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Plenitude	By : HeavyMist Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 60689 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in Harry Potter belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission. I only own the plot.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
Disclaimer : The characters and canon situations in Harry Potter belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission.

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PS. Thank you hubby of mine for proofreading, beta’ing , all errors are mine, obviously;]

Thank you Sir Forest for the invaluable feedback and suggestions on chapter 28 The Dominant Creed

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

‘Flashback’

Chapter 29 : The Milky Way !

Hermione was taking a shower, and thinking of the Dark Lord’s explanations, his words and their implications! This whole Dom/sub lifestyle is cluttering her mind; there were so many things to go over! She knew sooner rather than later, she has to decide her whole future, to be his sub, or not to be his sub, that is the question!

She giggled nervously, oh Merlin! If only there were guidebooks about such things, or a 101 crash course ‘How To Be A Sub’! There are books in his library like he said. She is going to guzzle those down and find answers to this confusion in her mind, and body…and soul! However, there are more pressing matters. Damn him! He is sidetracking her and she wants to know about the war and what happened, she wants to know how he manipulated the Manipulator Dumbledore.

This Horcrux enigma is becoming an annoying milieu where many questions are festering, and pinpricking her mind irritatingly, and what Hermione Granger hates the most, and cannot leave alone, is? Unanswered questions! She needs to have her answers, and by Merlin she will! She will ask Lord I-am-the-Riddler Voldemort, and she shall make him answer her. She chuckled; well it is a good pun, if she could say so herself! Riddle, Riddler! Batman’s enemy? If he only knew what she’s calling him, she giggled again, or maybe he does?!

Snap out of it idiot! Damn! Thinking of him makes her lose track of time! Hermione Granger losing time because of a wizard! An exploit never heard of before! Well, granted not any wizard, The Dark Dominant Supreme Ruler Lord Voldemort. A sigh slipped through her lips, darn! She’s going to be late if she continues acting like a giggling stupid awestruck teen fan crushing on him, soon she would be applying for a membership in that fan-club the girls downstairs are thinking about, talk about behaving out of character! This is so not her!

Continuing her shower, the witch had difficulties switching her mind’s focus from him to more important issues, those concerning the war, Dumbledore treachery, how he killed the Potters, the Diary, the inexistent Horcruxes, the Gaunt Ring, yet all she could think about right now is him! Could she trust him? Could she believe his words? Could she trust herself to be a good judge of character? Since up until now she proved to be a lousy one, whether with Severus, or Draco, and most importantly Albus Dumbledore and his Weasleys cronies, Molly, Ron and Ginny!

She is so afraid and confused. Her fear stems from her inability to make sure he is not toying with her, lying through his pearly whites, to her face, and manipulating her. What she is sure of though, is that he never purposely lied to her. He mislead Dumbledore yes, it was his long-term strategy, consequently she became collateral damage, like many others certainly, but he sent Draco and Blaize to keep her as much safe as possible. Not to mention saving her from death and insanity; let alone releasing her magic!

Why would he do all of this if he weren’t genuinely interested in her? Besides, since she woke up from her coma, he always told her what he expected from her, who he is, what he did, though sly and manipulative, but let’s face it, he had Dumbledore to deal with! He flat-out revealed many occurrences, in which he hadn’t the positive role, not caring what she thought about his underhanded tactics and scheming strategies! He spoke bluntly of what happened, during her forced absence, and let’s not forget how even her own friends, and former “foes” and his loyal Inner Circle members talked about him and his achievements!

Sighing she finished quickly, wrapped in a fluffy towel, she went back into his bedroom to see a red summer dress, laid on the bed for her, made of a luxurious beautiful fabric. Most likely satin silk! Approaching the Haute-Couture piece, almost afraid to touch it, she looked carefully, silk double-faced Satin! She took the edge between thumb and index, feeling the textile, it was a sensory paradise for her fingertips, this was a very expensive dress, this kind of material is used for evening gowns, bridal gowns, and cocktail dresses, not an everyday summer dress!!

