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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.

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Disclaimer : The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I make no profit or money from this submission. Still only own the PC and cat :(

A/N : Dear readers, reviews are the fuel of a writer, they motivate, incite, and stimulate one to keep on delivering. Comments are the encouragement needed by the imagination, to put in words what the 9 muses whisper….

So could you please keep on providing me with my daily dose of fuel? Thank you

Please Read and Review ?

Enjoy.

HM

Chapter 4: Of Black Velvet

‘This is for thoughts’

“This is for dialogue and conversations”

Hermione’s heart was hammering so fast, she felt it was trying to dig a way out of heart chest. For a couple of seconds she stood on the threshold immobilized, her feet not wanting to move forward. A deep-rooted survival instinct was pushing her to turn around and flee. The fight or flight response to danger, embedded in every Homo sapiens was flaring up in every cell of her body. A screeching voice in her head was warning her to be heedful of the impending danger.

‘Run…Run you idiot’. She, for the life of her, could not control her whirring thoughts, much less her statufied body.

The entryway made her pause and realize she’s landed somewhere special and spatial, while the view beyond beckoned.

Her eyes took in the humongous space she was about to step into, like a ballroom that could easily contain a crowd. A plush sliver-gray intermingled with a darker tone of gray carpet covered the whole extent of the floor. The walls where painted white with barely noticeable, and very light undertones of teal-blue. The whole space was organized in areas, each defining its function, by the furniture layout.

There was a massive U shaped conference table, made of dark polished wood, with more than 25 posh black leather seats, neatly arranged around it. On the right part of the room, there was a decent sized bar, facing a sitting area, creating a space that was recreationally functional but elegant at the same time, without looking too industrial and cold.

Dark leather couches and seats surrounded a sizeable coffee table, with half an inch thick polished glass top, with beveled edges, on four slim cylindrical dark wood bases. The space had an open feel to it, a welcoming yet practical and business-like setting. Appropriately placed, in front of the floor to ceiling windows, and to the right, an almost empty big L shaped modern design work station, with some office paraphernalia strewn about. Positioned behind it, a very imposing black rich leather office chair, with bookshelves and cabinets on the right wall parallel to the desk.

The whole space was open and welcoming, yet there was an edge to the quarters’ atmosphere denoting that whomever used the premises meant business. Thus her eyes landed on the man standing in front of the window looking out, five feet away form his desk, with his back turned to them.

Her heart was in her mouth, and a big lump lodged itself in her throat, fighting for space in that tight tube. She was bordering on a panic attack, again! She simply wanted to vanish! To be anywhere but in this “room”.

The man in front of her was big. 6ft 3” tall, with wide muscled trunk, his back stiff and straight enhancing the trim waist, all supported by long solid legs. His arms were folded, she thought as far as she could see, and she also noticed they were wiry yet strong. He was all sinewy, lean, and muscled. Every inch of him conveyed strength, control, and ultimate power.

He looked like an ebony Greek-God sculpture, all shrouded in black. As if living up to his name, the Dark Lord was dressed in skin-tight black trousers, and sweater. His feet were clad in black leather knee-high boots. The only color in all of this black was his bald head skin tone.

She almost let slip a hysterical nervous laugh ‘Oh dear me! Who does he take himself for? Some Superhero?! All he needs is the cape!’

A light push on her shoulder yanked her back to the present ominous situation. All the light which was pouring in from the windows couldn’t dispel the foreboding feeling that was wreaking havoc on her guts.

Draco’s hand persisted, and like a robot, she reflexively stepped in not thinking, focusing simply on her breath, and trying to swallow the lump in her throat, time and again, regardless of how much her mouth felt dry. Step after shuffling step, she dragged herself, with Draco beside her to reach the sitting area.

Both stopped there, and her whole being was aware of an insubstantial current engulfing the entirety of the location. It was akin to kinetic energy; it assaulted her with the strange tingling sensation, like when one is struck by static electricity, but not as acute. Her skin developed goose bumps and she shuddered.

“My Lord, Miss Granger is here.” Draco’s voice regained its humility and deference pitch. Without turning around, the same authoritative and commanding voice, with the velvety tone responded evenly, “Well done young Malfoy. You may leave now to attend to your other duties.”

Hermione shook her head fast, eyes pleading with him not to leave her alone with this monster, “My Lord, Maybe I should wait to take her back to her rooms?” Draco’s voice was almost inaudible when he tried to respond to Hermione’s unarticulated pleas.

Still facing the window, Voldemort answered with a tinge of iciness “Leave us Mr. Malfoy”. Inhaling deeply he murmured ” As you wish my Lord”. Turning towards the door, with a fleeting look at her the young man appeared apologetic. She heard his muffled quick footsteps retreating, and the muted swishing sound of the double-door closing.

“Sit” One word, one syllable, yet so imperious, it grated on her already raw nerves.

