Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Plenitude	By : HeavyMist Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 60689 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in Harry Potter belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission. I only own the plot.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer : The characters and canon situations in Harry Potter belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission.

Disclaimer : The Information used in this story about Naga are property of Wikipedia.org,

A/N: For the story purposes not all the Information narrated about Naga are reliable, if you want to learn more check this link

Naga : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/N%C4%81ga

Please Read Review and Rate? Enjoy :]

HM

PS. Thank you hubby of mine for proofreading, beta’ing , all errors are mine, obviously;]

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

‘Flashback’

Chapter 23: Mahādeva "Great God”, Maheśvara "Great Lord"

It was not as awkward as she thought it would be, sitting around the Lunch table, with the Dark Lord, in the company of the Minister of Magic, and the ex-potions professor Severus Snape aka the Chief, having a polite conversation. More than ever after this morning’s …what could she call that half an hour? Tryst? Training? Awakening? Illumination?

In a sense it was all of those and more. It was a moment where past and present were superimposed, like two twin images, but the upper one was more detailed, colorful, filled with realizations and truths, which she did not want to face before, or rather she was too busy not being, to be aware of. Now the newly discovered parts of her were catching up with her, encroaching on her ‘past’ self, who only existed.

The flat almost monochrome illustration of ‘her’, which represented her bland past, was now being restructured, with standing out embossments, relief, depth, and curves, becoming tangible, basically filling every one of her blanks. All thanks to her supposed “enemy” Lord Voldemort, who was indeed keeping his word, sculpting her, chiseling away layers of stony years, giving her back her genuine self!

Oddly, his cool, calm and collected approach, after their…No, her eureka moment, add to it, his ability to switch personalities, and fast, like he always does, from the sensually playful mood, to the clear-headed and casual attitude, for once, was more helpful than difficult to cope with. Consequently, deep down she intuitively knew, he did it for her sake, she acknowledged. He gave her the chance to calm down and regroup. He even gave her time to put some order in her appearance, by visiting the restroom adjacent to his office, which existence she discovered for the first time.

After her short break, she came back to see him sitting behind his workstation, He looked up, searching her face, thoroughly, his eyes keen, as if he was looking into the deepest part of her, then he took a book from the shelves, near his desk and without preamble he declared, “ We will be having Lunch with the Minister of magic, and Severus in a couple of hours, until then I would like you to read this book, we will discuss it later.”

The book was old, very old by the looks of it, a substantial Leatherbound tome, with metal protection on its four corners, with a metal lash to close it, in the middle. It reminded her of the old bibles, she used to see on Sunday, in church when she was a kid and attended the mass with her parents.

She took it, it was heavy, sitting down, facing his workstation, in the sitting area, she caressed the old worn volume. It was definitely a valued treasure; she gathered from its condition, cared for, she noticed that. The leather cover despite the ancient aspect still had the particular smell of buff and wax used to keep cracks and corrosion of leather at bay. The smooth buttery material under her fingers was not as worn by age and usage. The smell of old ink and musty parchment was a familiar and comforting odor for her olfactive sense.

There was no title on the outside. As if handling a newborn, she carefully and gently laid it in her lap, and opened the latch in the middle, softly flipped the cover, then turned the first page to read the title, “Immortalis Nagum Genus”. The Latin heading gave her an idea about the book; if she wanted to translate it word for word it would be “ Immortal Naga Kind’ But she thought it was more like the “Immortal Naga beings or creatures”.

Excited about the subject matter of the book, given that she knew Lord Voldemort went to Magical India.

Very few people knew about the remote Naga region, separating the plains of the Indian subcontinent from the Tibetan Plateau. A remote area at the foot of the Himalaya, the well-known mountains range with the highest summit on earth, Mount Everest. The name is derived from Sanskrit, hima (snow) + ālaya (dwelling), literally, "abode of the snow".

In Sanskrit, a Nāgá is a cobra, the synonym for nāgá is phanin. There are numerous terms for "snake", but more often than not; the frequently used name is sarpá in muggle world and magical alike, to specify the non-magical kind of snakes. What differentiates the sarpá from the Nāgá is that the latter is worshiped as an immortal Goddess.

In the muggle Mahabharata, copied from the Magical one, the Nāgá / Sarpá or snakes in general are positive creatures. Called the "persecutors of all creatures", frequently depicted as no more evil or deceitful than other creatures, and oftentimes on the side of good.

