Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Contract	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 55312 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 26
- 27
- 28
Hello! Here is the new chapter, sorry it took so long. I’ll add it on fanfiction as well when the site starts working. UGH!

I have had a bit of a problem with this chapter so I’ll thank Lyra Aphrodite Moon for helping me with the changes the chapter desperately needed, Ankoku Dezaia for smacking my head, help me with the spelling and tell me to get my lazy arse of the couch and write! And finally thanks to my beta Lady-Gizzy for doing a final spell-check!

Review-answers!

Atrumnex ; Glad you like it! Yes, of course there will be more chapter, sorry it took me so long to update!

Heidi191976; I’ll hope you like this as well, then!

Acidqueen; *hides* yes, Hermione’s dad is dead. Hehe, maybe Voldemort realised that it was hard to rule people who constantly started to cry when you looked at them? Haha, or maybe Hermione is rubbing off on him? Oh, well. But he still believes he is the best that can happen to the world and the world is only stupid for not seeing it. Although, he do have a lot of other things to think about at the moment.

Hihi, that is so interesting, I actually used Hitler, or rather, the idea of Hitler, as a role model when I wrote this story. But now I have seen a very interesting documentary about Hitler and his body. Boy, that man was sick! Although, I have to say I understand him more. When he was younger, he had the same disease I have and I have to tell you, some days I too want to destroy the world. Although, I won’t do his mistake, the disease only gets worse if you are stressed, and starting a world war… well, not the most relaxing thing you can do. And besides, I have nothing against… well anyone really. So no reason to go off killing 6 billon people!

Anyhoooow, I have realised that Voldemort in this story is very unlike Hitler… Voldemort would never take drugs or get Parkinson… although, I think he is a hypochondriac just like Hitler. Hm… I think I got of track.

Yes, I too think Hermione is adaptable, I mean, just look how well she accepted that she was a witch and skipped off to a whole new world at the age of 11! I know Harry does the same, but for him it’s not like it can get any worse… but for Hermione, well, she must have had a quite good childhood. No wonder she is in Gryffindor.

Max… yeah, he is the puppy of the story. And no, he isn’t a Death Eater, but he doesn’t mind them. He is very diplomatic. And since his father is in the upper rank, no one dares to hurt him. You’ll find out a little more of him in this story, but I’m not sure I’ll write a spin-off… ah, we’ll see.

Although, I have been planning to give Dmitri a little spin-off sequel thing!

Jessie; Hope you haven’t died from waiting! And I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Marieve; Yes, it’s hard to write a Hermione/Voldemort, but I’m glad you think I do a good job! Hope you’ll like this chapter as well!

LDeetz; I’m glad you liked the story! Here is another update!

Chapter 27

Hermione couldn’t sleep. Voldemort was lying next to her with his hand on her stomach. He was snoring lightly and dreaming about fish, for some reason. At the end of the bed, their three month old son lay. As he wasn’t making any noises, she guessed he was asleep as well.

She was staring up in the ceiling, thinking about her parents. What was her mother doing now? Was she even alive? Yes, she had to be. Hermione had to keep her hopes up. Her father was dead, but perhaps she could meet her mother again. She wanted that.

Feeling the tears rising in her eyes again, Hermione took a couple of deep breaths. It was her fault her father was dead and her mother captured. If she hadn’t been a witch, none of this would have happened! Or, if she had been there for her parents, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe she would have been able to stop them from going to that meeting? Why hadn’t she looked after them before?

She remembered the night she found out they had disappeared;

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?” Hermione stepped inside Dumbledore’s office and found it occupied by three other people; Dumbledore, Tonks and another man.

“Yes, please have a seat, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore made a gesture at the armchair.

Watching the two others with curious eyes, Hermione sat down in the armchair. It was just before dinner and she hoped this would be quick; she had missed lunch and was quite hungry now.

“Hi, Hermione,” Tonks said with a friendly smile.

Hermione smiled back at her. “Has something happened?”

“I’m afraid it has,” Dumbledore said with a grave face. “You remember when I promised a couple of Order members would stand guard outside your parents’ house?”

Hermione nodded and suddenly felt her stomach clench.

“Last night, Miss Tonks and Mr Alfred were standing guard. Your parents said they had some sort of meeting and left around six. They never returned. We think they were kidnapped by Death Eaters.”

