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The Apprentice	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 62961 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
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
- 27
- 28
- 29
Chapter 28

After she’d excused herself at the table to Ron, Ginny and Fleur, Hermione took a detour to her destination. First, she went to Ginny’s bedroom in a very visible manner, taking expert note to find out where Alastor Moody was. Fortunately, he was with Harry in Fred and George’s room on the second floor and Ginny’s bedroom was on the first. As long as he wasn’t looking out the window with his magical eye when she crossed the yard, she’d be fine.

Quickly, she disillusioned herself, grabbed the book she needed, and walked stealthily to the little secluded area behind the broom shed. The shed protected her from immediate view of the Burrow, and as she wriggled through the overgrown bushes and trees, she knew she could not be spotted from any direction once she reached the tiny open spot. A trickling of warmth ran down her body when she undid the Disillusionment Charm. Satisfied she’d made it, Hermione sat down on the barren ground. Hardly any light made it through here, making it necessary to conjure a blue bell flame as usual and let it hover in the air above her.

Relieved she could continue her studies, she pulled out “Stretching Magical Boundaries, The Dark Arts” and tapped the book with her wand. The pages swirled by, until they stopped at the chapter, which she’d ended up reading the last time. Her eyes scanned the text about enforcing your will upon inanimate objects again. Not that it was unnecessary for her to reread it. She recalled every word of it. So, she pocketed the book and rose to her feet, her wand still in her hand. Shaking her shoulders loose and closing her eyes, her mind went over everything she’d learnt so far from Lord Voldemort about controlled casting. She made her wand tap against her leg subconsciously before letting out a deep breath and opening her eyes. Her wrist hardly moved to make her wand do a tiny swish.

‘Accio toy dog!’

She’d cast at the shed, knowing Mr. Weasley had an old, broken-down, battery-operated, toy dog among his immense Muggle collection. It was one of those things that walked and barked, and you got bored with rather easily. It landed in her hands in a flash. Smiling about the speed in which summoned items came to her these days, Hermione placed it on the ground carefully, and it stayed standing despite its crooked paw. She circled her wand above her head.

‘Protego Totalum!’

She didn’t want anyone noticing her slightly illegal practise session – not with all these Aurors swarming around the Burrow. Still, she had to practise. She was only here for two weeks and if she got back to Lord Voldemort without having made any progress on her studies, it was bound to end incredibly painful for her. She didn’t much fancy being on the receiving end of his wand when he was pissed.

Focusing her mind on what she wanted the toy to do, she pointed her wand at the dog. ‘Volantio!’

Nothing happened.

Hermione growled and pulled out the book again to recheck if she did the curse right. But she had been right in her pronunciation, and you weren’t supposed to do any wand movements at all with this spell. It was just cast and aim. So, that wasn’t the reason it hadn’t worked. The only thing it could be was that she hadn’t willed it hard enough. She really needed to want the dog to walk above anything else.

Raising her wand, Hermione tried again, and again, and again, and again.

Frustrated, when all it did was twitch occasionally, she kicked the stupid dog against the shed’s wall. It bounced back effortlessly, rolling to her feet as if daring her to repeat the action. Anger bubbled up inside of her. She’d done all the other spells in the book easily when she’d still been inside those chambers underneath Riddle mansion. Sure, occasionally Voldemort had given her some minor pointers, while that annoying snake of his had been hissing in an obviously gleeful manner whenever she’d failed to do something right immediately. But never before had she had no result whatsoever.

Why wasn’t this working? Surely, she willed it hard enough by now? Stupid toy dog. How dare it disobey her commands? It was a thing for crying out loud – a silly item, which little children found tedious after having seen it walk and bark for an hour or so. An ignorant thing like that should do as she said easily. Her lip set in a thin line, her eyes ablaze, she pointed her wand and repeated the curse. Something noticeably clicked inside of her. Unable to stop it and not really feeling like it, because she wanted that damn dog to bloody well move now, her dark power left her wand with a vengeance, and she smirked satisfactory when the broken paw clicked into place and the dog began moving around her.

Finally.

At first she made it do the normal things it was designed to do, then, she got creative and made it dig holes, climb trees, bow into impossible angles, chew on the shed’s wooden wall, raise its hind paw as if it peed, fetch a garden gnome and shake it around before biting its disproportional large head off. The head rolled away, while the headless eight inch remains fell to the ground like a ragdoll, unmoving, still, and … dead!

Her breath stuck in her throat, and she felt herself grow cold when she realised she’d killed the creature. She’d killed a living being!

Oh God, oh God, oh God …

Little drops of sweat formed on her forehead. She began breathing heavily, while her wand slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground.

‘No, no, no,’ she repeated under her breath, panicking, clutching to her hair.

A desperate howl followed when she noticed the toy dog still moved and it chewed on the remains – powered by her magic despite her fallen wand.

‘NO!’ she shouted, kicking it away, wanting it to stop, needing it to stop.

She dropped to her knees. Her hands rummaged around, trying futilely to put the incomplete bits of the garden gnome back together again. When the relentless toy dog charged at those bits again, the fury and despair she felt inside was not containable. Rising to her feet, she grabbed her wand and flashed it, determined to destroy that dog once and for all.

