Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 58981 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 38
- 39
- 40
Sorry for the long wait. School was very hectic until the very end, but at least all my hard work paid off in the end! So now, here is a new chapter!

Huge thanks to Nerys and Shan84 for taking their time to beta the chapter for me.

I’d also like to thank everyone who took their time to review. Review replies can be found at: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/20494-shared-flame-by-lady-miya/

Chapter 38
Voldemort didn’t sleep that night. He didn’t trust the Ministry’s guards at all. If it weren’t for the tiny detail that he would look guilty, he would have broken out of there the moment they threw him in.
Either way, he didn’t like being unable to do magic. Being inside this cage was suffocating. The only thing that kept him from losing his cool was that he knew a way to break out, if necessary. His position at the Wizengamot had given him access to some very sensitive information about the Ministry’s wards.
Alas, showing that knowledge would lead to many questions, and that would make him look guilty as well. Why would he bother finding the weakness if he didn't think he could use it? Therefore, he calmed himself with the knowledge that he could break free, if he needed to. But he wasn’t that desperate yet. Potter didn’t have any evidence of who Marcus was, other than his words. Even though Potter’s word weighed a lot with the Aurors, Miss Tamsin would destroy that sooner rather than later. They would be out of here within a matter of hours. Then they could work on destroying Potter’s credibility as well as saving their daughter from the fairies.
Voldemort exhaled in frustration as he thought about his daughter. Why hadn’t he considered that the fairies would use her first Hogwarts trip to get her? It hadn’t been on his mind at all. Could the fairies have manipulated him in some way? He had thought they were both clean of fairy magic, but there was a lot that he didn’t know about the fairies still. If only he had access to Merlin’s library …
That thought made him pause. Why couldn’t he gain access to Merlin’s library? He knew where it was, after all. It would be hard, especially with Potter’s accusations. He couldn’t really risk being caught … but this was his daughter. And who said he would be caught?
It would delay Althea’s rescue, though, but that couldn't be helped. The fairies wouldn’t kill her, but they would make it difficult to find her. That would be their first priority. He didn’t doubt that their precautions would be finished once he got out of the cell. Therefore, there was no use being rash. They would need to plan this carefully. Hermione would have to understand that. She would also have to realise that they needed to take care of Potter to be able to search freely. No one could think that he was Voldemort. In fact, if they were to gain access to Merlin’s library, it would be good if the Aurors were occupied with something else. If they believed Potter was being tricked by “Voldemort”, then they would start a search. He would have to make sure they had some sort of trail to follow. Something that kept them busy for a while.
But then there was Potter. Once everyone believed he was crazy, he would become reckless. Voldemort had to make sure Potter didn’t try to kill him …
Or wait. If Potter did try to kill him, Voldemort could claim self-defence. Or, even better, he could make sure someone else saw that Potter was trying to kill him and have them stop Potter. That way, Potter would be the one locked into Azkaban for some time. Probably not forever, since he was The-Boy-Who-Annoyed and all that. It would put Potter away for the time it would take to break into Merlin’s library and rescue his daughter. After that, he could see if something more permanent needed to happen to Potter.
“Have you been awake all night?” Hermione asked in a low voice as the light in the cell was turned on.
Voldemort blinked. Time moved so quickly when you were planning. “Yes. You slept some.”
Hermione sighed. “Not well.”
He kissed her shoulder. “I don’t blame you.”
Hermione wriggled a bit, and he realised she was correcting her skirt. “Merlin, I feel disgusting. Do you think they will let us shower?”
Voldemort recalled their sex the night before and smirked. “Why, feeling sticky?”
She glared at him as she moved out of the bed. “Just tell me if I look okay.”
“You look as if you have slept in your clothes,” he answered truthfully. “Hand me my trousers.”
She threw them to him and tried to flatten her blouse with her hands, annoyance evident on her face. “This isn’t working!”
Voldemort frowned at her and rose, buttoning up his trousers. She was behaving … odd. She wasn’t a shallow person; why would she care what her clothes looked like? It took him a moment to realise she was trying not to have a breakdown. He sighed and walked up to her.
“Look at me,” he ordered her. “Stand still.”
He helped her sort out her hair, so it was not flying all over the place, and then he eyed her clothes.
“They are just wrinkly. And since they didn’t bother giving us a change, I doubt anyone will blame you for it. You can wear my robe over it if you’d like?”
“No, I’m fine. I just …” she trailed off, taking a deep breath as if to calm herself. “I just want to get out of here.”
“So do I, love,” he said and put on his shirt.
