Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 32
- 33
- 34
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Please Read Review and Rate? Enjoy :] HM

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

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

‘Flashbacks’

Chapter 30 : Divide et Impera

Hermione was seated facing the Dark Lord who was occupying the throne-like chair of the headmaster at the staff table. To his left Severus Snape sat facing Lavender, this latter sat on her right, while Narcissa took the chair on her left facing her husband Lucius Malfoy whose seat was placed on Lord Voldemort’s right, and Remus Lupin took the seat to the left of Severus. They were having lunch while each couple faced one another.

Couple! Could she consider the Supreme Ruler and herself a couple? She was not sure what they were, least of all now, but he was adamant about making her his, totally, irrevocably, and to her utter astonishment, she felt a tug on her heart and knots in her stomach just thinking about it. Tugs and knots of the eager and passionate kind!!

Her anticipation, she had to admit it, was building up, despite her struggle against the hold he was knitting around her, yet like the proverbial fly caught in the spider web, she felt she was already losing the battle. To her, abdication sounded more and more inevitable. Watching him furtively under her lashes, her eyes were drawn to him, surrendering to his allure despite her best efforts not to stare, but like shrapnel to a magnet, her greedy orbs couldn’t get enough of him.

He was talking with that smooth deep velvety tone, wrapped around an iron will and razor-sharp intelligence, enhancing his unsurpassed authority, he looked the epitome of devilishly attractive, his snake like features rather than making him look repulsive were adding to his enigmatic and entrancing charisma.

He looked like some ancient deity, untouchable, superior, wielding his power with elegance, his presence effortlessly imposing respect, and other unmentionable flares, dissolute and taboo. Her body shivered deliciously, feasting on his mesmerizing persona, the last shreds of her resistance, those inhibitions that shackled her mind, rebelled and tightened their hold on her train of dissipated ideas, her body aflame melted the their hold, and won, its victory seeped from her vulva, in liquefied laurels.

She knew he was totally aware of her gawking at him, like an awed teen meeting her idol, she was certain he felt her carnal call, heat flashed her face in shades redder than her own dress, still she couldn’t find it in herself to wrench her staring eyes from his overpowering presence. She wanted to touch him, feel his heat; an imperceptible tilt appeared on his lips, hardly noticeable. If she weren’t looking at him all this time, she wouldn’t have perceived it. His trademark smug satisfied beam. barely lifting his virile, and oh so unkindly persuasive lips. This upward and so appealing lopsided smug smirk!

He licked his lower lip slowly, leaving behind the smear of his saliva, shining like a glossy film on that wicked virile mouth, and Merlin! She wanted to taste it, drink it, lick it, and be consumed by it. She knew instinctively that he was very much watchful of his effect on her, her response a dead give away. His unsubtle gesture was just for her, an invitation scarcely concealed, unabashedly inviting. The semantics of that fleshy muscled tongue promising her pleasure, and many other things she couldn’t even fathom.

The quavering intensified, her body a hostage of his unspoken words, yet thundering in every sensorial cell, his ethereal whispers heating her blood, liquefying her resistance and igniting her hunger. She looked up to see his ablaze ruby eyes focused on her, pupils black, needle thin slits, irises scorching red, all hell’s fires trapped within. She reckoned, deep down inside her craving body, he’d devour her with those smoldering fires until she’s aching, with excruciating pleasure, his wild fire entirely consuming her forest, until she’s all ashes at his feet.

An electric jolt, worthy of billions of megawatts, and as swift, flashed through her nervous system. A spear of unadulterated relentless sensations, her magical core’s vibrations hummed then lashed out of her control. In her deepest nucleus, waves were meeting rays, energy, heat, but then she recognized it was his intense aura, his devastating magical core, squeezing hers, a dominant embrace of passionate, roughly painful vibrations, he was surrounding her, embracing her, stroking, moving, thrusting inside of her, and the room around her, with all the people present, disappeared.

There was only the two of them. His eyes her anchor, her beacon. She had eyes only for him, her breath fragmented into irregular puffs, her heart accelerated to a sound-barrier breaking point, still as statue; her ears heard his pulsating thrumming vibes, from inside her being. Her brain was at a stand still anticipating, waiting for the stimuli stampede to obliterate each synapse under a dopamine tsunami.