Destruction she got.

The token dog exploded in a burst of blackness, yet her anger remained unsatisfied. It demanded more retribution. It wanted more to still the pain. Destroying that which had only been a puppet doing her bidding had not fed the craving. It enhanced it. She staggered on her feet as it grew inside her – the flow of dark magic expanded rapidly: beyond her control, beyond her sanity, and beyond everything deemed safe.

Vaguely her mind registered the green glow and the heat coming from the pendant against her chest. Then, all she saw was dark smoke, whirling out of her, causing her to cough as it put her blue bell flame out and plunged her into darkness. She screamed in fury when her magic stayed circling around her body, unable to expand beyond some invisible wall that it pounced against.

Her magic needed to get out. It wanted its freedom. It had to destroy that stupid wall!

More power, she needed more power. Her dark magic demanded more power and got what it wanted. A burst of black lightning charged out of her wand. Its force was accompanied by a sharp pain in her chest. Her left hand grabbed her chest over her heart. She wasn’t well. Her body trembled; she suddenly felt sick. She swaggered, trying to breathe. She needed fresh air. All that dark smoke around her … it was suffocating her. It was killing her. Feeling light-headed, dizziness overcame her and her legs gave way.

Strong arms caught her and pulled her flaccid body against his chest. Recognising his scent, she buried her cold, perspiring face in his black robes – her fingers curled around the fabric and held onto it like it was her only lifeline.

‘Hermione?’ his voice whispered above her.

Yes, cold, his voice was the perfect example to how she felt. It was so cold, like she’d never be warm again. Shivering, she snuggled farther against him. He was warm, like a nice hot stove or an electric blanket. Merlin, she needed the heat. Her bones and organs were freezing.

‘Hermione.’

Annoyance was overly present in his tone of voice that sounded a lot farther away than before. She grinned. She really didn’t care about his mood swings. Everything was going to be just fine. She was just fine. She felt just fine, peaceful, at ease.

‘Granger, breathe.’

Too much smoke, far too much smoke. Smoke is what kills you in a fire. You shouldn’t inhale it, her dazed mind reminded her. So, she stuttered that in his clothes. ‘S-s-smoke.’

‘Look at me, Hermione.’

No, she shouldn’t breathe. It wasn’t safe. Besides, she liked where she was now. She didn’t need to breathe here. It felt safe in his arms, comfortable. No need to return to reality. Reality sucked. One of those arms tightened his grip on her waist.

Nice.

She didn’t notice that his other arm let go of her, and a yelp left her lips when his now free hand yanked her head back roughly by her hair. Red orbs danced through her vision. Did he have four eyes? That wasn’t right.

His growl vibrated via his chest through her body. She closed her eyes, focusing on that unusual but pleasurable sensation. It was like all her senses were heightened.

A velvet brush of lips against hers made them feel tingly. She opened her mouth slightly with a sigh. A teasing caress of his tongue wetted her dry lips before he sucked briefly on her upper lip. It made her eager for more, and she tried tilting her head – yet the moment she did, his hand took over the movement for her and he deepened the kiss. She couldn’t recall ever being kissed like this. Heat travelled from his mouth to hers, moving down fast to her chest and onward from there, warming her entire body and most of all the cockles of her heart.

A shudder of ecstasy travelled through her body. A moan left her lips, as she responded to that delicious thing he was doing to her tongue now. Her hands slid over his lean body and wrapped around his neck before caressing his skull. A low, guttural noise erupted from deep within his throat, turning his kiss more feral. His hold on her increased, like he was trying to meld their bodies into one being, and she wrapped her dangling legs around him, trying to do the same. She could feel every line of his body pressed against hers, as he undoubtedly could feel hers, and it enhanced the intensity in which they sucked on each other’s tongue more and more.

She was unaware of her surroundings. Unaware of the dark clouds that swirled around them, obscuring them from sight, as his mark bellowed around the outside, warding the area thoroughly and making sure her magic wouldn’t escape its confinement. She was unaware of the danger she’d been in, launching all her dark magic out like that. She shouldn’t have been so ignorant to do that. He’d explicitly warned her about the risks. Lord Voldemort didn’t enjoy having to repeat himself – normally.

Still, he did enjoy feeling how her chest rose and fell against his. He’d forced her to breathe through him first, but now her responses were a clear sign that she’d started breathing normally again. The immediate threat to her life was gone.

However, he kind of liked what they were doing at the moment and she was still rather cold to the touch, so he didn’t disengage their kiss. Instead, he massaged her spine with his wandhand’s finger and thumb, shoving magic into her central nervous system directly. He could feel her body responding as he stimulated different parts of it, while he slowly moved down from the top of her spinal cord to the lowest vertebra, causing Hermione to buck against him violently.

Her ecstatic scream got muffled by his mouth, while her whole body trembled with little aftershocks of the orgasm he just gave her. Smugly, he released her lips and looked down at the little witch in his arms, wrapped around his body. Her cheeks were flushed and she panted heavily, staring at him with wide, stunned eyes. He pecked her nose with his index finger and chuckled.