This is so stretching it to the ostentatious tad! He is lavishing expensive things on her, and it was not making her feel at ease, not at all! What in Merlin’s name he thinks she is? A whore that he could buy the services with baubles and dresses and jewelry! She scowled, when a flitting Idea made her frown confusedly. Didn’t he say yesterday that he was supposed to take care of ‘every single one’ of her needs? Yes he did, but she is not his sub! Yet! Damn it, this is so frustrating! She hates this tug o’ war in her mind! She needs to talk to those two b/witches, though she is loath to do so, since ‘Ron Ron’ Lavender is a flighty head, and Narcissa a pureblooded Pekinese biting bitch!

Shaking her head, she flipped the rim of the skirt, to make sure she was right about the double weaving, the textile had a luxurious heavier weight than the satin silk used for her lingerie. It is satin silk indeed, with a satin weave on both sides of the material! The only accessory found with it was a self-tie gold satin belt at the waist.

The sandals were flats, made of both the gold and red satin silk fabric, as well. Oh my freaking Isis! These two pieces alone must have cost a fortune! It was not unnoticed by the witch that these were her House colors, back at Hogwarts, she smirked while taking the parchment note left near it, from the Lord who-spends-a-fortune-on-a-dress Volde-broke. She must stop giggling! She’s sounding, more and more, like a copycat of the ever so irritating Lav-Lav!

The note read: ‘Slave, Wear only this today. Master.’ What’s with his shorter than short notes? Really?! No underwear allowed? Again?! Well, truth be told, considering her still blistering bum, she won’t be wearing anything for a whole year to come, thank you very much Lord ass-spanking-Fetishist Voldemort!

Sighing her frustration, she put on the superb, exquisite, sublime, piece of fashion-art. The fitted bodice of her strappy dress had a heart-shaped décolletage, designed to display and emphasize her cleavage, it hugged her ample bosom, the thin straps of braided gold and red satin silk, held the simple but elegant design in place, the intersection of the bodice and the extensive skirt of the dress, emphasized her wasp waist, where the satin golden sheath tied, she put on the sandals.

She did not want to think how it would have felt wearing high heels with a smarting behind on top! She was supposed to be at his office at 9:00 am, he told her she won’t be kneeling and going through her “one week punishment” or kissing his feet, because of her ‘mild indisposition’. Mild her burning arse! Yeah, she doesn’t know whose fault it is, her being “indisposed”! Thank you Merlin for small favors, at least she has a respite, at present, from all the crawling and boot licking, and other oral activities…Albeit …it was not that bad the fellatio… Hell, who is she kidding?? She will miss that one!

At 9:00 am sharp she knocked on his office door, from the corridor, as she was instructed to do. The double-door slid open with an inaudible whoosh, entering the Lord’s lair to find the breakfast feast waiting for her. He was standing, looking outside the window. She did not see him before he left the bedroom, she snoozed while he took his shower, and when she woke up, she was alone.

His dark gray slim-fit corduroys pants were topped with a pastel blue button-down shirt, and a beautiful two-button black cashmere blazer, a Deerskin black leather belt, with silver buckle, emphasized his trim waist, he had put on a new pair of black Dragonhide boots. He turned, smiling, evilly mischievous, while drinking her with his eyes; he pulled up her chair, the wooden, stiff, painful -without spanking- chair, yes that same one!

“Come in sweet slave, have a seat, breakfast is served.”

She wanted to throttle him. Now she understood why he was so thoughtful about her ‘mild indisposition’ Asshole! He was the reason for her major ailment, and he knows darn well how much it freaking hurts to sit on this chair with no cushion, on the best of days, when one is healthy, with no striped welted red booty flesh, and has not been poked deeply and thoroughly by any part of the literally pain in the ass Lord! Oh the Sadistic, cruel, vicious, nasty, horrible, wicked Asshole! Yes, and adamant on the capital A! That would teach him!