It took Hermione, the most brilliant witch her age, a full minute to understand what Dumbledore was saying. She would never see her parents again.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Hermione was pulled out from her memory by her husband. He caressed her stomach and moved closer to her. She was surprised to notice that he was actually worried about her. Well, he did have to keep her healthy.

“I can’t,” she whispered back, not wanting to wake the baby.

Voldemort sighed. “We are going to find your mother tomorrow. It will all go much more smoothly if you have rested.”

She turned toward him. “I haven’t seen her in three years. She has gone through horrors I can’t imagine. What if she isn’t my mother any more? What if…”

He shushed her and embraced her. “At least she isn’t dead. That’s the only irreversible thing. We will be able to heal her.”

Hermione let herself be comforted by his words, even if she knew they were lies. There were worse things than death in the world.

Or were they? Hermione closed her eyes and listened to her husband’s heartbeats. She had thought marrying Voldemort would be worse than death. That had proved to be wrong. She was actually quite comfortable.

“Where will we take her?” Hermione asked. “I don’t want her to go from being locked in some lab to being locked in your cells.”

“The Lestrange’s have a very comfortable house in Cornwall. It’s near a small village and the forest. I can borrow it if Rabastan hasn’t sold it. When Bella and Rodolphus were imprisoned, he sold a lot of heirlooms.” Voldemort stroked her back. “Should I fetch you a sleeping potion?”

“You are so nice,” she whispered. “When did you get so nice?”

Voldemort snorted. “I would rather not have you crying all over me again.”

Hermione chuckled.

He was quiet for a while. “Or, we could just have sex.”

Now it was her time to snort. “I’m not really in the mood.”

“I could help you with that.” He teasingly kissed the corner of her mouth.

She let out a small groan, and his lips travelled over her cheek and down to her neck.

“Did you ever miss your mother?” Hermione asked.

Voldemort sighed and she could feel him becoming annoyed. “I never had a mother. How can you miss something you never had?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

He was thinking about too many things for her to pick up anything. It was a good thing that she now knew how to block his thoughts; otherwise she would have a constant headache. The only thing she couldn’t block were his emotions. For a Dark Lord, Voldemort was really emotional. They shifted faster than clouds on a stormy day. Nevertheless, it was nice to know what he was feeling. She felt like she understood him better.

“What was it like?” she asked.

“What was what like?” He was slowly stroking her left breast.

“The orphanage.” She had wanted to ask him about it for some time now.

He became annoyed. “I hated it. Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”

“Well, hopefully, you are going to meet my mother soon. Don’t you think it would be fair if I found out some things about your childhood?” she asked and became a bit puzzled when his annoyance changed to amusement.

“What do you want to know?” he asked and started to draw circles on her stomach.

“Did you have any adults you looked up to?”

“No. A couple of hags controlled the orphanage. I still despise them, even if they have been dead for a very long time. The only male adult we would meet was the priest. All he told us was how dirty and sinful we were. The best thing we could do was to join the army against the godless Germans. Dumbledore reminded me a lot of him.”

Hermione just snorted. Dumbledore had lost all her respect when she found out he was the one who kept her from her son. She didn’t know what to feel about his death. So mostly, she didn’t think about it at all.

“And they both had a thing for boys,” Voldemort added after a while.

Hermione frowned when she felt his dark satisfaction. “What do you mean?”

“Dumbledore was homosexual,” he said with a smile. “I think that is why he really hated me. Because I wouldn’t go out with him.”

Hermione laughed. “Dumbledore wanted to go out with you?”

“Well, who wouldn’t?” He kissed her shoulder. “The priest did. But he called it a cleansing for my immortal soul.”

“No wonder you are so insane,” Hermione muttered and turned to her side. She stroked his hair out from his face. “You had such a horrible childhood.”

He was smiling. “Then why don’t you kiss me and make it all better?”

She did and felt his happiness and contentment. He was also mocking her silently for falling for the old I-had-an-horrible-childhood-please-fuck-me trick. Oh, well. At least he made her feel better.

xxx

The next morning, Voldemort woke up first. He quickly dressed and left for his office. He was after all wanted in the whole world so he couldn’t just walk into a Ministry like that. A good thing was that the president of the German Ministry had to help him. If the president tried to arrest him, Voldemort could just show the world exactly what had happened to a certain young maiden in the ‘70s. That was some serious Dark Arts.