‘Hot enough now?’ he teased, gently stroking the hair away from her face that stuck to her perspiring skin before combing his widespread fingers through her soft curls.

She kept staring at him with that same surprised expression, making him smirk in response.

‘How, what, why?’ she uttered, looking around confused.

His smirk broadened.

‘What happened?’ Hermione muttered to herself, releasing her legs from his waist and regaining her footing. ‘Where am I?’ she asked, looking up at him with a furrowed brow.

‘Still at the Burrow,’ he replied, his eyes glittering in anticipation of her reaction to that.

‘WHAT!’ Her fist collided hard with his upper arm. ‘How did you get in here?’ She took another swing. ‘You said you couldn’t get through those wards. You unbelievable–’

He caught her arm before she could strike him again, and then, grabbed the other one as well upon noticing its movement. While her mouth was actively bestowing all kinds of unflattering descriptions to him, he forced her arms to her back till he had both her wrists held tightly in one hand. His wand flashed, casting a non-verbal Silencing Charm.

Really, his ears were whistling from her shrieking.

However, that didn’t stop her completely since she was looking him in the eye and deliberately continued thinking what she’d been saying. And since he taught her Occlumency, he knew she didn’t need to share her thoughts. Such inappropriate language, especially since it concerned him. He shook his head. It must be the insipid redhead’s dastardly influence.

Merlin, how much longer could she go on?

From the look on her face, he estimated quite some time. Her eyes sparkled; her messy bush of hair had tufts sticking out in every direction, and her cheeks were flushed. She was positively appealing this way. Such spirit. If he could get her on his side fully, which he had no doubt he would, she’d be an amazing asset. In so many ways. And he did have her trapped in his arms now … There were lots of things he could do to that delicious little body of hers.

What are you smiling about, you lying arse?

His amusement skyrocketed. Here was this little thing; the top of her head barely reached his chin, having the nerve to call him, Lord Voldemort, names. And she knew what he was capable of. She’d felt his Cruciatus Curse before. Tough, little broad. Brave too.

Think you can fool everybody into doing your bidding? Pretending to guide me, while you’re plotting behind my back to use my powers, her mind snarled.

It seemed she’d spoken with Potter. Oh well, he had expected that.

And what was that about the power being all yours for the taking?

Okay, she was getting a bit too close to the truth. He had to find some method to distract her from this line of thinking.

I suppose you think that by fucking someone, their brains will magically stop functioning.

Ooooh, good idea. She did have excellent suggestions. After all, he was sustaining her bodily functions right now with his magic. Hers was still floating out there, stuck between barriers he erected. Well, only her dark magic was, but her nodes wouldn’t function on her light magic alone. That was a tad odd in itself. He’d never before seen someone who needed both light and dark magic to remain alive. Most people used one source.

His forehead wrinkled; he wondered if he should investigate this further but decided it could wait till later. Right now, he needed to restore some of the influence he’d had on her before. Considering her fragile position right now, that shouldn’t be too hard. He ignored how she was scolding and mocking him by using his own ideology against him and emphasising on her despicable blood status. She had no idea how dependant she was on him at this very moment.

He smirked.

She was about to find out.

Lord Voldemort concentrated, flexing his magic inside Hermione’s nodes. Tendrils of it swirled out, moving over her nerves to every cell of her body in an overwhelming rush. She blinked. Her eyes glazed over. Her mouth fell slightly ajar, as her brain shut down – focusing on the high he just placed her on.

He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, ‘You were saying … Mudblood?’

His voice, deliberately demeaning, had an unusual effect. Hermione felt herself grow wet beyond belief.

‘Of course your powers are meant to serve me, your master. You don’t really believe the likes of you can be trusted with its uses?’

Her blood pounded harder and harder in her nether regions with every word he spoke, as if his voice was magnifying the hold he had on her, forcing her to slip further and further away from all rational thoughts until all that remained was her desire. A desire for him. A desire that needed satisfaction desperately. She had to have him inside of her. She wanted him to take her in whatever way he pleased. She wanted to please him. Do anything – everything.

‘I’ve let you out of my sight for a few days and look what happens: You lose control like a common Muggle,’ he hissed, blowing his breath deliberately along the line of her neck.

She shivered. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin. The ache he placed inside her rose and rose. She tried to kiss him, but he pulled her head back roughly by her hair – not allowing her the initiative or the contact. Since he held her wrists tightly on her back, she couldn’t use her hands, yet she had other body parts available. Instinctively, Hermione pressed her lower abdomen harder against his pelvis. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt his arousal. It immediately made her rub her body against him.

A vicious, evil chuckle left his lips – a chuckle that would have made ordinary men and women run for the hills, dig a hole for themselves, and never ever get out of it again for the rest of their lives. Hermione let out a soundless moan and wrapped her legs around his body instead, not realising they were still fully clothed and this wouldn’t get her anywhere.

‘Why, Granger, you little slut,’ he sneered. ‘You want your master’s cock, don’t you?’