Fair Master her freaking roughly worn out butt! Sandpaper!! He freaking covered the seat where her poor poor rump is going to “rest”- in peace forever hopefully- with sandpaper! And she thought he was considerate?? She wanted to cry, weep, scream, and scratch his eyes out, wipe and knock the impish, viciously wicked, and gleefully sinister smirk off his snake-face, with a Beater's bat after he ordered silkily, ”flip over your dress-skirt slave and sit!”

Scowling at him, she turned over the back of the skirt, and slowly settled her unfortunate bottom on the stiff seat, upholstered and cushioned, with sandpaper, courtesy of a certain Dark ASSHOLE! He already pulled up her chair and was standing waiting for her to sit down. Making sure she was as “tightly” seated as possible, he kissed the top of her head, then sat on his own plush comfy leather throne.

His eyes were almost totally red, a lopsided cruelly evil grin came to life with the perverted glee radiating from his aura, tangible, like tentacles, enveloping her own tortured self, she was scared to move lest she scrapes her already exhausted flesh off her ilium bone!

Oh! The gall of this Supreme Arsehole! The manipulative mean vile bastard! He not only made her believe he was doing her a favor, by postponing this week’s kneeling and crawling punishment, oh no! This would have been too easy for him, not much of a challenge! He made her assume and believe he was kind, caring and thoughtful, while he in reality switched one bad chastisement for another, a hundred times worse!

It was more entertaining for him to see her squirm literally, rather than crawl, and kneel. Because his twisted-cruel-savage-despicable-beastly-ruthless-sick-barbarous-sadistic-fiendish-inhuman mind knew already that kneeling and crawling, in her condition of ‘mild indisposition’ would be a blessing in disguise to her! She won’t need to sit on her raw posterior, and this is not acceptable by the bastard’s book!

Trying to stifle her enraged fiery mood, and choke on her ever growing need to give him a piece of her mind, a big chunk of it actually, she ignored him totally, and his snake-y sneaky Hotness, perusing the breakfast laid on the table for them. Healthy nutritive breakfast, as usual, and her favorite! Yes Delicious croissants! She looked again at the stupid Meissen porcelain teacup set that cost him £1 million! Yes, well, look at the summer dress she’s wearing, no wonder the wizard likes to have the best of everything! A ridiculous question ensued ‘That means I am, in his eyes, the best among the witches?!’

Keep on Sticky Note, tackle issue later! She winced when she moved her hind end, the scratching registered like hundreds of bee-stings at first, not any bees mind you, killer bees! But then the stinging was exacerbated! She read about Fire ants, now she is experiencing them! They are bloody stinging ants, with over 285 species worldwide, with many evocative names like ginger ants, tropical fire ants, and red ants; the names themselves are self-explanatory really! Maybe they should add Jalapeno or chili pepper ants?

Unlike other ants, which bite and then spray acid on the wound, fire ants bite only to get a grip and next sting and inject toxic alkaloid venom. For humans, it is a painful sting, a sensation similar to when one is burned by fire. Hence the name fire ant.

She is feeling, at this precise moment, hundreds of these bloody fire ants crawling on her tush. No, not like when a limb goes numb and the flow of blood makes it tingle horribly. This is obscenely savagely worse! There’s this fire ants farm that is hyperactive on her mistreated rear end flesh!

The epidermis over the meaty muscles is like covered with these tiny hexapedes, freaking irritating burns inducing insects! Before long, and true to their nature, they are marching in systematic military precision lines, and stomping on her throbbing and itchy clitoris, trampling all over her clitoral nerves’ end as if taking the apex of her genitalia for a trampoline, stampeding and biting! Then another kind of fluttering flurry started!

No! No ! Nononono! No Godric’s Mercy, please NO!