When he had made sure he wouldn’t meet any problems in Germany, he went back to his wife who was awake. She was pacing back and forth and when he came closer, she put her arms around him.

“What if she is dead?” she whispered into his chest.

“She won’t be,” he promised, not sure why he was so certain.

They left about half an hour later and arrived in Berlin by portkey. If the president of Germany knew what was good for him, he would have someone waiting for them by the Berliner Dom. Luckily for the president, a witch was waiting for them.

“Mr Riddle,” the woman said with a heavy accent. “Please come with me.”

Hermione gripped his hand as they walked down to a subway. He let her hold him. She seemed nervous and he found it amusing that she would go to him for support. That meant she trusted him, which was good.

The woman led them through a door which read Personnel Only in German. He wasn’t surprised to discover the Ministry behind it. It was much like the one in England, magically enlarged and a lot of witches and wizards hurrying here and there. No one gave them more then one look. Voldemort had put a glamour over his eyes and both he and Hermione were dressed in casual robes.

They met the president on the second floor which was said to be a special hospital for Muggles who had been affected by magic.

“Mr Riddle,” the president said. Voldemort could feel how sweaty and nervous the man was when he shook his hand. Voldemort wasn’t impressed at all. “These are the victims of the WFM. Horrible story, simply horrible.”

They were lead into a big hospital room with ten beds occupied by patients. Hermione looked around. “She isn’t here.”

The president led them to the next room, but once again Hermione couldn’t see her mother. He could feel how she started to become desperate. Voldemort tired to calm her down, although he didn’t really know how to do it. However, when they reached the fourth room, Hermione gasped and ran to one of the beds. In it sat a quite thin woman with long brown hair like Hermione’s. They looked a little like each other, even if the older woman seemed quite sick.

“Mother?” Hermione asked, trembling. Voldemort went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Mum, it’s me, Hermione.”

The woman simply stared at her with empty eyes. Voldemort could feel his wife tense. She was about to cry. Oh, Merlin not again. He spun around and faced the president.

“Haven’t you done anything to help her?” he hissed.

The president blanched. “We are working on it. A nurse is in another room, trying out a new potion. It has been said to work on most things, but we aren’t sure.”

“Well, let me look at it so I can decide,” Voldemort ordered and glared at the man.

“Well, you have to understand that this is a national treasure, you can’t just…” Voldemort interrupted him with a do-I-have-to-threaten-you-look.

The other man hurried away. Hermione was trying to talk to her mother, but the woman simply continued to stare at her. It only took a moment for the president to come back with a nurse. Voldemort blinked when he saw what the nurse was carrying. It was a big stone cup. Even at a distance, Voldemort could feel it’s magic.

“The potion from this goblet has helped other victims,” the president explained proudly as the nurse went to Mrs Granger’s side.

He could hear Hermione gasp when she saw it. She must have reached the same conclusion as he had done. How in Salazar’s name had it ended up here? And more importantly, how would he be able to take it with him?

“Is that…?” Hermione whispered to him.

He nodded and stared as the nurse let Hermione’s mum drink from the Cup. Once she drank from it, she shut her eyes and fell down in the bed.

“This has happened to the others as well,” the nurse explained. “In just a minute, she should be back to normal.”

He could see Hermione holding her breath as they waited. He counted the seconds in his head. If this worked, this was indeed the Cup and he would have to have it. If he called his Death Eaters, they could fight their way out of here.

Fifty-seven seconds later, Mrs Granger opened her eyes. She looked around, confused, until her eyes landed on her daughter.

“Hermione?” she asked with wonder in her voice.

Hermione let out a small squeal and hugged her mother. Voldemort was convinced. This was the Cup. He called for his Death Eaters.

“She will have to sleep now,” the nurse said kindly to Hermione. “After that, all her memories should be back again.”

Just then, Mrs Granger yawned. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in years, Hermione.” Another yawn. “You are so big.” She fell asleep.

