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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.

Chapter List
- 30
- 31
- 32
Happy Friday! New chapter and I hope you’ll like it! Not many left now… only two. Wow!

Atrumnex; Here you go!

Darkheartgirls; Perhaps you’ll find out what he is thinking in this chapter! Please enjoy!

Cosette.x; Haha, yes, maybe he has to be nice… poor man. Although, don’t you think he will be able to find a way? Tihi…

Extraho; Hehe, yeah, maybe a little. But he is quite good at un-mess things, won’t you say?

Heidi191976; Hm… you won’t read anything else about them… although, I think they are fine. Or as fine as they can be…

Ginnylovesharry07; Haha, yes, poor Emma. I’m glad you liked the chapter!

MegNutz; Maybe you are right! Haha, you’ll find out in later chapters! Glad you liked the chapter so much!

Enjoy and beware of the smut!

Chapter 31

Voldemort felt like crying. He had finally found a way to gain immortality only to realise he could never do what it takes. This had to be what Dumbledore had talked about. The old Headmaster had read this book and realised that Voldemort would never ever trust anyone enough to drink from the Cup of Death. All hard work for nothing.

Unless… he looked down at his wife who was looking at him with a worried expression. Could he wish for her to bring him back to life? No, the moment he died she would be free from the Contract and his wishes would be for naught. A compromise then? He did trust his wife, somewhat. She was the only one he could actually relax with. Although, to bring him back to life? He knew he hadn’t done anything to her to deserve that.

“Hermione,” he began.

She interrupted him. “No.”

“But…,” he tried again.

“No, don’t ever ask me to do it,” she said with narrowed eyes. “I couldn’t do that to the world.”

To the world? Voldemort blinked. Could she do it for her own sake then?

“If I promise not to take control over the world?” he asked. After all, being immortal had always been his highest priority. Everything else, he could live without as long as he actually lived!

Hermione just shook her head. “Voldemort, I don’t really think you have realised this yet but you have to die first. Do you really think you could kill yourself? That is the reason why you want to live forever, isn’t it? You are afraid to die.”

Oh, right, that was true. No, he hadn’t really thought about that. Now when he did, he actually started to hyperventilate. Kill himself? He couldn’t… no… never, not him, not die, no-no-no-no-no.

Hermione tried to calm him down. She hugged and shushed him like he was their son. With an iron-will, he forced himself to calm down. He wouldn’t think about it. There had to be another way. Perhaps if he let someone else try it first so he knew it worked? Yes, then he wouldn’t actually die, he would only stop breathing for just a second. It would be like sleeping and when he woke up, he would be immortal. Yes that would work but first he had to make sure it actually worked. He had to make someone else drink from the Cup of Death and then bring that person back to life. Then, he could force that person to drink from the Cup of Death again so Voldemort would be the only immortal one. Or he could let that person live for a while. Yes, it didn’t matter so much now. Now, he had to find the Cup of Death. He already had the Cup of Life and had made some small tests to make sure it worked, just simple things like making trees grow in the desert.

As he started to relax, he leaned against Hermione. What did she think of all this? He wished he was able to see into her thoughts just like she could see his.

“I don’t know if I’d be relieved or not,” Hermione confessed as an answer to his thoughts.

He scowled at her. He didn’t want her to see his thoughts! Regaining his self control, he straightened.

“Oh, sorry,” Hermione mumbled and let go of him. “I thought you… never mind.”

Voldemort stood up from the bed and walked over to the sofa where his clothes still lay. “I want to find the Cup of Death.”

Hermione looked up, surprised. Obviously, she hadn’t heard that part of the plan from his mind. Good.

“But I thought…,”

Voldemort interrupted her. “I’ll find a way. Right now, we will find the second Cup. Any idea where it can be?”

“I haven’t found any evidences of its existence since the eighteenth century, when it was seen in the Northern lands.” She sighed. “Perhaps it’s still there. Or…”

“What?” he asked eagerly.

“Well, don’t you get the feeling sometimes that the Cups seem to have a will of its own? I mean, they have travelled all over the world, but now they are back here… close to where it was created. What if the Cup let Grindelwald find it so it could come closer to home?” Hermione asked.

Voldemort sighed. “I don’t think we will ever know. Perhaps we were just lucky to find it when we did.”

“Or perhaps it wanted to reward you for doing a nice things, saving my mum and all,” she suggested and stroked his arm.

Voldemort rose from the bed. “Perhaps. Will you order some dinner?”

“Lolly?” she called and the House-Elf popped in. “Could you bring us some dinner, please? A fish dish with potatoes, I think.”

