Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 58981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Hello everyone, new chapter! Cookies and thanks to Nerys for betaing and also lots of cookies to those of you who reviewed! Love to hear from you.

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Chapter 23
“Oh, Merlin, this is definitely your child. If this continues, I’ll starve to death in a matter of weeks.”
“Oh, hush, I would never let you die by starvation. And if my unborn child knows what is good for him, he won’t let you starve either.”
Hermione was about to retort, but then, nausea overwhelmed her, and she quickly leaned over the toilet again. Voldemort held back her hair and rubbed her back until she was finished. Then, he gave her a wet towel and allowed her to lean back against him as she shuddered.
“I don’t remember it being this bad with Althea,” she said after a while, her head still against his chest.
“From what I’ve read, this is completely normal,” Voldemort said, completely without compassion.
“That doesn’t help me at all,” she spat.
He sighed. “No, I guess not. Do you think you are able to stand? The council is expecting us in an hour, and it would be good for you to eat something before you have to face them.”
“I don’t want to eat. Just give me some water.”
“If you don’t eat, we’ll just have to repeat yesterday and you don’t want that, do you?”
Hermione pressed her lips together at the memory of her tantrum yesterday when she hadn’t been able to eat anything until the afternoon. Then, she had only done it because Voldemort force-fed her.
“I’ll try eating some crackers,” she muttered and rose with his support.
“Good. You should also try to drink some juice. You’ll need the sugar.”
“Yes, mother,” she mumbled.
Voldemort gave her a stern look. “You do realise, I hope, that your mood swings put me in a very bad mood, and since you have to run to the bathroom when we fuck, I’m very close to take my anger out on some random Muggle?”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “No, I rather let you fuck me while I’m puking.”
He grimaced. “Your morning sickness is very off-putting. I wouldn’t be able to.”
“Well, then just fuck me while I’m sleeping. I mean, you don’t seem to require an active, fully conscious participant since it wasn’t a problem for you to fuck me when I was thoroughly pissed,” she muttered in a low voice and pulled down the package of crackers.
Her mother had bought them for Hermione just before she left five days ago. It had been at the same time her morning sickness had begun, and Helen had promised it would help.
Voldemort opened the fridge and pulled out the orange juice, setting it down on the table with a glass. “You don’t sound like you are okay with that.”
“Of course I’m not happy that you fucked me while I was completely drunk,” she growled. “How would you feel if someone took advantage of you like that?”
“No one would come close enough to do that,” he responded, his voice hard.
“You know, just that is your problem.”
“What problem?”
“You have no compassion whatsoever for the feelings of others. Instead of ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’, you go for: ‘Do unto others what they can’t do unto you’.”
“And?”
Hermione let out a growl and let her head fall down against the table. There was no use. He was impossible.
“Since you don’t have anything else to say, I suggest you drink,” he said, moving the glass closer to her.
Hermione sat up again, and with a glare, she accepted the glass and drank a little at the time. She managed to force down a couple more crackers without having to run to the bathroom again.
“You know I’ll try to kill you again if I find out you have been killing Muggles,” she reminded him when she was done.
“‘Try’ and ‘if’ being the operative words,” Voldemort replied dryly.
“True, but are you willing to risk it? When a woman is pregnant, she has a higher magical level due to the foetus. I may not fail then,” she said calmly.
He came up to her and put two fingers under her chin, tilting her head backwards a bit. “Maybe not. But if you do kill me, Hermione, you’ll be all alone raising two small children without a secure income. For the sake of your children, are you willing to risk that?”
She removed his fingers. “I guess we have reached a status quo then?”
“I guess so. Now, go and brush your teeth before the hearing.”
“You know, it isn’t very good to brush your teeth straight after drinking something sour, like juice,” she muttered, repeating what she had heard her parents say plenty of times before.
“Know-It-All,” Voldemort remarked, rolling his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, they were on their way to the council’s meeting chamber. Hermione felt a different kind of nausea overwhelm her. Despite that it was Voldemort’s fault she had to do this, she had in fact done something bad. Everyone knew you shouldn’t sleep with your professor. She had been perfectly aware of that when she slept with him the first time, before she found out who he really was. She had made a mistake and would now face the consequences.
However, and this was another reason for her nausea, she wouldn’t really be punished for her wrongdoings. Not like anyone else would have been if they had done the same thing. No, she had taken advantage of her relationship with Voldemort to escape the worst consequences. She had always looked down on people who used their position and connections to get favours, and now, she was doing the same thing. It didn’t matter that she had to pay Voldemort for it. A payment that would last for the rest of her life. She was still doing something wrong to fix what she had done wrong.
Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from doing it. She just wanted to stay at Oxford so badly!
As if Voldemort could read her thoughts and wanted to really rub her shame in, he leaned closer to her and whispered: “Relax, dear. I have taken care of it; they won’t give you anything more than a warning. Just answer their questions as we have discussed and look humble.”
Hermione swallowed. Well, the main reason why one shouldn’t sleep with a teacher was because you could get unfair advantages in school. It wasn’t like Hermione would ever use Voldemort for that. She highly doubted he would start to give her tips on what would come up on an exam. Therefore, she didn’t really do anything wrong and should be allowed to stay at school. Besides, Voldemort had said that if they were to kick her out, it wouldn’t have anything to do with whom she had slept with, but the fact that she was a young, female Muggle-born. Perhaps this was for the best after all.
Merlin, she was starting to think like Voldemort.
They reached the council’s chambers, and Voldemort followed her inside as “moral support”. In reality, she was sure he just wanted to remind whoever he had blackmailed what would happen if things didn’t go his way.
Despite that Hermione was very uncomfortable, she answered all their questions as truthfully as she could. Since Voldemort had been through the hearing before, he had told her what to say to make sure their stories were similar. After maybe half-an-hour, they were allowed to leave. Hermione could stay at Oxford University and participate in Voldemort’s lectures. However, all her written assignments would be graded by another Professor. Her practical tests were already overseen by two Professors, and the council saw no problem with Voldemort being one of them. The thing that had been discussed the most was her scholarship and her flat. Even though Cox-Trotter reminded them that the flats weren’t used anyway, the council wasn’t all that happy with it. Voldemort finally said that since they were to be married, they could live together in one of the family flats on campus. After a vote, the council agreed to that. They would move in there after the holidays.
The debate on whether or not she should keep her scholarship took much longer time. In the end, they came to a compromise. She would not have to pay the fee for her education, but she would no longer get the extra money she had got before. Thus, Voldemort got what he had wanted: She was economically dependent on him.
She wasn’t at all surprised about the outcome, though. When they were finally back at her flat and had sent the nanny home for the weekend, she was relieved. Voldemort stayed for lunch and made sure she ate properly before he left for a meeting.
Hermione, who felt much better after managing to keep the food down, decided to take Althea to London. She had yet to buy any Christmas gifts, and it was only a week away. Voldemort had already demanded they should give something together to her parents and Althea, but he had left the actual buying to her. He only gave her a purse with money. Hermione also wanted to give something to Harry, Ginny and Ron, like she always had done. Since they were probably going to the Burrow for Boxing Day, she also wanted to buy something for Mrs Weasley.
Althea didn’t mind joining her to Diagon Alley. She ran around the crowd of shoppers and looked in every window. Hermione made sure to always have her in sight and called the almost four years old girl back a couple of times. Snowflakes were modestly falling down from the sky, and for the first time in years, Hermione could actually feel the Christmas spirit. It was fun to shop for gifts.
At Madam Malkin’s, she picked up some beautiful hair ribbons with pearls, which Ginny had talked about wanting to have but couldn’t afford. Hermione had no problem at all spending Voldemort’s money on her friends or Althea. However, she felt very reluctant to spend his money on herself. It just didn’t feel right. She wanted to be able to look after herself economically, even if that meant she wouldn’t be able to buy all the books she wanted until she was finished in school.
It was a good thing Voldemort already had a very big book collection.
Next stop was the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. She planned to buy something for both Ron and Harry there and maybe even something small for Althea. However, somehow, she had completely forgotten that Ron was working there and was taken aback when she saw him. He was standing behind the counter, helping a costumer. She felt a bit uncomfortable, seeing him. She hadn’t been alone with him since the first time she had visited the Burrow. She just didn’t know how to be alone with him anymore.
Right then, Ron saw her as well. He waved at her, smiling broadly. Oh, well, how bad could it be? They had been friends for ages, after all.
She walked over to him, and he gave her an one-armed hug. “Hermione! What are you doing here?”
“I thought I would do some Christmas shopping,” she replied, trying to think about something good to ask him. It wasn’t like she could ask what he was doing there; that was quite obvious. “Er, do you have any idea what Harry wants? Or yourself for that matter?”
Not only was she uncomfortable with him, she hadn’t really wanted to run into anyone today. Even though she was feeling a lot better, physically as well as emotionally, she didn’t want to have to answer a lot of questions about how she was feeling. Or worse, what it had been like. Thankfully, Ron seemed to be in a “selling mood” more than a “friend mood”.
