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Death Row	By : SalazarRaphael Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 9044 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from this fic.

Chapter List
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“Guilty.” There were gasps all around the packed courtroom as Voldemort said the word. Even the Wizengamot looked stunned.

            “Do I hear you correctly, sir? You plead guilty to the charges of murder, inciting unrest, treason, attempted murder, unlawful imprisonment, assault, assault with a deadly weapon, sexual assault, rape, and bribery?”

            “Yes. Well, except the attempted murders. Everyone I intended to kill was killed. The only one that escaped was Harry Potter. So really it should only be one count of attempted murder. My state of mind comes into play, doesn’t it? If I didn’t intend to murder I don’t see how it could be attempted murder.”

            “I must reiterate that you should seek counsel.”

            “That would be quite pointless. I am perfectly aware that all of Wizarding kind in England wishes me dead. I have only this to say- killing never made me feel better, even when it was the pedophile priest who’d tried to assault me as a young boy. Killing me now will do nothing to make anyone here feel any better either. You won’t feel any more secure than you do now; I’ve shown that your neighbors are not always who they say they are. I’ve shown that the people that most delight in inflicting pain and committing murders are often the most elite amongst us. And I’ve also shown that the Ministry of Magic is incompetent at the very best, and beyond repair at its worst. Those things won’t change with my demise, no matter how the politicians say otherwise.

            But I have done crimes, and they deserve to be punished. I have committed 13 murders by my own hand. I have never permitted rape in my organization. If a death eater did rape, they were punished and often killed for it. It was an understood rule that rape is never permissible as a weapon of war. Those that committed it knew they would be punished, and the judgment of how harshly was always another death eater. Some of the men were castrated, others had their penises completely amputated…or they were killed. It was not my decision.

            I know full well that I will never walk in the sun again, and that my death is imminent because Harry Potter wishes it so. But I would merely point out that revenge for the death of his parents is a foolhardy reason to kill a man. By that logic, I should have murdered my Uncle Morfin for killing my father. Or my father for causing the death of my mother. I did neither. By that logic, I did the world a favor by killing Severus Snape for killing Dumbledore. An eye for an eye has always, and will always, leave the whole world blind.”

            Hermione watched him make his speech. He was so calm, as though he knew this was the end and no longer cared. This was the same man that just yesterday she had kissed for the first time. She focused when the Chief Justice spoke, “It is the opinion of this court that your crimes are vast, your remorse lacking, and your power uncontrollable. Keeping you caged forever would be pointless. You have committed more crimes against humanity, Voldemort, than some dictators. Your plea of guilty is accepted, and you are hereby sentenced to death.”

            Hermione felt her heart sink. Death? She’d known it was likely, but that wasn’t what upset her. It was the cheering coming from behind her. The crowd cheered as he was sentenced to die. What was wrong with people? “I have one request,” Voldemort said. “I have had a visitor, over the past weeks. I want this individual to continue to visit me until my execution.”

            “That is acceptable.”

            Hermione was led to a different room the next day when she visited him. They were left alone; her wand had been confiscated when she entered. It was like a sparse apartment: a coffee table, a bed, a couch. The only thing he was missing was a kitchen. He smiled when he saw her, “Hermione, come in.”

            “They cheered…they actually cheered.”

            “The difference between a death eater and a mob of ‘good’ people is simply that these ‘good’,” he again used air quotations around ‘good’, “people think that they are on the side of right for doing something that those they view as evil would do in a heartbeat, but only they have ‘good’ reason. I never thought murder had a good reason.”

            “Why did you ask me to come here still?’

            “I want you to do something for me.”

            “What?”

            “Write a book. Write a book about me, my past, everything we’ve talked about. I’ll give you any memory you want. Just please, do this for me.”

            She thought about it, letting him pull her to the couch. They sat down and he patiently waited for her answer. Write a book about Voldemort? She certainly knew him well. “What do I get in exchange?”

            “The money it makes.”

            “Voldemort, no one is going to want to read about you.”

            “I am a powerful wizard, whether good or evil. That cannot be disputed. I am quite possibly the most powerful wizard alive. Potter won by a fluke, nothing more. Please, Hermione.” He now was holding both her hands. Hermione finally nodded. She could do that. “Thank you.”

