Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Prisoner	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 63324 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 13
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
- 24
- 25
- 26
A/N: Unbeta'd yet.
Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed.
The Prisoner
Chapter 25: Professor Williams
It was so dark she wasn't even sure if she'd woken or been a victim to some kind of limbo between unconsciousness and awareness. Yet, she had to be awake. She could feel the familiar support of her mattress underneath her aching body and the smoothness of sheets on top. Hermione blinked, trying to regain some focus in this drowsy state she found herself in. Carefully, she moved her arms to push herself up. The sheet slid down her naked body. A sharp pain stabbed into her chest, making her gasp, fall back down and press her hands where she expected the wound to be. Her skin felt unblemished to the touch, yet the pain inside almost made it seem like the letter opener was still in there. She focused her magic, dulling the pain through touch.
'You're awake.'
His soft voice sounded closeby and yet far away. A rustle of fabric and then footsteps creaked on the wood floor towards her. She looked into the direction of the sounds and pressed her eyelids together. Her bedroom wasn't that dark. Normally she could make out little things, the shape of the painting on the wall, her dresser, the chairs. Now she couldn't even see him approaching even though moments later she felt the dip in the mattress beside her.
'Why is it so dark in here? What time is it?'
'It's close to three a.m.'
He rested his hands on hers that were clutching to her chest.
'Rose?'
'Asleep in her bedroom. She wanted to stay here with you, but I told her you needed to rest and to come back in the morning. I promised her to look after you. How bad is it?'
'Rather horrific underneath here,' Hermione said, moving her hands against his a little bit. 'General soreness all over for the rest. Can you turn on the lights? I want to take a look.'
His fingers grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away from her chest and placing them next to her sides. It took all her restraint to not immediately fly her hands back there with the pain that came back seemingly worse upon her magic not dulling it. His hand came to rest on her chest. His magic whirled inside, curled around her heart and stretched out to encompass her entire chest.
'Focus on me,' he ordered. 'Not the pain.'
Focus? Hermione blinked. He hadn't turned on the damn lights yet. She closed her eyes and focused on his magic, feeling hers join his immediately. It didn't just dull the pain. It healed.
'How is that?' he asked, removing his hand after a while.
'Much better,' she replied, somewhat relieved. The soreness she could handle. She lifted her right arm to cast an illumination charm, but he caught her wrist and placed it back to her side.
'Tom?'
'I need you to not freak out,' he said, his fingertips pulling the eyelids on her left eye apart and repeating the same thing with her right.
'Now you're scaring me.'
'Looks like a temporary side effect from direct contact with the vapour.'
'Tom?'
'I put the lights on the second I realised you'd woken.'
A cold chill ran down her spine. 'So, I'm—I'm … blind?'
'Temporarily,' he said, softly squeezing her shoulder. 'Shouldn't last more than an hour.'
'You're certain of this?'
A moment of silence.
'Maybe two.'
It had been a really long time since she'd last heard him talk and had to decipher the nuances in his speech patterns, but she remembered this faux sincerity and the taunting amusement lying underneath. Aggravated, she raised her arms and started slapping in his general direction, no idea what she was hitting but not caring as long as she struck him. His soft sniggering to her assault just pissed her off even more.
'Stop fucking with me. This isn't funny.'
'It is a little bit,' he replied, catching her arms and holding them still. 'You really are at my mercy now.'
'Because I wasn't beforehand.'
He pushed her arms above her head as he slipped into bed on top of her. His long fingers locked tightly around her wrists while his body weight pinned her down. His breath ghosted over her lips.
'I wasn't sure you noticed.'
'I noticed. Perhaps I just didn't care.'
'Perhaps,' he mused.
'You have too many clothes on,' Hermione said, tilting her hips and rubbing against him.
'Aren't you incredibly sore right now?'
'Do you care?' she mocked.
His hair tickled her face when he leaned into her ear and breathed, 'Would you like it to hurt more, Hermione?'
It was a dark, titillating promise and a threat at the same time. Hermione let out a staggered breath, making him chuckle and grip her earlobe with his teeth, pulling on it threateningly before letting go and attacking that ticklish spot with his lips and tongue right underneath. His fingers slid down her arms, leaving a sensation behind unlike ever before.
'You put your ring back on.'
'Obviously.'
'I thought I felt it fuse with mine?'
His lips curved against her throat. 'Good catch, especially considering the dying state you were in.'
'I should be dead, shouldn't I?'
His fingers slid down her sides where his body wasn't pressed on top of hers. She twisted underneath him with what little room he allowed.
'Normally that would've been the end result of your sacrifice for your body, yes. Did you come to that realisation before or after you plunged the letter opener into your heart?'
'After,' she whispered, slightly embarrassed at not having realised beforehand. She wasn't sure she would've dared do it if she had.
His lips pulled, kissed and sucked on the other side of her throat now.
'It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's a logical error, especially with your experience with our bond and terms, and you've got a mind that values logic above all else.'
'I should've recalled the fundamentally patriarchal aspects,' Hermione countered.
'Yes, well, you're a modern witch and have been in control for so many years. It's natural to assume it wouldn't require all of you to revive me. It's logical to assume the seven bond would protect you from harm.'
'I died, didn't I?'
'Oh yes, the feeling of your heart stopping, your last breath exiting your body...' he paused. His breathing staggered. She felt him grow hard against her underneath his clothes. 'I have to say I was tempted, holding your dying body against mine as your energy sucked inside of me, reviving me. The notion of controlling all your magic, owning all that is you, having you be nothing but a helpless spectator in my mind without a voice to share your thoughts with, such ultimate control … it was a thrilling rush.'
Her inner walls clenched at his words. She realised she got wet at him describing an ultimate prison he could've kept her in.
'Why didn't you?' she asked hoarsely.
'Hmmm…. Am I making my pet wet knowing she got close to such a horrendous defeat?'
Hermione arched against him as he allowed room for his fingers to slip between her folds. Her cheeks flushed, feeling how easily he slipped inside, her walls clenching hard around his finger.
'I believe I did, little one,' he said in a more smug voice than she'd ever heard before.
Her hand tried to move to slap his head, but was stuck. She'd not tried to move them before, being determined to be good and hold her position, but that damn smugness of his was just something that required a good slap to the back of his head. She jerked on her arms again, hearing him laugh, but not caring about his mockery, because she couldn't feel any restraints at all, so she should be able to move.
'Oh, I forget you've never been with me while I had my magic available.' He sniggered in such an evil manner it had chills running down her spine. 'Such a pity.'
Well, then she'd just had to draw on her own. She focused and felt her wrists loosening. She just had a second of triumph when his magic crashed in and slammed them back together even tighter, but not just her wrists. He didn't stop there. His magic whirled down. Her heart started to race when she noticed the lower he went the more control he obtained over every inch of her body. She couldn't move an inch anymore. His breath brushed against her lips as he said,
'Bad little pets don't get to decide what moves they get to make, now do they?'
'No.' She barely got that simple word to pass her lips with an almost pain-filled, lust-filled moan when his magic engulfed her clit, not just on the outside but all the way in, too.
Oh no, this was going to be hell and heaven at once, and she wasn't sure her body could take it.
'No?'
His—their!—magic inverted threateningly.
'No, Master,' she quickly corrected, making sure her voice sounded demure and obedient.
'Hmmm…' he pondered, chuckling ever so lightly against her skin. 'I seem to have an observant, sneaky little pet. Now do I reward that or not, I wonder?'