She was silence, space, and senses, overflowing with his unuttered murmurs and furtive fondling, filled to the brim with his sizzling, undulating, forcefully massive magic. She was emptiness and he was crowding her with his ethereal entity’s frenzied jabbing. She was wholly shivering skin, quivering flesh, every single one of her lips moist, breath barely sufficient to survive, she was his captive, willingly.

His smoldering silken waves wrapped her magical core, swelling vibes of heated mass. Without warning, his abrupt hot stab, flared through their copulating cores, bursting in unison, he plunged, simultaneously, in both her wired neurons and her clinching vagina, in a single nanosecond, she was almost climaxing, almost a culmination, except, at that precise instant, when nearly soaring to the crest, he withdrew, like a wisp of smoke from a blown out candle, softly torturing, tenderly tormenting, stroking her visceral lust, untangling their coiling interlaced nuclei, to glide away and out of her reach.

Cold, she felt so cold without him. She wanted to cry, she wanted to cling to him, she wanted to beg and scream for him to not leave her hanging, suspended in this void, in this gravity free space, like a dead rock, frosty and lonely, gliding adrift in emptiness without his secure boundaries.

Jolting out of her trance-like journey, jarred into the present moment. She vaguely believed her soul fell back down into her body, She was fuzzily comparing the sensations to an out of body experience, her whole being was quivering. The feeling similar to when one is jerked into consciousness, when falling from vertiginous heights in a dream! Looking around her, all were conversing and chattering, not paying attention to her. No one seemed aware of what wicked debauchery took place between the Dark ferociously exquisite and fiercely decadent Lord and her.

How much time passed, she couldn’t tell, though from the looks of it, it was very brief, maybe five minutes at most.

She was afraid to look up and meet his eyes; trying to smother down the ache persistent at the junction of her thighs. Repeatedly contracting and relaxing her vaginal muscles, to alleviate and counteract the restless tightening of her saturated canal, the moisture seeping from the muscles under the cervix of the uterus, to the external opening between her labia minora, oozing to her labia majora, to finally reach her vulva.

Ironically she thought, she definitely could do without the ‘Kegel exercise’ at this point in time, though it was hardly helping ease the strain. However, the spasmodic throbbing of her clitoris, screaming her unsatisfied body’s objections, persisted for longer than she cared to endure.

Grabbing her courage with both hands, aided by her clenched teeth, and fingernails digging into the palms of her hands, hidden from his view under the table, in her lap, she slowly lifted her eyelids, her dark chocolate fiery orbs moving from her plate still empty on the table, to his face. He was still looking at her, his lips slanted to one side, in a cruelly sarcastic, though agonizingly enticing leer.

His knowing grin turned arrogant, superior; intoxicating, his eyes were back to their golden hue speckled with reddish streaks, a sadistic glee illuminated his snake like features. The pleasure he derived from her uncomfortable and flustered state, unmistakable. She looked hot and bothered, if her eyes were any indication. Unequivocally etched on his ruthless fiendish mien, the smug smile crowned his allure, and accentuated the Dark Dominant Lord.

He was ferociously relishing her body language, unpityingly appraising her breathless disappointment, remorselessly caressing her sweating flesh with the gold-red orbs’ wicked promises. His unmerciful tongue unrelentingly wetting his remorselessly smirking lips, reminding her of another smooth as silk, wet, but rock-hard appendage of his, which she tasted and thus learned to savor. Reflexively, her own tongue pushed through her lips, wetting them, like she was taught before, preparing her salivating oral cavity, the lesson ingrained in her subconscious, and to her utter surprise, she now craved its texture, feel and flavor.

His eyes spoke his answer in twisted requests, merciless desires and callous passion, languages she deciphered, understood and sensed. She was hanging on his every shift, move, and expression, sentient of his acuity to what she intensely craved, for subconsciously she recognized him as the only one who could give her what she would earnestly request. All she had to do is ask.

He licentiously winked at her, the self-satisfied leer still in place, then slowly turned his head to listen to Severus who asked him something she couldn’t care less about. Still clinging to the remnants of his attention, his eyes straying from hers, hurt! She wanted his interest back, his attention focused on her. Implacably she was cast aside, his concentration was somewhere else, on someone else. Again she was a rock, gliding in her empty cold space. All she wanted is his sun to dive into, melt, glow, and explode.

