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The Dragon Chronicles	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 55728 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from this.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
Finally I manage to update as planned! I managed to get it to my beta on time and she was really fast with it! Thank you reverseuniverse!
I’m also caught up with review responses! Or well, some of you had made several reviews and thus I replied to the latest one of them, but I have read all your reviews and I’m so touched by all your encouragement and I love to read your thoughts on the chapters and musings on what to come. Anon review replies can be found on my tumblr page: theladymiya.
Warning! This chapter contains lots of alcohol and anal-sex. If you don’t like it, skip the end of this chapter!

Chapter 22
December started with rain and wind, filling the castle with a bitter chill that ate away at its inhabitants no matter how many layers you wore. Hermione was overcome with sympathy for Ginny who was clad only in a hospital gown while lying on top of the cold metal hospital bed. She was finally ovulating, and it was time for her to make good on her promise to Voldemort to be inseminated with Harry’s sperm.
Hermione hadn’t been sure how Ginny would behave when the day came. She had pictured every emotion: from anger to desperation to even grief. Strangely, it was quite a relief when Ginny only showed determination.
Still, Hermione didn’t want to leave her alone while she did this. It was through her bargaining that this was happening in the first place. She would take care of her friend throughout the whole process.
“Do you think it will hurt?” Ginny asked, after a moment of silence.
“No, I don’t think so. You’ll probably just feel some discomfort when Madam Pomfrey inserts the … instruments,” Hermione said, squeezing Ginny’s hand.
They were in one of the private rooms in the hospital wing. Since it was Saturday, no one would notice that Ginny was missing. Ginny had insisted on keeping it quiet for as long as possible. She would be going to the stay with the twins over Christmas break, and when she returned and began to show she would simply tell everyone that she had celebrated the New Year’s Eve with Muggles and been knocked up. She really didn’t want anyone to think it could be Malfoy’s.
“Do you think our plan will work before August of next year?” Ginny suddenly asked.
Hermione didn’t have to ask which plan Ginny meant. She was talking about the plan to ruin Voldemort and make people rise against him.
“I hope so,” she finally said.
Even if someone was listening, she could easily claim that she was talking about something else. Like a plan to smuggle Ginny out of the country.
That was Hermione’s back up plan in case her first plan failed. She would not let Voldemort get his hands on Ginny and Harry’s child.
Madam Pomfrey entered the room, carrying a tray of different instruments.
“I have never been asked to do anything like this,” Madam Pomfrey muttered. “School children should not be pregnant.”
Hermione sighed. It had taken a bit of convincing to have Pomfrey agree to do this in the first place. Then she had to find instructions for the school nurse on how to do it. It was a Muggle practice after all, but in Brazil, wizards had started to experiment with it as well. They had developed a method that was a lot more effective for wizards than for Muggles, almost guaranteeing that the insemination would take.
“Yes, well, it’s a different leadership now,” Hermione muttered, squeezing Ginny’s hand again. “I’m glad you agreed to do it. It would have been harder if we had had to ask for outside help.”
“I still want what’s best for my students, Headmistress,” Madam Pomfrey informed her curtly. “If this is the least bad alternative for Miss Weasley, then of course I will help.”
Hermione smiled at her, and then turned her head to look only at Ginny’s face, and not the rest of her almost completely undressed body. Ginny had said that she wanted her friend to be there, but Hermione still wanted to give Ginny some privacy.
When Madam Pomfrey said that she was ready, Ginny closed her eyes. Hermione watched as her face cringed up into a grimace as she attempted to take a few calming breaths.
After just a couple of minutes, Madam Pomfrey withdrew. “There, all set.”
Ginny opened her eyes again, the same determination as before shone within them.
“Thank you, again,” Hermione said to Madam Pomfrey.
The school nurse merely nodded, her lips tightly pursed in a way that resembled McGonagall. She was so not happy.
Once Pomfrey had left the room, Ginny got off the bed and started putting on her regular robes.
“So what do you want to do now?” Hermione asked.
“I want to eat my weight in chocolate,” Ginny answered shortly. “I also want to get utterly pissed one last time before I’m properly pregnant, but I doubt we could pull that off since all the secret ways to Hogsmeade have been warded off.”
Hermione smirked. “Oh, you forget, I’m the Headmistress of the school. I don’t need secret ways to get out of it.”
A smile slowly spread over Ginny’s face. “Oh, please tell me you can take me to the Hog’s Head.”