He had just finished buttoning it up when the door to the cell opened and a guard came in with their breakfast. “Your attorney is here already,” he said, putting the tray down on the table. “You’ll be escorted to a hearing in half an hour.”
“Thank you,” Voldemort said politely, but he put the guard’s face to memory. When he had the opportunity, he was going to kill every last one who had seen him locked in like this.
The guard simply nodded and left.
“You need to eat,” Voldemort pointed out ten minutes later when all Hermione had done was play with her spoon in the yoghurt.
Hermione looked up at him. For a moment, all she did was stare at him with a hollow expression. Then, her eyes lit with fire and she threw the plate with yoghurt into the wall. Voldemort didn’t even flinch when the plate broke with a crushing sound.
“Feeling better?” he asked, taking another sip from the dreadful excuse they called coffee at the Ministry.
“No,” she growled and stood up, starting to pace the cell.
To his great surprise, she was glaring as if she were angry at him. What the hell had he done now? He sighed and turned back to his own breakfast. This wasn’t the place to get into a fight. Let the Aurors think she was angry at them. She probably was as well.
When the door opened again, Tamsin stood next to the guard, dressed in a tailored dark-green robe, which gave a very professional impression. Then again, Tamsin always knew how to dress for the occasion. That was one of the reasons Voldemort had chosen her as his attorney.
“Are you ready?” she asked them.
Voldemort rose from the chair. “To get out of here? Certainly.”
Tamsin gave him a small, satisfied smile, which told him she had everything in order for their release.
They were escorted from the cell by two Aurors and Tamsin. The Aurors didn’t say anything, but Voldemort could see from their relaxed walk that they didn’t expect anything to happen. It was merely protocol that had them there.
When he realised that they weren’t even led into one of the hearing chambers but a conference room in the Auror Department instead, he could hardly suppress a smile. If there were even a small chance in the Aurors’ mind that he was Voldemort, he wouldn’t have been taken here. They had already won.
Five people were already in the conference room. He recognised the two Aurors who had interrogated him the day before, Rochester and Sabin, as well as Chief Warlock Handel and Minister Shacklebolt. The fifth person was Harry Potter.
“Hermione, Marcus, please take a seat,” Shacklebolt said, not even looking half as uncomfortable as the other people in the room. Then again, being Minister required some acting skills.
Voldemort sat down next to Hermione, while Tamsin sat down next to him.
Voldemort studied the other people around the table as he made sure to look both haggard and angry. Rochester and Sabin were both going through their papers, not making eye contact with anyone. Handel gave Voldemort a reassuring smile, probably wanting to give him the impression he had managed to make all of this happen. No doubt so Voldemort wouldn’t press charges against the Wizengamot as well as the Aurors. Potter looked utterly defeated and angry.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Shacklebolt cleared his throat. “Well, we wanted to meet you both here and begin by apologising for the discomfort members of the Ministry have caused you.”
Voldemort didn’t bother to hold back a snort. “Discomfort?”
Shacklebolt sighed. “Yes, well, I hope both of you understand that, with the information we had, we had to act fast and with power. If there was any chance that Voldemort was posing as someone else, especially someone with as much influence as you, Marcus, we couldn’t risk him to get away.”
“I guess it’s too much to ask the Ministry to verify their sources before they act,” Hermione spat, her hands turning into fists on the table.
“We thought we had,” Rochester said. “But we are not perfect; mistakes—”
“Mistakes?” Hermione interrupted, her voice hard. “You are the reason my daughter is missing!”
“Hermione,” Voldemort said softly and put his hand on top of the one she had fisted in her lap. Then he turned to the Minister. “If you want to apologise for arresting us, then just go ahead and do it. We have more important things to do than stay here.”
“Yes. Well, then, Harry?” Shacklebolt said, turning to the boy.
Potter hadn’t looked at any of them during the few minutes they had been there, but now he rose swiftly, glaring at Voldemort. “I know who you truly are, and I won’t rest until I’ve found more solid evidence.”
Voldemort applied his best face of sorrow, but on the inside, he was snickering. This was going to be so entertaining.
“Harry—” Shacklebolt tried, a tone of warning in his voice.
“No!” Harry interrupted. “I know I’m right. I was right before; I’m right now; and I’ll make sure you’ll know it, too, in the end.”
With that, he stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut. Rochester and Sabin exchanged a look of surprise and worry. The Minister sighed and shook his head.
“On behalf of the Ministry, I’ll have to apologise then,” Shacklebolt said. “You will, of course, be compensated for your time in custody, and because of the public arrest, we will make an official apology in the Daily Prophet tomorrow.”