He flexed their magic around her, making her shiver in anticipation but nothing happened. The buildup was almost unbearable. She wished she could move to take some of the edge off. She also wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question or not. It seemed to be in her mind, but he could just be fucking with her and hoping she wouldn't answer and then punish her for that, or hoping she would answer and then punish her for speaking out of turn. Despite her inability to see, Hermione still squeezed her face together, waiting for what was to come.
And he dared call her sneaky!
His lips captured hers, guiding them apart so he'd gain entry. She complied, her eyelids flashing open in surprise.
Unexpected.
Still, she wasn't complaining. His kisses were next level, demanding her full attention and making her toes curl.
Well, figuratively, because she couldn't actually move them, and now she began to realise how utterly stressful that was becoming, to have your brain send signals to your body and there would be sensation but no reaction. It caused the sensation to rise exponentially, making her brain unable to follow and then choose at random whether it was experiencing pain or pleasure in such rapid succession. And it didn't stop at those sensations, that duality she might've been able to handle. No, it went from too cold to too hot, too sweet to too sour, too the nicest smells ever to the nastiest stench, to sounds soft and loud she knew weren't even there. It seemingly put all her senses into a faux overdrive, making it impossible to know what was true and false, making it impossible to determine anything, and it felt like—it felt like—
By Godric, she didn't know what, how, why, where, when. This would drive her insane.
'That's been known to happen,' he said, allowing her a brief breath of air before plundering her mouth again.
His hands slid along her sides, or did they not?
His mouth sucked on both her nipples, but he was kissing her mouth, too. This was impossible. Those things couldn't happen at the same time. She was going mad. Her whole body electrified, then ice seemed to stick to her skin before it burned so, so, so hot. She wasn't sure where she was anymore. She didn't know what was up or down. She needed him.
Please, please, please.
Her mind screamed out when her clit contracted in—in—in ...
Her orgasm blew through her brain with an explosion of blinding light. The noise that reached her ears sounded very unlike herself.
She wasn't coming down from it. She wasn't coming down from it.
Oh, no, it got worse, and worse, and worse. How could there be too much ecstasy?
She wanted to, needed to thrash with every inch of her being. Every cell in her body begged to move but couldn't.
Then his skin touched hers, or did it not? His cock brushed her entrance and pushed in or was it not? Her walls contracted, feeling deliciously full and empty at the same time.
Oh my Lord, please.
'What was that, pet?' he asked with a vicious delight, thrusting into her harder.
Or softer.
She wasn't sure.
She wasn't even sure he was inside of her.
'I love that confused, pained expression on your insolent face, pet, and you do beg so prettily for your Master.'
Was he becoming thicker inside of her, or was that just another one of those illusions? Was he even speaking to her?
'You're beginning to lose it now, aren't you, Hermione?'
Please, my Lord. Please.
Don't, please.
Please, I can't.
Please, please, pleaaaaase!
She'd never been so afraid and aroused at the same time. Her whole life, her whole self, hung in the balance. She was completely and utterly at his mercy. He was everywhere and nowhere. She was everywhere and nowhere. This was total oblivion. Something burning hot or ice cold filled her womb. Her mind exploded when her clit contracted at his command. Suddenly she could move and her whole body reacted violently as if trying to make up for all that time of being restrained. She broke through every peak of the world, screaming and screaming and screaming until she ran out of breath. He swung them around, holding her tightly as she still trembled in his arms. Her limbs shook. Her eyes saw stars exploding she knew weren't there. Her lungs hurtled in air as if her body had been lacking.
Maybe it had? She had no idea.
Tears leaked from her eyes. Yet, she felt happy, satisfied. This wasn't right.
'It's okay, pet.'
His voice was deep and gentle, an almost soothing balm on her soul. His left arm held her tightly—protectively—to him around her waist, while his right hand's fingers stroked through her hair. It was nice if only she could remember.
'It'll come back to you soon.'
She knew that voice, didn't she? She wouldn't just be in some stranger's arms, feeling his cock soften inside of her? That wasn't who she was, right?
She couldn't remember!
Follow my lead, Hermione.
Who was Hermione? She reached out to that voice inside of her.
That's it, good girl. Come to me.
She wanted to come to him.
But she didn't know who he was!
Sure, you do, every cell of you knows and feels it. That's it, Hermione, right here.
Her eyes opened, looking straight into a pair of dark, dilated pupils in deep-brown irises.
'There you are,' Tom said, satisfied.
She gasped and grabbed a hold of his shoulders to steady herself.
She could see again!
Her eyes darted from his black, silky locks which now had some touches of grey in them to that straight nose with those cheekbones you could cut ice with. He hadn't changed much from the last time she saw him. Maybe a tad paler and a more weathered look, but it suited him.
'You arse!' she hissed between gritted teeth, raising her arm to smack him, but finding it caught in his vice like grip instantaneously.
'Now dear, don't pretend you didn't enjoy that,' he said smugly. 'I've not seen you come this hard for me before.'
'You almost made me lose my mind.'
'Almost doesn't count. Lord Voldemort does not allow for almost. It's all or nothing. It's the skill that matters.'
She huffed, 'The skill, the skill—'
'The skill to get you right there at total abandon and watch you rise so high and fall so low, knowing there is nothing left but allowing me to catch you. And you knew, didn't you, despite your delirious state? You knew you had to take my lead, knew the only guidance to follow was mine, and you did beg so prettily, so desperate. I didn't know you had it in you, little one,' he said, his eyes twinkling in delight. 'You know it doesn't work if someone doesn't give all of them completely?'
'Let me guess, their minds become an empty slate, while you still get your cock satisfied.'
'So you do know how it works!'
He caught her other hand before it would've landed on his face, and then pulled both of her arms behind her back on top of him. She could tell he was enjoying her attempts at wrestling out of his hold tremendously by the way his cock twitched inside of her.
'I do so love that angry spark in your eyes when you look at me like that, wife. Makes me want to squash it fully.'
He flung them around, causing her to land on her arms with nowhere to go and him smiling wickedly at her on top. He was already hardening inside of her.
'Do you enjoy feeling my cock rise from your disobedience, wife?'
Well, she couldn't say she didn't like that little rush of power it gave her and clenched her cunt tightly around him. She added a daring wink along with her mischievous smile.
'If you think I had you begging before, think again,' he said, capturing her lips and starting another assault that soon had her wishing she'd learned to shut up and be an obedient, good wife.
Fortunately, she doubted that was the type of witch he would be interested in, despite his viciously hissed words to the contrary.
Aghast, Hermione gaped at Kingsley.
'Become Minister, me? I don't have time for that. I've got three long term magical experiments running, which I can't leave to another, especially not my potions one. Too fragile. I have several operatives abroad who are in need of my personal support. Plus I have no proper successor. The last one who might've been able to take over the Department of Mysteries left to go work for that damn Janaish conglomerate.'
Okay, she'd made sure they got that offer from Tom with an exceptionally hefty salary bump, but no need to inform Kingsley of that.
Searching for possible new Unspeakables whenever she had a vacancy would've been difficult under normal circumstances. But given she needed to remain Head of this Department and its infinite opportunities to hold clandestine operations and research any and all types of magical enhancement, past, present and future, it was a steep mountain to climb. She had found a method to weed out those talented, young people with an inquiring, analytical and adventures mindset who'd be perfect to become an Unspeakable without them also having an instinct and desire to lead from the ones who would, but sometimes someone would slip through the cracks and suddenly gain ambitions.
'Don't bite my head off,' Kingsley said. 'You've got your life in order. You're extremely popular with the general public, and your new boyfriend is absolutely charming.'
Absolutely charming, yeah, nobody ever could've accused Tom Riddle of not having that in abundance. Sickeningly so.