Voldemort acted quickly. “I’ll transport her back to our home then.” He waved his wand over his mother-in-law’s body and it disappeared. Hermione seemed to be ready to complain, but he stopped her with a look. He didn’t want to worry about Hermione’s mother when the fighting began.

“And I’ll take that,” he continued and snatched the Cup from the nurse’s hand.

The president seemed upset. “What do you think you are doing, Mr Riddle? I welcome you to my country and you steal from me?”

Voldemort arched an eyebrow. “Is it really stealing when you take something someone else has already stolen?”

“We didn’t steal that!” the president exclaimed. “We found it in the possession of Grindelwald! When he was defeated, it was our duty to take care of his things!”

“And is my duty to take it from you,” Voldemort explained, shrank the Cup and put it in his pocket as his Death Eaters started to Apparate into the room. Too bad he couldn’t Disapparate. They seemed to have a block on that in these rooms.

Suddenly, the nurse blew in a whistle and guards who seemed to be armed with both wands and some sort of gun started to enter the room. It took only moments before the fighting began.

He was very surprised to see that even Hermione seemed to be a part of the fight. However, she didn’t do worse than stunning her opponent. At least he didn’t have to worry about her. He quickly disposed of three guards, but more seemed to be coming. He screamed to his Death Eaters to move the fight toward the exit. Once they were in the main hall, they would be able to Apparate.

Suddenly, Hermione screamed. Voldemort automatically turned toward her. She was still standing, but she was looking at something in the other end of the room. Voldemort didn’t have time to see what it was, because one of the guards took the opportunity to shoot him. Since Voldemort hadn’t focused on his shield, the bullet hit his shoulder. He stumbled backwards. How dared they use Muggle weapons in a wizard-fight? Have they no honour? Furiously, he lifted his wand to kill the insolent guard.

Nothing happened.

Oh, it was one of those guns. He had heard about them. The bullet held a poison that blocked the ability to use magic.

And now Voldemort was in a fight without magic.

Shit.

Instead of becoming scared, he became angry. Very, very angry. With a fury that even surprised himself, he jumped at the guard who had shot him and broke his neck with his bare hands. Then he used the guard as a shield against a spell from another guard.

In less than one minute, Voldemort had killed seven guards in various ways. Who said you needed a wand when you could murder someone with a strike to the neck? Or by poking someone’s eyes out? Or by kicking them in the back?

Although, when he didn’t have anyone else to fight, Voldemort’s last powers disappeared and he sank down on the floor. He forced himself not to black-out, but he had no idea how he would survive this. They were finally at the main hall, but he didn’t have the power to Apparate. The German guards seemed to have become weakened, but it was only a matter of time before they would have gathered more people to fight them. They had to leave now! Nevertheless, he couldn’t show his weakness to his Death Eaters. What if they turned against him as Snape had done? That wouldn’t be good at all.

“My Lord?” That was Rowle. He was one of them who might try to kill him if he thought he stood a chance. Voldemort needed to get up. He needed to show them that he wasn’t weak. They would take him down if he didn’t. They would betray him. They would…

“Oh, Merlin!” Hermione was suddenly next to him. She placed her hand on his and gasped. Why did he suddenly get the feeling she knew exactly what he thought?

“It’s just a scratch, woman,” he managed to say.

“But what if it’s infected? You can’t get up and let it spread. I’ll take you home,” she said in a non-negotiable voice. “We are leaving!”

The Death Eaters looked at him. Voldemort just wanted to go home.

“You heard my wife,” he snarled. “We are leaving.”

The Death Eaters who weren’t fighting Disapparated at once.

Hermione didn’t waste a moment to Apparate them to the Lestrange country house. They had decided during breakfast to go there if they found her mother.

The house was big. Three floors filled with important and unimportant rooms. Voldemort had been there before, but Hermione hadn’t. However, she somehow seemed to know where the closest bedroom was. She half-carried him to it and helped him lay down. The moment his head hit the pillow, he allowed himself to fall into a well-deserved black-out.

xxx

With the help of Lolly, Hermione healed her husband. He was unconscious during the whole time and she was thankful for it. She didn’t really know what to say to him. He had been so impressive and yet so terrifying when he killed all those guards. She had never seen anything like it. He had been berserk.