Looking down at her plate again, she closed her eyes to try and get a grip on herself. Her respiration under control after deliberate inhale and exhale, her heartbeats steadily decelerated. The rest of her body functions followed docilely. She tried to analyze what happened and was ready to bet her life on it, he had “sexual intercourse” with her, through their magical cores, in front of everyone. If sexual is the right adjective to use, both metaphorically and literally!

It was more a ferocious beastly rutting that even “having sex” couldn’t cover, oddly unphysical, with undeniable tangible effect. He made her experience and “suffer” his ‘fucking hard’. She enjoyed every single moment of it, until, true to his ruthless and sadistic nature, he left her hanging on the edge of the blade, watching her panting and sweating, while trying to regain her wobbling common sense. Struggle to relieve the agonizingly pleasurable, and simultaneously, punishingly painful throbbing of her denied orgasm, which he was more than thrilled to inflict.

Erotic pain, she never considered the potential, or the possible coexistence of such contradictory sensations! Paradoxically, she wanted more of it, seeing that she tasted the forbidden fruit, unsurprisingly, she sought much more of the same, even if there was no physical gratification per se. However, the merest recall of the feelings and sensations she experienced, only moments ago, drove her to the brink, and forced her to look his way, again, beseeching with her whole being for him to quench her thirst! Is that how junkies feel? Addiction, he’s addictive, he’s toxic, deliciously so!

Merlin knows she’s becoming addicted to him, to his smell, looks, presence, aura, arrogance, cruelty, sarcasm, power, authority, in a nutshell Dominance. She was ready to plead on her knees if necessary, to prostrate her being at his feet to feel all of him, again reach that blazing zenith she could never attain without him. This same consideration brought another on its heel; the truth hit her like a ton of bricks!

His message became crystal clear, He alone owned her pleasure, it was his to give, as much as her pain. The “interlude” was his means to ascertain, without a touch, yet with effortless physically solid evidence, that He is indeed her Master!

He certainly knew how to awaken the submissive in her. He simply showed her what his Dominant could and would do to and for her submissive, alone or surrounded by others. Tests and punishments. Pain and pleasure. Control and laying claim. Dominant and submissive. Godric’s sword! The absolute exhibitionism, which suffused their roaring passion, or rather his “magical” sensuous onslaught, brought forth her carnal desires, exposed, naked, unprotected for her own eyes to observe, identify and admit.

She gathered he was certainly and keenly conscious, all along, that as a result of his resolute yet entrancing “test”, she would be no longer able to deny her own lustful needs than his control and Dominance over her. Flagrantly aware of what he was proving to her, as far as he was concerned, it was a given, she was his no matter what she thought, did or said. He simply waited for her to decide, to accept, and to kneel.

Deciding it is better to spare herself the embarrassment of more “Hermione-red” on her ready to burst face, she has got plenty of time to go over these new perspectives, and come to terms with what she really wanted to do, though she was certain her choice was already made, however she needed to put it in comprehensible declaration and more to the point, a coherent statement. She turned to look around the empty Great Hall.

The chattering of conversations around her, reminded her of the old days, even the meal itself brought back fond memories. A smile tugged on her lips, thinking of how her life was changing, at so fast a pace. His pace.

Who would have thought that she, Hermione Jean Granger would one day sit facing The Dark Lord to have lunch, in Hogwarts no less, then be claimed and possessed by him through magic, in front of all people present, albeit ignorant of his less than proper lustful feat, with two of his most trusted Death Eaters on either side, and their significant other, Narcissa and Lavender of all people, on hers! The shameless boldness of the wizard knows no limits! And damn it! This same arrogantly superior behavior of his, is so bloody highly appealing, fascinating; and strikingly sexy!

Listening now and then, still shaken by her intense experience, fighting off the residual sensual effects, Hermione tried concentrating on what she heard Lupin and Snape talking about. The changes at school and the curriculum pertaining to potions, and whether the Potions professor who had been recommended by Severus was up to par. She also heard tidbits of what the Dark Lord discussed with Lucius and Narcissa concerning some ministry matters, then her ears perked when she heard about Draco’s approaching wedding!