She couldn’t speak or nod, yet she tried to move her head anyway. Tears sprung in her eyes from the strain she put on her hair roots since he didn’t release his grip an inch. Her mind and body screamed ‘yes, yes, YES!’ at him, causing a self-satisfied smirk to appear on his snakelike face.

‘Right here,’ he spoke in a dangerously low, seductive voice, ‘at the Burrow … in front of all your … “friends”.’

Closing her eyes, her expression turned slack with a longing so overwhelming she couldn’t see straight – think straight.

‘You want … need to be conquered by Lord Voldemort,’ he continued, as his magic violently ripped her shirt to shreds. ‘Marked as mine.’ He grazed his teeth along the curve of her neck and shoulder.

Please, yes, her mind groaned.

Triumphantly, he bit her there, allowing the blood to trickle down her back and chest in small streams. His gaze intensified, watching how her white, lace bra stained red. Abruptly, he yanked her head back, pulling her upper body in a nearly impossible backwards arch.

‘Be shown to the world as mine,’ he breathed, licking the blood from her skin before words she could not understand slithered around her in smooth hisses. Magic coiled around her like a snake, capturing her even further as she begged him to continue. Audibly. He’d undone the Silencing Charm he’d placed on her.

When? She had no idea. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but the demands of her body.

Teasingly, his tongue slithered over her chest, following the contours of her bra before he tracked its lace meticulously, drawing circles around her areola not touching her there where she most wanted him to. Her frustration built and built and built, until she could not take it anymore and she knew what he was waiting for her to acknowledge again.

‘I’m yours, Master.’

It was like an explosion went of in her head and cunt when he sucked on her nipple through her blood-stained bra.

‘Yes! Oh God! Yes please, please. Please, my Lord, take me! Mark me. I’m yours. Show them,’ she begged loudly, not caring what the hell she said as long as this maddening craving got sated.

He took her breast further in his mouth and bit down, hard, leaving visible teeth marks in the process. The pain made her buck against him again. Feelings of security and pride filled her, knowing he’d marked her as his. Still, she felt empty inside, oh so empty. She needed more. She needed him. A desperate cry left her lips when her hips met his, reaffirming that her trousers and his robes were still very much in the way. Viciously, he laughed out loud and raised his head to meet her eyes.

‘Please, please, please.’

‘Hush,’ he breathed against her lips. She immediately attempted to lick his mouth, and he backed away just out of her reach, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. ‘Did I give you permission to touch me, my pet?’ he said, his eyes glittering with devilish pleasure. ‘Answer me,’ he said threateningly when she remained quiet.

‘N-no,’ Hermione stuttered, rubbing her groin against him for the friction.

He rolled his eyes. ‘So eager to be taken, so little self-control,’ he hissed in a disapproving, mocking tone.

‘I want to please you,’ she said meekly.

He roared with laughter. ‘And such a naughty, little liar too,’ he sniggered. ‘I believe your mind is focused on your pleasure, isn’t it, my pet?’

He paused, watching her thoughtfully. Hermione caught her breath, not knowing how to respond, how to make sure he’d finally fuck her. Then, magic swirled around them and she yelped when he suddenly levitated her into the air, naked, her wrist bounds by invisible shackles. Strolling casually and fully clothed around her, his long, spidery fingers trailed over her body, until he stopped at her opening.

‘I can see I have to be a responsible master and teach you whose pleasure you should value from now on,’ he said barely above a whisper, and then, he pushed his robes to the side and penetrated her brutally.

She couldn’t do anything but take his thrusts. It wasn’t making love; it was pure unadulterated sex. No emotion attached to it. He kept pounding roughly inside of her, and despite that she was wet, it was unbelievably painful every time he hit her cervix. With every thrust he made, his voice slithered around her, intoxicating her with his presence. He spoke something she couldn’t comprehend in that smooth, silky language of the snakes, coiling his magic inside and outside of her body. Her mind was stirring with conflicting thoughts and needs. She wanted him to stop, yet she wanted him to continue, to go even harder – to force her to yield and make that burning ache go away. She could feel she was nearly there. Almost. Just a little bit further.

She was on the brink of falling into that pleasurable abyss when he spilt his release inside of her and withdrew quickly with the most evil expression she’d ever seen on his face. His robes closed around his body again and he just stood there, watching her shocked reaction pleased. Her eyes widened when she realised he wasn’t going to give her what she needed and she was still horny as hell. This was going to drive her mad!

His smile broadened. ‘Yes, my pet,’ he said, patting her on the head condescendingly. ‘It’s time you learn to control your … urges and maintain a semblance of dignity if you wish me to master you.’

With a wave of his hand, she was suddenly on her feet again; her wrecked clothes reassembled and flew around her body. She staggered, and he caught her in his arms. That was something she could fully support. Quickly, she wrapped her arms around him as well.

‘Mmm… this,’ his hand closed around her bleeding throat, ‘is a bit too visible. It would be a shame to give old Dummies a heart attack when I’m not around to witness his reaction.’