It was his other qualities she was more concerned about.
'Perfect mix for an election. I thought you'd be interested.'
Interested in being the Minister for Magic?
Yeah, maybe she would've been if she didn't have to watch a power hungry, constantly scheming Heir of Slytherin like a hawk. Seriously, sometimes she wondered what her bigger day job was. Right now she'd only figured out one angle he was diving into, which didn't include his ridiculous, never ending quest for immortality, and it had her nervously wondering what the others were she'd not caught up on yet. She had dispatched three Unspeakables at the company he was currently running, but it had been too soon for them to report back to her. He'd already caught up on one, given they suddenly got a large promotion, but that had been her decoy operative left for him to find. She really needed to know what he was up to. She'd never be able to manage that as Minister. She could just imagine how thrilled he'd be if she got that job.
'No offense, Kingsley, but I didn't get rid of all that paperwork in the Department of Mysteries to become Minister and drown in it. I would never get anything done.'
'You could cut it like you have over there.'
'Like you haven't tried and watched it go down from ten forms to eight, only to be enhanced to twelve because of new regulations or guidelines.'
Kingsley groaned at the memory.
'There will be an election this year, and I'm not running again. Have you heard that Dorea Bullstrode will run? Her family has deep pockets and can support an active campaign.'
Yeah, Hermione had heard. She already had Boot run indeep background checks so she could demolish that witch's chances at precisely the right opportunity.
'Very old school. She'd be a disaster for all the progress we've made.'
'Why not ask Harry? He's got his life in order. He's popular and has a charming—' non-homicidal maniac '—wife.'
And nothing better to do.
'The Department of Magical Law Enforcement can easily be taken over,' she added for good measure.
'I didn't think he'd be interested. He's not too keen on the limelight and likes being an Auror. As Head of the Aurors he can still go and do fieldwork when he wants to, but that would be impossible as Minister.'
'You gotta ask him the right way,' Hermione said. 'Appeal to his sense of duty and responsibility. Remind him what the Wizarding World means to him and how badly it can turn out with the wrong kind of Minister, like Fudge. Point out Bullstrode's Dark Arts' beliefs and how badly that could impact his precious Aurors.'
Kingsley gave her look.
'What?' she said, holding her hands up. 'I know Harry.'
Kingsley shook his head. 'So I really can't persuade you to do this after everything I did for you?'
Hermione smirked and rose from her chair. 'Sorry, I'm not Harry. Guilttrips won't work on me. Nice try though, pout and all.'
'Fine, get out of my office, Sneakable.'
As she exited, laughing, Kingsley's silvery lynx swirled past her head.
'Sorry, Harry,' Hermione whispered. 'But I really can't have more complications in my life right now.'
Harry won by a landslide, especially after the publication of Dorea's past sins of bribery and blackmail went viral one week before the election.
They were holding a giant party at the Ministry's large conference room this evening, normally used for entertaining international guests or hosting large meetings which required making a lasting impression upon the visiting party. Tonight it was used for the 'Welcome Harry' and 'Goodbye Kingsley' feast. She was late, having had a meeting with her only Unspeakable still going undiscovered in Tom's company. One of his plans would soon hit an unfortunate snag.
So sad.
The other wasn't that dastardly, but she'd see how he'd react first to being scuppered again. It would tell her a bit more about his sudden desire to leave the daily runnings of Janaish to Padma Patil and apply for the vacant Defence Against The Dark Arts position. Her eyes searched the grand chamber. The Ministry Elves had done a fantastic job at the decoration. There were large flower pieces standing on the waist-high round tables. The thick columns supporting the ceiling were covered fully in luscious green leaves with a sprinkling of tiny blue flowers. The ceiling sparked with soundless fireworks, and the music was just right to be able to dance and still maintain a normal conversation without having to shout or use muffling charms. All around, trays floated in midair with glasses of various drinks, while another set carried back the emptied glasses. It was buzzing with conversations. People were excited wherever her eyes went, happy. When she found Tom among the crowd engaged in a clearly vigorous debate with Headmistress McGonagall, she smiled.
Of course, I should've known. Always lay the groundwork beforehand.
He looked positively to die for in his elegant dress robes. It was odd knowing she was the only one seeing him for what he truly looked like. She couldn't even tell what the others saw. She'd heard whispers of others behind her back about him, but they didn't match up, like everyone saw someone differently. Weirdly enough that didn't cause people to question what they saw, it was like they forgot their friend had said he was blonde while they had presumed him a redhead.
She'd once asked Tom about it on one of her late night visits to his office, and he'd merely smirked and had cryptically said, 'It's all in their desires, and the mind's need and agility to keep it a reality.'
'That doesn't make any sense. What if they realise it's just an illusion?'
'Maybe the illusion is the reality? Maybe trying to break said reality will break the mind? Magical minds are remarkably fragile, you know,' he'd breathed into her ear. 'Very open to—' He'd kissed the side of her neck. '—outside influences.'
She'd shivered, making him smile against her skin.
'So very easy to break and destroy, to make it all mine forever.'
'Speaking of all yours, how do I know I'm seeing reality and not also an illusion?' she'd remarked, making him break out his most evilest of smiles.
'I suppose you don't,' he said with a wink.
It had become a remarkably late night.
She sighed. If he heard of his plans falling to pieces before the night was over, she was bound to be in for a ride again.
Hermione made a move to step into the room when her heart stopped upon seeing Katie McGregor, leaning against one of the grand chamber's pillars with her shoulder covered in ivy, a glass of champagne in her hand that clearly had gone untouched for some time. McGregor was looking in one direction only. Hermione was surprised Tom hadn't noticed it yet.
Foolproof Dark Enchantment, right.
She would've some 'I told you so's' to share with him later.
Moving towards Katie, Hermione grabbed a drink from one of the trays floating around the room and halted right next to her, taking a sip in silence. She knew Katie had seen her coming but waited for her to open the conversation.
'How does nobody notice?' Katie asked after what seemed like forever. 'He's not even wearing a simple Glamour.'
'It's an enchantment. People see what they want to see.'
'Ah,' Katie said, taking a sip.
'The question you should be asking is why are you able to see him as he is?'
'Probably because I knew in advance who he was,' Katie interjected, turning to Hermione. 'I heard about your new partner from a remarkably unreliable source, so I had to come see for myself. How long has he been back in your life now?'
'I don't think he ever left it, Katie, but physically, a little bit more than a year now.'
'You okay?'
Hermione smiled, 'Never better actually.'
'Is he okay?'
'Well, up to his usual tricks and schemes obviously,' Hermione said, gesturing at the laughing McGonagall. 'This one seems new, not sure what to make of that. I just scuppered his other plan, though he doesn't know that yet. Won't be long though, he's got much more reliable and effective support this time around.'
'I'd say,' Katie said, eyeing her sharply.
'He's not murdering people, left, right and centre, Katie.'
'That you know of.'
'That I know of,' Hermione admitted.
'You know he spotted me the moment I entered. Clearly waited for you to solve this problem.' She gestured at herself.
'Too bad for him. How's work?'
'Oh just dandy. Got a new project in Argentina. I'm really looking forward to that.'
'Liking the considerable physical distance to the UK?' Hermione joked.
Katie's mouth curved up briefly. 'Can't say I mind. Unfortunately, Janaish has branches there.'
They stood there in a comfortable silence for a while, each sipping their drink, when Harry suddenly joined McGonagall and Tom. She recalled how quickly all her friends had adapted to him, how strange it had felt when they became not just her friends but also his. He quickly had them all wrapped around his finger. She'd been surprised it went that easily. She'd been sure Ginny or Harry would catch on.