Voldemort knew they were trying to make amends with them. Shacklebolt knew how much damage they could cause to the Ministry and the current administration’s reputation if they wanted to. They were trying to save face. Well, Voldemort could play nice. It never hurt to have leverage against the Ministry in many different ways.
Also, he didn’t want people to remember this incident for long. He wanted to kill the people who arrested him and humiliate them without anyone connecting the dots. That would be easier if their arrests were forgotten.
“Good. Are we free to go?” Voldemort asked briskly.
Tamsin nudged him. “You do know we could sue the Ministry?”
“Yes. But right now I just want to take my wife home so we can comfort our youngest daughter who is no doubt very worried about us, before finding our oldest daughter who I can’t imagine is feeling much better.”
“Yes, of course,” Shacklebolt said. “We are searching for her as well. If someone contacts you or you find a new lead, we will assist you further.”
Voldemort had no intention of letting them assist him in any way, but he nodded nonetheless.
“Does that mean we are free to leave?” Hermione asked, rising as she spoke.
“Yes,” Shacklebolt answered. “We just have some papers for you to sign. But if you want, your attorney can take care of that.”
Voldemort glanced at Tamsin. “Will you contact us later tonight about what these papers entailed?”
“Of course. You two get home,” Tamsin answered.
“Well then. Where are our wands?” Voldemort asked, rising as well.
Ten minutes later, they Apparated home, free as birds.
“Alexandra?” Hermione called when they landed in their hallway.
The sound of something heavy hitting the floor and running feet came from the storey above them. The next moment, Voldemort found himself being tackled by the fifty pound girl. Alexandra hugged his midsection tightly, sobbing softly.
“Dad, I was so scared!” she cried into his shirt. “Why did they take you?”
Voldemort stroked his daughter’s head before making her ease her grip around him. “It’s okay now, Alex. The Aurors made a mistake. I’m home now.”
“Alex,” Hermione said softly and kneeled next to their daughter, pulling her into a hug. Alexandra began sobbing against her mother’s chest, apparently not being able to stay collected anymore.
As mother and daughter comforted each other, Mizuro approached Voldemort from the dining room.
“Any news?” he asked, and made a gesture for Mizuro to follow him into the office.
“Marcus!” Hermione hissed to him over Alexandra’s head.
Voldemort grimaced. It seemed Hermione was still not very happy with him. Thankfully, she had her hands full with Alexandra. Thus, Voldemort sent her a look saying they would talk later and lead Mizuro into his office. He could tell she wasn’t happy by that, but he didn’t have time for her theatrics right now.
“Well?” he asked, closing the door.
“No news. Althea can’t be found by any known magical means,” Mizuro said.
Even though Voldemort had suspected as much, it made him annoyed. “You tried everything?”
“Every locating spell I know,” Mizuro admitted.
That meant normal Dark Arts as well. Voldemort would try them as well later, just to be sure Mizuro hadn’t made a mistake. However, he didn’t have high hopes. Mizuro was very competent in the Dark Arts.
“I’ll need you around for a bit longer. Do you have anything you need to settle?” Voldemort asked.
“Not right now. I’m not expected back in Japan until next week.”
“You may need to postpone your return,” Voldemort said. “I need you to guard Alexandra.”
Mizuro sighed but nodded. He would do as his master commanded, as always, but unlike Death Eaters, Mizuro didn’t mind showing he was displeased with an order. Voldemort couldn’t care less of Mizuro’s displeasure though, as long as the other man did what he was told.
“So you do know who has taken your daughter,” Mizuro commented.
“Fairies,” Voldemort answered. “This house is secure from them, but I need to search your mind to see if you have been compromised. You’ll have to sleep here until we have resolved this mess. I can’t risk the fairies turning you against me as well.”
“I see,” Mizuro said and sat down in one of the armchairs, making himself comfortable for the Legilimency.
Voldemort was just about to begin when Hermione opened the door, holding Alexandra’s hand.
“Marcus?” she asked, giving him a pointed look that told him she wanted to talk to him, alone, asap.
“In a minute, Hermione,” Voldemort said. “I need to make sure we are safe.”
Hermione regarded him a moment, then let out a frustrated sigh. She was growing impatient again. Voldemort wondered how long she would be able to keep her cool. He would have to speak to her soon. It would be no good if she ran out, trying to find Althea without a plan. However, making sure Mizuro didn’t kill them all the moment he lowered his guard took first priority.
“I’ll make some lunch, then,” Hermione muttered. Still holding Alexandra’s hand, she left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Prepare yourself,” Voldemort told Mizuro before entering his mind.