She looked at Narcissa and asked smiling, after making sure her vocal cords were working, “ Draco is going to get married? To whom?” Hermione was surprised at her lack of jealousy concerning this big news! She once thought herself attracted to Draco, back in the days when he was at the Order, spending too much time together.

However, she also subconsciously knew, it was not deep romantic feelings she harbored towards him, they were more in the vein of freshly blooming camaraderie and amiable fondness. After what took place just moments earlier, she was absolutely sure no one could be in command of her mind, body and heart like he could, no one could compete with him, he had no rival, he had no equal, He ruled supreme over her.

Bringing her wandering deliberations back to the topic at hand, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, caused by merely evoking his name, she concentrated on the joyful news. She felt genuinely pleased for Draco. He finally found someone to share his life with. She was wholeheartedly delighted about it, hoping the witch he chose to be a good match, a loving, caring partner, and would make him happy, because he deserves all the happiness in the world.

Mrs. Malfoy beamed proudly and engaged Hermione in a long explanation about Astoria Greengrass, and the coming marriage in six months from now. Also mandatory, as in all similar “nuptial” conversations, was the minute and detailed descriptions of every part of the preparations, the future mother-in-law was busy organizing with the bride to be.

Hermione listened to Draco’s animated mother, while everything went in one ear and out the other. She kept smiling at the excited witch, nodding and humming now and then, despite the fact that she was totally disinterested in the colors of the expensive silk tablecloths and finest napkins selected to match the polychrome of the exotic flowers Astoria picked out. Not to mention that she personally wouldn’t have picked said exotic flowers for her own wedding, and when it came to the Reception Hall, she hadn’t the slightest idea of what the excited witch was talking about, let alone where it was located, considering she never frequented such posh locales!

Patiently and not to seem rude, she kept her “interest” act, thanking Lavender for butting in, every five minutes, squeaking her approval of this and that, being her usual bubbly, and lively self for two! Hermione had a very vague idea, if at all, of the gourmets and delicacies which Narcissa listed in a matter of fact tone, and were supposed to figure on the dinner’s menu, after the wedding ceremony, implying such ‘haute cuisine’ selection is a given!

Naturally, la pièce de résistance was kept for last. The icing on the chatter cake, no pun intended, was the inescapable 10 layers wedding cake, with all its ingredients, its decorations and frosting, and for a split second, the Gryffindor witch was terrified about the prospect of hearing its recipe as well.

Hermione was more interested in knowing how the couple met, so she wiggled her way into the culinary drivel and asked some open ended questions, knowing Narcissa would bite, and eagerly relay the romantic fairy-tale. From what she understood, apparently both parties were attracted to one another, since Hogwarts years, but due to the circumstances and Draco’s missions, they had to postpone their engagement until the war was finally finished.

Hermione was genuinely pleased to know it wasn’t a prearranged marriage between the two families, like it was usually custom in the purebloods milieu. She remembered Astoria being the little sister of Daphne Greengrass. The Witch entered her 1^st year at Hogwarts, when she, Draco and the rest of her friends were in 3^rd year.

Her attention strayed a while later, to Severus and Remus talking about past events during the war, and then reminiscing with the Dark Lord, and Lucius Malfoy, especially about Dumbledore, and his cronies.

The youngest of Hogwarts Headmasters started counting on his fingers while conversing, and Hermione’s mind, while listening intently to many incidents narrated by one or the other of the wizards involved in the discussion, was quick to put some pieces of the puzzle(s) together, her heart, with each piece locked in place, was beating louder in her ears, her “big brother” continued counting, and talking to Severus, while she pricked up her ears.

