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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.

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Good evening! New chapter for all of my wonderful readers! I hope you like it. And for all of you who are worried this story will be abandoned, you can rest peacefully tonight. I have just finished the story! All it need is some spell-checking from my wonderful new beta Ankoku Dezaia and myself. I'll also need to make sure I haven't forgotten anything... and there will be 34 chapter.

Review answers!

Jessie; I’m glad you like it! Hope you’ll think this chapter is worth the wait as well.

Nicky123; Yes, they are really acting more like an old couple, all that nagging and stuff. Glad you like it!

Heidi191976; Glad you like it! Yep, now they have the Cup! But they can’t use it just yet… Hope you’ll like this chapter!

Extraho; Yes, she certainly is. If someone tries to sit on her, she will bite, hehe.

Marieve; Haha, Hermione would get a heart attack if she heard you. Screw school work? Tsk, tsk. Hope you don’t have any school work tonight… or that you at least can take a break (I have always thought they were important!). Enjoy the chapter!

Enjoy!

Chapter 28

Voldemort awoke slowly. He felt safe, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. If ever. Someone was embracing him from behind. No one had ever done that before, he was sure of it. He was not the kind of person you snuggled with in your sleep. He was…

He was…

He… he didn’t remember who he was. He didn’t remember!

“Ouch!” someone said.

He didn’t realise he had kicked that someone who was embracing him. He sat up and stared down at her. Yes, a her. His wife. Hermione. They had a son. Dmitri. He remembered that.

Hermione was looking at him with a frown. “Voldemort? You seem terrified, has something happened?”

Voldemort. Yes, it all came back to him now. Lord Voldemort. That was who he was. The Dark Lord. He-who-must-not-be-named. He-who-killed-people-just-because-he-could. The safe and content feeling he had woken up with disappeared. He was never safe and never content. He always wanted more.

“No,” he said harshly. “I just… for a moment I didn’t remember... it’s nothing.”

She was still frowning, but she nodded slowly. “And how are you are feeling? I did the best I could on your shoulder, but…”

“My shoulder?” He looked down at his chest and saw a freshly healed wound on his left side. He stared at it for a couple of moments. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, surprised.

He just glared at her.

“You were shot,” she said slowly. “We went to get my mother from the Ministry of Germany and you decided to steal the Cup. There was a fight and you were shot.”

The memories came back to him. They were vague, but still there. “Did we manage to receive your mother?” He had to know. He was very embarrassed over the fact that he couldn’t remember, but he needed to know.

“Yes, she is sleeping in the room next door.” Hermione placed a hand on his. “How are you, really?”

He pushed her hand away. “Why do you always have to ask questions?” he roared. “You never shut up! You are like a fucking parrot!”

She was hurt. He could see it in her eyes. He didn’t care, he was scared. Why couldn’t he remember what had happened? Something must have happened, something bad. He felt confused and angry. These things didn’t happen to him. He was the Dark Lord! He was powerful!

“Perhaps it happened when I healed you,” she said in a low voice. “You were dying. It takes a lot of power to heal something like that. Maybe the trauma has affected your memory.”

Voldemort took a couple of deep breaths. If he just relaxed, the memories would probably come back to him. They couldn’t be gone, just repressed.

“I should check on Dmitri,” Hermione mumbled. She was sad, he had hurt her again.

“Hermione, I…” He couldn’t apologise. Not with words, it was not his thing. Instead, he took a hold of her wrist and pulled her to him. He kissed her, uncertain and questioning at first, until she sighed and opened her mouth for him.

Since she was still naked, he could caress her body freely. He lay her down with her head at the end of the bed. It didn’t take them long to work up the arousal. She kissed him passionately and he realised that she must have been scared as well. He could feel her whole body relax as he pushed into her and she moaned softly. Voldemort held back a gasp, he liked this, it was nice. Hermione met his every stroke and he stimulated her clit with his fingers. They were both getting closer to climax. He shifted his angle a little, and when he did, he opened his eyes.

His eyes widened when he saw someone standing at the door. A middle-aged woman who resembled the one lying under him. She stared at them with wide eyes.

