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The Dragon Chronicles	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 55728 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from this.

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
- 29
Another long break between chapters. Life is too hectic right now (but exciting!). My debut novel will be released in just five weeks time! Tomorrow a reporter will come home to me to make an spread about me, I have to finish my summery of the book and take a professional photography (which means pre-appointment to a make-up artist to try out make up). Then there is the release party! Woho! I have booked a place to be and sent out the invites, but I still have everything else to do there.
So anyway, big contract to release this chapter which I do feel that I have to put up a WARNING over. It's dark and disturbing and all kind of torture-warnings. So basically Voldemort being Voldemort.
Enjoy!
Chapter 27
She waited until nightfall, when she was certain he wouldn’t be coming back. One of his dragons, the female one, had stayed behind, but according to Kara, she was playing by the Black lake.
Hermione snuck out towards the graveyard where Dumbledore was buried. If anyone saw her, she could pretend that she was paying her respect to her former Headmaster.
The air was wet and cold, making her wish she had put something on to cover her ears against the wind. Every season she was always too late with putting on some ear-muffs. Shouldn’t her bushy hair be good for something and protect her ears from the cold? No her locks stubbornly flew all over her face in the wind as she walked.
Finally, at the tomb, close to the edge of the forest, she put down the transfigured daisies she had brought with her. Dumbledore’s portrait had said that it had been his favourite.
“Dobby,” Hermione whispered into the night after standing there in silence for maybe half a minute.
It was also a way to make this look as non-conspicuous as possible in case someone saw. She was just here to pay her respect and then a House-elf appeared with some news of some happening in the kitchen. All in a day’s work as Headmistress, nothing regime-overthrowing about it.
“Headmistress!” the little elf piped, pulling at his ear, possibly to cover them from the wind. “Mister Harry have been so worried!”
“I’m fine,” Hermione assured him. “Tell Harry and Ron to go to Charlie and—”
“Mister Harry is already there!” Dobby interrupted her with a wide smile. “Mister Harry have been working with dragon experts for a month, because of the Dark Lord’s new allies.”
“Good,” she said, relief spreading through her body. “That’s good. But listen, Dobby, the Dark Lord has a whole herd of dragons now, he has become a Mother. Charlie will know what it means. All Order members must be—”
The crash of a heavy body hitting the ground right behind to her made her jump. She spun around and saw to her horror Voldemort sliding off the back of his dragon.
She glanced at Dobby, needing him to leave right now, but once more, she realised she wasn’t the only one with half a brain. Dobby was already disappearing with a pop! leaving a small cloud of magic behind him.
She turned her attention back to her husband just in time for him to grab her by the throat, pushing her back against the grave. She let out a yelp of pain when her back crashed into the stone. It was probably just the first of a lot of bruises.
“I gave you Hogwarts because you promised to stay out of the war,” Voldemort growled, his face very close to hers. “Instead, I find that you have used the kitchen staff to send messages to Potter? Crucio!”
She screamed, losing control of her body as the pain blazed through her. She would have fallen if he hadn’t held her in such tight grip against the grave.
“Do you think the Order will find it an acceptable loss when they see your mauled body spread over the gates of Hogwarts?” he continued over her screams. “Or will Potter come running, swearing to avenge you, recklessly throwing himself right at my feet?”
He finally let go of the curse and threw her to the ground. The air was knocked out from her lungs, but she was feeling strangely at peace. She could die now. Harry knew everything he needed to know. McGonagall would spin her death as a reason as to why Voldemort and his dragons were a danger to the school and the children.
She didn’t want to die, of course, but unlike the first time she thought she would met death by Voldemort’s hand, this time she was certain that everything would be okay without her. Her friends would win.
He cast the Cruciatus Curse over her again, and she screamed into the night. It didn’t look as if she would be getting a quick death, but it didn’t matter. It would be over sooner or later.
It was hard to tell time when every bone in her body felt as if it were breaking into a million pieces, and every nerve ending was on fire at the same time as her blood was boiling in her veins. Therefore, she didn’t know if it had been hours or mere minutes when it suddenly ended.