“Why Peter was hidden with Ron Weasley of all people? Do you think that Molly Weasley did not know about who this animagus was?? She of all people wanted Sirius dead as much as Dumbledore if not more. But then again Pettigrew himself was an Order of the Phoenix member in the 1^st war against his Lordship, wasn’t he??“

Severus nodded in acquiescence, gesturing with his hand, he drawled, “Lord Voldemort knew the whole scheme through Pettigrew, who started to see the real colors of Albus, and his underhanded plans. Once Padfoot was framed by Peter who did what his conniving master coerced him to do, Albus forced him after that into his animagus form and sent him to stay with that dunderhead Ron Weasley, as his rat Scabbers, under the pretense of protecting him from Sirius and the authorities. During which time our Dark Lord was absent, busy organizing and building the Center with some select members of his Inner circle and loyal followers. It was a very astute maneuver, since Albus believed the Dark Lord was dead. Peter was afraid to come out from his hiding place at the Weasleys, until he ran during your werewolf episode, which cornered me into apprehending Sirius, Peter went to Lord Voldemort and told him everything.”

“But How Peter Pettigrew was picked as Secret-Keeper? Albus Dumbledore offered to be the Secret-Keeper first, but James refused, and wanted Sirius instead, but it was Peter who was chosen. Sirius told me when I stayed with him, Severus.” Remus pondered loudly.

Severus took a bite of chicken, chewed slowly, swallowed, dabbed his lips then in his deep silky voice responded in his matter of fact tone, “Sirius was afraid that Lord Voldemort might abduct him, so he convinced James to choose Peter, instead of you or Albus, given that he too was already starting to get suspicious of Albus’ treachery!”

True to her inquisitive nature, Hermione ploughed her way into the conversation by asking, “ How were the Potters found then by The Dark Lord and by Dumbledore? If Peter was the safe-keeper, he must have told one or either!”

The young Headmaster looked at her, smiled and responded with his calm and soothing manner “Ah! Proving again that you are the brightest witch of your age! You are asking a very judicious question Hermione, but to answer it let me ask another question. From all the Potters’ houses to choose a safe place, and they had many Hermione, the Potters House is known to be wealthy, with lots of assets and property, so why hide them in the Potters Cottage, in that Merlin’s forsaken almost isolated village, Godric’s Hollows? Only 2 knew of the hiding place, Albus and Peter. Albus told peter to recommend the cottage as a hiding place to James.”

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head as if still not believing how Albus played and manipulated everyone around him, he said, “Who cast the Fidelius Charm? Albus Dumbledore. James went with Peter to meet him, notifying him that the hiding place was picked and Peter was chosen as Safe-Keeper. Thus Dumbledore knew before casting the Fidelius-Charm where the Potters would be hiding, since Pettigrew told him James selected the ‘suggested’ place. But regardless, Albus should have been bound to secrecy, as a Secondary Keeper because Pettigrew told him indirectly."

Sighing, he took a sip of water then between clinched teeth said "We all know a Secondary Keeper is unable to reveal the secret place to anyone else even if he wanted to, only the Safe-Keeper could. Then how was he able to send Hagrid to fetch baby Harry from Godric’s Hollows? If, Primo he didn’t know where the Potters were hidden as he claimed, and secondo his status as a secondary keeper. You know all about this charm Hermione. These facts alone prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Albus Dumbledore knew the chosen location before the Fidelius Charm was used. Amazingly enough Dumbledore’s simple scheme worked. You certainly know that it is only the caster of this specific charm who can lift it. Albus Dumbledore not only cast the Fidelius Charm, he lifted it after he killed the Potters. Lord Voldemort reached them too late that night.”

The Gryffindor witch’s mind was starting to ache, Merlin! How Dumbledore twisted all the facts to accuse the Dark Lord while he was the real murderer. He designed and executed meticulously every phase of his plans, following the maxim “divide et impera”, divide and rule indeed! He fragmented the Marauders, killed Potter, imprisoned Black, exiled Pettigrew, and controlled the livelihood of the last Wizard standing, Lupin! Were there no limits to that wizard’s evil machinations?!

With a heavy heart she asked, “ Why Peter Pettigrew went to the Dark Lord then? Why did he frame Sirius? What about you?”

Remus shook his head saddened by all this reminiscing. It frustrated him still, how not a single one of their quartet knew what the conniving criminal was planning, though suspicions abounded, but the manipulative bastard played his hand with maestria, gaining and maintaining control by breaking them up.

Before uttering a word, he thought it was time for Hermione to know the real evil face of Albus Dumbledore, in order for her to move on, and leave him behind, in the past with all of his destructive influence.