The memories of the night before rushed back to him. How they had found Rose Granger and the Cup. How he had been shot and how Hermione had saved his life.

The woman at the door, Rose, snapped out of her shock and quickly turned away from the room. Voldemort didn’t have time to think more about it because his wife, who had continued to move under him, reached her climax and managed to pull him over the edge as well. He collapsed on top of her.

“That was intense,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he mumbled. He could feel her heartbeats next to his.

They lay there for what seemed like forever. Then, their baby started to scream. They both groaned and Voldemort finally rolled off her. As they stood, Voldemort took his wand to clean himself. Nothing happened. He tried again and felt a small pulse of magic run through him and out of his wand. It wasn’t enough to clean him.

Hermione, who had seen his failure, cleaned them both.

“You probably just need a couple of days to recover,” she said and came up to him.

Voldemort didn’t become angry, although he felt very embarrassed. Hermione, his twenty-year-old wife, had just cleaned him like he was some cripple. Salazar, if his Death Eaters found out… not that they ever would.

He sighed and shook off his depressed thoughts. At least he could feel his magic. He only needed to recover, just like she said.

“I’ll prepare some food,” he muttered. “Will you take care of Dmitri?”

“Yes, I think he is hungry anyway.” She smiled at him. He got the feeling she felt sorry for him.

Annoyed, he stalked off to the kitchen. Merlin, what was wrong with him? He still felt a little like he was asleep. The sex had been soothing and almost felt unreal. Although, he knew it had been real because when he opened the door to the kitchen, he found Rose Granger. Her face turned red when she saw him.

“Tom,” she said, looking very uncomfortable. “I thought I would make some breakfast.”

He nodded slowly, not certain what he should do so he just sat down next to the big kitchen table. “Please, be my guest. I’ll just-”

“I didn’t mean to snoop,” she interrupted him. “I heard upset voices and… I was afraid…”

Voldemort suddenly wondered what exactly had happened to Rose. She had probably been tortured, perhaps even raped. Of course she would be scared if she thought her daughter was being hurt.

“Rose,” he said softly. “I would never hurt Hermione.” Well, not so much. “I was annoyed because of my injury and I let it go out on her. I’m afraid I have a bit of a temper in the morning.” Or a lot of temper all day long. “What you saw was simply my way of apologising.”

Rose smiled sadly. “You must love each other very much.”

Voldemort just smiled back. He didn’t want to lie about that. Besides, it was hard being nice all the time so perhaps it was best if he just shut up. This Muggle would soon be out of his life and it would be much easier to get rid of her if she didn’t think Hermione was in any danger.

“Do you want fried eggs?” Rose asked, trying to sound cheerful.

“Yes, I would like that very much,” Voldemort answered honestly.

Hermione chose that moment to enter the room with Dmitri in her arms. She stopped for a moment and just watched as her mother fried the eggs. She seemed both sad and happy at the same time. Voldemort had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. It irked him.

“Oh, hello Hermione,” Rose said and smiled a bit uncomfortably. “Do you want an egg as well?”

“Uhm, yes please,” Hermione said before she sank down on the chair next to Voldemort. “This place is beautiful.”

“Yes, Rodolphus always knew how to decorate a house,” Voldemort said and looked around in the kitchen. The walls were white with different painting on them. They all showed some flower in Muggle-style. Rodolphus had been an artist in many ways. Otherwise, the kitchen was big with all the necessary equipment. Lolly had filled the storeroom with food as well.

“Isn’t this place yours?” Rose asked as she sat down with the eggs.

Voldemort realised how hungry he was.

“No,” Hermione answered. “We live in a small apartment. Vol- Tom wants to be close to work.”

“What do you do, then?” Rose asked her daughter and began to eat slowly.

“Nothing yet, we married when I was fresh out from school and when I became pregnant… well, I figured I could find a job once Dmitri was a bit older,” Hermione said nonchalantly. Voldemort was impressed by how easy she lied to her mother.

“That seems very much unlike you,” Rose said with a frown. “You said to me several times that you had no time for boys because you wanted to have a career first.”