‘Sit’! She mimicked in her mind ‘Sit! As if I am a dog!’ She was torn between indignation and terror, and he still did not turn to face her! He was treating her like something so beneath him, whom he doesn’t even need to look at. Still standing, she had trouble moving much less defy him. Yet, in the back recesses of her mind, where her hypothalamus was busy regulating her bodily reactions, and her cerebrum was cautioning her to obey, her Amygdala was making her boil with rage! And the Amygdala won.

“I am not a dog” she seethed.

Deliberately unhurriedly, he turned towards her, still arms folded, a brow less patch of skin arched in disdain. The giant before her smirked, his deep smooth voice carrying his disparaging comment.

“Ah!! Yes, you ‘re a bitch! Sit.” She was looking at his wide muscled chest, ‘his shoulders are wider than Draco’s!’ His derisive words did not register.

She sucked in a breath, seeing the tip of his wand, a 13 1/2" yew wand with a phoenix feather core. Like Harry’s. Their wands shared the same core. This is the wand that murdered Harry’s parents James and Lily Potter, Cedric Diggory, Amelia Bones and countless others…’ She was now shaking uncontrollably, torn between fear, fury, and sadness. Deciding not to aggravate herself, she continued assessing him.

Her eyes moved from the killing wand to his waist, hips and legs, as if drawn there by a magnet. She felt herself flush, and her breathing turned erratic, her palms became sweaty, her body temperature rose all at once. Her skin tingled and she felt a fluttering in her stomach, like hundreds of snitches were let loose inside her abdomen, while an almost forgotten and unused central spot in her pubis throbbed maddeningly.

She forced herself to inhale quietly and deeply, to reign in her physical reactions, she surmised it’s a natural response to her rattled emotions! Her hypothalamus is working fine, maybe a tad overboard? Well, due to circumstances, she should be grateful she’s still able to control her panic.

Deciding to follow on her previous decision to face it all, she looked back up at his face, and realized that he was dissecting every single effect he had on her. At that instant her cheeks couldn’t have gotten redder, while she met his strange golden-yellow irises tinged with blood red streaks, his snake like pupils were like elongated slits. She felt he was looking inside her, all the way through her, finding and determining all her secrets, with an insightful and calculating stare.

She always felt fortunate enough, to never have met him, until the Ministry of Magic imbroglio. She fleetingly glimpsed him there, while dueling with Dumbledore, and then she was hit by Dolohov’s curse. Up until now, she never really knew how he looked like face to face. Seems her luck ran out.

His skin was neither pasty nor grayish, like Harry described. He had common skin tone, with regular manly lips, even if less red than normal. Regardless of the fact that he’s got a flat nose with slits, or rather he's nose free, that would be more accurate, and he’s bald, he did not look that repulsive, or hideous! He was more like a creature from outer space, an alien, unfamiliar but not the monster she thought she would meet.

His ironic smile, confirmed her suspicions, about him using his Legilimency skills and invading her mind. She wanted to wipe his sneer with a slap; but since he was the one with the wand, and would Avada her in no time flat, she supposed it would be wise to reign in her temper, no heroics, at least Draco’s right on this point. Granted it was dangerous, nevertheless, she did not obey his order; sitting would make her feel small, and insignificant, especially in the face of his stature.

“No Matter, both bite.” She deadpanned, looking him square in his reptilian eyes.

At first, she thought she was hearing things, because she’s stressed out, then she heard it clearly. It started like a choked chuckle, as if he was trying to stifle the sound, but it kept going crescendo until a deep, and intensely melodic laughter boomed from his mouth. Oddly, his merry expression was making his features even more sinister. An epic event! The Dark Lord was laughing, and his deep virile laugh wreaked havoc on her body.

Against all odds, she felt weak in the knees, and exhilarated at the same time, warmth spreading through her body and cocooning her in a blanket of safety. Like when she was still a child, her mother used make her sit in her lap and hug her, while reading to her from her favorite fairy-tales book. There was this aching contradictory need in her to cry and smile, she wanted to be embraced, to just be able to loosen up the stiffness of her muscles, and feel the care of a gentle touch.

Her Body was craving human presence and contact.Although she was unconscious, her body detected both the emotional need, and the dissatisfaction of said need. The sum total of two years’ isolation overwhelmed her. When his laughter, as improbable as it may have been, acted like a catalyst, it triggered all those dormant, bottled up emotions. That must be it, she is NOT attracted to him in whatsoever way.

This is only a psychosomatic reaction, and that is it!

Moving from his spot, he unfolded his arms, his wand held firmly in his right hand, his pace slow, gait confident, he drawled while he flicked his wand,

“In time miss Granger, you will come around to recognize that I am a fair and just Master for my pets, whether they are dogs, bitches and many others.”

She suddenly gasped when invisible hands picked her up, moved her to one of the couches, and dropped her unceremoniously, while he continued as if nothing happened,

“ I generously reward them when they obey, and severely punish them when they displease me.”

Hermione was panting and her heart was pounding in her chest. She looked up at him as he stopped in front of her, looked down upon her sprawled shape, with gleeful eyes and whispered, ” Lesson 1“. Her position was absolutely humiliating; she righted herself quickly, and scowled at him, “I’m not interested nor is it any of my business whatsoever how you treat your pets, or should I say what-d'you-call-it …ah! Yes! Servants, minions and cronies.”