She could feel Kara’s presence close by, panicking over what was happening to her. She sent him a reassuring thought, showing him that she was okay with her fate. He would follow her into death, and she did feel guilty about that, but she knew that he didn’t regret bonding with her any more than she did. They had fought together and they would go down together.
Her eyes were closed, for how long, she didn’t know. She didn’t seem to be able to open them. Or perhaps she had gone blind altogether and the darkness around her was just a sign of her dying.
She could hear Voldemort, though. He was still close by, muttering. She couldn’t make out the words anymore. Perhaps he was speaking quietly, or perhaps she was simply just turning deaf as well as blind.
When she felt a hand on her chest, she tried shrugging away, but found that she couldn’t move either. There was no restraint, she just didn’t seem to be able to move her body at all.
“No, you will not die tonight.” His voice was coming close to her ear, but her brain seemed to be processing them a lot slower than normal. “I still have one plan left for you. But make no mistake, you will regret this, Hermione.”
Finally, the darkness that had been at the edge of her mind overtook her, sweeping her away from reality. She wasn’t dead. And that was not good.
xxx
Voldemort watched his sleeping wife, her bruised body covered by the blue sheets. He had known that she would betray him the first opportunity she got. He wasn’t surprised. But he was furious that he didn’t know how long she had got away with it, or how much information she had given her friends.
Well, she wouldn’t be telling anyone anything else about him, he had made sure of that. He leaned forward, stroking the dark red scar on her throat. A visible reminder of the curse he had decided to cast on her. She wouldn’t be able to speak to anyone but him ever again.
She could still write, of course, but he was confident that she wouldn’t make the mistake to write anything that would be damaging for him. She did, after all, need some way of communication if she were to manage as Headmistress.
Not that he would leave her alone for quite some time. No, she needed to be reminded of whom she answered to.
As his thumb stroke her throat, she started to stir, letting out small groans of pain. He withdrew his hand and leaned back in the chair he had put next to the bed.
“I’m alive,” she whispered, surprise evident in her voice.
“Necrophilia never did seem alluring to me,” he answered dryly.
She turned her head, and winced, her hand moving up to her throat. Yes, he imagined that the scar was still stinging quite a bit.
“What have you done to me?” she asked, stroking the scar with her fingertips, fear in her eyes.
“Have you read about chief Ottewa’s Curse?” he asked.
She slowly shook her head.
“He fell in love with the man who had the most beautiful voice in the world. But chief Ottewa was a jealous man, and when he found that his lover had been sleeping with other people, he created a curse that would keep his lover from seducing others with his song. The curse made sure only Ottewa could hear his lover sing. Needless to say, his lover remained faithful after that.”
Hermione stared at him, eyes wide in horror. “No, please, tell me you didn’t—”
“How else would I make sure you didn’t spill my secrets?” Voldemort said softly, leaning forward again, stroking her cheek. “When you came to me, you swore that you would stay neutral in the war. You already went back on your word once by contacting Potter through your dragon. At that time, you said it would not happen again. I didn’t quite believe you, of course, but I decided to give you a chance. You forfeited that chance.”
“So why didn’t you just kill me?” Hermione asked hoarsely, tears starting to spill from her eyes.
He stroked them away with his fingertips. “Didn’t I already say that I still have use of you?”
“If you really think that I’ll keep fucking you after this, you are more deluded than I thought,” she spat.
“You and I both know that you won’t be able to stay away for long,” he chuckled. “And it isn’t the only thing you are good for.”
He turned and retrieved a bottle of pain relief potion from the nightstand.
“Here, you should get some more sleep. I will tell McGonagall that you won’t be coming to work until I deem you ready,” he said.
To his surprise, she took the bottle and swallowed the content without comments. Was she so unworried about what else he could do to her that she wasn’t even checking for potions? Perhaps she thought he had already done his worst.
How little she knew him.
The potion worked quickly though, and he saw her body relax and her eyelids fall shut. As her breathing grew slower, he rose from the chair, leaving the room.
The sun had yet to rise this first day of December, but it was almost time for breakfast regardless. He wanted to find McGonagall before she left for the Great Hall. She would speak with the other teachers that Hermione would be out of commission for a few days.
When he was halfway to her office, he met her. She stiffened at once when she saw him, her back straightening even more than usual, her lips pressed tightly together.