“Oh, I know just the thing for Harry. Hold on.” Ron turned toward the back of the store. “George! Oi! Stand here for a moment, would you?”
After giving George a quick smile, Hermione took Althea’s hand and followed Ron through the store. Ron pointed out what he thought Harry would want and then also told her that he would be glad with whatever she bought him. However, if she were to buy him some candy, he would be thrilled.
“Everyone thinks I’ve grown up and don’t like those things anymore,” he admitted.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she promised. “Do you have anything here for younger children?”
“Sure, right over here. For Althea, right?” Ron brought her to another shelf, which had all sort of colourful toys. “We have both magical and Muggle toys. Some wizards prefer to give their children toys that can’t run away on their own or explode.”
Althea was squealing in delight as she poked the different toys. Hermione noted which toys Althea seemed to like the most and told Ron she would be back for them later with “Marcus”.
“Oh, that’s right. I heard you two got engaged,” Ron said, his smile becoming a bit forced. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Hermione replied, wanting to turn the conversation to something else. “I still have to buy him something as well. Do you think you have anything?”
When she said it, she realised she hadn’t a clue what she should give Voldemort. The most obvious things were books, but she had no idea what he liked, and even if she did, he would probably already have read it. He didn’t seem to care about accessories, neither in the house nor on himself. She wouldn’t even dream about trying to buy him clothes. Since his only hobbies seemed to be fucking and manipulating people, there really wasn’t a lot to go on. Sure, she was certain he would be thrilled with some sex toys, but they were already spending too much time in the bedroom as it was. She did have to study.
“Eh, what does he like?” Ron asked, right as she thought about sex toys.
Hermione could feel a blush creeping up and tried to hide it by starting to ramble. “He is a little like me, I guess, but the difference is that he already seems to have read all the books there are, and I’ve no idea what to give him in that area. Otherwise … well, the sort of things he likes don’t require a lot of equipment.”
“Not Quidditch?” Ron looked like she had just revealed her fiancé was really Lord Voldemort.
“No, I’ve never heard him talk about it, at least.”
“Eh, okay. Do you think he would like something jokingly?”
Hermione could see the murderous look on Voldemort’s face after someone had given him a Canary Cream. “Not really.”
“And I guess he doesn’t need anything from our Defence Against the Dark Art’s line?”
“No, I think he can manage without,” Hermione answered truthfully.
Ron seemed to hesitate a little. “Well, we do have an adult line as well. Er ... it’s right over there.” He pointed towards the other side of the store where a purple veil was hanging.
“Oh, er, yes, maybe, er …” Hermione blushed again and cursed. She was a woman with a child who was about to get married. Why was she blushing like a schoolgirl?
In all fairness, Ron blushed as well.
Hermione took a deep breath. “I may look there later. Ginny also said that your anti-puking pastilles were tested and deemed harmless for pregnant women?”
“Yes, they are perfectly safe. Why do you—” Ron fell silent and looked down to her stomach. “You are pregnant? Again?”
Hermione did not like how accusing Ron sounded. “Yes.”
“That’s why you are getting married?” Ron’s eyes narrowed.
“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. We want to be together.” However, something in her voice must have been off because Ron looked even more suspicious.
“Is he forcing you? You know, we can help you if you need to escape.” If Ron had only sounded concerned, she might not have become angry. But he actually sounded a bit hopeful.
She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t need to escape, Ron. And even if I did, I would be able to do so myself.”
Ron sneered. “Of course. Like you escaped to Australia the last time?”
Hermione fisted her hands. “Well, no one here seemed very eager to help then.”
“You didn’t really give us the chance! You just disappeared!”
Hermione was about to retort, but Althea pulled her hand. “Mum?”
Hermione took a deep breath and counted to ten. She didn’t want to fight with anyone in front of her daughter. “If you excuse me, I have some Christmas shopping to do.” She turned around and left.
Ron didn’t follow. When she glanced back, she saw him helping a young, dark-haired woman. Hermione snatched a box of anti-puking pastilles and then moved towards the other end of the room.
“Mum just has to find something for Dad,” she muttered to her daughter as they stepped into the secluded area at the back of the store. It was not as crowded in there as in the rest of the shop. In fact, the only other person who was there left when he saw her entering. Hermione took another deep breath and tried to ease her anger. Ron was probably still upset because she had found someone. He would always be jealous. Prick.