Lolly nodded and bowed before she left again.

“I don’t know why you are so polite to them,” Voldemort mocked as he dressed.

Hermione shrugged. “My parents raised me to have manners.”

“I see. Are you going to raise our son the same way?” he asked and went over to the bookshelf. He had an idea on how to find the last Cup.

“I will try,” Hermione answered matter-of-factly.

The House-Elf came back with the dinner and Hermione sat down to eat. Voldemort took three books with him before he sank down on the sofa to eat as well.

“What are you looking for?” Hermione asked and took a piece of fish in her mouth.

“I was just thinking… the Cups aren’t older than 3000 years. It would take a lot of magic to make them. Hence, it should be magical energy left were it was made. I’ll try to find a place where people have found old magical energy in the ‘Northern lands’. There shouldn’t be too many places,” he explained and opened the book.

Hermione frowned. “You believe the Cup of Death has returned to where it was made?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to look. Perhaps we will find some clues.”

As they ate, they scanned their books, looking for places in the north with magical energy. They had decided to look at everything north of Hadrian’s Wall and a bit into Asia, to begin with. Strangely enough, they found quite many old places, but no stories about an old magical energy.

“This is useless,” Hermione said after some hours of reading. “In one book, they say there is a lot of magical energy, in the next there isn’t any at all!”

Voldemort looked up at her. She seemed tried. “I can continue alone if you want to go to bed.”

Hermione sank back in the sofa. “What time is it?”

Voldemort looked at his pocket watch. “Three o’clock in the morning.”

She sighed. “Then we should both go to bed.”

He looked at the pile of books they still had left. Perhaps one of them contained the knowledge they were after. They couldn’t just leave it!

Hermione seemed to know what he was thinking (even if she wasn’t touching him), because she said; “They will still be there in the morning Voldemort. Come on.”

She took his hand and dragged him over to the bed. Voldemort was tired, too tired to object, but his mind was still on the books. Hermione waved her wand and they were both undressed. She pushed him into bed and pulled the covers over them.

“We haven’t brushed our teeth,” Voldemort said and made an attempt to rise.

Hermione held him down by putting her head and hand over him. “I know what you are trying to do, Voldemort. You need your sleep. Otherwise you will be all cranky and kill everyone who annoys you tomorrow and I can’t have that.”

“But…”

Hermione waved her wand again and the lights went out. “No, the books will be there in the morning. Sleep with me.”

“Mother hen,” Voldemort mumbled under his breath.

“I heard that,” Hermione mumbled back. “Now, if you don’t sleep, I’ll spank you!”

Voldemort smirk. “I believe it is the other way around, dear.”

“Whatever. Sleep.”

Chuckling quietly, he closed his eyes and sleep soon claimed him. The last thing he felt was Hermione’s hand on his chest and how good it felt. The row from the morning was completely forgotten.

xxx

Hermione woke up before her husband. Sometime during the night, she had placed her leg over his stomach and now she could feel something hard against her knee. She couldn’t resist a chuckle. Feeling a bit naughty, she slowly pulled her feet over the inside of his thigh. Voldemort let out a sigh, but didn’t wake. Her smile widened, this could be a fun way to wake him up.

She moved her leg a little so she could reach his cock with her hand. It didn’t take long for her to make it fully erect. When that was done, she straddled him and moved his cock into her wetness. Voldemort started to wake up, and although he didn’t open his eye, she could see a smile starting to spread over his face. She slowly started to ride him as she massaged her clit.

His hands came up on her legs and he helped her move faster. It didn’t take more then three or four minutes before they both lay gasping in each others arms.

“Good morning,” Hermione mumbled and kissed him.

“Good morning, indeed,” Voldemort mumbled back and finally opened his eyes. “Someone was horny since yesterday.”

She smirked and stroked his cheek. “Well, I have never met anyone who shared my love for knowledge. You have to admit that it is arousing.”

Voldemort smiled. “Indeed it is.”

Hermione cuddled into her husband for a while and he let her do it. Although, a moment later, he mumbled something about the bathroom and disappeared. Hermione rolled over to her back and stretched. They had a lot of books to read today. And they had to get back to Dmitri and Rose.

“Are you going to lie there all day?” Voldemort asked when he came back. “It’s almost nine o’clock.”

Hermione sighed. “I’m working on it. Although, when I used to spend my summer with my parents, I could sit up and read all night and then sleep until one in the afternoon.”

He seemed surprised. “Really? They didn’t wake you up?”