“Good morning Minerva,” he greeted her smoothly.
“What do you want?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t hostile, but she was in no way attempting to be pleasant. She wanted him gone as soon as possible.
“Let us take this in your office,” he said, gesturing for her to lead the way back.
She regarded him for a moment, then nodded and turned around, walking in a fast pace.
Neither attempted to do small talk on the short distance to her office and it suited him just fine. What would they even talk about? They were still enemies, but she knew that she couldn’t challenge him, and he let her live because she was a very competent teacher.
She unlocked her office door with a flick of her wand and stepped inside before him, walking to her desk where she turned around again, crossing her arms, waiting for him to talk.
He let the door fall shut behind him before taking in her office. He had never bothered to come here before, and he could see that it was just as well. Like McGonagall, the office was decorated with professionality in focus. She had reference books standing behind her desk, her personal collection probably in her private chambers. There were wooden chairs standing next to the fireplace, which could be pulled up if she needed to lecture a student, and a brown sofa with a small table in front of it for a more comfortable working position.
The only personal touch was a few landscape paintings, featuring scenery from around Scotland, close to where she had grown up. He knew, because he had been there in search of a hiding place of the Order.
“Well?” McGonagall said when she finally lost patience.
“Hermione will not be working for a few days,” he said, turning his attention back to her, wanting to see how she took the news. “She has been given information to the Order and I had to make sure she will never do something so foolish again.”
As he had expected, McGonagall looked shocked, her hand flying up to her mouth, her eyes widening. But he couldn't see guilt, just horror in her eyes.
“What did you do to her?” she whispered.
“Naturally, I had to take certain precautions,” he said, savouring the fear radiating from her. “The only way she will ever talk again will be through me. So, I expect you to tell the other teachers to not bother us for a while. You must take over whatever issues the Headmistress might have had to deal with in the mean—”
“I want to see her,” McGonagall interrupted him.
“No,” Voldemort said, annoyed over being interrupted. “She will not see anyone until I say so.”
McGonagall puffed up her chest, her eyes narrowing. “Now see here, you made Hermione the Headmistress and as long as she remains so, we as faculty members has to be able to talk to each other.”
Voldemort was rapidly growing tired of her insubordination. Why had the whole world suddenly started to act like they didn’t need to just take his orders?
“Yes, I made Hermione Headmistress and I am the one she answers to. Which means that if there is something you are too incompetent to deal with yourself, you will come to me. As for speaking, Hermione will never again do that to anyone but me. That is her punishment. If you do not wish to join her, you will simply leave and relay this to your colleagues. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes,” McGonagall said, but she wouldn’t look down. She was furious, but at least she didn’t question him again.
He held her gaze for a few more seconds until he was certain she wouldn’t try anything else and then he turned and left. He would have to watch her more closely as well. He seemed to have a rebellion underway.
xxx
Hermione stared out through the window over her bed, watching as the sun moved over the sky. She really should get up and do … something, but her body was sore and her mind was clouded with potions. If she went up, life would come crashing down on her, and she much preferred to just stay exactly where she was.
Something big flew over the sky, making her blink.
Kara came into view, his big wings slowly moving up and down, keeping him in her view of sight.
Hermione? He asked, his mental tone showing her how worried he was.
Kara, she said, sighing. He found out.
I could feel it, Kara winced. What have he done to you? There is dark magic over you.
He did something to stop me from talking to anyone. I haven’t tried it though.
You are talking now, Kara reminded her.
Oh, Hermione realised. Right. I should be able to talk telepathically with the ones I need to talk to. And he wouldn’t find out.
Kara flew closer to the window, his exhaling against the glass, creating steam against the cold surface.
We will kill him. And his dragons.
Hermione felt love flush through her body. She closed her eyes, inhaling Kara’s essence to remind her that she wasn’t alone, no matter what Voldemort did to her.
And Harry and the Order will come and help, she said.
They stayed like that for a moment, their minds entwined, just comforting each other.
“Send away your dragon,” Voldemort ordered, harshly breaking through their connection.
Kara growled, but flew away over the forest to hunt for dinner.
Hermione opened her eyes, watching Voldemort come towards her, throwing his cloak over the armchair.