“Ginny, I can take you to the Hog’s Head,” Hermione informed her, grinning broadly.
xxx
Voldemort was standing at the entrance of one of the caves where his dragon herd lived. It was the largest of them and Tolv had claimed it while he was staying there, procreating. In the far back, a fire was roaring and two blue-shimmering eggs were placed in the centre of it.
“How much longer until you have run through the fertility season?” Voldemort asked.
Female dragons were fertile in seasons. Some races were fertile for a few months every year, others could have their fertility window only one month every four years. It seemed to depend on what climate they were living in.
For example, the cycle of the Swedish Shortsnout lasted for two years. They were fertile in the late fall to early winter, usually October to December. The eggs were at their most vulnerable during the first three months, when their shells were growing hard. Thus, it was good that this period was during the dead of winter. There were fewer dangerous creatures around to hurt the eggs, and it was harder for those that were there to get into the snowy mountains where the dragons lived.
Once the shells were fully hardened, around the end of February, it took another year before the dragons broke free of their shells. Half a year after that, their mothers were fertile again and the cycle began anew.
There is only one more, the others can’t lay eggs right now, Tolv answered Voldemort, looking at the smallest of the dragons inside the cave. She was currently asleep, her big dark blue wing covering her head.
“Is there any problems with her?” Voldemort asked with a frown. He wanted every possible dragon that could to procreate. The bigger the herd, the harder it would be for anyone to rip away his immortality.
This is her first season, Tolv explained. Maybe it’s because of the change of Mother?
Voldemort sighed. The magic of the Mother Dragon was much more complicated than the authors of the Dragon Chronicles had known. They had assumed that the Mother was an honorary title for the head of the herd. Because obviously every other female in the herd could lay eggs and become mothers. But Voldemort was starting to understand just how much more there was to it. The procreation wasn’t just between one male and one female dragon, the magic from the Mother Dragon played a part in it too.
Alas, he had no idea what he had to do to get it started. Just as he had no idea how to stop the way his sense of smell had turned into something that tried to make him procreate too.
“I will study it further,” he promised Tolv and pattered his neck. “I will be back in a week. Keep trying.”
Tolv was eager to follow that order and as Voldemort flew away, he could sense Tolv approaching the sleeping dragon.
Voldemort snorted. Teenagers. No matter what species they all just had one thing on their mind.
On his way back to Hogwarts, he stopped by the Ministry to make sure everything was running smoothly.
When he was within range, he Apparated straight from the air into Rockwood’s office. He would tell Voldemort if there were anything that required his attention. It was far better than finding the actual Minister. He would bore Voldemort with questions about what to do with St. Mungo’s Magical Maladies ward and whether they should increase the budget of Azkaban or not.
However, Rockwood wasn’t the only one in his office. Bellatrix Lestrange were standing there too, both hands on Rockwood’s desk, leaning towards the man, clearly enraged.
“—have to do!” she cried before she saw Voldemort standing there.
“My Lord!” she gasped, throwing herself at his feet.
“Bella,” he said, annoyed that he had to be in the same room as her foul odour. “What are you doing here?”
She scrambled to her feet, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m just making sure Rockwood knows what he is supposed to do, my Lord.”
“I hardly need you to tell Rockwood what he should do,” Voldemort replied coldly. “And you know that. Tell me what you are really doing here.”
Bella finally met his eyes. “I was only concerned… Some of the other Death Eaters have been talking…”
“Yes?” Voldemort said. He didn’t have patience to deal with her right now.
“They feel like they no longer have a say about what’s going on at Hogwarts,” she finally admitted.
“They don’t,” Voldemort said, his wand hand itching. “I am personally overseeing the ongoings at Hogwarts. Or do they believe that they themselves know better than me?”
“N-no, of course not my Lord,” Bella said, making herself smaller. “I told them so myself, but … I will tell them again.”
“Do that,” Voldemort said and dismissed her with a wave of his hand before turning to Rockwood again. The other man wasn’t even bothering to hide his gloating smile. Rockwood had never been a fan of Bella.
Bella mumbled a goodbye and then finally Disapparated.
“I don’t know why you bother keeping her around,” Rockwood said, the smile lingering on his face.
Voldemort arched an eyebrow. “Did I ask for your opinion on the matter?”
The smile disappeared and Rockwood’s face returned to its normal stoic expression. “I’m sorry my Lord, I was in no way questioning your decisions.”
