Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Precious Mudblood	By : magentasouth Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 79302 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from any part of the Harry Potter universe

Chapter List
- 1-Precious Mudblood
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-Ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 6-Ch 6
- 7-Ch 7
- 8-ch 8
- 9-Ch 9
- 10-Ch 10
- 11-Ch 11
- 12-Ch 12
- 13-Ch 13
- 14-Ch 14
- 15-Ch 15
- 16-Ch 16
- 17-Ch 17
- 18-Ch 18
- 19-Ch 19
- 20-Ch 20
- 21-Ch 21
- 22-Ch 22
- 23-Ch 23
- 24-Ch 24
- 25-Ch 25
- 26-Ch 26
- 27-Ch 27
- 28-Ch 28
- 29-Ch 29
- 30-Ch 30
- 31-Ch 31
- 32-Ch 32
- 33-Ch 33
- 34-Ch 34
- 35-Ch 35
- 36-Ch 36
- 37-Ch 37
- 38-Ch 38
- 39-Ch 39
- 40-Ch 40
- 41-Ch 41
- 42-Ch 42 (edited. longer)
- 43-Ch 43
- 44-Ch 44
- 45-Ch 45
- 46-Ch 46
- 47-Ch 47
- 48-Ch 48
- 49-Ch 49
- 50-Ch 50
- 51-Ch 51
- 52-Ch 52
- 53-Ch 53
- 54-Ch 54
- 55-Ch 55
- 56-Ch 56
- 57-Ch 57
- 58-Ch 58
- 59-Ch 59
- 60-Ch 60
- 61-Ch 61
- 62-Ch 62
- 63-Ch 63
- 64-Ch 64
- 65-Ch 65
- 66-Ch 67
- 67-Ch 67
- 68-Ch 68
- 69-Ch 69
- 70-Ch 70
- 71-Ch 71
- 72-Ch 72
- 73-Ch 73
- 74-Ch 74
- 75-Ch 75
- 76-Chapter 76
- 77-Ch 77
- 78-Ch 78
- 79-Ch 79
- 80-Ch 80
- 6
- 7
- 8
Hermione stood, hesitatingly, unsure what to think.

That was just ridiculous!�
If he had never tried to kill Harry in the first place then Harry
wouldn�t have become �The Boy Who Lived� and his entire life wouldn�t have
revolved around destroying Lord Voldemort.�

Her mind piped up unhelpfully. �It still might have.� Dumbledore was protecting Lilly and James Potter
because they had defied the Dark Lord three times.�

She argued: but Neville�s parents had too, and surely there were dozens,
hundreds of other couples having children who upset Lord Voldemort three
times!�

It didnt sound
plausible even to her.�

No� it was
clearly one of two families in question.�

If Voldemort hadn�t attacked Harry�s parents, Professor Dumbledore would
probably just have taken both Harry and
Neville under his wing and shaped them against the Dark Lord.�

Losing his parents had been horrible and traumatic,
particularly because he had had to live with the nasty abusive Dursleys.�

She prickled.�

That had always bothered her.� Dumbledore
and Professor McGonagall and even Hagrid had always
known that they had left Harry with terrible people who would hurt him and they
did it anyway.�

They could have placed him ANYWHERE in the muggle world and simply used high
level wards and he would likely have been just as safe.�

Or.. at the very least they
could have monitored his aunt and
uncle�s behaviour.�

She had always had a sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore had
done in on purpose.� She thought again,
briefly, about Neville � he had been left with his grandmother after Bellatrix
had cruciated his parents into mindlessness.�

Had there been nowhere else he might have gone but to that
bitter domineering old woman who had terrorised and terrified him as a
child?�

Perhaps Harry and Neville were intentionally placed in
circumstances that would traumatize them and foster the seed of true hate for
the one they could hold responsible for their suffering, for the loss of their
happy home, the Dark Lord.�

But that was speculation.� She moved
on.�

So � to leave Harry and Neville alone might have removed
that particular trauma from their lives but both their families had fought
bravely against Lord Voldemort and they would have raised them to battle him in
any case if they had lived.�

Ok.. so
she could perhaps see at least a little why Voldemort might have tried to
attack the children.� They were weak at
that age and he didn�t have a lot to gain by waiting.�

He hadn�t tried to skin Harry or use him for potions ingredients. He had just
tried to Avada him. (just?!). it
was a rather businesslike act, horrible because it was enacted upon a tiny
child, but perhaps swift and merciless because
Voldemort feared him...�

this idea led invariably on.. Voldemort
obviously fears death.�

A LOT.�

More than anything else.