In a strong and determined inflection he rejoined, ” I was kept out of where the Potters were hidden, because the scoundrel Dumbledore convinced James and Sirius of the possibility of my being a spy for Lord Voldemort. As for Peter Pettigrew, Indeed he went to the Dark Lord and he told him where the Potters were, but not to kill them. Contrary to what everyone believed in the past, Peter knew something foul was about to happen, especially when Albus insisted that he persuades James to choose Godric’s Hollows to hide. Peter decided to desert Albus, and the Order. He went to his Lordship to help save the Potters from being killed.”

Severus took over the explanation when he saw Remus’ shaken by the loss of his friends, and his voice was hoarse, so he decided to relay the rest. Hermione’s eyes at this point misted, since she knew and felt how hard it was to lose one’s friends, just like her. She discretely wiped her tearing eyes and listened to what her ex-professor, had to say.

“Dumbledore thought of killing two birds with one stone, Miss Granger. On one hand he wanted to get rid of James Potter because first he wanted Harry under his total control, second Sirius was starting to confide in James about his suspicions concerning the Headmaster and his Order of the Phoenix real purpose. The other part of Albus’ plan was to frame Sirius with the Potters murder. Alas it all came to fruition. He indeed killed the Potters and made Peter frame Padfoot. I am sure Miss Granger that you want to ask how?”

Severus lips stretched to form a knowing smirk when she nodded in the affirmative, eyes focused on him, he took a sip from his glass of water, while Hermione fidgeted wanting him to resume with his narration already. The irksome professor was aware of her impatience, his grin deepened, however he sustained with his silky drawling cadence

“Albus told Peter about Sirius’ supposed intention to kill him because he suspected him to be on Lord Voldemort’s payroll. Peter, understandably, became anxious, considering he was already seriously involved with the Dark Lord, seeking help and refuge, not to mention he told him where the Potters were. Consequently, he decided to buy himself time and executed Dumbledore’s orders, after this latter promised him a safe shelter from the authorities”

The witch was now as pale as a sheet of parchment. Albus Dumbledore killed the Potters that she already knew from Lucius Malfoy. However, listening yet again to facts she already knew, in such a detailed description, from Remus Lupin and Severus Snape was heart wrenching, and daunting.

Harry, her best friend, and the brother she always counted on, hadn’t had a chance against a manipulative and evil wizard like Dumbledore. To know the intricacies of those horrible incidents, some of which she witnessed personally was disheartening.

There was this tidbit of a nagging detail in the back of her mind that insisted on clarification. Why Dumbledore wanted to have power over Harry, why he wanted total control over him? For what purpose? This made no sense to her! She couldn’t find a plausible answer so she voiced her uncertainty.

Severus’ smile grew bigger, and his eyes became two black glowing gems when he replied scoffing snidely, “Beside controlling the Potters financial assets, since he appointed himself as Harry’s legal caregiver, he was led to believe that Mr. Potter was the true heir of Slytherin….”

“What?! “ Hermione couldn’t believe her ears! Albus Dumbledore thought Harry was the heir of Slytherin?!

The sinister smirk that flashed on the Dark Lord sensual lips, and reflected in his beaming eyes, told her that this whole charade was his own instigation. The Dark Lord looked into her eyes, while his silky inflections and sinful smooth velvet baritone caressed her whole being before reaching her ears and befuddled mind, “Pretty one, Marvolo Gaunt was a distant cousin of both Harry and I, through the Peverells lineage, which makes us distant relatives. Albus, who sought to control Harry, after his failure of controlling me, knew this minute albeit crucial detail. I exploited his knowledge and greed when I tricked him to believe that Harry Potter was the heir of Salazar Slytherin, not I, via Severus. My best spy told Albus he heard me screaming this ‘fact’ in a fit of rage, and that I was plotting to kill the boy, to be the heir myself, this misinformation, turned out to be his Achilles' heel and paved the way to his demise.”

Hermione, aware that her jaw was slackening from this avalanche of information, she snapped it shut, and shook her head. The whole account gave the impression of being in the middle of the most intricate game of chess ever known to wizard or muggle alike! What made the whole “match” more complicated is the chess pieces were in the inverse order! The black ones were actually of the Light and vice-versa, what one considered light pieces were in fact dark, the genuine kind of dark!

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