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

Chapter List
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They arrived at a castle. “Where are we?”

            “Someplace no one can find you. Now you both need rest. This bedroom will be yours. Get some sleep. Then we’ll try to restore Voldemort’s magic.”

            “You can do that?” Hermione looked at her, surprised.

            “We think so. Congratulations on your pregnancy, by the way. Now you both go to sleep. You’re exhausted. We’ll feed you too.”

            She left the room and Voldemort stripped down to his boxers, watching as Hermione stripped down to her underwear. She wore his t-shirt to cover her breasts before crawling into bed with him and falling asleep.

            Both of them slept easily, and when they woke it was to two Muses running their hands above Voldemort’s body back and forth; almost as though they were scanning him. “What’s going on?”

            “They’re trying to find his magic.”

            “But the potion removed it.”

            “The potion only hides it. The magic is moved to a random location in your body. If we find it, then if we can make him exude magical energy we can restore it to him.”

            “How do…oh.” Hermione realized they meant having sex. She didn’t want an audience, but she would do anything to help him so that he wouldn’t be helpless. “Why did you help us?”

            “As I said, the International Magic Community asked me. They learned about what had happened to Voldemort and they asked us to get involved. England has shot itself in the face. He will never be executed now.”

            “Why not?” Voldemort asked, which surprised Hermione. She thought he knew everything.

            “They stripped your magic, stuffed you in a prison, then afterwards gave you a trial and decided to kill you. That violates International Law. Europe is very annoyed with England now. It does not bode well for them. They have made Europe look bad, and now the Americas, Asia, Africa, and Australia are all enraged at them. Europe will punish those that permitted such a travesty of justice.”

            “We found the core,” one of the Muses said.

            Voldemort looked at Hermione, “I know you’ve never been nude in front of anyone but me…”

            “If it will help you, I’ll do it,” she said.

            “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her. Hermione held him against her as he reached to push her underwear down, “I want to play with your breasts, my love,” he mumbled, pulling away to remove the t-shirt she wore. “So perfect. You are the definition of beauty, my lioness,” he kissed her hungrily and Hermione moaned into his mouth, pushing his boxers down to stroke him.

            “Voldemort,” she gasped as he sucked on her neck, “oh Voldemort…” Hermione’s head fell back and he entered her swiftly, nibbling on her neck as he began to thrust.

            Melpomene was impressed. The magic that they were creating was very powerful. And he couldn’t even access his magic. These two people had a connection unlike any mortal couple she’d ever witnessed before. Looking at Hermione, she began to wonder…perhaps the girl was no mere mortal. She could see that she was pushing the magic back into Voldemort….well she wasn’t a succubus, then. Hmm…this made things very interesting. She would have to do some tests later.

            When they climaxed the couple cried out before kissing deeply. Voldemort’s body wracked in an orgasmic spasm before collapsing on top of hers. “My Hermione,” he whispered, caressing her cheek. “All mine.”

            “While you’re adorable we need to know if it worked. Voldemort, levitate these clothes,” Melpomene lifted up a pile of clothes, “move them to the bed. Then we’ll let you both get changed.”

            “I don’t have a wand,” he said. Two Muses brought over a wand box, which he opened. It looked like his first wand. “How…”

            “We repaired it for you. Now cast the spell.” He did, and the clothes moved to the bed before he removed the spell and they dropped onto it. “Excellent, now the both of you will get dressed and join me. Delegates from the IMC will be arriving shortly.” Melpomene and the Muses left the room.

            “You finally have your magic back,” Hermione smiled.

            He caressed her cheek, “And I’m still alive.”

            “Yes you are,” she whispered, kissing him, “I love you.”

            “I love you too,” he responded, his hand moving over her stomach. “And I’ll love this baby too.”

            “I just hope you can be in their life. As a father. I won’t be able to return to England anytime soon. Not now that everyone will figure it out.”

            “You could have stayed,” he said, handing her the clothes that were for her.

            “No I couldn’t have,” she shook her head. “I’ve been in too deep from the beginning.”

            He had to admit, that was true. Hermione had been surprised when he’d admitted his desire for her, but then it had been clear that her own feelings had developed; perhaps even faster than his own had.

            Once dressed the couple headed downstairs, led by a Muse; they entered a large room to see several wizards and witches standing around. Hermione’s grip on Voldemort’s hand tightened. “Ahh, Mr. Ridd-”

            “Call me Voldemort, please,” he said.

            “I am Kalvin Durant Delacroix, the French Delegate to the IMC,” he bowed to Hermione, “it is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. You have a grand future ahead.”

            “Thank you,” she said.

            “If you will sit down, we will begin. My colleagues have elected me to lead this hearing.”

            “A hearing?”

            “Yes, please sit.” Voldemort and Hermione sat down next to each other, still holding hands. “Now, England has broken several major human rights violations. Your crimes, though vast, cannot be punished. However, we must figure out what to do. Obviously returning to England would be…difficult.”

            “Near impossible,” Voldemort nodded.

            “Exactly. And thusly we have a problem. The IMC will of course deal with England, they will be punished. Now the matter comes to what do we do with you.”

            “Which is?” Hermione tilted her head, curious.

            “Excuse me,” A young blonde woman spoke up, “I am Roxie Pizana; I represent North America. I’d like to introduce Tau Motaung, he represents Southern Africa, and this is Toshi Saito, who represents Asia.”

            “Ms. Pizana,” Delacroix began, but she cut him off.

            “Quite frankly, the many countries we represent are furious with Europe right now as a whole, no matter where the blame belongs. We do not feel comfortable with Europe making any decisions.”

            Voldemort had tortured many men and women. None had ever looked as frightened and nervous as Delacroix. How deep had England sunk Europe? “If I may ask, what is the punishment for doing what England did?”

            Tau Motaung answered, and Voldemort realized he was South African when he spoke, “They will have a government put in place chosen by the IMC. Whether it is by European delegates or delegates from around the world remains to be seen.”

            “I’ve never heard of the IMC before,” Hermione said. “Never even read about it. Is it like the United Nations?”

            “But with power,” Saito nodded, “You are Muggleborn, Miss Granger?” She nodded and he smiled, “I am as well. But yes, that’s a good comparison. We have delegates for each country, and then these delegates choose others to represent the region. Dr. Delacroix represents all of Europe.” Well, that certainly explained why the Frenchman was so nervous.

            Hermione shifted to sit closer to Voldemort, who just pulled her into his lap, “I’m not letting you go,” he whispered.

            “Good,” she kissed his cheek.

            “Voldemort cannot be tried for his crimes,” Pizana said, “so punishment is not going to happen. England, however, will be placed under parliamentary control by three European nations and two other countries to be chosen by my associates and myself. They’ll be controlled for many years.”

            “I don’t really want to leave England,” Hermione said. “My family is there.”

            “It’s not safe for you to return; there will be backlash.”

            Voldemort lowered his head. “I don’t want Hermione to lose her friends and family because of me.”

            “You’re not getting rid of me,” she said to him, caressing his cheek. “But thank you for caring.”

            “You could stay in France,” Delacroix offered.

            “France wants me?”

            “Did Miss Granger inform you that your book is the #1 international bestselling book of the century?”

            Voldemort looked at Hermione, “You told me you just wanted it published. I put all of the money you’ve made off of it into a vault for me and the baby.”

            He squeezed her, “I could have transferred my money to your name.”

            “I didn’t want to ask,” she said, laying her head on his chest and yawning.

            “You both need sleep. Go upstairs,” Melpomene ordered.

            He looked at Hermione, who looked ready to fall asleep again. “That sounds like a good idea.” He stood, lifting Hermione up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder.
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Death Row