“Good,” Voldemort said, conjuring a chair, sitting down in front of the desk. “Now, tell me what has happened here.”
Rockwood only took twenty minutes to summarise what had happened since Voldemort was last there. However, when he reached the end of it, Voldemort sensed that there was something Rockwood was hesitant to say.
“Is there anything else?” Voldemort pressed when Rockwood finally grew silence.
Rockwood, someone who was usually never nervous in front of Voldemort, licked his lips. “You asked me to send someone to Romania to see if they were harbouring any Undesirables.”
“And?”
“I asked one of my most trusted employees to look into it and he did discover that at least one Undesirable is staying with the Dragon Keepers. They have increased their security greatly over the past few months.” Rockwood paused and Voldemort could tell that he wasn’t going to like what came next.
“Did he discover who it was?” he asked.
“No. He was arrested trying to gain access so the headquarters of the Dragon Keepers. Somehow they discovered that he worked for the Ministry. Two days ago, the Ministry of Romania sent an owl proclaiming that if they catch another British spy inside their borders, there will be diplomatic consequences.” Rockwood didn’t meet Voldemort’s eyes but sat with his head bowed. “I’m looking into how my employee could have exposed himself.”
“Make sure your agents know the importance of secrecy,” Voldemort replied coldly. “I will be back tomorrow with new orders.”
As he left the Ministry, he considered his next action. What diplomatic consequences could Romania actually cause? Or was this just the Romanian Minister trying to appear tough? They had got a similar request from Germany and Norway about their treatment of Mudbloods a year ago. It was just politics, a way to make their own population think they were a force of good in the world. In reality, no one really cared about what another country did as long as they kept it within their own borders.
However, he needed to know where his enemies were hiding. It was possible that the Dragon Keeper had increased their security because they were afraid that Voldemort would come after their dragons or something like that. But if Harry was hiding there…
He decided that he would have to send another spy into Romania. But this one, he would pick himself.
xxx
Hermione was the Headmistress of the school and could come and go almost as she pleased. The only one that could stop her was Voldemort, but he had been off with his dragon herd for the last couple of days. Thus, Hermione felt like they could go and she would just inform him of the reason why later on.
It wasn’t like they could have any secret meetings with Order members in Hogsmeade – the place was crawling with Death Eaters.
There were even a couple inside the Hog’s Head. Hermione recognise them, but didn’t know their names. Still, if she didn’t look guilty, she doubted they would confront her on why she was out of Hogwarts. Instead, she went up the barkeep and asked that she and Ginny got their own room where they could “celebrate”. And to keep the fire whiskey coming.
On their way to the bar, they had stopped at the Honeyduke’s and bought every type of candy that had chocolate in them. From Chocolate Frogs to Chocolate Volcanoes (tiny chocolate cakes that spew out hot and spicy chocolate sauce) to regular chocolate pudding. They would no doubt become very sick, but Hermione didn’t care and she doubted Ginny did either. She was frankly looking forward to just screw all responsibilities for the day and spending time with one of her best friends.
When night began to fall, they were both quite pissed and lying down on the table, giggling hysterically.
“... and Filch was just scratching his head, staring at us!” Ginny finished, having told a story about a prank she had pulled off with the twins.
Hermione was laughing so hard that she almost peed her pants. “Oh Merlin, I miss the twins.”
“Hermione you hated them in school,” Ginny reminded her. “You said they disrupted school peace or whatever.”
“Yeah I don’t miss that,” Hermione realised. “Merlin, could you imagine what they’d do if they were students now? They’d drive my husband insane!”
“Oooooh, we should invite them to come back,” Ginny said. “Screw all other plans, just sneak Fred and George into the castle and they can pretend to be ghosts or something and just drive him insane.”
“Or, maybe there is some ghost out there that is already dead and hates him so much that they’d agree to haunt him now?” Hermione mused out loud. “Maybe they’d drive him insane.”
“Or scare him insane,” Ginny added. “Harry always said he was afraid of death and ghosts are dead.”
“Yes, right, they are like … the deadest you can get,” Hermione agreed, picking up the bottle of firewhiskey, drinking straight from it, then making a grimace. “This is still strong. I thought you said I’d get used to it?”
She handed the bottle over to Ginny who took a swing without even wincing. “Practice. Where did you put the Chocolate Brooms?”