Her neck turned ice-cold, then, hot again, and when he removed his hand, her neck was healed and no longer held any trace of his previous bite mark. The one on her breast remained though. A low throbbing reminded her of its presence.

‘Why doesn’t this ever hurt when you’re doing it?’ she asked, looking up at him.

‘By stating the question you’ve given the answer,’ he replied loosely.

She bit her lip. Her breast wasn’t the only thing throbbing uncomfortably and not nearly the most distracting place. Her groin was reminding her fully of what he hadn’t allowed her to experience. She didn’t think she’d ever felt this horny in her life, and it was obvious from his posture and stance, he wasn’t planning on relieving her of this ordeal. How on earth could she be around her friends like this?

‘You won’t be interested in the likes of them,’ Voldemort’s smooth voice explained. ‘It’s me you want. And …’ he paused watching her expectantly, ‘you’ll only be able to get a release when and if I give you permission.’

‘What do I need to do to get your permission?’ she asked timidly.

‘Show me you can control yourself, Hermione.’

She turned sideways, staring at the thick dark smog around them. She was utterly screwed. All she wanted to do right now was hump him. And what if he left? How would she feel then? What would she do, while in the presence of others? How would she be able to prove to him she could control herself when he wasn’t there? How long would he keep her in this state? She had so many things that needed doing. So many things she still needed to study, so many mysteries to solve – like that darkness around them.

‘Why isn’t that smoke suffocating us?’ she asked curiously with a little tremble in her voice.

‘That’s not smoke,’ he replied matter-of-factly, waving his wandhand through it to demonstrate. ‘This is magic, yours actually. You’ve shoved too much out of yourself.’ He grabbed her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to meet his intense red gaze. ‘You could have died,’ he said seriously. ‘You almost did.’

Hermione blinked, shocked. ‘I–I didn’t …’

‘–mean to,’ he finished. ‘I know. What did I tell you about using the Dark Arts?’

She bit her lip and tried to look down, but he tightened his grip on her jaw, pressing the tips of his fingers into her skin warningly.

‘Answer me, Hermione,’ he said, staring directly into her eyes. His voice barely came above the lowest whisper, yet the threat lingering in it was as clear as crystal.

‘To stay focused,’ she replied timidly.

‘And …?’

‘To not lose control.’

He turned her head to the side before gesturing at the dark cloud around them.

‘This is losing control, Granger. This doesn’t happen when someone is focused during their casting.’

‘I am sorry. I–I,’ her voice broke when she recalled what she did to the gnome.

He sighed. ‘What terrible thing did you do now besides airing out that stinking dumb?’

‘K-k-killed a gnm.’

‘Killed who?’ he snapped, frowning, while his eyes swept across the area, searching for beautiful dead Order bodies that were nowhere to be seen. Alas.

However, nothing comprehensible came from her lips. He caught her gaze and snarled, ‘I don’t have time for this. No Occlumency or I will have to practise my Unforgivables’ skills on you.’

His mouth curved when she handed him the information on a silver platter. ‘A garden gnome,’ he mocked. ‘You’re upset over a gnome.’ He snorted before laughing exuberantly.

‘It’s not funny,’ Hermione said tight-lipped.

‘Why, did you start a Gnome Liberation Front as well?’ he added, sniggering.

She narrowed her eyes, which only heightened his amusement.

‘It’s a living creature, and I killed it,’ she hissed, angry about his infuriating demeanour. It pushed away her hankering for him completely. She was really upset about this. Couldn’t he tell? Just because he killed everything that moved in sight didn’t mean she should. Shehad feelings – feelings that right now where exhibiting an overwhelming need to hit him on his non-existing nose.

He patted her on the head condescendingly. ‘Welcome to the dark side,’ he mocked. ‘We hate gnomes with a vengeance here.’ His laugh danced around her once more.

Hermione shook her head, trying to ignore those taunting laughs – to shake them away. ‘I should never have used the Dark Arts to begin with,’ she said sadly. ‘I knew it.’

‘Ever participated in turning this garden gnome-free? Because if you have, this isn’t the first gnome you killed.’

‘That doesn’t kill them,’ she replied, gritting her teeth.

Lord Voldemort sent her a pitying glance. ‘Do you really believe the “normal, authorised by the Ministry” gnome removal never causes any casualties? What would happen to you if I twirled you by your leg above my head and tossed you miles away, where you landed on a rock surface with your head? Disorientation my arse, gnomes are considered a pest by everyone, not to mention that the Creature Control Units of the Ministry kill them by the dozens. Nobody cares, Granger.’

‘I care.’

He groaned tiresomely.

‘Fine, care, be a bleeding heart,’ he spat, ‘but do it on your spare time, not on mine and definitely not while you’re casting. Now pull your shit back inside as I showed you, so I can withdraw my magic from maintaining your bodily functions. I have meetings to attend to.’

He swirled her around abruptly, until her back was pressed against his front, and then, he clasped her hands over her stomach with his. ‘You do remember how to do this?’ he sneered disparagingly. ‘Because I have better dumps to hang out than here of all the wasteyards in the world.’

She rolled her eyes. Really, drama queen.