This classic Indian Myth- since its Magical counterpart is only available for the Magical community- regularly describes Nagas as having a mixture of human and serpent-like traits and features. The story tells of how the Naga prince Sesha came to hold the world on his head, similar to Atlas in the Greek Mythology who carried the earth on his neck and back. Brahma was pleased with Sesha and handed him over the duty of controlling the world.

The Magical version is a not much different, bar for a specific magical community of Yogis called ‘Nagavanshi’. They consider themselves offspring of Nagas and Guardians/Servants of the Great Goddess, the Naga Snake, or The Immortal Snake.

When the Naga Goddess chooses to bestow the Immortality gift, on a special Wizard or magical Yogi, an event almost never heard of except once, with Sesha, and which never occurred in the last two thousand years, it is alleged that the one chosen will become immortal himself.

It is after producing one single egg, which will hatch into another immortal cobra, to replace the former snake goddess and maintain the species’ existence, that the Nāgá snake is capable of using magic powers to inject its poison into the chosen wizard or Yogi who becomes immortal.

Once the snake’s poison is injected in the privileged individual for immortality, the goddess becomes mortal and subsequently turns into the Familiar of said person, stays with him until its death. In Buddhist painting, the nāga is sometimes portrayed as a human being with a snake or dragon extending over his head.

Hermione’s eyes were eating the words and her heart was hammering in her chest like the wings of a hummingbird. Her eyes and mind were going through the pages, at a supersonic speed, absorbing the knowledge offered to her, and clues to many of her questions, yet she knew he was trying to tell her something very important. He was telling her about how he became immortal, and why there were no Horcruxes. “Oh! Holy Mother of Merlin!!” She blurted out loud.

The deep velvety chuckle of the Dark Lord made her look up his way, with eyes almost bulging out, she snapped her mouth shut fast when she saw his wicked smile stretch his lips in an amused and telling smirk, which she now, and after seeing it many times, was able to decipher it exactly for what it was, a promise to make use of her open mouth, as he sees fit. The shocking part was her own reaction to the tacit promise, and to his knowing smirk! Excitement doesn’t even scratch the surface of her anticipation’s iceberg!

Yet again, she was aware of the conditioning he insidiously was putting her through. Like that wretched dog of Pavlov drooling at the ring of the bell, her bell was his smirk, his look, his effing very existence! Her drooling was in the works, every single time, in both pair of lips, damn it! He was training her like a bitch, and the wicked truth was, she liked it!

She loved the build up, the tingling inside her, the prospect, the anticipation, the guessing game of what he will do to her next. What layers is he going to peel off her and make her face other deeper hidden truths about her inner needs; she did not even know existed in her subconscious, let alone be aware of on the conscious level.

Watching him stand up, his gigantic size absorbing and dwarfing the whole space around him, his more than perfect figure, even his alien face gave him a magnetic aura, an air of beguiling and mysterious authority, a confirmation of his alpha male status, a corroboration to his dominant attitude whether by nature or nurture did not matter, at this stage and time, it was there the whole package of Lord dominance-on-legs Voldemort, and this by itself made it impossible but to follow and obey his supremacy.

It was surreal how this wizard wielded the most mundane of tasks, moves or gestures, increasingly to the most complicated of spells, or situations, and worked them to his benefit and advantage, resembling an advertisement, a personal ad displaying his magnificence!

From the tone of his voice, the way he walked, how he sits, his stance, approach, attitude, to the flick of his wand, or hand, a nod of his head, to simple orders uttered in a level tone, not once she heard him scream, or yell, even when angered! Always in control of himself and surroundings, and to hammer the nail of his superiority in, he had it all wrapped up with a magnificent Greek carving like physique, and radiating animal magnetism.

He turned each aspect of himself into a tool at his disposition. People around him tended to forget his snake like alien face after a couple of minutes! She was not any different. What’s more astonishing is that all of these characteristics are innate, it is his inherent behavior, intrinsic to his personality, it was not a fake model, or a rehearsed self-image enhancement for public scrutiny.

Hell no! Like all the lesser subjects, they perspire, stutter, feel awkward and all those flaws and imperfections show, despite their best efforts, he on the other hand, captivatingly smooth as silk, over iron hard willpower, with no effort at all, is simply himself. He exudes it like others sweat! It is his true nature, simply working like a charm, no pun intended, all of these traits come to him naturally, easily, because they are there, part of him, similar to how he sweats or breathes.

“Like what you see…I assume?” He asked sarcastic, she didn’t have to look at her reflection in a mirror to know she was blushing; gawking at him like that, she thought inwardly of all the magenta tints that were now a permanent part of her facial skin tones, all because of him, irked by his self-conceited comment, that oddly enough was also part of his appeal, she replied, looking him straight in the eyes, with an upward tilt to her stubborn chin “you know what the say about the verb assume…Sir.”