Looking around quickly, since she didn’t wanted to be found in here by anyone she knew, Hermione decided to go with some massage oil. If she found something better in another store, she could always bring up the massage oil at another time. If she didn’t, she could give him it and promise a full body massage with it. After all, he was rather tense most of the time.
Walking back out again, she paid for her purchases (not to Ron, who suddenly didn’t seem to have eyes for anyone but the dark-haired woman) and left after wishing a Merry Christmas to George.
The rest of the shopping went by smoothly, and they came home just as it started to darken.
“Hello, kitten, good you are home. Dinner is almost ready,” Voldemort said when he saw them and then added something to Althea in Parseltongue.
Althea giggled and hissed something back at him, which made Voldemort smirk. Hermione let them talk with each other and went into the bedroom to put away her purchases. When she came back out, she saw Althea helping Voldemort carry a basket with bread to the kitchen table. Voldemort was carrying something that smelled delicious. Hermione suddenly felt famished.
Hoping she would be able to keep the dinner down, she sat down at the table and started to fill her plate.
“How did the shopping go?” Voldemort asked when they had all taken their fill.
“I bought a new Potions set to give Mum for Christmas,” she told him, “and astronomy equipment for Dad.”
“Potions set?” he asked with a frown; then, he glanced at Althea. “Don’t play with your food, Althea.”
Althea looked like she had been caught red-handed and immediately began to eat properly.
Hermione turned her attention back to Voldemort. “Just because my parents aren’t magical doesn’t mean they can’t make a potion or appreciate the night sky. Of course, Mum can’t do any of the potions that require magic, but she can still brew her own Pepperup Potion and sleeping remedies. She prefers them over their Muggle counterparts. Not so many strange chemicals inside them,” Hermione explained.
“I see,” he said, still frowning. “How much of your magical secrets have you told your parents?”
“I don’t see them as secrets,” she answered, cutting up the curry chicken on her plate. “Just because they can’t do all of it themselves doesn’t mean they are uninterested. Mum has always been happy to help me with my homework, and Dad has read a couple of my schoolbooks. They have always wanted to be a part of my life.”
Voldemort chewed slowly and swallowed before he answered. “You don’t understand the dangers of it?”
She scowled. “What danger? They are my parents! It’s not like they would sell me or the contents of my books to the highest bidder.”
“There are more ways than one for them to betray you, Hermione,” he said casually, reaching for his water glass.
“They would never betray me. Sure, we have our disagreements, but they are my parents.”
“I fail to see how that would be important.”
“Shocker,” she muttered, but when he gave her a questioning look, she added: “Do you mean you would give Althea away to someone if the price were right?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered after a moment’s hesitation.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “You could!”
He sighed. “In theory, yes. But it’s not like anyone could offer that much.”
Hermione gaped. “What is ‘that much’?”
“I’m not even sure about that,” he said after a moment of thought. “Don’t worry, Hermione, she is my blood as well. If you don’t believe me when I say I actually like the girl, then you should at least believe that I don’t want my blood going astray.”
That was reassuring at least, and Hermione let it drop, looking at the girl who was watching them with her dark eyes. Her hand went to her stomach where yet another child lay.
“How many children do you want?” she asked after a while.
“I believe two will be quite enough,” he answered, finishing his dish. “Do you want more to eat?”
“Just a little,” Hermione said and held out her plate.
“Mum?” Althea asked while Hermione was finishing her second portion.
“Yes, dear?” Hermione answered, swallowing the last of her chicken.
“Can you show me the pregnant?”
Hermione blinked. Not only was it one of the longest sentences she had heard her daughter say in English, it also showed that Althea was far more aware of her surroundings than Hermione had thought. She looked at Voldemort.
“Ah, yes, I explained to her what pregnant is,” he said.
“What did you say?”
“The truth. You have a little baby growing inside your stomach,” he answered, rising from his seat and starting to spell the dishes clean.
Hermione snorted. “That was all you said?”
“Pretty much,” he answered vaguely.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him and then turned to her daughter again. “It’s inside here,” she said, pulling up her shirt a bit and patting her stomach.
Althea jumped down from her chair and placed her hand next to Hermione’s. Her whole face wrinkled.
“Can’t I see it?” Althea wanted to know.
“No, not yet, sweetie,” Hermione answered softly and stroked her daughter’s hair. “You see, it takes nine months for the baby to get ready for the outside world. Until then, I keep it safe in here.”
Althea poked her finger inside Hermione’s navel. Hermione squealed since it tickled, and she took her daughter’s hand away. Althea watched her questioningly.