“You are back,” she sneered. “I hoped you’d get lost and drown in a forgotten swimming pool.”
“You would be very bored if something where to happen to me, dear. You wouldn’t have been able to nag to anymore,” Voldemort purred, coming down to sit next to her on the bed.
She moved as far away from him as possible, turning back to look out the window again.
“How did it go with Minerva?” she asked coldly.
“I made her see reason,” Voldemort replied. “Look at me. I would loath to have to torture you again so soon. You still have a ritual to go through and I will need you to be stronger for that.”
Hermione looked at him, eyebrows arched. “You said we would do the ritual for my protection, but it is pretty clear now that the most dangerous thing for my health is you. If you really think that I—”
“I want you to stand by your promises to me, I do not want to see you dead,” he interrupted her. “You swore to stay out of the war, you cannot fault me for punishing you when I catch you red-handed.”
“Yes, but it’s pretty clear that we will not do this ritual for my benefit. You get something out from it. I’m just not sure what,” Hermione spat back.
“That is neither here nor there,” he said, though a smirk lingered on his face. “I asked if you would rather stay locked up inside Hogwarts for the rest of your life. You choose to do the ritual instead.”
“To be able to do my job!”
Voldemort snorted. “Don’t take me for a fool, Hermione. You have ulterior motives to want to be able to leave Hogwarts. You are not nearly as secretive as you think you are.”
That part of Hermione that always wanted to show how cleaver she was longed to tell him everything she had got away with. But she had been working on shutting down that impulse for years now, and thus, she managed to bite her tongue. Instead, she huffed, and turned towards the window again.
“How are you feeling?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“Like I’ve been viciously tortured by a megalomaniac,” she muttered.
“I will draw you a bath with some potions in it. It will help.”
“No thanks.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he said, voice hard as he rose from the bed.
It might be very childish, but Hermione stuck out her tongue at his back.
When he came out a few minutes later, she didn’t argue, because her body was sore and she wouldn’t mind easing it up. She had to be ready, after all. She didn’t know when Harry would show up, ready to face him, but she would be damned if she was still lying in bed, hurting at that time.
“I can walk,” she argued when Voldemort took her arm, helping her towards the bathroom.
“We wouldn’t want you to fall,” he replied, his grip tightening.
She realised he wasn’t helping her because she was weak. This was yet another display of power. Why would she ever believe he wanted to do anything for any other reason?
Yet, when he tried to help her off with her clothes, she slapped his hands away.
“I rather live in celibacy than have you touch me again,” she hissed.
Voldemort smiled down at her, condescendingly, but pretended to surrender, taking a step away from her.
She turned her back towards him, undressing as quickly as her aching limbs would let her before stepping into the hot water in the tub.
At once, some of the tension disappear and she moaned out loud in pleasure as the water infused her muscles. It was as if her body had been tied in hard knots and the water was releasing the knots through vibrations.
“Pretty good potion, wouldn’t you say?” Voldemort asked smugly.
Hermione ignored him, her eyes closed, her head resting against the edge of the tub. Therefore, she didn’t see him fold up the sleeve on his robe and stick his hand into the water.
The potion was stroking her body so that first, she didn’t feel the difference between it and Voldemort’s hand on her thigh. Not until it reached in between her legs.
Her eyes flew open, but she found that she could no longer move her body. Either the water or Voldemort had done something that made her limbs soft and relaxed.
“No,” she whimpered, her heart speeding up in her chest.
“Are you sure?” Voldemort asked in a low voice, his fingers circling her labia.
“Please,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She couldn’t stand it right now.
It was not that she thought he would hurt her more, no, it was the opposite. She was certain he would make her feel really good and she couldn’t stand him doing something like that this soon after him torturing her. She knew he could do whatever he wanted with her body, but she couldn’t stand being proven that. Not right now. Not so soon afterwards.
Voldemort withdrew his hand, but he was smiling. He knew what she was thinking, she was certain of it. He too knew that he could do what he wanted with her body and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. This was just another way to remind her how utterly fucked she was.
“Let me know if you need anything,” he purred and kissed her forehead.
She closed her eyes again. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stand the sight of him. She didn’t want to see how victorious he was.
- 27
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The Dragon Chronicles