He sniggered, lips lifting up, on one side, in a crooked grin, he moved to stand in front of her, placing an index finger under her chin, he pulled her face all the way up to look down at her, his grin widening to reach the other side of his lips, eyes gleaming in a weird mixture of amused hunger “Your face does not lie slave…you do like me as much as I do you”.

Again with that unique modulation of the word ‘slave’! And his puns and insinuations. She was worried now that the “disgusting” term was not having the same appalling effect on her! The way he’s always voicing it nowadays, was having a diametrically opposite result. She knew what the word meant, but she couldn’t sum up the distraught feelings that came with it like the first time she’d heard him say it.

Now it’s more reminiscent of an intimately close couple’s often expressed endearment. Using the ‘slave’ time and again, made it clear it by no means indicated her status or rank in his eyes, and to be honest with herself, hers as well! It had lost its derogatory feel in the narrow sense of the word. In addition, the deep huskily sultry, and wickedly silky voice, is giving the softly intoned remark, a totally licentious new meaning. Replacing the injurious connotation by a whole new spectrum of not so subtle depravity innuendos and closely reciprocated debauchery.

To top it all, with his cherry on the cake, aside from the icing, the ‘slave’, rolling on his lips and tongue, indicated an intimacy, indecent it may be, however he was proclaiming it was her who is appreciated, prized and above all solely belonged to him. It was true in a sense, the ‘slave’ word was theirs alone, since he never called her slave when in the company of others, only when alone did he caress her frayed nerves with it, because…Merlin’s staff …he always says it like a caress, a vocal stroke, as if he’s remembering her sucking him off, or he licking her dry. A licentious path into recollections of carnal experiences, a shameless declaration for depraved deeds to come.

In any case, she was losing her outrage as far as this ‘slave’ was concerned; she was taking it in stride now, no she was taking it as a guarantee of his intentions, and worse looking forward to them! A reflexive adjustment on her part induced by his repetition, his habituation. He’s breaking her in gradually, she’s unable to resist, or maybe…not wanting to? Still it wasn’t time for such considerations!

“Be that as it may, sir, it is not …what I wish to discuss now,…if you do not mind… I wanted to ask about the purpose of letting me read this book” She was genuinely curious to know if her theory, about him being the Naga’s chosen Immortal of this millennia or not, is correct, and in the same time, she wanted to change the whole subject about her likings and his doing who, and whatnot!

Bending slowly towards the witch, forcing her to lean back and stick to her seat, like the last time, another déjà-vu, he squeezed her thighs between his legs, and imprisoned her between his stretched arms, hands resting on the couch’s back top edge. He tilted his nose less face to hers, eyes glittering with glee, he inched his way to her neck, exhaling warm breaths on her hypersensitized cutaneous sensory cells, the tiny hairs, standing on end, he whispered softly, lips touching her outer ear, while nibbling between each word on her lobe “ because.. I am a good Master… who gives his slave …what she needs …without her asking …at the right time…in the right way”

Hermione closed her eyes, engulfed by his domineering presence, taken by his warm breath, his lips and teeth, sucking and nibbling, electrified by the tiny playful bites, on that sensitive spot on her neck, which she discovered lately, thanks to him!

She wanted him to stop and at the same time, to continue. Her stomach was now filled with thousands snitches fluttering all around, her spine was electrified with jolts of zapping sensations, with each lick he inflicted on her heated skin, her heavy eyelids tried to open, but couldn’t. Her hands twitched, just wanting to reach her nipples, to twist them viciously, to stop their escalating itching and tingling, which in turn, wired by nerves as they were to her nether genital organs, they awakened her dormant beast of voracious lust and wantonness.

Her vagina and clitoris were reacting of their own accord, as if they were alien to her body, the contractions were brutally present, ferocious with their greedy demands for his expert fingers, tongue, lips, and much more. A whimper nearly slipped past her lips, but she caught it at the last minute, with a gasping inhale, until she felt his lips on hers, his tongue like an already proclaimed victor, taking possession of his property, invaded her mouth, after licking her lips, with the tip, in a fast circular motion.

Subduing her mere resistance under his onslaught, wrapping his tongue around hers, pulling it to his mouth, then shoving it back to her cavity, withdrawing and entering, time after time, just like he did with her nether lips.

The witch was high on his expert kisses, not wanting the sensations to end; he was an excellent kisser, reanimating her whole body, from its sexual slumber, just like in a mouth-to-mouth procedure, to bring it back to life, metaphorically and literally.