Maybe it is the only thing he fears.�

And now he is apparently mortal.� That has to be quite disappointing for
him.�� Hermione wandered across to the
fireside and sat herself in the chair that allowed her to keep the door to the
room in her view.

Some hours later, to judge by the quality of the light
outside her window, Hermione was quite frustrated and annoyed.�

She had tried her hardest to put herself in the place of someone who was
overpoweringly afraid of death and who had experienced many times how well laid
plans were frustrated and destroyed by the influence of others or by small
random events.�

She just couldn�t think of a way to suggest Lord Voldemort should have let Harry
live that didn�t offend some aspect of her logic.�

She had looked at all kinds of alternatives, reanimation, obliviation, removal of his magic, imprisonment in some
unbreakable fortress, unbreakable vows etc etc.. but while Harry remained in some
form or other existent on the planet, the prophesy still held.

The threat remained, however improbable.�

Many improbable things happened in the wizarding world every single day.� Magic was tricky.�

She had to concede that had she BEEN Voldemort, in that
second, with his fears and tendencies, according to her logic she would
probably have done the same thing.� Even
down to the method.� It was a peaceful
death, even humane. Dignified.� There was little risk of something going wrong
or backfiring.�

She was infuriated at herself.� There must BE a way in which the stupid
bloody prophesy could be met and Harry could live.�

�well obviously� her mind supplied
helpfully.� �Lord Voldemort could have
died.� Then Harry could have lived.��

She growled and pushed herself up from the chair.�

�Stupid idiotic thought exercise.��

She stalked around the room, glaring at everything for being
so irritatingly calming and refined around her.

�Divination is a woolly
subject anyway.� If everyone hadn�t put
so much stock in what stupid old Trelawney had babbled in her semi permanent
gin hazed stupor then everything would have been a lot better.��

She eyed the hulking wooden wardrobe and stamped up to it,
tearing the door open and peering inside.�
The inside of the door it seemed contained an embedded mirror and for
the first time in.. well.. since before the battle.. gosh.. a good while
before the battle actually - they had been on the run for a long time - she saw
her reflection.�

Her face was much thinner than she had it in memory, her
cheeks hollowed and her cheekbones more prominent.�

Her hair was darker and longer and the extra length had made it more wavy than
frizzy.� It was beginning to grow a
little greasy she noted. She had last used a washing charm on it a day before
the battle.��

The black woollen robe she wore hung from her shoulders and she had the strong
impression that she had lost quite a lot of weight since she and Harry and Ron
had left the burrow on their extended camping trip in the forest of Dean.�

..The burrow.. Ron..�

Guilt twinged through her.� She hadn�t even asked about Ron.� ..or Ginny..� Or any of
the Weasleys really, she supposed.

She hadn�t been that close to Ginny, although she had
tried.� She always had the faint
underlying impression that Ginny resented her for being around Harry. Whenever
she could she would take Harry off away from Ron and Hermione to be alone with
him.�

Perhaps that was understandable, what with the situation and Harry�s fate and
all.�

Or maybe sometimes she was just trying to give Ron time alone with Hermione.. but she didnt
think so.

The way she had caught Ginny looking
at her sometimes, It had felt more like a subtle
possessive jealousy.�

Ron on the other hand.. She and Ron
had been having problems for a while and really, it just irritated her usually
to think about him too much. She would end up angry with him, angry with
herself.. it was easier to
put the thoughts out of her mind and just get on with things.�

It wasn�t that he had left her..after
kissing her - and telling her that he was in love with her no less.. and returned to
that catty saccharine false, brainless..�
she growled.�
To lav lav anyway.��
That wasn�t it.�

Although that had hurt.�

a lot!�

It wasn�t even the fact that Ron had just abandoned her and Harry in the forest of
Dean and run off home to mummy for a hot meal because he couldn�t handle taking
his turn to mind the horcrux that everyone
had been feeling horrid about, not just him. �He had just left that nasty job to Harry and
her and sauntered off to comfort.�

And then when he suddenly came back
they were supposed to treat him like the reigning champion, the hero that had
saved them both!�

Aargh.� It was just TOO
MUCH.�

That prat!�

She could see herself scowling blackly in the mirror, her
eyes narrowed.�

It wasn�t even THAT, although that was a strong indicator of the real underlying
problems with Ron.�

It was just his.. his.. RONness.. the way that he didnt even try to understand the perspective of ANYONE else
in the world, the way he chewed with his mouth open even though she had asked
him politely a thousand times not to, the way he would just ridicule something she considered
meaningful right in front of her, often in the middle of a crowded room, and
then act all wide eyed and innocent if she got hurt or angry.��

He would constantly draw attention to her faults, compare her unfavourably with
practically anybody, he never appreciated anything
anyone ever did for him, he was JEALOUS �of Harry, �of all the ridiculous
petty despicable little...

She tried to calm down.�

This was why she tried not to think of Ron too much these
days.�

On top of all of his other..myriad ..serious..flaws - he had had the nerve to suggest to her that one day,
after he had finished messing around with lavender, or someone else, they would
get married. �

He hadn�t even asked � he�d just asserted it.�

She snorted.

As if he would come back and she would have SO little else to do with her
pointless pathetic life that she would be waiting there faithfully to run into
his arms and let him lock her in a house and produce dozens of squealing red
headed brats and cook and clean and knit ugly
sweaters for people.�

..oooh.. she
just HATED him.��

She knew she shouldn�t.�
It was cruel.� He probably didnt know better.�
He couldn�t help being the way he was.�
Harry wouldn�t like it if she didnt make an
effort to.. she stopped.�

Harry wouldn�t like it.�

She sighed.�

She had a sneaking suspicion that Ron did
know better and that he was simply a selfish ignorant git.� ..and what Harry
wouldn�t like hardly mattered now did
it..��

She let her head drop.�
Harry..� She had loved him so much!� He couldn�t really
be gone, surely.� She could still feel
him. There was still a little spot inside her that said Harry on it.�

Surely if he were gone, that little place would disappear too.��

For a while she had thought that she had a crush on Harry.�

It hadn�t lasted very long and had been more confusing than
anything else.�

Eventually she had realised that what she felt for Harry was more than just fancying him.� She admired
him.�

He had been through so much.� People had
been so cruel to him � and he had remained a thoroughly good person.�

He would have given the shirt off his back to help a complete stranger.�

He was rowdy and loud and full of laughs with everyone but
he was actually a very quiet person.� He
spent a lot of time just walking or sitting by himself and thinking.� He had wanted nothing more than to have a
normal life.� ��

She couldn�t help but contrast this to the idea of him being some kind of �distorted
mirror� as Voldemort had called him.� Tom
Riddle had never wanted a normal
life.�

No.. he had wanted to
conquer..well.. to conquer
absolutely everything really.� Even death.� Especially death.�

Harry and Tom Riddle were so different to one another. ��Harry hadn�t even really had the chance to
have a life.� It was so unfair.� Because Tom Riddle wanted more, Harry had to
pay with his life.

She shook her head.�
This kind of thinking wasn�t conducive to her welfare in the world she
apparently lived in now.�

If she was sensible about it, she realised that she was going to end up helping Voldemort to fix
his soul, for whatever reason.�

If she didn�t just agree to do it, he�d find some way to make her and was that really necessary?!� It was like the Bella girl with Rodolphus.� If she tried
to deny the Dark Lord, it would just be a world of hurt until she
relented.�

He wasn�t just going to turn around and say � oh you don�t want to?� Oh.. ok.. well I�ll just send you on
your way then.�

She stared blankly at the clothes inside the wardrobe.

There were silks and satins and velvets and crepes and all the colours of the
rainbow.