Hermione seemed a bit uncomfortable. “Well, things changed. When I met Tom I just knew we would be together forever.”

That was true at least. They had both known there was no way out of the Contract when they met the first time, or at least they had thought so.

“How did you meet?” Rose asked and looked at Voldemort. “You couldn’t have been in school together.”

“Mum!” Hermione said, embarrassed. “Age doesn’t matter the same way here as in the Muggle world. We live much longer.”

Voldemort smiled. “Besides, Hermione has been gifted with quite an extraordinary intellect. Not many people can keep up with her.”

Rose smiled at that. “And I assume you can?”

Voldemort snorted. “I believe it will take some time before she reaches my level.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“But how did you meet?” Rose asked again.

Voldemort and Hermione exchanged a look.

“Well, we bumped into each other a couple of times. At the Ministry, in Hogsmeade and other common places. I knew it was something special about her the moment I saw her.”

Hermione smirked at him. “You weren’t very nice at first. You were demonstrating how spectacular you were with magic at the Ministry.”

Voldemort smirked back. “And you and your friends ruined the whole show. However, it made me realise that I needed improvement.” He turned to Rose again. “I knew she was in Hogwarts so I went to Hogsmeade, the village next to it. I had realised that she was very clever and I wanted her opinion on a project I was working on.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, one thing led to another and before I know it, I couldn’t see a future without him!”

“Neither could I,” he mumbled and took her hand in what he hoped would look like a husband-in-love-gesture.

Rose still seemed a bit suspicious, but in the end she sighed. “That is sweet. I wish I could have been there for the ceremony. Do you have any pictures?”

He could feel how Hermione froze.

“The ceremony wasn’t big,” he said and turned to Rose. “Perhaps it was a bit impulsive. It was wartime, you don’t know how long you have left and you want to make the most of it. We didn’t hire a photographer, but I’ll see if I can find some photos from a ball we went to a couple of months later.”

Rose smiled. “I’d be glad to see them.”

xxx

The days flew by and Hermione spent most of them reconnecting with her mother. It was hard since Hermione didn’t like to lie and hard because Rose would sometimes would stop talking and just stare out in empty space. She was thinking about her capturing. Hermione hadn’t asked her anything about it, mostly because she was afraid of the answer. If it had happened to any other person, Hermione would have been curious. However, it had happened to her mother and Hermione didn’t think she would be able to handle the truth. Not yet, anyway.

Voldemort seemed to avoid Rose. He was always away during the day and would come home late and leave just after breakfast. Hermione didn’t know what he was doing because he never gave her an opportunity to talk. Instead, she seemed to have become like a drug to him. Every time they were alone, his hands were upon her. Even with her ability to see his thought and emotions, she was confused. All he was thinking about was her and the feeling he felt was lust mixed with obsession and possession. The feelings were so strong it infected her to feel the same thing about him. Their meeting became a struggle for dominance. It was a fight he usually won and he frequently took out his victory by riding her through climax after climax. It was not a bad way of loosing, but it made her feel confused. Why did he feel this way?

He hadn’t asked her about how she seemed to know what he was feeling, even if he had threatened to ask her about it the night they had saved her mother. She thought he had forgotten about it. Which was strange all by itself. Voldemort wasn’t the kind of person who just forgot about such important things. Although she had to say she was relieved. That was a conversation she didn’t look forward to have. She knew Voldemort well enough to know that he wouldn’t appreciate her knew ability.

On the day of Dmitri’s third month anniversary, Hermione decided to bake a cake. She hadn’t really celebrated her son’s birth and she thought now would be a good time to celebrate. It was only the third of May, but the sun was shining and the house had a wonderful terrace so Hermione and Rose decided to eat the cake outside. Dmitri was sitting on a blanket while the two women relaxed in the loungers. The terrace was placed next to a small lake which was surrounded by trees. Hermione would never know how someone like Rodolphus Lestrange would get the idea to build such a beautiful house in this beautiful environment. It was simply perfect.

“Do you remember when we rented that small house in France, just next to the ocean when you were four?” Rose asked with a slightly nostalgic voice.