Retreating as suddenly as he started his assault, he leered sucking and licking at his lips, which were red and swollen, not a hair width separated their mouths, he was looking into her dilated eyes, ”Fucking…delectable! Fucking your mouth …in any which way… is inspiration for more slave” He nipped at her lips with his while exhaling his words.

Standing up, taking the book from her lap, and gently levitating it back to its shelf, leaving her stunned, breathless, heart drumming a tattoo, he went to the small bar in the corner near the sitting area brought two glasses of water, gave her one which she took with both trembling hands, to make sure not to drop it, and sat in front of her, in his usual ankle on knee, one hand stretched out on the couch’s back, he took a sip of his water, put the goblet on the coffee-table and softly uttered his answer to her previous question “I wanted you to read it, because I knew my brightest and smartest witch of her age, was going to reach the right conclusions.”

Still sipping on her water, giving herself time to calm down, she then thought about her list of priorities and what she wanted to know first, she enquired, “You mean to tell me that you were the Chosen by the Immortal Naga Goddess?”

“Yes pet, when I first read about this ritual in the book you were reading, a precious book from Salazar’s library as I should add, I was still at Hogwarts…” Hermione’s heart skipped beat, Godric’s blue balls! She was reading a book that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin??? “It was held, flipped through, read, handled by Salazar effin’ Slytherin!!” She blurted out with a dreamy smile, which was incredibly Luna Lovegood’ish.

His chuckling drew her back from her moment of awe and admiration, he put an end to her drifting musings when he stated” Yes, the book you were reading was in Salazar’s library, but no matter, I waited until I left Hogwarts, as you know, to travel the world and see for myself, the different communities and practices of magic. An educational venture if you will.”

Hermione nodded, enraptured as always by his voice, comments, and clarifications.

“It took me a while to reach the ‘Nagavanshi’ community, since they were more like Tibet monks, and did not like visitors disrupting their daily practice, daily meditation schedules and other disciplines. When I explained my interest in learning new magical skills and wanting to achieve the Illuminated Master degree, as a magical yogi, which is the highest rank a Yogi could achieve, they accepted me in their folds. I stayed there for 5 years pet.”

Wetting his dried mouth with a sip of water, he continued, “I was not allowed into the Sanctum Sanctorum of the Shrine let alone the altar of the Goddess, until my 3^rd year there, where I was counted as the youngest yogi, among the Temple’s guardians, though I was higher than most of them in the ranks as an Illuminated Expert, all I needed was one year to reach the highest degree as an Illuminated Master Yogi.”

“So it takes only 5 years to be an Illuminated Master yogi?!” Hermione asked surprised “ I thought that it should take more than this, maybe 10 to 15 years at least to get the meditation techniques right, aside from other required and mandatory knowledge and diet and yoga exercises.”

Laughing the Dark Lord answered “ No, it took me 5 years, others go through the usual decade and a half or two, to achieve the Master level”

Begrudgingly, she had to admit it, he’s the only one who broke her own score, or rather she’s the one who couldn’t break his! Though she had one of the highest NEWTs marks in the History of Hogwarts he still beat her by being better in DADA, she had an E while he always got an O.

Yeah well what did she expect from Lord I-am-a-genius-Voldemort! And Albus Dumbledore wanted to fight him and win?! What were they thinking? What did they think they knew about him? Until now every single information provided by Dumbledore was proven either entirely wrong or half a truth. Presently she is realizing how well played the headmaster was by this wizard, but still lots of missing pieces she needed to solve the puzzle.

Hermione’s admiration grew unbeknownst to herself, she thought of his talents and skills and how many hours he trained to have had reached this astounding level in only 5 years, Merlin what a prodigy! In everything he does! If what he’s telling her is true, and seems highly likely, then this makes him the only Chosen Immortal known since Sesha! Oh Godric’s sword! He’s the reincarnation of prince Sesha for the ‘Nagavanshi’ Yogis! No wonder they adore and worship him in Asia!

He brought her back to the present as he continued the narration of his training years as a Yogi, “I was allowed to only clean and change the flowers, and keep the temple in order. The Naga snake was rarely present in its special place on the altar. During my 1^st year, as a shrine servant, I’ve never seen it once. Until my fourth year with the Yogis, I was preparing for my last trials to accomplish my Illumination degree as Master yogi, and going up the ranks among the Shrine’s servants, I was permitted to clean the altar of the Goddess. One day I entered, and for the first time in four years It was there. I went through the protocol phases when in the presence of the Snake Goddess, next she spoke to me in Parseltongue, I answered, after that…suddenly… all turned black.”

LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++

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