When the healing was done, Hermione found herself sitting next to him, stroking his wound. He had been afraid when he realised he couldn’t use magic. When Hermione realised he was afraid about what his Death Eaters would do, she had tried to take them away from there as soon as possible. If he died, she would be screwed. Probably literally as well. She didn’t want that.

“Lady?” Lolly was back.

Hermione looked at the small creature at the end of the bed. “Yes, Lolly?”

“Lady’s mother is moving. Lolly thinks she will wake soon.”

Hermione felt her heart speed up. Rose Granger had always been the source of security for Hermione. No one knew Hermione better than her mother and they had been able to share everything. She was the one who comforted Hermione when she was sad. Sang for her when she couldn’t sleep. Hugged her when she felt lonely. Made dinner for her when she was hungry. Hermione couldn’t have dreamt of a better mother.

Was she ready for meeting her again? She had been so sad when her mother didn’t recognise her. What if Rose had forgotten her again? What would Hermione do then?

Deciding to take one thing at the time, Hermione stood and left the room. Her mother was lying in the room next door. With a deep breath to calm herself down, she opened the door. The room was luxurious and yet cosy. Blue and white were the main colours and the furnishings were made of a light material. Rose Granger was laying on a king sized bed with sky-blue sheets. She was groaning and moving around. Hermione conjured a chair and sat down next to the bed. She didn’t want to frighten her mother. However, she wanted to be close to her when she woke up.

Rose Granger had always been the strongest woman Hermione knew. She was tougher than most people and very confident. She was never afraid to stand up for the weaker. She had studied law before she decided to try dentistry. Her law school knowledge had been of great use when she and Hugo wanted to open their own practice. She was never late to say if she thought someone did something wrong. Hermione had always admired her.

That was why she was afraid now. Would her mother still be the same after everything she had went through? Or would she be a broken shell, like Harry? Would Hermione spend the next ten years trying to keep her mother alive?

Hermione was pulled out from her thoughts when Rose suddenly sat up. She was panting and looking around wildly.

“Mum?” Hermione asked in a small voice.

Rose turned her head toward her. For a moment she just stared at her. Hermione prepared for the worst.

“Hermione?” Rose asked. “What are you… Where am I?”

Hermione could feel some tears escape her eyes. She took her mother’s hand. “You are home now. With me.”

Rose seemed to relax. “Oh, honey, why are you crying? Where is your father?” Something foggy went over her eyes. “No… he isn’t here anymore, is he?”

Hermione shook her head. They sat in silence for a while. Hermione let her tears run freely. Rose only seemed thoughtful. Perhaps she was still in shock?

“You have grown,” Rose finally said.

Hermione nodded.

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty,” Hermione said. “I’ll be twenty-one in about four and a half months.”

“So I have missed three years of your life?” Rose asked and looked at her with a sad smile. “What a horrible mother I am.”

Hermione crawled up on the bed and embraced her mother. “No, you aren’t. I could have come for your sooner, but I thought you were dead. I left you in that horrible place and…” Hermione began to sob again.

“Oh, honey,” Rose whispered. “It feels like it was all a dream. But it wasn’t, was it?”

Hermione shook her head against Rose’s shoulder.

“What is this place?” Rose asked. “This isn’t our home.”

“No,” Hermione said. “A lot have changed. I have a whole new life now. But before I tell you, are you hungry? I can call our House-Elf… that’s a servant… and order some food.”

Rose frowned. “Servant? Since when do you have servants?”

“Since she married me.”

Both women turned toward the door. Voldemort were standing there with just his pants on and a bandage around his shoulder. When he got their attention, he slowly walked into the room and sat down on the chair Hermione had conjured.

“You shouldn’t be up,” Hermione said softly. “You need to heal.”

He grimaced at her. “I will heal quicker if I don’t have to think about it.”

Rose was looking at them in confusion. “You are married?”

“Oh,” Hermione blushed. “Yes. That is one of the things that has changed. I have a son as well. He is almost three months old.”

Rose’s eye narrowed. “How did this happen?” she asked sternly.

Hermione couldn’t resist smiling. Suddenly, she had her mother back again. This was the mother she remembered.

Voldemort chuckled. “Well, it’s a long story.”

Rose eyed him from head to toe in an unimpressed way. “Well, does this husband have a name?”