‘Such an inspirational encouragement, I feel all warm and tingly with confidence now,’ she sneered back.

His reaction came immediately. Hermione doubled over and gulped when he pressed their hands into her stomach roughly. ‘If you don’t want to stay here,’ he threatened to her bent-over form, ‘we can finish this at my place.’

He undid the pressure and waited for her to catch her breath and rise again. ‘Here is fine,’ she said, panting.

‘Good,’ he replied with a slight upward curve of his lip. ‘Whenever you’re finally ready.’

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and her body stiffened in irritation. His fingers slid up and down over her bare arms before he placed his hands back over hers in a supporting gesture. She blinked. What was wrong with that man? One moment he’d act like a complete arse and the next he’d do something that made her feel so secure. She tilted her head back against his chest and looked up. ‘You know there is this theory about the importance of congruity between verbal and non-verbal communication. You’re always breaking it.’

‘Am I now?’ he retorted, amused. His red eyes glittered in merriment as he looked down into her brown ones.

‘Argh,’ she let out, shaking her head. ‘Why do I bother?’

‘Beats me.’

Deciding to ignore his continued teasing, since responding to it was only feeding the beast, she concentrated on the task ahead. Hermione took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relaxed her body. Focusing on her breathing, she quietly centred herself in her environment. She became aware of every beat of her heart, of the blood pulsing through her veins, of her feet standing on the soil, of every inch of her body, of the magical node pulsating in the right hemisphere of her brain, and the one pulsating just below her heart against their joined hands.

Her awareness spread beyond herself and she felt the comfort of his hands on hers and his body against her back. She could feel his magic inside of her, sustaining her as she had indeed cast out too much of her own. She also felt it swirling around them both, even though his magic wasn’t directed at the moment. He was waiting for her to try first, and she noticed he was ready in case anything went wrong. It made her feel at ease, until she felt that pendant around her neck, connecting them together. For a second, she frowned at the force of it and almost lost her concentration. Yet, he squeezed her hands slightly, making her move on.

Slowly, her senses stretched outward, searching for that familiar power of her magic. At about three inches away from their bodies, she passed a small barrier that he obviously had erected, and then, her magic was all there – contained, violent, and oppressed in too tight an area. She gasped for air. Suffocating, she was suffocating again. Panicking, she withdrew away immediately.

‘W-what happened?’ she stuttered, swaying in his arms before looking up at him, confused. She’d never felt like that before when trying to draw her magic back in.

With an impassive expression, he met her eyes. ‘You let out too much,’ he said softly, his hand sliding over her chest to the pendant. He held it out for her to see. ‘I told you this would protect you from my followers, but it also protects you from yourself. The second you lose control over your magic, it will raise a ward around you that I designed specifically for you. It will keep your magic contained around you. However, you let out so much there isn’t enough room for it all within that confinement. Hence the suppressing and suffocating sensations you’re experiencing when you come in contact with it.’

‘I see,’ she replied slowly. ‘And what else does this pendant do?’ she asked sweetly, a fake smile plastered on her face, checking his guarded eyes.

He smirked. ‘You tell me.’

‘Can we not do the stupid cat and mouse thing every time?’

He tilted his head and looked up at the sky as if he was really considering her request.

Hermione growled upon seeing his act, making him snigger.

‘Now where is the fun in that?’ he teased, letting the pendant drop and stroking the side of her face with the back of his hand.

‘Oh, a lot more fun for me,’ she retorted. But before he could respond with another taunt, she added, ‘Why can’t I take it off?’

‘Tried that already, have we?’ he said, amused.

She sighed, closing her eyes.

‘It’s safer this way,’ Voldemort continued evenly.

The tips of his fingers caressed her neck lightly as he let the cord of the necklace slid through his index and middle finger. It was such a nice tingling sensation that she hardly heard his comment about how this prevented others from forcing her to remove it by blackmail or any other means. She shook her head, trying to focus on his words instead of his actions.

‘I am the only one who can take it off at the moment. But when you’re ready, you’ll be able to do it too,’ he ended his explanation.

‘Ready for what?’ she asked, alarmed.

A small smile graced his snakelike features. ‘You’ll see,’ he answered cryptically, letting go of the necklace and placing his hand back on his other over her clasped hands, stopping that splendiferous caress of her neck to her sincere disappointment. ‘Now let’s continue where you left off. You needn’t worry about getting suffocated if you open your node and let it return to you. It will want to come back now, because I am sure your magic doesn’t appreciate being locked up. It’s, after all, your magic,’ he added, sniggering.

‘As long as you got that straight,’ Hermione said sharply, causing his irritating snigger to stop immediately and his blank expression to reappear.

‘Do I need to push it back in or are you going to?’

Inhale – exhale, count to ten. One of these days she really wouldn’t be able to not swing her fist at his face.

But today wasn’t that day. She closed her eyes and started over again. Knowing what to expect, she didn’t freak out the second time, and Lord Voldemort had been right. The second her magic realised its home front door was open, she needn’t lure it back to her as usual. It came running for the safety of her body’s nodes immediately. The impact she sustained was significant, and she was happy Voldemort was holding her upright, otherwise she was sure she would have crashed to the ground.