Thankfully, Voldemort found no evidence of fairy magic inside his minion’s mind. Neither could he see anything amiss during the time Mizuro had looked after Alexandra. The girl had been staying in the library most of the time, reading. Voldemort was a bit surprised over it. Alexandra usually had too much energy to spend the day inside with a book, unlike Althea and Hermione. Voldemort wondered if she were up to something or if she had just been sad and tried to find comfort where her absent sister and mother always got it.
“Don’t sleep anywhere but here,” Voldemort ordered Mizuro as they made their way to the kitchen for lunch.
“I have already had my things transported to your guestroom,” Mizuro said. “Will you be going out and searching for her today?”
“I need to take care of some other things first,” Voldemort replied. “You should probably read up on fairies.”
“I look forward to it,” Mizuro replied truthfully. Like most academics, he liked learning new things.
They sat down at the table where Hermione had made some turkey sandwiches. Voldemort looked at his daughter, feeling slightly annoyed by her presence. She complicated matters, and he didn’t like it. Up until now, his children had mostly been useful for him, and he hoped they would continue to be so in the future. But what if they got in the way more and more? He couldn’t just kill them; Hermione would never stand for that, and he wanted Hermione to stay with him. Well, he would just have to make sure that they didn’t get in the way. Somehow.
“What happened to Althea, Dad?” Alexandra asked carefully, after a moment of silence. It was clear that the question worried her.
“Althea has been kidnapped,” Voldemort replied, taking a bite of his sandwich.
Alexandra swallowed. “By Voldydorks?”
Voldemort choked on his sandwich. He coughed a few times, giving Hermione time to answer in his place.
“No, love, Voldydorks didn’t take Althea. Fairies did.”
Voldemort glared at her, not liking the name-calling (Where on earth had Alexandra learned that name?) nor Hermione’s openness. “I thought we wouldn’t involve the children?”
“And look how well that went,” Hermione snarled before turning towards Alexandra again. “You have to be careful, Alex. They can’t touch you as long as you are in this house, so you have to be careful until we have this resolved. Don’t go outside alone.”
Alexandra frowned. “What kind of fairies? The ones in the stories are nice.”
“These fairies are not like the ones in the stories. They can look like anything,” Hermione explained. “One of them calls herself Morgana. She is the one who has taken Althea. We don’t think they will harm her, but they won’t give her back either. Your father and I will find them and make them give Althea back, though.”
“Why have they taken Althea?” Alexandra asked.
“They want to use her magic,” Hermione said. “But we won’t let them. As soon as we find out where they are, we will go there and bring Althea back.”
“Will it be dangerous?” Alexandra sounded worried again.
Hermione’s reassuring smile didn’t fool Voldemort and it didn’t seem to fool Alexandra either. “Don’t worry, Alex. We will get your sister back, safe and sound.”
“You can’t tell anyone about this, though,” Voldemort told Alexandra firmly. “We don’t know who is on the fairies’ side, so we can’t trust anyone but the ones in this room.”
“Okay,” Alexandra said, looking down on her plate. “Can I go to the library now?”
“Very well,” Voldemort allowed, making a mental note to ask her what she was doing in the library later.
Once Alexandra had disappeared from the table, Hermione looked at him, her face full of determination. “Where should we start looking?”
“First, you and I are going to talk,” Voldemort said and rose. “Ken, I trust you can entertain yourself?”
“Believe it or not, I do have my own work to do,” Mizuro replied dryly and left the kitchen as well.
Voldemort rolled his eyes.
“We haven’t done anything but talk,” Hermione growled as he spelled the dishes clean.
“We need a plan, Hermione. Acting before thinking is exactly what got us into this mess to begin with. I don’t think we want to copy Potter’s mistake,” he reminded her.
“Well, pardon me for not being an emotionless sociopath!” Hermione spat. “One of us does care about what happens to our daughters!”
Voldemort felt a deadly calm settle within him. Without a word, he grabbed Hermione’s wrist and dragged her up to their bedroom. She tried to pull her wrist free, but at least she had enough sense not to start screaming at him. He didn’t want Alexandra to come out. That would complicate things.
Once inside their bedroom with the permanent Silencing Charm on it, he let go of her. Hermione rubbed her wrist, glaring at him with anger. They had been married far too long for her to fear him any longer. Well, that could always change.
“I care a great deal about what happens to our daughters, Hermione,” Voldemort said softly. “I want Althea home as much as you do. But I refuse to let my emotions get the better of me, and neither should you. Getting her back from the fairies will be hard. If you’re going to run around and be hysterical the entire time, then tell me now, so I can lock you in until this is over.”