“Oh, sorry, yes, of course,” Hermione said. “Rose Granger, this is my husband Lord…”

“Tom Riddle,” Voldemort interrupted.

Hermione frowned when Rose and Voldemort shook hands. Why was he calling himself Tom Riddle all of a sudden?

“A Lord? Well, I guess that explains the servants,” Rose said and looked at her daughter again. “I want to hear your story later, but right now I’m more interested to know what has happened. The last three years seem to be quite foggy.”

“Well, it is my husband… Tom,” Hermione tasted the name on her tongue. It didn’t suit him. “Who has been searching for you. Or, he employed someone to do it. I don’t yet know all the details.”

Voldemort nodded. “The reason why Hermione didn’t look for your earlier was because she thought the Death Eaters had taken you. I trust you know who they are?”

Ah, so that was why he hadn’t used his real name. He didn’t want to scare her. It was quite considerate of him. She wondered why he did it.

“Yes,” Rose said. “Hermione have told me a little about the war. They follow some insane psychopath who calls himself Voldemort, I think?”

Hermione winced. Voldemort, however, just chuckled and nodded. “Well, I found out that you weren’t kidnapped by the Death Eaters. So I began poking around…” He told them what he had managed to find out, but left out how he managed to find it. When he came to the rescue-part he made it sound like they had got help from the government to shut the lab down. When he was done, Rose was crying silently.

“Can we have a real funeral for Hugo?” she asked.

Voldemort nodded. “Of course.”

He stood and looked at Hermione.

“Oh, I should go and check on the boy,” Hermione said. “Do you think you can handle being on your own for some time?”

Rose smiled a little through the tears. “You don’t have to baby sit your own mother, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled too. “Right. Just call for Lolly if you need anything. I’ll be back soon.”

Rose simply nodded and Hermione followed her husband outside and down to a living room.

“Thank you,” Hermione mumbled and sank down in one of the overblown green sofas. This room showed very clearly that the house was owned by Slytherins.

“For what?” he asked and sank down next to her.

“For giving my mother back to me. For not telling her about… you.”

Voldemort chuckled. “I have heard that a mother-in-law can be quite a pain in the arse if she doesn’t like you. And I figured that she will hate me enough for marrying her nineteen-year-old daughter and knocking her up during the first week. She doesn’t need to know that I am the Dark Lord as well.”

Hermione laughed. “Are you afraid of my mother?”

“Well, I have seen what mothers do for their children if they think they are in trouble. I would like to be able to sleep without having to worry about being murdered,” he said in an easy tone. “You should start to think of a story about how we met.”

Hermione nodded.

“And,” he added. “You should also think about what you should say to me.”

Hermione looked up at him. “What should I tell you?”

He looked into her eyes. Now she realised his eyes were so dark red they almost seemed black. Was he angry? She didn’t have direct contact with him so she didn’t know.

“About how you knew I couldn’t use my magic after I was being hit by that bullet. And how you knew I needed to get away from the Death Eaters as soon as possible.”

Her eye’s widened. “Oh.”

Voldemort bent down to kiss her. “I will look forward to hearing your tale.” Then he rose and Apparated away. He had clearly got his magic back.

Hermione stared at the point he had disappeared. So he noticed she knew what he was thinking. That wasn’t good. Good thing he couldn’t kill her when he found out.

xxx

Hermione spent the rest of the evening catching up with her mother. They sat together with Dmitri in Rose’s room and Hermione told her some safe stories about Voldemort. It was nice, but Rose started to cry more than Hermione had ever seen her cry before. It was uncomfortable, but at least it showed that Rose still felt something.

Rose finally fell asleep and Hermione went back with her son to hers and Voldemort’s room. At least she thought it was hers and Voldemort’s room now. Lolly hadn’t said anything else and this was the room Voldemort had thought of when he was injured.

Hermione made herself ready for bed and then lay down in it. However, she couldn’t sleep. So much had happened during the last twenty-four hours. She had got her mother back and she had seen Voldemort kill people. Would she have nightmares?

She didn’t know what time it was, but she was awake when Voldemort came back. He saw her awake, but didn’t seem to care. He just lay down and fell asleep. She realised he must be very tired because of his injury. However, with him there, she finally found enough comfort to fall asleep as well.