“Oh, here,” Hermione said, grabbing the package of the chocolate treat that made your mouth vibrate as you chewed on it. “You know, if these were Muggle treats, they would probably not be chocolate and just vibrate and be sold as sex toys.”
“These can be used as sex toys too,” Ginny informed her.
“How?” Hermione asked, intrigued.
Ginny turned around on the table, so she was lying on her stomach instead, looking down at Hermione. “Well, you can shove it up your twat and then someone will give you oral pleasure and it will start to vibrate.”
“Wow,” Hermione said, trying to picture the sensation.
“Yeah,” Ginny said, sighing wishfully. “Tonks told me about this one time when Lupin did it. He likes chocolate like… unsettlingly much.”
“Ew, I don’t want to hear about what my old professor does in bed!” Hermione winced. “He’s like … old!”
Ginny snorted. “Your husband is older.”
“Yeah but he never taught me anything in school,” Hermione grimaced.
“I wish he would have been our Defence teacher,” Ginny suddenly said.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Why on earth would you want that?”
“Because then he would be dead or insane or captured by centaurs or something by the end of the year,” Ginny continued, before breaking out into giggles again.
Hermione giggled too. “Ooooh, right, yes. Or, he would lose his memory and forget what a big prick he is and then I could just keep him in my bed and say that all he ever wanted in life was to eat chocolate brooms from my twat.”
“Hermione!” Ginny giggled.
Hermione laughed too, hard.
“I think that I could be convinced to do that now as well,” came a voice from the door. “But putting candy inside your ‘twat’ is hardly recommended since it could lead to yeast infections.”
Next to her, Ginny let out a horrified gasp, but Hermione just looked at him with a thoughtful expression.
“Oh, right. I knew that. Sugar is bad for the Ph-balance,” she stated.
Voldemort smiled as he entered the room, closing the door behind her.
“Precisely,” he purred, coming up to her, picking up a forgotten chocolate toffee from the table. “So, what lead you two to have a private party in the Hog’s Head?”
Hermione sat up, moving to his end of the table, letting her legs hang off the end of it. “We are celebrating that Ginny is pregnant.”
Voldemort frowned. “I thought you weren’t supposed to drink alcohol when you are pregnant.”
“It takes up to three days for the egg to become…,” she couldn’t remember the right word, “spermed? So it isn’t any dangers. I think. I mean, if you are drunk and have sex and then become pregnant, no one says it was bad that you were drunk when you had sex so then it can’t be bad to get drunk right after you had had sex, right?”
“I can hardly fault that logic,” Voldemort responded dryly, unwrapping the toffee and putting it in his mouth.
Hermione stared at his mouth as he sucked on the toffee. His mouth looked very alluring. She wished he was sucking on her tongue like that. Or breast. Or toe. Well, almost any body part would do.
She had completely forgotten that Ginny was even in the room, so she leaned forward, capturing his head, forcing him down to meet her in a kiss. The toffee rolled between their tongues, from his mouth into hers and back again. He moved in between her legs and pulled her closer towards him. She crossed her ankles behind the small of his back.
Her body felt like it was burning with need for him. To be filled by him.
He let go of her mouth (the toffee had travelled to her mouth).
“Miss Weasley, I believe you can find your way up to the castle on your own?” he purred, his eyes still on Hermione.
Behind her, Ginny flew off the table, stumbling. That’s when Hermione remembered that she was still there.
“No, no,” Hermione protested, letting go of Voldemort and accidentally swallowing the toffee whole. “Ginny’s drunk, she can’t go up there alone.”
Voldemort growled, but Hermione made it back onto her unsteady legs.
“Oh, hush you, we can still have sex when we get back home, can’t we?” she said, one hand on his chest, the other on the table.
She really needed the room to stop spinning, though. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to do anything.
“Or I can just take you here, now,” Voldemort interjected, picking her up and placing her on the table again, leaning down, kissing her neck.
“Oh, yes, that is a very good point,” Hermione had to admit. However, now she had her eyes open, and she saw that Ginny was also having a hard time staying on her feet. “But Ginny is, or well, is about to be, pregnant and we can’t let anything happen to her.”
Voldemort sighed, but finally leaned back. “Fine. But you will make this up to me once we are back.”
“You can count on it,” Hermione purred. She could hardly remember the last time she had been this horny. Probably not since their wedding night.
With the help of Voldemort, she made it out the door, holding Ginny’s hand.