‘Godric’s tits! Where is the filter between her brain and mouth?! Is she mental?? Another proof that there’s undetected brain damage!!’ she heard Draco’s voice in the back of her mind, screaming at her, ‘Provoking him you dim-witted girl?! He’ll ruthlessly cruciate the hell out of you, coma or no coma!’

Fearfully she sneaked a peek from between her lashes at his face, to gauge his reaction, but his back was turned while moving to sit down facing her. ‘Everyone thought she’s got a big mouth on her, but now she’s putting her foot in it as well.’

He chuckled and swished his wand again, and an oppressing pressure began to constrict her whole body, as if she was suddenly dumped in the Mariana Trench, and billions of cubic tons of water were pulverize her. In less than 3 seconds she was panicking. Her eyes bulged out, and she couldn’t breathe. She thought she heard her femora snap, and pain shot through like fire.

She screamed not noticing that the pressure was released. All she felt was fire in her thighs. Her hands went reflexively to her thighs, but then, she felt Nothing! The pain disappeared ad fast as it flared. Her legs were uninjured, though she heard her bones snap, and it was painful, and he didn’t use any healing spell, she’d bet her last knut on it!

“Just to make sure you’ve learned your lesson.” he drawled, “let’s recapitulate, shall we?” his tone patronizing,” I reward my pets when they obey, and I punish them when they…” he left the phrase unfinished, waiting for her to continue, arching his brow less, eyebrow.

The insufferable, despicable, evil lowlife, adding insult to her injury. She was fuming, glaring at him with her mouth in thin line, keeping silent, because she was foaming at the mouth, and was afraid she couldn’t control herself and start mouthing off all those epithets that passed through her mind. A very painful stinging hex drew her back to the matter at hand.

“I see, maybe your intelligence was exaggerated, if you cannot learn such a simple concept. I wonder how you got such high marks on your N.E.W.Ts ” he said derisively, with an evil grin on his lips.

Now she was livid, utterly mad. He was deliberately aggravating her, ‘The gall of him’, and she just won’t be able to keep her mouth shut, he’d win the battle and hex her again. NO ! damn it!! She took a deep breath through her nose, exhaled through her mouth, and with a firm voice she asked,

“May I ask what is the spell or spells you used on me just now?”

She yelped when another stinging hex, shocked her, “wrong answer, last chance” he reiterated, leaning back on couch, in a relaxed manner. Placing his right ankle on his left knee, and twirling his wand between his right hand fingers, scrutinizing her with his golden reddish snake eyes. He was toying with her, she knew, just like the animal he’s embodying wait patiently for its prey.

She didn’t want to capitulate to his whims, but this came with a heavy cost to her health. She swallowed her pride and muttered not meeting his eyes“ You generously reward your pets when they obey, and severely punish them when they displease you”.

A sound of slow applause was heard, she looked up to see him sarcastic smile “10 points to Gryffindor, I must say you deserve an Outstanding. You parroted what I said verbatim”

‘Don’t slap him, don’t slap him, don’t slap him, don’t slap him,’ Hermione was almost on her feet ready to scratch his eyes out. And he knew, his gleeful eyes told her he was basking in her annoyance and frustration; he was riling her on purpose.

Her eyes were sparkling with fury, her teeth grinding, jaws locked, she was beautiful in her rage, and ‘he wanted to take her on his knees, spank her pert little behind, until it was smarting red, and then fuck her brains out, but this delectable beauty will have to wait. If he acts rashly, she’d be screaming rape, which would be detrimental to his long-term plans, and more so than ever at the present time, since he needs to earn her trust, haste is not a good strategy. He’s a patient man; good things come to those who wait. In the mean time he’ll be training her, subtly, making sure she would have a higher threshold of pain tolerance and a lower level of pain perception. That’s going to be as pleasurable as finally possessing and Dominating her.’

A shade of red shrouded momentarily his irises; Hermione trembled under his fixed lustful gaze. Here we go again! Her Hypothalamus was in overdrive, what with her ragged breathing, perspiration, rapid heartbeat, adrenal glands working over-time, and particularly this unfamiliar sogginess between her legs. What troubled her was a very minute, but clear detail. Surprisingly it was not from fear, regardless of how similar the reactions were.

She found that her body was reacting oddly in his presence, and she did not like it one bit. Denying that she felt a physical attraction was immature. He is a virile specimen and she is not a frigid woman, she kissed Viktor Krum at the Yule ball, and liked it. There’s nothing revolting or shameful to feel lust or desire, it is a basic instinct. Hence, the distasteful and disgusting part is undoubtedly the answer to the million Galleon question” to whom she was sexually attracted?’.

She reasoned, the best way to pull her mind from the gutter was to focus on something else, so she took the plunge and dared to ask about the main issue at hand, her existence, life and presence in this “Center”.
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Plenitude