“That tickles,” Hermione replied and poked her daughter’s stomach to illustrate.
Althea giggled and took a step back, her eyes shining with anticipation. Hermione moved from the chair, trying to catch the little girl and tickle her more. With a delighted squeal, Althea ran towards the lounging area, Hermione hunting after her. They landed on the sofa, and Hermione tickled the child mercilessly until Althea was crying of laughter. Hermione let go of her after a while and kissed her forehead. Althea smiled, and as Hermione withdrew to sit up, the girl clapped her arms around her neck, hugging her. Hermione smiled into her daughter’s hair and inhaled the smell of her.
They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, until Althea withdrew with yawn.
“Do you want to go to sleep?” Hermione asked.
The girl nodded in response.
About an hour later, she had got Althea into bed.
“Mummy, is Dad really going to give me away?” Althea asked, sounding very uncertain.
“No, of course not, honey!” Hermione said firmly, stroking her daughter’s hair.
“But he said so,” Althea remarked.
“Well, he won’t. I would never let him. You are my daughter, and family is supposed to stay together, okay?” Hermione said, looking Althea in the eyes to make sure her daughter understood.
Althea smiled and pulled her mother down in a hug. “Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, my love,” Hermione kissed Althea’s forehead and then unlit the lamp with a wave of her wand. She felt awfully smug. Althea had turned to her for reassurance instead of Voldemort.
She closed the door to the bedroom carefully. She felt ridiculously happy, and she suddenly realised how long ago it had been since she had felt like that. Had she ever felt like that? It was always one thing or another getting in the way. If it weren’t a war, then it was an unwanted pregnancy and isolation. When that wasn’t the case, there were evil wizards chasing her.
“You know, that looked rather fun.” Voldemort came up behind her as she stood near the door, thinking. His hands came in under her shirt, and he kissed her neck. “Perhaps I should chase you around for a little while … naked.”
Hermione purred and leaned back against his tall frame. Okay, so maybe she didn’t mind it when this particular wizard chased her. She allowed him to undress her, enjoying the pleasuring touch of his hands. When they were both completely naked, she broke free from his arms.
With a smile on her face, she stepped backwards. “You’ll have to catch me.”
She ran to the kitchen table with him following her. She stopped at the opposite side of it, looking at him. He was pausing at the other end, waiting for her to choose which side she would run to. She smiled, faking left then trying to go right. He saw through her bluff easily, though, and they looked at each other, willing the other to take the first step. She couldn’t stop grinning, and he had a predatory glimmer in his eyes. His cock was already semi-erect.
When he noted that she was busy staring at his cock, he leaped up on the table, almost catching her. She managed to get away in the last second, running to the coffee table instead where the dance was repeated.
“I think we do need a bigger flat,” she remarked huskily.
“Yes, this is hardly a challenge,” he agreed and leaped over the table.
Since the coffee table was much smaller than the kitchen table, he managed to catch her. Before he had time to secure her, however, she had wrenched herself free and ran to the other side of the armchairs.
He chuckled. “I don’t think it will be much of a challenge in a bigger flat either, though. I can smell you from a mile away, kitten.”
She pressed her tights together, smirking back. Of course, she was dripping wet. He was also fully erect now. With a jump across the floor, he managed to grab her arm before she could run to the other side of the armchairs. He held her steady, and no matter how much she wriggled, she couldn’t come loose. Her heart was beating rapidly from adrenaline and arousal. He pulled her towards him and pressed his body against hers.
“Are you done running, Hermione?” he whispered into her ear.
“Merlin, yes,” she whispered, and their mouths met in a searing kiss.
His hand travelled over her back and under her arse. She whimpered as he stuck two fingers inside of her cunt and pressed his thumb against her clit. She scratched against his back, and before she knew it, he had her turned around, hanging over the arm of the armchair. Twisting her head, she managed to get a glimpse of his cock before he pushed it inside her from behind. She let out a cry of pleasure. It felt even better to have him inside her than it felt when he had touched her. It felt like he was touching her very being.
Fast and hard, he drilled into her. Hermione was just holding on and trying not to lose her footing. It didn’t take long until they both climaxed forcefully. She hung there for a while, panting as he stood above her with his hands on her back. After a while, he pulled her up and kissed her neck again. Hermione purred once more, stroking his face softly before giving in to her weak legs and falling down in the armchair. Voldemort stood, looking down at her with an unreadable face. After a moment, he gave her his hand and dragged them both to the sofa where they lay down, his bigger body covering hers.
It was probably the first time anyone felt happiness in the arms of Lord Voldemort.
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