They would of course all fit perfectly, she knew somehow. �

Scowling faintly she selected a grey raw silk robe which
hung draped over a silver satin sheath dress,� It didnt
really matter what she wore.� Today was
not a day for bright colours.�

She closed the wardrobe and tossed the clothing onto her
bed, then walked to and opened the door to the bathroom and was only faintly
dismayed to find it painfully..ostentatiously..palacial.�

It was a large room, almost half the size of the room outside and� housed a �square �partially raised bath like a small swimming
pool, with copious taps and buttons gathered at one corner, a shower large
enough to comfortably fit four with glass walls and a shelf in the wall at
waist height upon which stood some bottles.�

There was a toilet, bidet and vanity but neither those features nor the
generous size were the startling part.�

Laid in seamless black slate walls and white marble floors
with golden veins, the bathroom appeared to lack a ceiling altogether.� The sky was visible overhead, clouds sailing
gently overhead, the effect similar to that in the great hall of Hogwarts.�

In the bathroom however she could not help experiencing a small feeling of
discomfort at the openness. It was like a giant might suddenly appear, bending
over and peering in while she was in the bath.�

This was a naked place.� It shouldn�t be open to the air like
this.�

She knew it was just an effect � there was an actual ceiling under the spell
and nobody could possibly see in, but the feeling was there nonetheless.� She would have to get used to it, she
supposed. �

She decided to shower.�
She would figure out the bath and its many fixtures another time.�

Turning in circles under the streaming water, Her mind
unwinding in bliss she thought to herself� �Wonderful wonderful hot water!� Oh how I love thee!� There was nothing better
in the world than a hot shower.�

You didnt appreciate these things
till you suddenly couldn�t have them anymore.�

Scourgifys had been the easiest
option on the run. They left you clean but somehow they didn�t leave you feeling clean.� Washing in lakes and streams was even worse,
as it was always difficult to modify the temperature of the water to anything
other than teeth-clackingly icy.�

An aquamenti spell was easier to manage and she could
have something resembling a hot shower that way but it was more like trying to
wash yourself with a water pistol.� Even
if filled with warm water.�

This though, this
was heavenly.�

The stream was wide and full, with the perfect
pressure.� The water had a faint scent of
jasmine, just enough to be pleasant.��

On the shelf next to her, back out of the water, she inspected the three
bottles.� She recognised the spidery tilt
of her Professor�s handwriting.� They
were extremely straightforward.�

One read �Soap�; The
next �Shampoo�; the last �against mares nest�. ��She smirked wryly.��

After she had finished and was wrapping the extraordinarily
fluffy towel around herself, tucking it under her arm she experienced the first
really painful twang of missing her wand.�
Her hair was dripping down her back and at this length it was going to
take hours to dry without a drying
charm.�

She doubted Voldemort would give her her wand back
just so that she could dry her hair.� Perhaps
she could persuade him to give her a hairdryer or perhaps she could ask the elf
dilly to help her somehow.�

She padded, dripping slightly to the bed and regarded the clothes
she had set aside.�

Underwear?�

Turning, she opened and inspected the wardrobe further and found behind the
other door several shelves, one of which held a vast array of matching lingerie
sets.� It was all rather delicate and
extravagant.�

She frowned at them slightly, pulled out a silver and white set and tossed them
on the bed, stockings from the next shelf and at the bottom she found grey silk
flats and tossed those out too onto the floor next to the bed.�

She turned and was just unwrapping
her towel to dress when a polite cough startled her.�

She whirled and made to draw her wand, which was obviously
impossible as she was in a towel and had
no wand.�

Professor Snape observed her coolly from the chair by the
fire, his hands steepled in front of him.� Hermione watched as his eyes slid languidly
down her body and back up.�

She blushed, her hands going to the towel and holding it at
the tuck, as if afraid that the weight of his gaze would sent
it fluttering to the floor.

He smirked and rose from the chair with almost preternatural grace, placing his
hands behind his back and gliding over to her until he was standing just a
fraction too close to her;�
marginally invading her personal space.�

He was very tall.�

Even in his apparently relaxed state in this place he dressed in severe black
frock coats with unreasonable numbers of buttons.� His hooded appraisal pinned her.�

�The Dark Lord informs me that you are in need of further
healing.� A burn, I believe?� His eyes
flicked to the tail of the angry red stripe that peeked above the towel and
snaked up her shoulder and flicked back to her face, his expression revealing
nothing.