Hell, he'd even used the same first name as before. When she'd seen his new birth certificate, she'd been so angry.
However, he'd merely said, 'You're bound to slip up one day. Tom is common enough.'
'But they know your mannerisms, the Moirae bond, the combination of it all ...' she'd trailed off, concerned.
'Yes, but they won't see it unless we wish for it or we err.'
'You couldn't possibly resist the urge to monologue.'
He'd snorted. 'It'll be fine. If we used a name like say Alex, and you'd call me Tom, their minds would immediately break through the spell and it would be all over. And then, you'd have to act against your friends.'
'I suppose,' she'd grudgingly agreed.
What had made it worse was that she happened to slip up around Ginny that very same week, proving his point. That smug expression on his face had made her want to punch his nose.
There had been instances, brief moments when either Harry or Ginny suddenly saw, but between their combined magic, that moment slipped through their fingers like it had never existed. Hermione was surprised at how smooth it all went.
She shook out of her trip down memory lane when Katie spoke up.
'Okay, how does that not bother you?' Katie asked, nodding to Tom and Harry talking amaically.
'It's a nice change?'
Katie snorted her drink up her nose and laughed. She shook her head at Hermione. 'You're unbelievable.'
'I try.'
Katie placed her glass on the tray that floated by. 'Okay, I've seen the show,' she said, pulling a card out of her pocket and handing it to Hermione. 'In case you ever need any help with,' she shrugged, 'you know who, just tap your wand on it.'
Hermione looked at her business card before pocketing it. 'Thanks, Katie.'
'Oh my Godric, your dress has pockets!'
'I know,' Hermione said, sticking her hands in and swirling the long skirt around in excitement. 'Someone with an actually functioning brain created this.'
'Talking about me, darling?' Tom said smoothly, pulling her in for a kiss.
'Unless you've suddenly become a designer of wizarding fashion, no dear, not everything in the world is about you,' Hermione said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
He groaned. 'Sweet Salazar, what have you done now?'
Her smile broadened. 'Isn't that for you to find out?'
'Hmm…' he mumbled. His arm around her waist guided her to his side. 'Ms McGregor, such a pleasure—'
'Save the bull, Williams,' Katie snarled.
'Why, I thought you'd be in a better mood after your recent success in China and subsequent transfer to Argentina, Katie McGregor.'
Hermione frowned, her eyes flashing between them. What had she missed?
'Ah, yes, my success in China,' Katie said with a vicious smile. 'Enjoyed that, did you?'
'It's of no inconvenience to me.'
Fuck. She'd really missed something. Next time, four Unspeakables. Damn, she was going to run out of unfamiliar faces in no time at this rate.
'That's why you pulled all your assets, I assume.'
'For now,' Tom said airily. 'I have time to play the long game, Ms McGregor. It's like they say, When in Rome …''
'You can do as Romans do all you like. They may have kicked me out of their country, but they sure as hell won't let you near it now either,' Katie said sharply.
Hermione felt Tom's fingers dig into her side.
'Okay, someone better tell me what this is about,' Hermione said coolly.
'All yours,' Katie quickly checked the area around them before snarling, 'Voldemort.' She held out her hand to Hermione and kissed her on both cheeks, before adding, 'Contact me if you need to, Hermione. You know how to find me.'
'Everyone does,' Tom said lightly, earning him an elbow in the side from Hermione.
'Katie!' Hermione called out at the retreating figure. When she'd turned around and faced her, Hermione added, 'Thank you.'
Katie winked at her. 'My pleasure.'
'You're thanking her?' Tom hissed when Katie had left. 'She screwed up my entire operation right when I was this close to obtaining the object.'
Hermione whirled around, grabbed his elbow and pulled him to the side. A ward flew around them.
'Exactly why I'm thanking her.'
'You have no idea what this is about, wife.'
'Then you better start doing your most favourite of all hobbies, talk,' she said, placing her hands on her side.
'I doubt that's even in my top ten, dear.'
'Don't try to change the subject, dear.'
'Whyever not,' he said, pushing her up against the pillar roughly. 'I love it when you get angry, Hermione Riddle, it makes you so tight.'
Her skirts flew up, and he was inside of her in a blink of an eye, not caring about all the people in the room, not caring that her friends were near, not caring that her ward was just a regular one.
'And not knowing something,' he smirked, thrusting into her with a punishing pace, 'being in the dark, that aggravates you most, doesn't it, my sweet oblivious Hermione?'
He gyrated his hips, caressing her right at that sweet spot with his magic and making a moan fall from her mouth while her eyes glared at him.
'Which historical object did you think about ruining with dark magic this time?' she hissed, her arms clutching around his shoulders.
'How do you know it's ancient?' he asked, tilting her hips so he'd have better access.
'Call it a hunch.'
'Maybe it's one of those latest phones your parents love carrying around with them? There was a new one coming out soon, if I recall correctly. I was thinking about getting them two.'
'Oh stop your blabbering. What object?'
'I don't think I feel like rewarding such insolence with an answer. Perhaps my little pet will have to figure it out all by herself?'
'Perhaps you better start talking or I'll beg McGonagall not to hire you.' She changed her tone of voice to a high, almost whimpering one. 'After all I've been through, I really don't want to lose my boyfriend, Professor. We're so happy now, and Voldemort cursed this position and I—I—'
He stilled inside of her, turning her expression smug. She added a saucy wink for good measure.
'I was going to make you come, but now I think I'll just use this tight cunt of yours for my pleasure only, wife.'
'Spoilsport.'
'Service your Master, witch.'
Despite not getting a release and him forcing her to walk around the party with his cum sticking to her inner thighs—which she was sure some of the guests with heightened senses of smell noticed from the looks she got—she still ended up satisfied when he'd breathed, 'geometric compass' in her ear. There was only one he could mean, and she was really, really glad Katie had been able to foil that from reaching his hands.
There was an odd familiarity walking through Hogwarts' corridors again. Hermione looked sideways at Harry who had that same at ease expression.
'You know I was surprised you never went and became a teacher,' she admitted to him. 'You were mighty good at it.'
Harry shrugged. 'I considered it briefly, but I treasure the memories I made here. Didn't want to get them tainted by those annoying little brats like we were.'
Hermione snorted. 'Afraid you'd turn into Snape?'
'Worse. Lockhart.'
'Oh blimey, hell no.'
'I could be talking all about my grand adventures and how amazing I once was, the Chosen One, until my best friend spoiled it. Maybe collect a group of special students for totally indiscrete, improper evening gatherings.'
'Would you like some crystalized pineapple to go with that?' Hermione said, snorting.
'Don't mind if I do, and some lemon drops, naturally.'
'Well, of course. How else would the Minister for Magic manage his day-to-day operations?'
'Apparently without a Head of the Department of Mysteries for the next couple of weeks, which I must say, Hermione, is mighty irresponsible of you.'
'You'll live.'
'I'm surprised you can do without your work. I remember how you stuck me with the Minister position after Kingsley resigned because you wouldn't leave your precious department or should I say damn illegal experiments.'
'Hah, in case you've forgotten your approval stamp is on every single one of those experiments.'
'I stamped off empty scrolls, secretly Unspeakable.'
'Need to know only,' Hermione said in a sing-song voice.
'I'll be bugging you every day just for that comment.'
'I'm getting married, and am going on a honeymoon tomorrow right after Rose has finished her last day and gets her diploma. Don't you dare send me any owls.'
'I can't believe you're marrying a Hogwarts Professor who's not me,' Neville called out in jest from the corner on the right.