She shook her head. “No, they said something about that was what teenagers did. Didn’t you sleep long when you were young?”

Voldemort huffed and sat down on the bed next to her. He was only wearing a bathrobe and Hermione was once again hit by the fact how sexy her husband was.

“No, I can’t say I ever had the chance to sleep past eight when I was a teenager. Although, there was a period when I was thirty and living in Egypt. I would sleep in the day instead of the night. I did it for almost a year,” he said and crossed his legs.

Hermione sat up and let the blanket sink down to her waist. “How come?”

Voldemort glanced down at her naked breasts. “I was studying vampires, even befriended a few as well. They’re very interesting creatures.”

“I can imagine,” Hermione said. “You must have had a very interesting life.”

“Very,” he said, but he seemed to be far away in thought.

She looked at his face. He was frowning slightly. “What is it?” she asked.

He blinked and looked at her again. “Nothing, it’s just… vampires can feel magic better than we can. They move and work quicker than we do as well. Perhaps if I called in some favours…”

He rose from the bed and with a wave of his wand; he was dressed in an ordinary black robe. He took two steps toward the door, then turned around and went back to her. She was very surprised when he bent down to kiss her.

“You are very helpful, Hermione,” he whispered, and then disappeared.

Hermione stared after him. Voldemort could be weird sometimes. She sighed and went to get ready for the day. Almost an hour later, Voldemort still was not back. Since she didn’t know what to read now, she decided to go down to the Discipline Room for a workout.

A few Death Eaters were down there when she came and she recognised most of them. Two women were busy in a duel and three other were watching. Hermione ignored them and began her own practice. As she worked, more and more Death Eaters arrived to the room. She was almost done with her workout when she heard someone cough behind her. Turning around, she saw a very nervous Max.

“Hi,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “I just wanted to say… sorry. I didn’t mean too… I hope he didn’t…”

Hermione sighed. “I know its okay. However, I don’t think we can meet again for quite some time. He was very angry and I have to say that I was a bit angry myself.”

Now, Max met her eyes. “You were? I thought…”

Hermione frowned. “You thought what? Max, I like you as a friend, nothing more.”

“I know that,” he quickly assured. “I just… I didn’t know you liked your husband so much.”

“Well, I do,” Hermione heard herself saying. Then she blinked. She did?

“Oh, I just… sorry. I… you are just so pretty,” he mumbled. “And I’m so… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I first met you.”

Hermione couldn’t help smiling a little. What was with men this week? In her whole life only one boy had told her he liked her in a special way, now two in two days? Merlin.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to forget about me, Max,” she said. “I’m married and I’ll most likely stay married.”

He was about to say something when Rabastan Lestrange came up next to him. “Maximillius! What are you doing here?”

“I was just apologising,” Max said and looked up at his father. “I’ll leave, now.”

However, when he turned around to leave, Voldemort entered the room. It took him a moment to spot Hermione and his eyes narrowed dangerously when he saw Max. Rabastan put an arm around his son’s shoulder and Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. Nothing good could come out from this.

“Didn’t I tell you never to speak to her again?” Voldemort hissed to Max when he came closer. The whole room seemed to freeze.

Rabastan took a step forward. “My Lord, I don’t know what my son has done to anger you, but he was only here to apologise…”

“Silence!” Voldemort roared. He had his wand in his hand. Hermione felt like it was time to act. Rabastan was obviously trying to protect his son and Hermione felt for him. She would do the same for Dmitri.

She went up to Voldemort and put a hand on his arm. “Let me deal with this.”

Voldemort looked at her. “What?”

She looked straight into his eyes, unblinkingly. “This happened because of me. Let me deal with it.”

It took a couple of seconds, then he nodded and slowly lowered his wand. Hermione turned toward Rabastan who was still standing in front of his son. He took a step aside when Hermione walked to Max who looked at her with a frown. She knew what she had to do. Without any thought, she hit him straight in the face with all power she could muster. His nose brook and he fell down on his knees.

“Don’t touch me again,” Hermione said as coldly as she could. She turned around and went back to Voldemort who looked at her in surprised amusement. “Let’s go.”

Her husband held out his arm for her and when she took it, they both left the Discipline Room like a royal couple leaving a big feast.

Once they were out, Hermione let out a whimper. “Oh, my hand hurts so much.”

Voldemort chuckled and healed it for her. “That was excellent, my dear.”

She sighed and flexed her now healed fist. “I didn’t want you to torture him again. And hopefully, he will get over me now.”

He looked at her, quite thoughtfully. Then, he took her hand. “Come, I think it’s time for me to show you something.”