Hermione true to her character tried to shift her focus, by perusing her cerebral library, alas it was to no avail, her picky memory going into-logically-the crux of the matter. Ever heard of the largest butterfly in the world?? It is the female Queen Alexandra Birdwing butterfly, or aka, in the entomology/insectology jargon, the Ornithoptera alexandrae. It lives in New Guinea, -or it was supposed to, until this moment!-

It has a wingspan up to 12 1/2 inches, approximately 32 centimeters! Seems those butterflies migrated and emigrated from said native land to her abdomen!

Her stomach was quavering! The damn flutterings of hundreds of those large wings, occupying her midriff, were transferring tremulous flicks, brushes, grazes, light touches, from the inside of her stomach which couldn’t be more cramped! But that is not the worst part, not on her life!

Seems those damned hexapedes decided her body was as much of a good place to colonize as any! By an anatomical anomaly, the fluttering wings glided from her stomach and took hold of her vagina! The muscled walls in there started to resonate with the bloody buzzing wings, as if there was a vibrator lodged inside her, and from there to her spinal column, going up and down, one vertebra at a time, in a maddeningly lascivious fashion!

It depends though on how her brains interpret all of these burning, stinging, itching, fluttering, tingling, brushing, flicking, crawling, grazing, skimming, ghosting, prickling overload stimuli. Like hell it is not the end of her torture! Breathless now and sweating, all over, she feels all of those aforementioned exacerbating, inciting and rousing sensations, collectively and simultaneously! And there you have it! ‘This is me Hermione Granger while sitting on the damned sandpaper, because of one Master’s masterminded body and mind fuckery!’

The Master Asshole’s all knowing, perceptive look, and ferocious sardonic leer were adding Insult to injury, twisting the knife, sprinkling salt in the gaping raw wound, of her tattered body, shredded dignity and ragged brain. And that was not the ultimate, absolute, worst Finale, by any stretch of the imagination, of course not! That is Master for you!

The Rain Season! The wet season, monsoon season! Hermione Granger extreme Humiliation season! Curtains close, Standing Ovation!

She knew she was wriggling about on her seat, squeezing her thighs, trying to not make a mess beneath her, but the clinching of her thighs made here antsy clitoris condition worse, and while fidgeting, though in small jerks, twitches, and jolts, her clitoral nerves stimulation was zooming up to her nipples, which were now turgid and aching for a hard twist and rough pinching! Combined with the natural lubricants flowing out of her overexcited nether lips, the sandpaper had become so clammy and sticky by now, that the effect on her already sore derriere was like showering flames with gasoline!

The burn aggravated all of those sensations again and again which in turn made her arousal worse, and the vicious circle continued spiraling out of bounds, she was about to climax, there and then, when she heard him whisper wickedly lecherous, darkly and salaciously cruel, his eyes two red-hued sparkling rubies, with fiendishly voracious ardor, “Don’t you dare cum without my permission slave!” he intoned, his voice an embodiment of an inhuman animalistic licentious craze.

He was right about her masochistic predisposition. He wanted to be sure, thus this small test, to see if she was going to feel excited, aroused and ready to climax, because of the abrasion inflicted on her already sore, cute, round, and sexy as hell ass! He knew it was highly painful test and very cruel of him to add the scratching of the sandpaper on top of all the lesions she sustained last evening. But then again, that is the fun part about it all. He likes to inflict severe pain on her and in return receive pleasure for both. Thus far he was right, he anticipated exactly this reaction from his little painslut trainee. A wickedly licentious and sinisterly shameless libidinous chortle added to his threatening, decadently evil, sarcastic smirk.

He already knew she wouldn’t be disappointing him; failure is her Boggart, she so deserves an Outstanding mark on her excellent test result. She was not whining and asking him to take pity on her. Yes! She was squirming, and almost thrashing and about as ready to cum, as any experienced painslut would, not to mention that her humiliation is adding to her arousal, though she is unaware of the fact. So, his pet gets off on sensual humiliation as well. His kind of slave every fucking day! Salazar’s saggy balls! He is one lucky son of a bitch bastard! Severus is going to have a heart attack when he hears of this.