After a few seconds, her dark magic mingled with her light magic and her nodes began functioning normally again. In that moment, she noticed Voldemort withdrawing his magic carefully from her nodes. She held her breath, knowing if she’d done it wrong, she would be in a shipload of trouble. Fortunately, she didn’t collapse. Sighing relieved that she’d done it, Hermione opened her eyes happily.

Now that her magic had returned inside of her, it no longer obscured her view with its dark mist. She could see how his green mark bellowed around them. Hermione gasped when she pretty much noticed that every Order member stood around them. And if she could see them ...

Groaning, she wanted to vanish into thin air just like the dark cloud had vanished inside of her.

‘They can’t see us.’

Really? She touched the green “snake-cloud” with her fingertips and got a light shock. ‘Oww,’ she cried out and shook her fingers.Dammit, a double-sided ward. Arse.

‘Warned you.’

‘Excuse me?’ she objected indignantly.

‘You knew it functioned to keep your magic in as well,’ he specified. ‘Always extrapolate knowledge, dear.’

‘If I extrapolate the qualities of this ward, they should be able to see us since I can see them. Double-sided wards always act evenly.’

‘Always?’

She paused, thinking about it, but she knew she was right. ‘Yes, they have to be. You can’t dictate the power to go to one end alone, because it would destroy the balance and the entire ward would collapse.’

‘Mmm …’

‘It’s basic ward theory,’ Hermione added, folding her arms over each other.

He shrugged before stretching out his hand and waving cheerfully at the crowd. ‘Hello Dumbles! Who should I kill first?’

Hermione scowled.

‘Mmm … seems practise is beating theory here,’ he said sniggering when there was no reaction on the other side.

‘How’s that possible?’ she asked, frustrated. ‘They have to see us.’

‘Come on, Hermione, you know this. The answer is quite simple,’ he replied a tad impatient.

Confused, her eyes swept over the ward. The skull that hovered above her head and the snakes that left its mouth. She got nothing. Wait a sec. Snakes, plural! Wards! She groaned, slapping herself in the head. Two wards, of course. That would account for the difference and why she could see through it and they couldn’t see inside.

‘Exactly,’ Voldemort said, sounding satisfied.

Only now a new problem occurred to Hermione. Just because they couldn’t see her, didn’t mean they couldn’t see the outer ward.

‘Your mark …’ Hermione paused and groaned. ‘How am I going to explain that?’

‘Not my problem,’ he said coldly, making her eyes snap back to his immediately in irritation.

He smirked wickedly. ‘My problem is …’ he said, tilting his head in consideration, ‘what shall I do with such a wonderful opportunity?’ And he pointed to Potter, who stood only a few feet away at point blank range.

Hermione turned pale, until she realised who stood next to Harry and snorted. ‘Good luck battling Professor Dumbledore and all the others. Sure you want to risk him incapacitating you, while Kingsley fires a Killing Curse?’ she mocked.

‘Do you really think they are going to fire Unforgivables my way when I am holding you in my arms?’ he countered, amused.

A crack sounded, announcing the arrival of Ljudmila Volkova at the Burrow.

‘Well, this was fun,’ Voldemort said abruptly. ‘Give my regards to the wolf lady.’ He smirked knowingly and disapparated in a flash.

‘Eh!’ Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in defeat. ‘What do I do about your bloody ward? Voldemort!’

‘Ask her for the key,’ his voice echoed through her mind. ‘I know you can.’

What?

Growling, she ruffled through her hair in frustration. Was she supposed to walk around with his bleeding clouded ward around her forever?

Fine, she thought sarcastically, watching Volkova morph into her wolf form. Can I have the key?

She hadn't expected anything to happen. So, her eyes widened and she shrieked in surprise when the wolf jumped forward. Its front paws collided roughly into her chest and tossed her to the ground. White light blinded her eyes and overloaded all her senses, making her scream out in agony again as the power soared through her. A loud howl sounded above her and the light dimmed gradually, until she stared into two yellow eyes in a white wolf’s face. Blinking white, sharp teeth in a drooling mouth drew her attention before the wolf shook out its white furry coat with grey specks and licked her nose. Fluently, Volkova shifted back to human form, drawing Hermione to her feet with her.

‘She’s fine,’ she announced to the concerned faces around them. ‘He left before she call– before I entered.’

Harry tried to run to Hermione, but Dumbledore pulled him back by his collar immediately.

‘What’s that around her neck?’ Tonks asked, pointing to the glowing green pendant.

‘Wait till her necklace settles down, Harry, then you can go to her,’ Dumbledore explained kindly when Harry looked up at him confused.

Hearing Tonks’s question and Dumbledore’s words to Harry, Moody stumped to Hermione to investigate the item. He stopped at an appropriate distance and pointed his wand at the pendant. ‘That … thing holds his mark, too, Albus.’ He glanced from Dumbledore to her suspiciously. ‘Why are you wearing that, Miss Granger? What are you hiding?’