If it wasn’t for Voldemort, she would have stumbled down the stairs, but he held her firmly around her waist, and she somehow managed to keep Ginny upright as well.
When they came to the bar, she noticed that some Death Eaters rose and bowed, but Voldemort ignored them. Somewhere, in the back of her lust and alcohol clouded brain, she remembered that she had planned to kiss him in public.
Well, now seemed like as good a time as any.
Before Voldemort managed to open the door, Hermione quickly rose on her toes again, let go of Ginny’s hand in favour of grabbing his head. She pressed her lips against his, hotly and was delighted when he returned the kiss, all but pressing her up against the door.
“I thought you said you wanted to wait until we came up to Hogwarts,” he purred after a moment, letting go of her mouth.
“Oh yes, right,” Hermione said, and she didn’t have to fake the blush. She had never been one for public displays and she was painfully aware that everyone was staring at them. It didn’t matter that this was exactly what she had planned, she still had her modesty.
Grabbing Ginny’s hand again, she inclined her head to show that she was ready to leave. Voldemort opened the door for them and they were off into the cold December night.
Hermione didn’t know exactly how they managed to get all the way up to the castle. She was only focused on where her body was pressed against his and fantasising about how she would rip off his clothes once they were alone in their chambers.
The moment they entered the castle, Ginny pulled her hand free from her friend’s. Hermione stopped, blinking in surprise at her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hermione,” Ginny mumbled, not meeting her eyes. Then she hurried away towards the stairs.
Hermione stared after her. “Did she seem upset to you?”
“I don’t really care,” Voldemort said and readjusted his grip around her waist, his hand sneaking into the gap between her blouse and trousers.
Feeling his hand against her bare skin, Hermione completely forgot about Ginny, and was more interested in getting up to their chambers as fast as possible.
Alas, when they reached the fifth floor, there was a gathering of students and teachers. McGonagall was screaming at two students in the sixth year.
“... to duel in the corridor? Just because you have been in one organised duel doesn’t make you a professional! Fifty points each from Ravenclaw and Slytherin,” she yelled.
Then, she seemed to notice that the whispers from the audience had silenced, because she looked behind her and spotted them.
“Headmistress,” she said, only looking at Hermione, ignoring Voldemort completely. “These two gentlemen tried to start a duel over some girl they both think they like. They have destroyed school property and almost caused serious damage to bystanders. Any suggestions for a suitable detention?”
Hermione tried to appear sober. This was important school business. She couldn’t be a drunk Headmistress. Especially not a drunk and horny Headmistress.
She cleared her throat. “They can … repair this corridor by hand. No magic. Oh, and scrub away the scorch marks with their toothbrushes!”
She giggled at her own ingenuity. Toothbrushes! She was so clever.
McGonagall stared at her and Hermione realised that she probably shouldn’t giggle. She pressed her lips together, trying to copy McGonagall’s expression and look disapprovingly.
“Yes, that seems to be a suitable punishment,” McGonagall finally said. “Report to Mr Filch every night after dinner until this corridor have been fixed. Now move along everyone, I know you all have homework to finish!”
The students quickly disappeared in different directions, leaving only McGonagall, Hermione and Voldemort. Only now did McGonagall acknowledge Voldemort’s presence.
“Is she drunk?” she asked in disbelief.
Voldemort chuckled. “Yes. I found her and Miss Weasley in the Hog’s Head.”
“We were drowning our sorrows,” Hermione injected helpfully. “But then my husband came by and now I’m going to drown my sorrows in him instead.”
McGonagall looked both displeased and worried. “And where is Miss Weasley now?”
“Oh, don’t worry, we brought her back to the castle,” Voldemort said. “Now, I believe my wife and I have better things to do than talk to you. Good night.”
“You don’t have to worry, I do want to have sex with him tonight,” Hermione whispered loudly to McGonagall to make sure the older woman didn’t interrupt them like last time.
McGonagall looked very displeased, but just shook her head, leaving the corridor.
As soon as she was gone, Hermione forgot about her and was only interested in Voldemort again. They finally reached their chambers and now she wanted to get naked and more importantly, she wanted him to get naked.
She all but tore his clothes off, finding the best part of him - his cock - already erect and ready to please her.
She got onto her knees and started to lick and kiss his cock as she made short order of her own clothes. When she was finally naked as well, she reared up on her knees to start, kissing him on his mouth instead.