He must work on enhancing her pleasure through humiliation as well, combined with her pain tolerance, but for this, he should tread cautiously and delicately, especially after the disastrous undermining those cock-suckers Weasleys have done following the poof Dumbledore directions. Merlin knows he wishes to revive him and shove a broomstick up his ass, again!

By Salazar if she does not surrender to him soon, and accept being his slave, he’s going to tie her to his bed in the playroom, for a week, and fuck her raw until she abdicates, damn it! He wants to paint her beautiful skin red, and feel the welts rise under the loving strokes of his bullwhip, canes, dragon-tails, hear her screams, cries and moans with every whiplash, fingering her pussy and find her juices leaking as an answer to the pain he’s inflicting, since she knows she is pleasing him.

‘Don’t cum…don’t cum…he will know…oh Merlin! Pleaaaase….’ The sensually tortured witch wasn’t able to eat; she was in an excruciatingly atrocious kind of pain, centered in her thrumming clitoris, contracting vagina muscles, stiff itching nipples, and smoldering posterior!

Her chair all of a sudden was turned from the table, she looked dazed to see the Dark Lord squatting before her, flipping over the front part of her skirt and with both hands on her ankles, he forced her legs to spread wide, shoving his face betwixt her thighs, his tongue licked from her weeping virginal opening to the pulsating rigid and unhooded clitoris, then he mumbled “Cum for Master slave” tongue and lips slurping at her natural lubricants. And she was a goner! She was toasted! Her ‘Master’ ear-splitting yell was hollering her climax to high heaven.

No, no stars, or constellations, or supernovae, or colors, and that entire rainbow or blinding white or black, not even sepia! It was one sparked conflagration, that shot from her clitoris to her brain and back and it kept on going, or rather coming! She was hearing, moans, whimpers, gasps and Master then sobs, and sighs, and Master again, while feeling his raspy tongue drinking her, like a man dehydrated and found his oasis after months in Death Valley!

Coming down from her high, she looked at him with still dazed, dilated eyes, when he stood up, held her head between his big hands, and invaded her mouth voraciously and roughly. It was more like a collision of lips, his mouth wet, hers dry from her screaming, and as fast as it came, his kiss ended. He was trying to control his hastened and rushed breathing, moving back to his chair, he rumbled, “Go refresh yourself slave”. With trembling legs, she found her way to the adjacent bathroom, that she used previously, and in similar circumstance.

When she went out, The Dark Lord was as cool as a cucumber, sitting behind his desk. What made her heart jump were seven stacked thick black Leatherbound journals, positioned at exactly the front right corner of his desk. Her journals.

Without raising his head from what he was occupied with, mainly typing on his weird wizard computer, he commented, “these are your original journals slave, not those plagiarized by the …Weasley” He was about to say whore, but stopped since he knew she would be more or less bothered with the slur.

“You can sit down, go through them, you can take them back, of course they are yours to keep, but I want you to go through the last one, and have a second look at your Lycanthropy Potion Remedy, you are going to be working on this project again pet.”

The witch was shocked! In her 6th year at Hogwarts, her extra-curricular project was about finding a remedy for Lycanthropy. Because she loved Remus like a big brother and wanted to ease his suffering. She knew since 3^rd year from his Boggart, a full moon, how he felt about his sickness.

She presented the Research Parchment to Professor Snape who had to admit that her work was of high quality, and feasible if given the right Lab, ingredients and resources. She gave a copy of her paper to Albus Dumbledore for the Wizengamot’s assessment, along with the approval of the Ministry, so that she could start the testing phase, and she heard nothing about it since.

While staying at the Order’s headquarters she Asked Remus Lupin for a sample of his blood and saliva, before the full moon and worked with the available and meager materials and means she had. But she discontinued her tests, when she left with Harry and Ron, to hunt for Horcruxes. Leaving behind her papers and journals, books and possessions, at 12 Grimmauld place, only taking with her, the Beaded handbag and what the trio needed.