Hermione followed him quietly. Since he wasn’t wearing a glow now, she could sense his thoughts. He was excited and a bit worried but she didn’t try to listen to his thoughts. Voldemort thought far too quickly for her to keep up and she was glad she had managed to block that. It was only like a quiet background noise. However, it was helpful to know what he felt. That way, she knew what to expect. Alas, what ever he wanted to show her now couldn’t be too bad.

They walked to the Apparition point and she closed her eyes when he Apparated them away. When she opened them again, they were standing in a forest. Hermione frowned. Forests looked quite the same, but why did she get the feeling she had been here before?

“Are you up for a run?” Voldemort asked, smirking.

Hermione eyes widened. This was the same forest he had taken her too all those months ago because he thought she needed to run.

“Okay,” she said.

He transformed his robe into a more manageable pants and shirt and took off. Hermione followed him. She had no problem keeping up with him this time and when they reached the same lake she had bathed her feet in, he stopped. He sat down on a rock and made a gesture for her to sit down on the grass in front of him. She sat and leaned against a tree, looking up at him. The sun made him look paler than he was, almost sick. Hermione’s stomach clenched, she didn’t want him to get sick!

“Do you know where we are?” he asked after a while. He was looking out over the small lake.

“No?”

“We’re in the north of France, Normandy. It has been the place for many battles over the years. I have always found it… peaceful,” Voldemort explained. “I always imagine myself settling down here, after I had reached immortality. Then, when I decided that I wanted to control the world, I saw this place as my control centre.”

Hermione looked out over the lake as well. It was very peaceful and would probably be a good place to both settle down in and have a control centre. But why was he telling her this?

“When Potter killed my former body,” he continued in a low voice. “I spread my own ashes over this lake.”

She blinked. That was a bit… disturbing. Although, it did wake up her old question about how he had this body he had now. She asked the question aloud.

“I created this body,” he asked simply. “I was inspired my that Muggle novel by Mary Shelly Frankenstein.”

Hermione eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you robbed graves too…”

He chuckled. “No dear, this body has never been death. It didn’t live before I possessed it. And I won’t bore you with the details now, but if you are interested, you can read my research papers when you have the time. Although, creating this body did take lives. I picked out the Muggles I saw suitable and used them in a… magical cocktail. I also used my own blood and… other bodily fluids.”

Hermione got a very morbid picture in her head involving Voldemort and corpses. It made her shudder. “I thought you told me you weren’t going to tell this story until you wanted to make me sick!”

Voldemort shrugged. “I thought you would be able to handle it by now. But as I said, you can read it in detail some other time. What I want to tell you is that… if something ever happens to either of us, there is a way to get a perfect body back. Although, you have to do it in time, before you die. If I hadn’t bound my essence to the other body, I would have died when Potter threw the curse on me.”

Hermione started to become a little afraid. “Is something going to happen to… either of us?”

Voldemort looked at her for the first time since they sat down. His red eyes glistened in the sun. “I hope not. However, I would be stupid if I didn’t think we had enemies. When I saw what you did to Lestrange I realised that very soon, you’ll have a price on your head as well.”

“Do you think your Death Eaters will do something after what I did to Max?” she asked, a bit surprised.

“Not right away. Although, Rabastan didn’t look too happy. If you upset too many of them and they find you alone one night… they won’t care what I will do to them. And I know what they can do to people they want to hurt, especially to women,” Voldemort was talking in a slow, matter-of-factly voice. It made Hermione wonder how much he actually trusted his Death Eaters. He had said before that they feared him. But she also understood how troublesome it was that she was a Muggle-born. They had killed many like her just because Voldemort had said so.

She realised something. “Do the Death Eaters think that you really want to get rid of me? Because you have told them so many times that you hate Muggle-borns?”

Voldemort sighed. “Yes, I have received suggestions of ways to have you taken care of. Although, since I’m under the Contract, I have to protect you and can’t, in any way, imply that I would agree to such a thing.”

She frowned, not sure what to think of this. “Do you want me to die?”

He sank down on the grass in front of her and took her hands. “No, Hermione, I don’t want you to die.”

She could feel that he was sincere. And she realised that this was the closet to “I love you” she would ever come, so she kissed him. He seemed surprised by her kiss, although, he wasn’t late to take advantage over her willingness. Soon, they were both naked in a very heated embrace that left Hermione breathless. It was slow and still so passionate. It wasn’t regular shagging, this was making love.

However, her breathless happiness was ruined when she heard a thought running through his head. If Dmitri dies, I can have her all to myself again!
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The Contract