Hermione smiled at the memory. “Yes, dad taught me how to swim that year.”

Rose chuckled. “That wasn’t swimming, honey. We still had to help you keep your head over the water.”

Hermione laughed. This was what they usually talked about; old memories. Somehow, Rose seemed to realise that Hermione didn’t want to talk about her new life.

“What is that?” Rose suddenly asked and pointed towards the sky.

Hermione looked up and spotted something black coming toward them from the north. She drew her wand, uncertain if it was a friend or a foe. She didn’t have many friends left, but surely a foe would have disguised himself better? When he came closer, Hermione saw that it was a man on a broom. She lowered her wand when she recognised him as Max.

“Hello, ladies!” Max said and jumped off his broom right next to the baby.

“Max!” Hermione said, slightly surprised, but still happy to see him. “What brings you here?”

“Well, this was my uncle’s house. My father realised he had forgotten some things here and as the faithful son I am, I offered to fetch them for him,” Max said with a charming smile.

Hermione smiled back. “Is that all? You just came here to get the things? So I guess I shouldn’t offer you any cake, then?”

Max’s eyes became, if possible, even brighter. “Cake? What kind of cake?”

“Chocolate,” Hermione answered and laughed at the childlike happiness in his face. She conjured up a third plate, and in the meantime Max introduced himself to Rose.

“You must be Hermione’s mother,” Max said and held out his hand. “I’m Max Lestrange.”

“Rose Granger,” Rose said and took his hand with a smile.

Hermione handed Max the plate and he started to eat like he hadn’t seen food in days. He reminded her of Ron and her heart ached a little.

“This is awesome, Hermione,” Max said and licked his lips. “You are, without a doubt, the best chef ever!”

Hermione simply smiled.

“How do you two know each other,” Rose asked curiously. “I don’t think you have ever told me about someone named Max. Or is he that Bulgarian boy who took you to that ball?”

“No mum, that was Viktor Krum. Max and I met at a feast last fall. I had a bit of a make-up accident and Max was kind enough to help me,” Hermione said with a smile.

Max eyes had widened during her explanation. “You went to a ball with Viktor Krum? The Viktor Krum?”

Hermione laughed. “Yes, he is very friendly. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen him in years. Do you like Quidditch?”

“It’s hard not to when you work with the Weasley twins,” Max said and shrugged. “I just never realised you had such an appetite for famous men.”

Hermione glanced at her mother who only seemed amused.

“Famous men?” Rose asked. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not because they are famous that I like them,” Hermione mumbled. “Besides, it has only been Viktor and my husband.”

“Well, and then there was Harry Potter,” Max remarked carelessly. “I always thought that was why the Da-”

“Max,” Hermione interrupted him. She didn’t want her mother to know anything about Voldemort. “Harry and I were never an item. We were only friends.”

Max frowned, but nodded slowly. “Okay, sorry. I just… perhaps you should help me find those things?”

“Yes,” Hermione stood. “Is it okay if you watch the boy for a while mum?”

Rose nodded and leaned back in the lounger. “You can give me all the time in the world to cuddle with my grandson.”

Hermione followed Max inside and to one of the spare bedrooms. It didn’t seem to be occupied but when Max opened the closet Hermione saw a couple of robes hanging there.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Max said in a low voice. “I know you and Potter were only friends. I was just teasing.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that,” Hermione quickly assured. “Although, I am a bit tired of hearing about Harry and I being an item.”

Max seemed relieved.

Hermione smiled at him. “The reason why I interrupted is because my mum doesn’t know about Voldemort. She just thinks he is some high-level wizard. A Lord, like the ones in the Muggle would. I don’t want her to know that her daughter is married to… you know.” She didn’t know what to call Voldemort. Nonetheless, Max seemed to understand.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, I promise,” he said with a smile. He picked something up from a drawer in the closet. “There it is.”

Hermione came closer and saw that it was a camera. “What is that?”

“My father’s favourite camera. Smile!” Hermione didn’t have time to smile before he had snapped a photo. She blinked.

“That’s it?” she asked.