After a while, she started to dream. Voldemort was in the dream and they were on a playground. She was swinging a swing and Voldemort was sitting in a sandbox, building a small fort made of sand.

“If you swing any higher, you are going to fall off,” dream-Voldemort said.

Hermione didn’t take his advice. She tried to swing higher and higher. Her hair flew around her face and her head felt so funny. It was uncomfortable and yet exciting. Voldemort stood up and started to jump on his fort.

“Why are you doing that?” dream-Hermione asked curiously.

He shrugged and climbed out of the sandbox. “It wasn’t funny anymore.” He went to her and sat on the other swing. Seconds or hours went past. Voldemort managed to swing higher than her.

“Aren’t you afraid of falling off?” dream- Hermione asked him.

“I never fall!” dream-Voldemort said. “I fly!”

And with that, he left the swing and took off into the air. Higher and higher he flew. He seemed to enjoy it. Hermione wanted to try it too. Without a moment of hesitation, she let go on the swing. For a moment, she was actually flying.

But then she started to fall. She fell and fell and fell and…

“Uhm…”

Hermione woke up by Voldemort’s groans. She sat up and saw her husband tossing and turning in his sleep. When she placed her hand on his arm, she noticed how warm he was. He was sick! She could feel his pain.

“Voldemort?” she asked and carefully stroked his cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Voldemort opened his eyes. Even in the darkness she could see that they were black. He was panting and sweating. “It hurts… Merlin, it hurt’s so much!”

Hermione’s eyes fell on the bandage on his shoulder. A dark red spot had appeared and it was spreading out. She removed it as cautiously as she could. He started to sob. Hermione held back a gasp when she saw the wound under the bandage. The area around the bullet hole was black. She had never seen anything like it before. It was probably an infection. It wasn’t her strong side.

“Lolly,” she called. Her mind was working furiously. What could she do?

The House-Elf appeared. “Lady?”

“Something is wrong with my husband; do you know anything about infections?”

Lolly shook her head. “Shall Lolly fetch a Healer?”

Since Hermione was still holding her hand on Voldemort, she could feel his fear about calling a Healer. He didn’t want people to believe he was weak.

“Not yet. Bring me something so I can clean the wound again,” Hermione said.

Lolly disappeared for a moment and then came back with a bottle and a couple of towels and other useful things. Hermione quickly started to work. Voldemort groaned every time she touched his arm.

“W-why don’t you use your m-magic, w-witch?” Voldemort asked through clenched teeth after a while. She could hear the pain and humiliation in his voice. He was humiliated to let her see him like this.

“I don’t know how!” Hermione complained. “I have never learned how to do things like that!”

“Don’t you l-love me enough to t-try?” he mumbled. His eyes were closed again and tears ran from under his eyelashes.

Love him? Hermione stared down at her husband in shock. She didn’t love him, did she? Sure, she didn’t hate him any longer, although… love? Did he think she loved him? She couldn’t feel anything like that in his mind. It was all pain. She felt sick because of his pain. She had to try to heal him even if she had no idea what to do.

Letting her instincts lead her, she placed one hand on top of the wound and the other over his heart.

“Ammendo,” she whispered. She could feel the magic run through her hands and into his body. Voldemort cried out. His pain was almost unbearable. It couldn’t be just the bullet; it had to be something else. Something worse.

The magic continued to flow between them like a steady pulse. It was like fighting darkness with a light. She couldn’t see what was hurting him, but she could sense it. It was a toxic. The bullet must have been poisoned. Voldemort was dying.

For some reason, it made Hermione fight harder. She didn’t want him to die. He was her husband and that he should remain. She had already lost two families with Harry, Ron and her father. She wouldn’t loose her new family. Never.

Her magic was winning against the poison. Slowly, it began to disappear from his body. Voldemort let out a hoarse scream when her magic defeated the last of the poison. Hermione became aware of her own surrounding again. The sun was rising outside their window. She had been healing him for hours.

She reached for the water Lolly had left and drank thirstily. Voldemort had already sunk into unconsciousness. Hermione looked down at him. He was still pale and sweaty, but his breathing came slow and steady. She smiled and lay down, spooning against his side. Voldemort turned in his sleep so he was lying with her back against her. Hermione placed an arm around his waist and fell asleep again.
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The Contract