            “On one condition.”

            “What?”

            “I want you to be my first,” she whispered. “Ever since that kiss I’ve-” she was cut off as his tongue entered her mouth. Hermione moaned and held him close to her, savoring the feel of his strong chest and arms holding onto her while his tongue plundered her mouth.

            “I would be honored to take that responsibility,” he whispered when they separated to breathe.

            “Thank you,” she smiled. “But I don’t want to be named as the author of the book. I just…I will publish it anonymously as a ‘Source Close to Voldemort’. Otherwise I’ll be attacked for just knowing you.”

            “That’s true.”

            “Where did the Aurors go?”

            “They’re gone. I’m now in the custody of house elves, who are all quite nice. This is a much better death row than before.”

            “So my identity…”

            “Is unknown to all save me,” he caressed her cheek, “we have only one problem.”

            “What?”

            “I have no contraception to stop you from getting pregnant.”

            “You’re going to die, Voldemort. If I get pregnant, I would be honored to have your child.”

            “Well the Dark Arts are supposed to make you infertile…we should be safe,” he leaned in and kissed her again, holding her against him.

            They snogged for over an hour before he picked her up and carried her to the bed. They undressed one another slowly until he was nude and she was down to her underwear. He was already erect. Hermione looked at his penis, “Not as scary as I expected it to be.”

            “Or as small?”

            “Not all the men who want to control the world have small penises.”

            “I certainly don’t,” he smirked, leaning in to kiss her again, “I will take good care of you, Hermione.”

            “I don’t doubt that,” she whispered, holding his head gently, “Will it hurt?”

            “A bit. If I could cast a spell to prevent your pain, I would,” he caressed her cheek gently and Hermione saw the pain in his eyes that he would be hurting her before giving her pleasure. He really cared for her.

            “Tell me how to give you head.”

            “My little lioness,” he growled, “so determined. That is a wonderful trait to have,” he proceeded to instruct her, though he didn’t have to. Hermione quickly figured it out and even began experimenting on him to see what he liked. When he felt an orgasm approaching he pulled her away and pushed her onto her back, giving her oral to prepare her. She moaned as he went down on her. He drove her to an orgasm before moving back up her body to kiss her, “You are so sexy, so perfect,” he whispered.

            “You want me?”

            “Badly,” he nodded, leaning in to kiss her again. Hermione moaned into his mouth, now suddenly desperate to have the man she knew better than anyone inside of her. Voldemort settled between her legs, letting his penis rub her clitoris. Hermione moaned again and the older man gently slid into her, eager to not actually hurt her in any way. Hermione closed her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her. He stilled and kissed her face gently, “I’m sorry Hermione.”

            “Make it feel better, Voldemort. Please,” she whispered, tears escaping her eyes. Obediently he waited until she felt a little better. Then he made long, slow strokes. He could see her relax underneath him as he moved, causing him to sigh as he started to speed it up.

            Hermione was shocked by how good he felt. She hadn’t expected him to feel so good after how much pain it had caused her when he’d first entered her. Feeling him thrust against her, she was glad she had chosen him. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him. She clenched down on him and he groaned. He sounded so good when he would groan while thrusting into her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he began to suck on her neck, his hands moving to her breasts.

            When she climaxed he came as well and they collapsed against one another. He closed his eyes, panting. Her hands moved over his torso, “I love you,” she whispered.

            He lifted his head, staring at her. He smiled and they kissed again, gently. The couple kissed for a bit before he shifted, “Stay here tonight, Hermione. I want to hold you.” She smiled and nodded, cuddling against him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him.

            The next morning found them waking to see house elves bringing in breakfast for them both. He got up and gave her his t-shirt to wear. He slid on his boxers and they sat down to eat. “Are you still sore?”

            “A little,” she nodded. He looked very guilty when she said that. She squeezed his hand, “I enjoyed last night, Voldemort. I wouldn’t say no if you wanted it again.”

            He smiled in response and she smiled at him. As they ate they discussed the book. Afterwards they showered and Hermione kissed him goodbye, promising to return later.
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Death Row