Hermione was near tears; her life work was conserved, kept intact! Her written memories, even several of her poetic dribbles were in there, a short “diary” if she can use the term loosely, namely highlights and cherished moments at best, given that she did not write a diary per se, she simply scribbled them there, when she felt like it, nothing chronological, as in continuous memoirs.

But as far as she was concerned, the most important of all in there, were her studies, research, and some spells and potions projects she was creating, like the Lycanthropy remedy. She thought everything was destroyed, or stolen from the Order’s quarters, after she woke up, she thought all those 7 years were for naught!

Choked by the emotion, she only could whisper “Thank you”, her eyes already moistening; she rubbed both, trying to keep her meltdown at bay. She felt like a mother, who after having her baby kidnapped and lost to her, against all odds, child and mother were reunited in a surprising turn of events. She was grateful, more grateful than having her life or brain saved, because those journals contained the greatest part of her life, the best she created, worked for and produced through the years, they were her babies!

With shaking hands she lifted them, heavy they were, but she just wanted to hug them, cradle them to her heart, and smell the peculiarly exquisite scent of old tanned leather, and ink, tinged with a bit of stale parchment. Heaven! She wasn’t aware of the fleeting satisfied and pleased smile, which played on her Master’s features looking at her, before looking back to his magical pc screen.

She sat on one of the couches, put the stack on the coffee table and took the one on the top, and plunged in her Hogwarts years, her dreams, her verbal diarrhea, several silly things she wrote, made her sometimes smile, or even chuckle, while warm bitter sweet tears trickled down her cheeks.

She noticed, while going through all of these journals, stopping to read this page or that paragraph, most of her happy memories were with Harry and her Parents. She detected very few were about Ron or the summers she spent at the Burrow, or even the Order. There were also entries about Draco and Zabini, and much rumination about Ron, Ginny and Molly disparaging and rude attitude, in the last months before leaving with Harry!

In hindsight, and reading her own writing and thoughts, she was realizing how she subconsciously knew, and even put it in words, now and then, that some things were weird and even right down suspicious and illogical, like Dumbledore’s attitude about saving Sirius, his cryptic information of the Horcruxes, the Weasleys’ two youngest shameful behavior, and ….Her crush on Severus Snape!!

Flushing, smiling awkwardly while reading about her “fascination” with the spy, she went to the 4^th year journal and perused the pages because she knew she wrote some nonsense about her crush in there.

‘Oh my! This is so cheesy! Urghhh… How much of a dolt he must have thought I am…Oh Merlin …I wrote this!!! About Snape?!! Godric Shaved balls! And…The Dark Lord must have read this load of bull. …shit shit shit….Kill me now…He must be thinking I am a total imbecile!!!’

‘Isn’t that sweet …Hmm…let’s see. …Juicy Snape … My ripe, dark berry of a grape! Really missy?! How old were you then, like… five? Such inane text! A waste of parchment!’ Her evil-twin was sitting in her old potions classroom, eating red grapes while adding some to the cauldron in front her, a parchment entitled Snape’s Love Potion, was set in a clear legible way for her to see.

‘Oh shut it, it was just a crush, I was over that Greasy Bat ages ago’

‘Hah! So he’s greasy bat now? Let’s finish your lame poetry then, shall we?

A sad end to juicy Snape, he’s now a shriveled grape…

Hence became the “milky way”, your pet flavor nowadays …

But what do I know, why should I rave

He’s your Master, to call you slave’

A big photo of the Milky Way galaxy, held between Lord Voldemort hands, precisely in front of his crotch, appeared behind the scoffing know-it-all.

‘You know what? I am starting to believe you are jealous!’ Hermione was fed up with the voice of reason inside her head which was denying her a few… well…well deserved and long overdue orgasms, damn it! She snapped the journal shut; imagining a miniature k-i-a smashed to razor thin, flat image, between the pages,

She took Her 6^th year journal flipped through and reached the Lycanthropy potion remedy, she smiled remembering all of the ingredients, the hours of hard work, books and research, the tests, and Remus Lupin providing her with his blood, and saliva swab.

