

Hermione frowned. “What are you suggesting?”

Voldemort smiled. “If you joined me… truly joined me… you would actually get to know what I do and have something to say about it.”

She couldn’t help but to wonder about her husband’s sanity. “Voldemort, you kill people like me because you think my blood it dirty. And you don’t let any of your Death Eaters have an opinion on what you do, why would you let me?”

He sighed and pulled her into a hug. Hermione wondered if this was a new technique of his, seducing her into following him. Not that it would work, she knew her husband far too well by now.

“We could overlook the fact that you are a Mudblood. I barely think of you as one any more. And I do listen to your opinions. I let both your friends go, didn’t I?”

“That was because I did something for you,” she muttered and pulled out of his embrace. “Why is this so important for you now?”

He looked down at her. His hands still on her hips. His eyes were still brown and it made him look… less Dark Lord-y. But she wouldn’t succumb. She wouldn’t…

“I’m tried of constantly having to watch my back around you,” he muttered. “I want you to be my partner. You could help me so much.”

“And I want you to stop killing and terrorising people,” she muttered back. “Looks like neither of us will have what we want.”

“But we could, don’t you see that?” he asked and finally let go off her. He started to walk back and forth. “With you by my side, ordinary people will start to look up to me. I’ll finally reach those who never wanted to hear me before. I won’t have to blackmail them to do my bidding.”

“The Order will never help you, no matter what I say,” she commented.

He stopped and looked at her. “With your help, they might. They don’t realise it, but our people need me! In the way we are going now, the Muggles will overthrow us. They are breeding like rats…”

“Okay,” she interrupted. “So once you have all wizards under you, what will you do?”

He smiled. “If you are curious, you should follow me.”

“You will do something drastic and kill them all, won’t you?” she asked with a tired sigh.

Voldemort didn’t answer at once. The bathtub was almost full, so he turned off the sprinkles and jumped in. He let out a satisfied sigh. “Hermione. Tell me one good thing the Muggles have done.”

Hermione stared at him. “Well, they have invented a lot of things.”

“In what way is that good?” he asked.

“Well, the medicines are very helpful…”

“They are also good when you want to poison someone. Something else.”

Hermione thought for a while. “Democracy.”

Voldemort snorted. “Oh, give me something harder. In most countries, half the people don’t even bother to vote because they don’t care what happens to the world. And it’s more about smooth talk than doing something good for the country. I don’t think many of the Muggles know what they’re voting for.”

“The wizards aren’t perfect!” she hissed and stepped up to him next to the tub. “You certainly aren’t! Many Muggles I know are very kind and helpful and friendly…”

“Oh, yes… you can get far with kindness. You can get even further with money and power,” he answered ironically.

“Cold-blooded bastard! And you want us to be partners? How could I ever work with someone who thinks the most important thing in the world is power?” She stormed out of the bathroom and threw herself on the bed. Merlin, she hated him so much!

She could feel a tear run down her cheek. He was such a hypocrite! Slimy, heartless, negative, manipulative, treacherous megalomaniac!

She cursed her husband a bit more, but then turned over to her back and sighed. He was right about one thing; they really needed to become a couple. There was no use for them to be miserable forever. She had to come up with something…

After fifteen minutes or something, she had cooled down. She rose from the bed and went into the bathroom again. Voldemort was still in the bathtub and he had somehow managed to make it bubble. He had his hands behind his head and his eyes closed. He seemed happy. Hermione frowned and closed the door behind her. Voldemort opened his eyes and seemed surprised to see her.

“I thought about what you said,” she mumbled and went up the bathtub.

Voldemort arched his eyebrow. “You did?”

She ignored his surprised tone. “Yes. You are right.”

He smiled smugly. “I know I’m right…”

Now she scowled. “Not about everything. But you were right when you said that we have to become partners.”

His smile disappeared and he tilted his head. “I see. Why do you think so?”

“I don’t want our child to grow up with two parents who hate each other. It’s not good for his mental health. And the Healer did say that he may have problem as it is because of the curse…” She bit her lip again.

“Continue,” he requested.

“My first thought was to leave you and take Dmitri with me. However, because of the Contract, we have to live together. I suppose we can take holidays in different places… although, I don’t know what happens if we stay away from each other for too long. Probably not anything good.”

“Probably not,” he said with a small smile.

“Right. So my second thought was that we stop talking with each other. But then again, if we live together, we will have to raise the child together. That means communication.” She sighed. “It would be weird if we only speak about Dmitri, and I presume our techniques will be quite different, so we will probably end up fighting anyway.”

He simply nodded.

“My third thought actually was that… I would join you. But then I thought about it and… I can’t. What you do… What you believe… It’s against everything I have ever learned. You’ll have to rip away my memory and replace it with a new one if that is to work.”

“That could be arranged,” he said thoughtfully.

She scowled. “Don’t even think about it. If you remove such a big part of my life, I’ll probably loose a lot of my intellect, and I won’t be able to help you find the Cups.”

He sighed. “Yes, you’re right. It’s too dangerous even for me.”

“Good. So… my fourth thought was that… we simply have to compromise like every other couple.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “Hermione, we are like day and night. You can’t compromise day and night.”

“Yes you can, it becomes either dusk or dawn. We have to do the same… meet halfway. We can’t continue like this. It’s obvious that there is no way out from this marriage.”

“And what compromises did you have in mind?”

She nibbled her lower lip for a moment. “We have to stop lying to each other.”

He blinked. “Are you lying to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not this moment. And I’m not saying we have to tell each other everything. However, we shouldn’t lie when the other one asks a question. If we don’t want to answer the question, we’ll just say so.”

“So if I ask you where you took Potter…?”

“I’ll say that it’s none of your business and I won’t answer it,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Ah…” He seemed to think about it. “But if I ask you what you are going to do today?”

“I would tell you the truth.”

He smirked. “So, if I ask you whether or not you want to step into this bathtub and have some sort of sexual intercourse?”

She rolled her eyes again.

“What?” he asked. “I know you like to have sex with me.”

“It can be pleasurable,” she admitted. “However, I won’t touch you until you give me an oath not to lie to me.”

He arched his eyebrows. “An oath? I won’t even consider giving you an oath like that unless you do the same.”

She shrugged. “Or we could just write it in the Contract.”

He sighed. “I’ll think about it.” He sank down in the bathtub so the water reached his neck. Then he took a deep breath and disappeared under the surface.

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bathtub. What was he doing? She frowned, and in the next second, his head broke the surface. He pulled his now dripping hair backwards before he rose. Hermione, a heterosexual woman as she was, couldn’t help but to stare at his wet body. The water only reached his knees. She couldn’t resist smiling. If she only saw her husband as a sex-object, it would be so much easier to live with him. Only use him for her naughty fantasies… have him tied down on the bed all the time. Yes, that would be the ultimate solution. Unfortunately, her husband would probably try to kill her if she tried to tie him down.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked and finally stepped out of the bathtub and used one of the hotel’s towels to dry himself. “I know my body is perfect, but…”

She sighed. “You always ruin it by talking.” She rose from the edge of the bathtub. “Are we going to do anything else today or shall I go before we start to fight again?”

“You may have a look in the town… as long as you take Besch with you. Severus and I have to go through some things. Hm… you should bring Miss Radcliff as well.” He put the towel around his waist. “Be back at seven for dinner.”

She hesitated. “I want us to continue to discuss our relationship tonight.”

He sighed. “We’ll see.”

Figuring that she wouldn’t get a better answer than that, she left the room. Perhaps Reya could help her make Voldemort a bit poorer at least?
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The Contract