Max shrank the camera and put it inside his robe. When he withdrew the hand, he was holding a simple white envelope in his hand. “Not really. You see, I got an owl around a week ago. It is from Reya Radcliff.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. After she had come back from her imprisoning, things had been so confusing. She had known Snape was dead, so she thought Reya just needed some time alone. Hermione had sent her a letter, but hadn’t received any reply. Maybe Voldemort had taken it?

“She didn’t think the letter would pass your husband’s censor, so she sent it to me instead,” Max handed her the letter. “I hope you won’t tell the Dark Lord I gave it to you. He would probably torture me.”

Hermione noticed that the envelope was addressed to Max and that it had already been opened. She removed the letter and began to read.

Dear Max

Please give this to Hermione. I know the Dark Lord will just burn it if I send it directly to her but I want her to know what happened. I know you will read her part of the letter anyway, so let me make it easy for you and say that it’s okay. I don’t care if you read!

Reya.

When Hermione turned the paper, she noticed that it was a Muggle paper. Why was Reya writing on Muggle paper? The answer appeared in the letter.

Dear Hermione

When you read this, I’m probably on the other side of the planet. Your lovely husband said that he would kill me if I didn’t leave Great Britain within the hour. I have heard about a werewolf tribe in Australia and I think I will join them. They live more like animals than humans and I don’t wish to continue to be human anymore. You see, I killed Severus. I know he would have died anyway and I didn’t want your husband to torture and humiliate him even more. So I killed him. I killed the man I loved.

I miss him more than I can explain and I can only hope that I’ll meet him again in the next life. Until then, I have decided to give in to my animal side. I’m sorry that I have to leave you, but it’s not like I can see you anyway. Not with the Dark Lord around and I know you won’t leave him.

Merlin… I don’t know how to finish this letter. It will probably be the last letter I ever write. You would know how to finish it, wouldn’t you? You are good with these things. But what I want to say is; don’t try to find me and don’t be sad. It’s nothing wrong with being a werewolf; it’s just the transformation that sucks. I will drink the potion that will forever turn me into a wolf and leave my human life behind. Please don’t cry.

With love.

Reya

Hermione did cry. She couldn’t help it. She could see that Reya’s hand had trembled when she wrote this and the text was a bit smeared out here and there, probably from tears. Hermione didn’t know why she cried. Perhaps it was because her friend had been sad and she hadn’t been able to be there. Or perhaps it was because the Reya she knew was gone now, forever. Hermione would never know if she was happy.

She had sunken down on the floor and Max was hugging her. Hermione cried against his shoulder as he whispered soothing words in her ear. After a while, she finally managed to stop crying. Max still held her and Hermione let herself relax into his arms. It was so different from Voldemort’s embraces. He hugged her because he wanted her. Max hugged her because he wanted to make her feel better. Max hugged her like a true friend, like Harry and Ron had hugged her. It made her calm down.

“I can’t believe she is gone,” Hermione whispered. “I can’t believe I didn’t know sooner.”

“You have had quite a lot to think about,” Max murmured into her hair. “With your mother and son. And the Dark Lord, of course.”

Hermione started to cry again. “Why does he have to destroy everything? Reya and Snape were lonely for so long. When they finally find each other, he destroys it! How can he do that?”

“I won’t say I understand the Dark Lord,” Max whispered. “But I don’t think he really cares about it.”

Hermione lifted her head and looked into Max’s deep blue eyes. “Sometimes I don’t think he cares about anything.”

Max eyes fell down to her lips, he was breathing a little faster. When he looked into her eyes again, they were a bit foggy. Hermione could feel her heart speed up. Surely he wasn’t going to…? Yes, he was. Max leaned in and kissed her. A soft, careful kiss. Questioning. Hermione was shocked. She hadn’t known Max felt this way about her. Sure, he had teased her and flirted with her, but to actually kiss her?

When she didn’t try to push him away, Max deepened the kiss. His hands came up in her hair and his tongue entered her mouth. Now, Hermione reacted. She pushed him away.

“Max! I’m married!” she said a bit angry.

Max was blushing furiously. However, before he had time to apologize, someone else spoke up.

“Took you long enough to remember.”
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The Contract