What Happened to Remus? No One told her, well she did not ask, but she hopes he is alive, and Tonks!

She looked at the Dark Lord still typing away on his “keyboard” then cleared her throat, noisily to attract his attention, make him look up so that she could initiate a conversation, but either he purposely ignored her, and she wouldn’t put it past him doing exactly that, or he was so focused he was not paying attention to her at all, which she could not believe because the Wizard has a knack of knowing exactly what she wants or needs without her saying so, at all times!

She coughed in higher pitch, still no reaction from him, Lord I-am-a busy-sexy…. urghhh…. what the hell??! She should wash her mouth and brain with soap, Merlin! She is a masochist, still coming back for more! The Asshole humiliated her not 15 minutes ago!!

‘Since when do I think of him as sexy?

‘Since you tasted his Lordship milk and honey?? Slave’ her double-trouble very high-pitched and shrill voice, came to her mind, while a parchment thin k-i-a look alike was trying to extract herself from between the journals’ papers.

Dismissing the annoying little ‘Devangel’ and trying not to laugh out loud at the flattened k-i-a voice which sounded like she inhaled 10 balloons of helium before spewing her lectures, with a Donald Duck’s squeaky voice effect. She continued her train of thought ‘…and after all he did to me? Jerk! Repeat…. Lord I-am-a-busy-Jerrrk Voldemort is ignoring me on purpose! Lord Voldemort has incomparable tongue skills for cunnilingus…Urghhh! ’

“Excuse me for interrupting you sir?” She was moving towards his desk so that to make sure he would see her, not only hear her. She stopped in front of him, stood there for five minutes and still he ignored her! Fuming she thought of tapping her right hand fingernails on the glass top, knowing it is going to either irritate the heck out of him – a bonus if you ask her- and make him pay attention to her, or disrupt his focus leading to the same result, pay attention to her. But then she felt how sore her butts’ remains are, and dismissed the unwise and detrimental idea for her posterior. Raising his head slowly, after what seemed like ages for the waiting witch, an arched brow less eyebrow summing up his ‘what do you want? Can’t you see I am busy?

Hermione fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her bent head starting to lift up, she looked at him then said,” Since you told me I will be working again on the Lycanthropy Remedy Potion, I wanted to ask about Remus Lupin, and Tonks, what happened to them?”

A smile started to settle on his features, he relaxed in his chair which tilted backward, hands behind his head, legs stretched and crossed at the ankle, he replied smirking “ I was wondering when you were going to ask about these two”

“ Well, I am asking now sir” Hermione felt like standing in front of a school’s headmaster, despite his smile, there was always this aura of reliable and confident authority about the wizard, an enthralling dominance, and charisma mixed with an intimidating allure! That’s how paradoxical the wizard is! Even when in relax-mode!

“Want to see for yourself?” He asked smiling impishly at her, as if knowing what’s passing through her mind concerning him.

“Now? I can go see Remus and Tonks? Where? Do I need someone to take me there? Are they here? Which floor. Can I go….” As usual once she starts asking questions, Hermione tries to cover all possibilities, doing so at a fast rate. He chuckled, shaking his head, stood up while answering, “yes, yes, no not here, yes, no, come with me”

He flicked his wand and in the empty wall, facing the sitting area, near the secret door that leads to his lodgings, another door opened giving way to a Distributor, similar to Snape’s. An elevator cubicle, thick silver gray industrial carpet lined its floor.

The booth walls were made of metallic substance with mirror like reflection surface, the only difference is that The Dark Lord’s one has a squared mirror-thin screen which he tapped, a map of the British Isles was displayed, he tapped twice next on the map, a fast zoom-in motion locked on a point in the north of Great Britain, Scotland to be exact, then the screen went silver, 5 seconds later, the door opened, and both stood out, Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes, or where she was!

LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++LV++HG++
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Plenitude

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