Voldemort moved her backwards until her back was against a wall. She moved her right leg up over his hip and helped him guide himself inside her.
Her sex all but sucked him in, she was already spasming, so close to a climax. Her natural lubrication was almost running down her thighs, she was so ready for him.
She let go of his mouth, throwing her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, just enjoying the feeling of him moving his cock inside her again.
Voldemort’s hand came up to her face, stroking her cheek. “You know what I have been thinking about?”
“What?” she breathed, too focused on his cock to care about his words.
“What it would be like to fuck your tight little arse,” he said, stroking her lips with his index finger.
Hermione let out a groan and even though she had never thought she would ever do something like that, she found herself yearning to try it right there and then.
“You would like that too, wouldn’t you?” he purred.
She nodded, fast. Yes, that sounded very interesting. She wanted to be filled up everywhere by him.
He stuck his index and middle finger inside her mouth.
“Make sure they are good and wet,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you now, would I?”
Frankly, she didn’t think anything he did to her now would hurt, but she followed his order all the same.
His cock was still moving inside her, slow and deep strokes. Her clit was being stimulated by his pubic bone rubbing against it and she wasn’t far away from a climax.
He withdrew his fingers from her mouth and moved them down her body again, in underneath her, between her buttocks.
Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside her as well.
Hermione shuddered by the pleasurable sensation. Never had she considered how sensitive that area was. Together with his cock that was still moving slowly into her cunt, the finger up her arse made her feel even fuller than before.
“More,” she whispered. She felt a strange yearning to see how much she could take at once.
“Relax,” he ordered her and slowly pushed his middle finger into her arse as well.
Hermione let out a long moan of pleasure and started to move herself as much as she could against both his cock and his fingers.
He was the one in control, though, and he wouldn’t let her go as fast she wanted. He was twisting and turning his fingers inside her, making her feel every nerve ending she had down there.
She lost track of time. There was nothing there but the pleasure of his skilful fingers and cock and when he finally withdrew them, she let out a whining sound of displeasure.
“Don’t worry dear, I’m far from done,” he purred and pulled her towards the desk he had been using. He made her lean over it and she happily did because she knew what was to follow.
He spread her cheeks with his hands and mumbled a spell, spreading lubrication over her, forcing some inside her with his fingers. Then she could finally feel his cock at her entrance.
“Relax, Hermione,” he whispered.
She took a deep breath and when she exhaled, she could feel her muscles slowly easing as well.
Right then, he entered her, very slowly.
Hermione had never felt a sensation quite like it. The movement itself wasn’t very pleasing, but there was something highly erotic about the filling sensation. She would have liked something in her cunt as well, but--
Oh, hold on, now that was very pleasing.
Voldemort had started to withdraw slowly and the sensory jolt of pleasure made her toes curl. She let out a moan of pure delight and gripped the end of the desk tightly as he pushed his cock forwards again, a bit faster this time.
Now that she knew what to expect, she started to anticipate the withdrawal of his cock so much so that even the stroke inwards made her shudder in pleasure in anticipation of the heavenly spike of pleasure she knew would occur once he withdrew.
After some five strokes like this, he started to go faster. Her arse had grown used to his size now and she could take him much easier. It hadn’t exactly been painful before, just a bit uncomfortable, but now that feeling had passed and given way to just wave after wave of heightened pleasure.
“Merlin, I’m so close,” she groaned, moving one knee up onto the desk to cause more friction against her clitoris. She hadn’t counted on it also making him plunge even deeper inside her.
She wasn’t complaining though. He was going fast and hard, every inward push shoving her clitoris against the hard edge of the desk and every pull out making her dizzy with pleasure.
Her raging climax swept through her, making her vision turn black and her head fill with clouds.
Above her, she could hear Voldemort let out a groan of pleasure as he came as well, emptying himself inside her.
They were both breathing hard, Hermione wishing she could curl up on top of the desk and just fall asleep, but she didn’t have the energy to move her other leg on top of it.
Voldemort’s softening cock pulled out of her, his come running out of her as well. Thankfully, he quickly mumbled a cleaning spell, making all evidence of his seed disappearing from inside her.
He pulled her up and half carried, half dragged her over to the bed where they both collapsed. Hermione was already half asleep, the alcohol and the orgasm working together like an extra-strength sleeping potion. The last thing she remembered was Voldemort pulling the covers over them before everything went black.
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The Dragon Chronicles