Hermione withdrew her wand. He did the same.
“Don’t you dare try to tell me what I should feel, Voldemort,” she spat, tears running down her cheeks. “You could not even imagine the kind of hell I’m experiencing right now, because you don’t love our daughters.”
He blocked the first spell she fired, surprised by the power of it. He jumped up on the bed so he could attack her from the side. He didn’t want to hurt her … yet. Just disarm her.
She deflected his stunning spell and marched up to the bed, firing spells without taking a breather. He didn’t even have time to recognise most of them, but he became increasingly worried by the fire in her eyes and the fierceness of the spells.
“Crucio,” she finally whispered when she was a mere yard away from him.
Voldemort dove off the bed, the curse missing him by a mere inch.
“Hermione!” he growled, getting angry. He shouldn’t have duelled so much with her in the past. She knew him too well and knew what to expect. He usually knew what to expect from her as well, but this was not her usual pattern.
She was taking it all out on him, he realised as he had to roll over to dodge another curse. She clearly had quite a bit of unresolved issues she was working her way through. Boy, didn’t he feel special.
He slashed his wand in her direction, but she jumped aside, throwing her own curse, which hit him. He screamed at the intensity of the Cruciatus Curse, not having experienced anything similar to it for half a century. Every single nerve felt as if they were on fire, and he couldn’t even think from the pain. All he wanted was for it to stop.
He didn’t know how long it lasted, but it was long enough for his voice to become hoarse. Was she going to kill him? He couldn’t die! He didn’t want to die!
Thankfully, the curse ended. From a distance, he heard Hermione’s hysterical cry. She lay down next to him and embraced him, crying into his chest.
Voldemort trembled from the after-effects of the curse, but he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. A part of him was relieved she had ended it. Another, much bigger part wanted to reach for his wand and curse her. But he didn’t have the energy. He would curse her in a moment.
The rational part of his mind knew that she had needed to get it out of her system. It was good that she had. She would be of no use to him until she had got over the pain and fear. Now, she would be back to her own collected self, and they could get to work. However, he would have been much happier if she had taken it out on someone else. Preferably Potter.
He didn’t know how long it took for him to stop trembling, but it happened around the same time it took for Hermione to stop crying. For a moment, they just lay together. His hand came up on her face, and he weakly brushed away her hair from her wet cheeks.
“I could kill you for this,” he said, his voice hoarse from all the screaming.
She smiled sadly. “No, you can’t.” Her voice was thick from crying. “You can’t be sure it won’t kill you, too, like the Alpertons said.”
He smiled. “But you will pay.”
She sighed. “I know. I know you. What do you plan on doing?”
“For people to believe that the ‘real’ Voldemort framed me so he could get the Ministry off his back, something else has to actually happen. Now, I feel in the mood for a massacre. Thanks to you.” He leaned closer and kissed her forehead.
She stiffened. He knew how much she hated it when he hurt others. It was a most fitting punishment, which he would enjoy greatly.
“I should have let you rot in prison,” she muttered. He knew they would have an argument about it later. But right now, she sounded too tired for it.
He kissed her forehead again. Now that he had got over the worst of the Cruciatus, all the magic she had forced on him was starting to make him horny.
“Let’s have sex in the bathtub,” he said. The Cruciatus made him sweat like crazy, and he still needed to wash away the disgusting feeling of the holding cell.
He sat up, groaning. His muscles were still cramping up a bit, but he ignored it. Some healing potion in the water would make him feel much better.
Hermione sat up as well. “What about Althea?”
“We will find her. First, however, we have to get a plan on how to deal with the fairies. Just grabbing Althea and making a run for it won’t work. We need to make sure they can’t take her again.”
“Yes, I get that. And I want to kill them as much as you do. But what could we possibly do to them? They aren’t exactly on this plane of existence,” Hermione objected.
“We are going to find out what to do to them after we have raided Merlin’s tomb,” Voldemort replied and rose to a standing position, helping her up as well. “He was the one to banish them in the first place. I’m sure we’ll find more information about them in his tomb.”
“Oh, right, because Merlin’s tomb is just something you can visit whenever you like,” Hermione said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was thinking we should get our daughter back before she becomes wrinkled and grey.”
“Well, I happen to know exactly where it is. The only problem is getting there. Good thing is that both of us have managed to do it before,” he answered, ignoring her sarcasm.
“Done what, exactly?” she asked, sounding like she didn’t believe him.
“Why, broken into Gringotts, of course.”
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