Helplessly, Hermione looked in Professor Dumbledore’s direction. She really had no idea what to say.

‘Don’t look at him,’ Moody ordered sternly. ‘Answer me, Miss Granger.’

Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a fish on land.

‘She can’t,’ Dumbledore intervened immediately.

I can’t? Oh, okay, I can certainly keep my mouth shut. That’s easy. Hermione pressed her lips together.

‘What?’ Moody snapped, turning around to Albus.

‘Why not?’ Remus added, watching Hermione concerned.

‘Let’s continue this inside, shall we, Alastor?’ Albus replied soothingly.

‘Can we allow her inside?’ he countered. ‘Who knows what she will–’

Ljudmila planted her hand on his upper arm. ‘The girl is not a threat to us, Mr. Moody,’ she said in a calming voice that danced around him. ‘Nothing bad will happen.’

He looked at her sceptically. ‘Then why are you trying to sooth me magically with your voice? What do you know that we don’t?’

Ljudmila flinched and dropped her hand. She obviously hadn’t counted on Alastor Moody picking up on her actions. Hermione had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Such typical Keeper arrogance.

Slowly, the pendant’s green light died out, and to Hermione’s horror, it accompanied the return of her longing for Lord Voldemort. Slightly uncomfortable, she shuffled on her feet, trying to take her mind of the throbbing sensation in her nether regions. Crap. This really was an inconvenient moment.

‘Come on, Alastor,’ Kingsley said in his deep voice. ‘I’m sure we can continue this conversation inside.’

‘You’re sure?’ Moody said disbelievingly. ‘Look how that pendant has suddenly turned black again, obscuring his mark from sight. She’s been wearing that thing ever since she arrived here. And Voldemort,’ – several people flinched when he spoke the name out loud – ‘was just here, meeting with her, a Muggle-born witch,’ he nodded with his head to Hermione, ‘and she’s still breathing. Do you have any other explanation than that the girl is on his side?’

Kingsley shrugged and looked to Dumbledore. ‘Apparently, Albus does. And if that doesn’t sooth you, you can look at it this way: If she is a threat, we outnumber her …’ he looked around, ‘well, a lot to one.’

‘Hermione is my friend,’ Harry interrupted, yanking himself from Dumbledore’s grasp and stepping between her and Moody, facing the others furiously. ‘Anyone who dares to hex her better be prepared to hex me too.’

‘Harry,’ Hermione said weakly, feeling incredibly guilty right now about fucking and still wanting to fuck his mortal enemy.

However, she shut her mouth when she saw Dumbledore signalling to her with his eyes to stay quiet. Her eyes fell on Ron who stood in the door opening to the kitchen, his face unusual pale – not moving an inch. He avoided eye contact with her and she felt a lot worse suddenly. Did he believe what Moody was thinking? At least Ginny was trying to get to them, she noticed the redhead struggling to get out of her mother’s tight grip. Hermione bit her lip, trying to prevent herself from crying; she wasn’t going to cry and show weakness. Oh no, she couldn’t afford too – not now. Her emotions pushed her desire away, and she could focus on the task at hand again.

Concentrate, and keep it together, Granger, she said firmly to herself. Dumbledore will fix this. Make sure you don’t add to the problems and expose the Keepers.

‘Potter, get out of the way,’ Moody said.

‘No,’ Harry said stubbornly.

‘Harry step aside,’ Remus said sharply.

Hermione felt sick to her stomach when she noticed the suspicion in his expression, knowing it was not entirely unfounded – though she hadn’t helped Him do anything to defeat the Order, she surely was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the thought of them defeating Him. Yet, she didn’t want Harry to die either. This was an impossible, rotten situation.

‘NO!’ Harry said, looking at Remus angrily. ‘She’s my friend.’

Remus shook his head; his face suddenly appeared older as if he experienced something painful again.

‘Enough of this! Nobody is going to hex anyone,’ Dumbledore said, raising his hands between them as he stepped forward as well. ‘Let’s all calm down. He’s gone. Let’s not give him the satisfaction of going for each other’s throats, shall we?’

Kingsley and Mr. Weasley nodded seriously. Several others mumbled in agreement.

‘Alastor?’ Dumbledore said, looking at him questioningly.

Moody grumbled something incomprehensible that apparently was a confirmation, because Dumbledore turned to Hermione, placed his hand on her shoulder and said, ‘Are you all right, Miss Granger?’

Hermione nodded silently, because she had to swallow the giant lump in her throat. She caught Harry’s eye; he was standing right beside her now and was smiling supportively to her. She sent him a weak smile back, and he took her hand, squeezing it softly.

No, she’d never betray Harry, never. She couldn’t. He was the best friend she ever had. He’d always been and would be there for her. Somehow, she had to find a solution to save his life – to save both their lives. Stupid prophecy. Stupid Divination.

‘Good, good,’ Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling as he watched the caring interaction between Harry and Hermione. ‘Let’s go inside and talk. This will take a while.’

As they left the rubble and went to the Burrow, Hermione was the only one who noticed the brief glance of understanding between Volkova and Dumbledore.

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The Apprentice