Hermione gave him a hug, glad the bond had stopped reacting to their touch. It was nice to know Neville had really moved on, though she wasn't sure if he was seeing anyone in particular.
'Well, I couldn't possibly marry someone who got themselves strung up by pixies,' she teased, making Neville laugh.
'Damn, I knew there was something holding you back from my magnetic personality, speaking of which,' he added, nodding farther down the corridor.
Tom stood there, leaning against the wall with one shoulder while a gaggle of teenagers hung on his every word. It reminded Hermione how fiercely Dumbledore had prevented him from taking a teaching position.
Perhaps he'd been right?
Perhaps she should've stopped this; whatever this was?
Despite his claim of being bored with ruling before, she was positive he was up to something—it was in his nature to scheme and plot—she just had to figure out what and turn it into a less dastardly direction. His reactions whenever she was in his way had her glowing with anticipated excitement. Their battle of wits never bored her once. He was her perfect mate, truly challenging her every day, and she clearly had overlooked something again.
What are you up to, Voldemort?
His dark eyes looked over the head of the brown-haired Ravenclaw replying to him. His mouth broke out in a smile upon seeing her, and his gaze intensified. He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, making the child look up expectantly, and then he said something. What it was she couldn't say, but the boy was practically beaming before leaving with his friends in the other direction, gesturing excitedly, while the others nodded.
Despite being unnerved at what she'd just witnessed, Hermione couldn't hold in the smile when she saw him gliding towards them in his signature dark-green robes.
'Professor Williams! Professor Williams!' A little witch shouted, wringing past the group and running towards him, waving with a scroll in her hand.
He winked at Hermione before turning around to the teenager.
'You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you smiling and energetic again,' Harry said. 'You were becoming a regular tired out sour puss before you met Tom.'
'Hey!' Hermione objected, placing her hands on her sides, while Neville muffled his laughter.
Harry held up his hands. 'If you don't believe me, ask Ginny.'
'Ginny is not a neutral party, Harry,' Hermione reminded him.
'It's good you found a way to break that damn bond. I know—I know,' he quickly said when she'd half opened her mouth to correct him, 'not break, fool the bond.'
'You're the Minister. It's important you use the correct terminology. I wouldn't want others stuck in a Moirae bond to get their hopes up when I still have nothing.'
'Fooling it is not nothing, Hermione,' Neville said quietly.
'I'm still waiting on your in-depth report on that, having used ministerial resources and all for accomplishing it,' Harry teased.
'Well, a report will have to wait until I find a way to replicate the results for general use. We are getting close, but I fear our success might be linked to Voldemort having been in Azkaban during its formation. It's basically as I said before, the bond thinks he's Voldemort and therefore doesn't react to his presence.'
'Won't marrying him be a gigantic risk then?' Neville asked, frowning.
Hermione nodded. 'Yeah, he has to take my name so it won't react.'
'Your name?' Harry asked. 'You never told me that.'
Neville's eyes darted between Harry and Hermione, trying to follow the non-verbal conversation. She could tell where Harry's mind was going from his stunned and concerned expression. He glanced sideways to Tom who was pointing out things in the scroll to the girl.
'His first name is Tom,' Harry said under his breath.
'I know,' Hermione said, watching closely how this unfolded. This was one of those risky moments where the enchantment slid so close to reality that the parties could catch on, but she didn't want their testrun to be at the ceremony.
'Oh hell,' Neville said, realising. 'Poor bloke.'
'He's okay with that?' Harry asked, his eyes wide like he couldn't believe it.
'He's not too thrilled about having to be called Riddle, no,' Hermione replied, finding it amusing how that wasn't even a lie. 'But it's either that or not get married, and he's the one who insisted on that, so…'
'So he's going to legally become Tom Riddle,' Neville finished. 'That bloke must love you very, very much.'
'Actually it's worse,' Hermione said. 'We already filed for an additional middle name at the Ministry months ago and it came through last week, so—'
'Geez…' Neville said. 'You should give him something really nice, Hermione.'
'You're kidding me,' Harry said. 'I don't recall that landing on my desk.'
'Since when do mere name changes ever go beyond the Department of Magical Family Affairs and Genealogy?'
Harry just sent her a look. 'You know I'm going to get questions on that from reporters. The least you could've done was warn me before fleeing the damn country.'
'I believe I just did, and it's called a honeymoon, not fleeing, Minister,' Hermione said, smirking.
'Tomayto, tomahto.'
'Why is adding the middle name such a big deal?' Neville asked Harry. 'She already said she had to fool the bond into thinking he's Voldemort.'
'Because it means he'll legally become indistinguishable from Lord Voldemort, too, once their wedding goes into effect. It won't just fool the bond, it will override the Ministry's documentation. All our documents regarding Tom Williams will somehow cease to exist and merge with Riddle's, and that new reporter at the Prophet is...' Harry groaned, rubbing his forehead.
'Ugh yeah, I've seen him. Gran hit him repeatedly on the head with her umbrella a month ago when he tried to take a picture of my parents renewing their vows.'
'I would've liked to have seen that,' Hermione said, laughing at the image in her mind.
'Would've liked to have seen what, darling?' Tom asked, pulling her into his arms and giving her a kiss.
'Augusta Longbottom hit Zayne Huffaker with an umbrella.'
'She should've stuck out his eye,' Tom suggested.
'Please don't say stuff like that around the general public for a while,' Harry groaned.
'Ah, you told them,' Tom said, a devious glint rising in his eyes.
'This,' Harry said, gesturing to Tom. 'Not helpful. Suddenly I'm so glad you're both going away for a month, please don't come back sooner on my account.'
Hermione and Tom laughed.
'I think you're overthinking this,' Neville said calmly. 'It's been a long time ago, and already there is an entire generation to whom Voldemort is merely a tale of the past.'
'My thoughts exactly,' Tom said smoothly.
Hermione was pretty sure there was an underlying message meant solely for her, but she wasn't going to bite now with the risk of having to Obliviate both Harry and Neville. Not after the enchantment had stood up to the test so marvellously. Still after seeing how easily Katie had avoided it, Hermione was somehow rather happy there weren't a lot of people in the world alive today with actual reliable memories of the real Tom Riddle. The guards at Azkaban had been mostly avoiding him from what she remembered in her year of visiting him in jail, and the House Elf who'd cleaned his cell and brought him his meals and other personal items worked for Janaish now.
Come to think of it, there weren't even a lot of people left in the world having had face-to-face interactions with his older self, too. The only one she could come up with an actual in-depth memory was Horace Slughorn, but he'd gone back in retirement before Tom had broken out of Azkaban. She actually had no idea where her old professor was hanging out these days. She scratched the back of her head. Perhaps she should look into his whereabouts? She hated loose ends.
'Nervous for tomorrow, darling?' Tom asked, pulling her tighter into his embrace and kissing her deeply.
She leaned back and smiled, 'Maybe.'
'So rude. I'm still waiting for my welcome. I am the important Minister for Magic after all,' Harry joked.
Tom let go of Hermione and held out his arms, laughing when Harry ducked behind Neville. 'Afraid of my kissing abilities, Harry? Hermione can vow they're—Oww.'
She'd elbowed him in the side. 'Stop this nonsense, you'll embarrass Rose.'
'Embarrass Rose?' he snorted. 'After I found her behind the Quidditch stands with James's tongue all the way down her throat, her skirt hoisted up to her waist and his trousers on his knees—'
'What!?' Hermione and Harry interrupted simultaneously though with completely different intonations. Hermione seemed worried about what he'd done to James, and Harry seemed rather pissed at James.
'—and didn't hex them both into oblivion, I believe I get special last school day privileges of being the embarrassing parent,' he said, grabbing Hermione's waist, dipping her back and kissing her throat with an exaggerated amount of tongue.
Hermione knew Rose was near before she heard her shout.
'Da-ad!'
Rose's annoyance only made Tom's hand that wasn't holding her up wander all over Hermione's tits and arse. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry who held in his laughter.
'Mum, really?' Rose said, coming to a halt next to them.
'Hi sweetie,' Hermione said, while Tom continued his assault on her throat.
Albus and Scorpius followed right behind Rose. Hermione was pleased to see they finally dared holding hands in public.
'Albus, Scorpius. How are you?'
'Good day, Ma'am, we're doing fine,' Scorpius said ever so politely.
'Great is what he means to say, Aunt Hermione,' Albus said, his cheeks flushed, squeezing Scorpius's hand.
'How nice,' Tom muttered. 'Young love behind the Quidditch—'
'DAD!' Rose said, her eyes sparkling with fury.
Tom finally pulled Hermione back up and smirked at Rose. 'Something wrong, dear?'
'Nothing,' she said, narrowing her blue eyes at him before she searched around.
'James is waiting at Hogsmeade,' Hermione said, seeing her daughter's shoulders drop in disappointment. 'You know Headmistress McGonagall would give us hell to pay if we dared bring him inside again.'
Harry laughed. 'I bet she'd quit on the spot.'
'The boy is creative,' Tom said, shrugging.
Hermione's eyebrows raised. That was a high compliment coming from him. After what she'd just heard he'd witnessed, not something she expected. She wondered how Rose and James had pulled that off.
'Creative is not the word most people would use,' Harry said, shaking his head.
'I'm not most people.'
Despite their friendship, whenever Harry and Tom were together, there was always that hint of danger in the back of her mind. It was usually brought on by certain suggestive things Tom would say while keeping his glinting, mischievous eyes on her. She swore he enjoyed it when she was on edge.
'There you all are!' Ginny called out. 'I've been searching everywhere. I need to steal Hermione for a bit. You lot go ahead. We'll be right there.' She grabbed her arm and pulled her with until they reached an empty corridor. A flash of her wand ensured it would stay empty. 'Okay, so you're getting married tomorrow.'
'I'm not doing a hen party again,' Hermione interrupted.
'I know. You're such a spoilsport,' Ginny mumbled, pouting. 'It's just I was wondering …'
'What?'
'I know you've found a way to stop the bond from reacting, but won't a marriage be … well, you know, dangerous for you both?'
'Oh.'
Of course Ginny would come to the same conclusion as Neville, being a pureblood. Well, testrun two, she supposed.
'Like from everything I know about ancient marriage rituals, and I did my research upon you getting stuck in one, it's that they last for eternity, and you picked seven as you always say, which is one of the tightest bonds, not just physical but also magical.'
'You know I've found a way to fool the bond into thinking he's Voldemort.'
'Fooling the bond in allowing you two to be together is one thing, suddenly getting married is another.'
'We've worked a way around that as well.'
'How?'
'He'll be taking my name and wearing Voldemort's ring.'
'HERMIONE!'
'Ginny,' she mimicked, yet calmly.
'You let another claim you like that?'
'It's the only way around it.'
'Aren't you worried it will kill him? Like I know he's clever and powerful and all, like you wouldn't be in love with him if he weren't, but I can't believe you'd take a risk like that.'
'Yeah,' Hermione said, shuffling on her feet. 'Look, don't tell my parents, or anyone else, but we've already tried it out. When he suggested it, I had to make sure it was done under better conditions than the chapel at Hogsmeade.'
Ginny's eyes turned as big as saucers. 'Weren't you both nervous when he slipped it on?'
'We did it at the Department of Mysteries, so I could've failsafes standing by in case it went wrong. He was in no danger, Ginny. I'd never allow that.'
'So, wait, but … But that means you're already married!'
'Technically yes, technically the bond—and therefore all official documents—will consider us as having been married for years. That doesn't mean I have to deprive him of a wedding, especially since he's basically willing to give up his whole identity for me. We'll still hold a modern celebration because we can and we want to. Also for Rose, and family, and so we don't get even more shit from the Daily Prophet.'
'Yeah, you don't like to be the centre of attention,' Ginny said, smirking. 'Also you should totally catch Huffaker and lock him in a jar as well.'
'He probably won't be an unregistered Animagus.'
'So?' Ginny said, shrugging. 'I'll lure him to a dodgy alley, and I'm sure you can make him fit in any jar.' She punched her fist into the palm of her hand.
Hermione laughed. 'You're vicious.'
'Only when people attack those I love.'
'We should go back before we miss them handing out the diplomas to the kids.'
'Yeah, wait, what are you doing about the rings then, tomorrow? I assume his wouldn't come off after he'd slipped it on?'
'We have another set. It'll connect with the other one.'
'Okay, then, all covered,' Ginny said, hooking her arm and walking to the Great Hall with her. 'I look forward to being your bridesmaid. Gotta love you for that green dress, at least it doesn't clash horribly with my hair.'
Hermione laughed. 'I didn't pick it.'
'Well, gotta thank Tom then. He's got excellent taste.'
'He seems to think so,' Hermione mocked.
Ginny snorted. 'Did you have any say in this wedding?'
'Nope, he even picked out my dress.'
'Hermione!'
'No idea what it looks like,' Hermione said, letting out an exaggerated relieved sigh. 'So nice, none of that stupid bridal stress. I'd recommend it to anyone.'
'Of course you would. Just get a man who wants to organise it all. Millions of those around for sure.'
'Probably more than society has people believe,' Hermione countered, smiling.
'Maybe,' Ginny somewhat admitted. 'Harry did get rather obsessive about our wedding cake.'
'Didn't your mother bake your cake?'
'Yeah, because Harry wanted that. I wanted one from Marvellously Charmed Bakeries, you know with those sparkling butterflies, stars and dancing fairies around it,' Ginny said, making Hermione laugh.
'Those were pretty.'
'I know, right? Like I haven't eaten my mother's cake before.'
'It was a delicious cake, and I've never seen so many tiers on a wedding cake before. I bet she would've been offended had you bought a cake.''
'You sound just like Harry. "We have to think of Mum's feelings",' Ginny mimicked.
'Well, I'm sure she didn't mind baking your cake.'
'Oh, not at all. Anything for Harry,' Ginny said, smiling. 'So, you think Rose is nervous about being the Maid of Honour tomorrow?'
'Is Rose ever nervous about anything?' Hermione snorted.
'Well, maybe that her grades might not be all Outstandings.'
Hermione tried to elbow her, but Ginny had too firm a hold on her arm. 'Try that with someone who wasn't a professional player, Hermione.'
They got back to the Great Hall just in time to see them all get their diplomas.
Rose came running, her cheeks flushed in happiness. 'Look Mum, I got all O's!'
Hermione felt Ginny's twinkling eyes on her and said, 'Nicely done, dear, better than me.'
Rose's eyes widened in surprise.
'I got an E in defence.'
'Just an idiot Professor,' Tom said, picking his daughter's diploma from her hand and examining it before handing it back.
Hermione noted Ginny's eyes searching his empty fingers. 'Nice charmwork,' Ginny whispered in her ear.
'Good work, Rose,' Tom said. 'Now you've got to show your skills in the real world.'
'Yes, Dad.'
'Have fun celebrating at Hogsmeade,' Hermione called out to the teens in a hurry to leave.
'I was never that desperate to get out of here,' Tom said.
'Me neither,' Harry said wistfully, making them share an understanding glance.
'Must be why you were dumb enough to become a Professor,' Hermione said, smirking at Tom.
'Why, Miss Granger, I believe you deserve detention for speaking out of turn to a Professor like that.'
Ginny sputtered in protest when Tom dragged Hermione off. 'You're getting married tomorrow!'
'See you tomorrow!' Hermione called out cheerfully over her shoulder.
'Really? They couldn't do without each other for one day?' Ginny grumbled, feeling Harry's arm land over her shoulder.
'We couldn't,' he said with a wink.
'True,' Ginny replied. 'Wait, does that mean we're alone, too?'
'Lily went off to stay with friends,' Harry replied slowly. 'I think you may be on to something.'
'Follow me, Potter,' Ginny said, grabbing his arm and dragging him off.
Hermione giggled when Tom kept pacing through the corridors as if they had to catch the Hogwarts Express. There weren't many students around anymore but the few who did pass them seemed to pick up their pace, looking rather frightened at their professor's expression. He'd finally reached his classroom and yanked her inside, closing the door with a thud.
Magic swirled around her.
When she looked down at herself, she found herself in a way too tiny Hogwarts school uniform with kneehigh socks, black Mary Jane's, and a skirt so short her now lack of underwear was obvious even while she was still standing up. Her white shirt's buttons nearly popped with every inhale of air, its fabric already stretched to its limits. Her Gryffindor tie hung loosely around her neck because her shirt was only buttoned up to her chest. Her outer robe was remarkably normal.
'Perv.'
'Have you been a bad girl who didn't finish her assignment, Miss Granger?'
'Why, Professor Riddle, you know I always finish my assignments.'
His long fingers grabbed her tie and started twisting it around his hand, forcing her closer and tightening the noose. She could barely restrain the moan on her lips, loving it when he took control of the amount of air she was allowed.
'And you stayed within the maximum allowed parchment length?'
Hermione bit her lip. Now that was just being unfair.
'Detention, Miss Granger,' he hissed under his breath, making her stomach do little summersaults.
He pulled her with him to the storage room, and while her mind was already making up images of him pushing her up against those shelves and taking her roughly, he merely pushed a bucket filled with soapy water in her hands.
'As you can see, my duelling students have made quite a mess,' he said, causing her eyebrows to rise into her hairline. His classroom had looked fine when she'd entered.
He swung her around by her tie, yanking her back to his front, and she groaned, watching the absolutely disgusting floor it had suddenly become.
'You will clean this, manually, on your hands and knees, Miss Granger,' he breathed into her ear, 'while I continue grading your insanely incompetent work. I do hope your cleaning skills are not as horrific as your overly wordy essays.'
Who was he calling overly wordy?
'Now, Miss Granger, or I will whip you into shape while you clean.'
She immediately dropped down on her knees and searched for a cloth in the bucket. When she realised she couldn't find one, she said demurely, 'Sorry, Professor, but there is no cloth to clean the floor with.'
'Use that disgusting robe of yours. All that red and gold is hurting my eyes.'
Well, now she knew why her robe was a normal size and shape.
She pulled it off and put it in the bucket, realising immediately how ridiculously exposed she was on her hands and knees with a tight white button down shirt—no bra so there was nothing left to the imagination—and a skirt which hemline was now basically dangling around her waist, leaving her buttocks fully exposed. She started cleaning the floor and noted out of the corner of her eyes, he actually had the nerve to sit down and pretend to grade papers.
If only that didn't make her cunt clench in desire.
Otherwise she would've hexed the hell out of him.
She started cleaning. Although cleaning wasn't quite the correct word one would use to describe smearing the dirt around. For stains that had basically just appeared out of thin air, Hermione quickly found they were rather resistant to her cleaning efforts. Not that a robe's fabric was well-suited for cleaning anyway. It was too clumsily big and did not have the right quality to absorb the soapy water, because they were designed to be water-resistant. However, these stains were too stubborn as if some had been burned into the floor. She really had to put in some elbow grease to get them to lighten even slightly.
Soon, she was drenched in perspiration, her shirt sticking to her back and arms. Her tie was constantly in the way, even though she tossed it behind her back every single time. Her arms and knees were not only aching, but also got covered in that grime of the floor. When she looked around and saw how much she still had to do, because his happened to be the largest classroom of Hogwarts, she was about to call it a night and tell him where he could stick this scene when she heard the paws of his chair scrape ominously on the floor.
Voices down the corridor froze her into position. Her head snapped around. 'You did ward the door, didn't you?'
'That would be entirely inappropriate of me. A Professor with a student in a locked classroom, whatever would people—'
'—you're not embarrassing Rose or me by having me be seen like this. Not with that reporter out to get me. Ward the damn door. Now.'
His jaw twitched, and she knew she would pay for this later, but he flashed his wand nevertheless, making the classroom seem empty to anyone looking through the window in the door before locking the door fully. No Alohomora would get this open.
'I'm not sure how to do this, Professor,' Hermione said quickly in an overly helpless tone of voice. 'The stains won't come off, not even from me.'
She dunked her robe into the water, held it above her head and squeezed it out over her face and chest, enjoying the bop of his throat.
'See,' she said, biting on her pouting lip and pushing her breasts forwards, putting her soaked shirt and hardened nipples on display, 'I'm still dirty.'
'So very dirty,' Tom said huskily, stopping in front of her face and using the wet robe to tie her wrists together above her head—with that kind of fabric, he would've had to use magic to make that work but she hadn't sensed it.
'And clearly bad at everything you do, isn't that right, Miss Granger?' He gestured around the still grime-filled, stained floor.
'I'm afraid no one ever taught me right, Professor Riddle.'
He grabbed her tie and pulled her to her feet. 'I suppose it's time someone did then.'
She dramatically bit her lip again and cast her eyes downward. 'Yes, please, Professor, teach me, please.'
He halted in front one of the student tables and pushed her hips against the highest rim of the slanted table. 'Lean forward, dirty girl.'
'Yes, Professor,' she replied demurely and used her bound hands to slide herself carefully over the table.
Her head dangled over the edge and so did her arms, while her breasts and hips poked into the hard wood. She 'eeped' when he kicked her legs apart and somehow stuck them to the table's legs, spreading her wide open for him. He circled her several times, his tongue clicking disapprovingly.
'Your hands, Miss Granger.'
'My hands, Professor?' she asked, playing dumb.
A loud slap on her behind had her cry out.
'Lesson one, Miss Granger, you will do as you're told immediately.'
Another slap struck her other buttock. She held up her arms as far as she could. He grabbed the robe that tied her wrists together and pulled them behind her neck, grabbing her tie and drawing it through that robe. Then he pulled harshly, yanking her upper body off the table by her throat and making her eyes water from the stress that put on her arms. His magic whirled underneath her shrinking the tabletop and when she started gasping for air, he slowly lowered her, making her realise her breasts now also dangled over the edge and she barely had any support at all. She had a hard time keeping her hands in her neck to avoid straining her throat on her tie. Her breathing turned heavy when his fingers slid over the inside of her thighs, which were already slick from her arousal.
'How am I going to teach such a filthy little girl, Miss Granger?'
'Any way you wish, Professor?'
He drew his fingers through her folds, making her squirm when he just avoided that spot she really wished for him to touch.
'Oh, Professor, what are you doing?!' she asked in exaggerated high, shocked voice when he pushed his finger inside her cunt.
'Checking to see if Miss Granger has been a naughty girl,' he said, curving his finger inside of her.
'I'm always naughty, Professor.'
'I see,' he replied, adding another finger. 'Do you touch yourself here, Miss Granger?'
'Every night, Professor.'
'Who do you think of when you touch yourself there, naughty girl?' he continued. She felt him slip in another while his thumb started to circle just out of reach of her clit.
'You, always you, Professor.'
'Do you scream my name when you come, little witch?'
'I can't come, Professor,' she said with a sad tone of voice. 'I'm bad at everything I do after all.'
The snort clearly escaped him as he pulled his fingers out of her, and her shoulders shook from holding in her laughter. But he quickly recovered and said in that same stern voice, 'From hereon, you will come on my command, and my command only. You hear me, Miss Granger?'
'Yes, Professor,' she said quietly, having a hard time keeping her face in check and not bursting out in laughter.
A familiar sound whistled through the air, and she just braced herself for the impact, feeling the whip slice into her buttock. Her pained cry filled the room. She knew ordering him to lock that door would come back to bite her.
'That's for your insolence, Miss Granger.'
'I'm sorry.'
She heard the whistle again and clenched her teeth together, not knowing where to expect the next hit and feeling it land on her other buttock. This one was less deep and sharp than the other. She let out her breath, gasping a couple of times before her breathing returned to normal. She knew he loved whipping her, but she wasn't a particularly great fan of it. She'd rather he'd use a crop, paddle or flogger. He was too damn skilled with where to land that whip for maximum impact, and his wounds could've a mean slicing sting that lasted for days on end if he wanted it to hurt. Her mind briefly went to her safeword, but she knew she didn't need it yet.
'You're what?'
'I'm sorry, Professor,' she corrected.
'Good,' he purred. 'See, Miss Granger, you're already learning.'
'Yes, Professor. Thank you for teaching me.'
She froze when she heard the whip and cringed when her shirt got ripped in half. How he managed to not hit skin on those turns was beyond her.
Must be magic.
His hands trailed over her back, examining every inch of her skin. She felt his hard cock poke against her buttocks underneath his robes and wished he'd get it over with and take her. She hadn't counted on this becoming an allnighter. They did have a wedding in the morning.
'Such beautiful unmarred flesh you have, little girl,' he said, tracing her back with the whip's tail now as he circled to the front of her.
Hermione clenched her teeth together. She'd take a caning now over this. He briefly halted his movements and said,
'Does my dumb girl remember her safeword?'
'Yes, Professor.'
'Tell me what it is, Hermione.'
'Spew.'
'Do you need to use it?'
She shook her head. He grabbed her tie and pulled her up so far that he could look directly into her eyes. 'Do. You. Wish. To. Use. It?'
She saw the desire in his eyes, and realised she could do this. She could please him.
'No, my Lord,' she said certainly.
He kept their eye contact for a while, making her slightly lightheaded from the lack of air.
'Very well, Miss Granger. Perhaps you show some promise after all.'
He abruptly let her loose, and she dropped so fast, she felt the table's legs that had her legs attached to them lift off the floor. She squeaked in fear of it tipping over, right when the whip landed on the back of her shoulder blade, turning her squeak into a full out shriek. Another landed diagonally across the first one, making her yell. He began circling her, his magic a soft caress over her body, a clear contradiction to the sharp blows of the whip. It soothed and eased, right before that sting would travel through her, making her holler. Soon, she was a sobbing mess with the skin of her back in tatters, blood dripping down into her neck, hair, and face.
'Please, Professor, please. I'll never be naughty again. I'll be a good girl, please. Please, Professor!'
'You'll do what I say now, won't you, Miss Granger?'
'Yes, Professor, anything you say.'
'Good girl.'
She held in the sigh of relief, noticing from the tone of his voice he'd been satisfied with how she'd held up under his whip. She didn't want to ruin it now and have him start over. She wasn't sure she'd be able to not use her safeword then.
'Do you know what good girls get, Miss Granger?'
'No, Professor, I've never been a good girl before.'
He'd stopped behind her, trailing the wounds on her buttocks and making her flinch. 'I do so love how reactive you are to my touch, little one, especially...' he paused, before sliding his finger over her clit, 'down here.'
Hermione bucked against the table and let out a moan, surprised at how sensitive her clit was after that lashing.
'Good girls, Miss Granger,' he added, now adding magic to his stimulation of her clit, 'get rewarded.'
'Oooooh.'
Her cunt clenched almost painfully at the emptiness. The tip of his cock brushed over her entrance. She tried to push her hips back but he'd clearly been expecting that and withdrew just enough to not enter her.
'What do you need, Miss Granger?'
'You, please,' she elongated that last syllable. 'Professor,' she quickly added.
'My what, Miss Granger?' he taunted.
'Oh for fuck's sake, will you stick it in already. I'm dying here. I can't wait for your goddamn monologues to be over,' Hermione snapped.
His laugh rolled over her, and he entered her with a harsh thrust. The position she was in granted her the sensation of him entering her at an angle that felt sharp and deep. She always loved the feeling of having him fill her to the hilt. When he grabbed her tie and pulled, her back arched, causing him to slip even deeper inside. Her whole body clenched in pain from the stress that arch caused on the wounds.
'I do love when you clench your cunt so tightly around me, Hermione. I'm actually glad you decided to drop the act and showed your true self. I would have healed these wounds, but now I think I rather like to see you hurt as I generously grant you a release.'
His other hand landed on her left buttock, his fingers gripping her hip tightly right where that wound was. And then, he rode her like she was a horse on a leash. He wasn't gentle. He wasn't kind. He fucked her hard and merciless, just the way she liked it. Whenever she was on the verge of choking and passing out fully, he switched from her tie to her hair, and when she had barely regained her breath again, he'd grab the tie and pull her throat closed again. The lack of air had her mind whirling. Quickly she could feel herself coming.
'Don't you dare, wench,' he hissed. 'I'll whip your breasts if you come before my permission.'
That caused her to clench her teeth and made her focus on holding it off. She had to hold it off. It swirled inside of her, whirling, and aching, and needing.
'Please, my Lord, please.'
'Not yet.'
'I can't. Please, Master.'
'You will wait for your Master's command,' he hissed, pumping into her harder, now only holding onto her hair and ignoring the tie.
She squealed, a high keening noise, when he pushed her further. She swore he was trying to make her disobey him.
Don't come. Don't come. Don't come. She repeated over and over in her mind.
However, her body started to sing, disagreeing loudly. His magic mingled with hers, making her desperate when she could feel it brush every inch of her, every inch of them, their bodies joined.
No, no, no, no.
She felt not only her pleasure but also his, and it was too much.
'PLEASE!' she yelled, knowing she could not hold it off any longer.
'Come,' he ordered, pushing into her harshly one final time.
His command and the relief of hearing it made her release follow his like an explosion. The feelings of both of their orgasms combined had her flying so high she knew she'd never come down ever again. When his cock slipped out of her, her restraints released their locks, and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back with him. He had them hovering in midair until she finally came down from her peak, and he lowered them slowly to the floor, holding her still shivering body tightly to him.
'Wow,' Hermione said. 'We should definitely do that again.'
'All of it?' he taunted.
Hermione frowned. 'My back. I don't feel the wounds anymore.'
'I believe you magically healed them in your state of bliss.'
She turned and looked up. 'Are you disappointed they're gone?'
He shrugged. 'Not really. It's quite a show of magical strength to simultaneously heal that many wounds effectively.'
'You would've rather been the one to heal them,' Hermione concluded, looking into his blank face.
'You know me too well.'
'I'll try not to do it next time.'
He stroked a curl of her hair away from her perspiring face. 'You really were made for me.'
She smiled, 'And you for me.'
- 24
- 25
- 26
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Prisoner