She squirmed slightly.�
�Yes.� But its
not so bad.� It doesn�t even hurt
anymore.�� If you give me some burn salve
I�m sure I�ll live.� �

Professor Snape appeared to inspect the flaring red puckered
skin.�

�It is a magical burn, Miss Granger.� The application of simple burn salve alone may
not be sufficient to heal it.� Some of
the more advanced salves are a more likely prospect,
however these require incantation during application.�

You will not be able to apply them yourself. Do you happen to know what spell
was cast?�

She shook her head silently.

�It doesn�t matter if the burn salve doesn�t heal it though.
�Its just a
scar. It isn�t the end of the world.�

Professor Snape�s eyes glittered down at her like black
jewels, leaving no hint of his thoughts. �

�Nonsense, Miss Granger. There is no excuse to carry a scar for the rest of
your life when it can be remedied.� In
addition, the Dark Lord has instructed
me to examine you.� I would be foolish to
disregard his wishes.��

Professor Snape�s tone was neutral but the implication hung
in the air �you would be foolish to
disregard his wishes�.�

�Fine� she said, uncomfortably. �What do you want me to do?�

He gestured toward the bed with pale extended fingers.� �Perhaps you might..lie
down..and we will see what might be done� he tilted
his head slightly, inquisitively.�

She realised she was looking into his eyes and averted her
gaze quickly.� �..Okay� she said, unable
to really see a way to avoid it.� This
was like a fantasy gone sideways.�

The idea of professor Snape catching
her in a towel and encouraging her to lie down so that he could remove said
towel and put his hands on her body was something that, in principle, she could
find incredibly arousing.�

The actual reality of professor Snape
was overwhelming on the other hand.� Like
the Dark Lord, but with less of the frightening threatening part and more
emphasis on that dark dangerous glittering power they both exuded.�

Although.. she
debated.. was Professor Snape threatening?� She was intimidated by him, certainly.� Felt out of her depth around him.� His mind was so quick and hidden that he left
her feeling slow and clumsy.�

She moved the clothing to the bottom of the bed neatly and
laid herself down on the coverlet.� Professor
Snape followed her, a step behind and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next
to her, looking down on her.��

She was interested to note that this view of him was even more appealing when it wasn�t the Dark Lord�s bed she was
reclining upon.�

He leaned down toward her slightly, his hand reaching for
the towel... for a moment his eyes appeared heated, even hungry, but then it
was gone and he was distant, clinical.�

She held her breath as his fingers brushed her skin, delving under the edge of
the towel and lifting it, his other hand reaching to unwrap
her fully till she lay open before him.�

She felt her breathing become shallower as he cast his eyes
over her.� Not merely over her burn, his
eyes swept across every inch of her exposed skin, taking her in.� He swallowed.�

She shivered suddenly and his eyes darted to her face almost guiltily.�

�You are.. exquisite..
Miss Granger.� He pronounced softly, his voice raw.�

He appeared to collect himself and became once again focused and clinical,
inspecting her burn carefully.�

She was stunned.� What
just happened?� Professor Snape found her
appealing!� Such things weren�t
possible.�

She tried not to tremble.�

Forced herself not to say any of the things that wanted to
burst from her lips.� If she said
anything now to ruin this and make him go away before he placed his beautiful
hands upon her she didn�t think she would ever forgive herself.�

She gasped.

Professor Snape was running a pale slender finger down the
line of her burn.�

His finger moved down her shoulder and over her breast
silkily.� The sensation of his cold
finger both soothed and stung her flesh.�

It was intensely, unbearably arousing.

Her heart sped.� She
heard herself whimper faintly, her breath shallow.�

His eyes flicked up at her, blatant heat in them now.� �do you like that, Miss Granger?� he enquired
coolly, his finger travelling more slowly down the burn as it passed onto the
lower curve of her breast.

Unexpectedly he left the path of the scar to trace the underside of her
breast.� Her hardening nipples jolted to
attention almost painfully and she shuddered.�

�It appears you do.. ��

He appeared to wage an internal war.� His finger was wandering feather light up the
outer curve of her breast and she had the impression that he was struggling
with restraint.�

He withdrew his finger and drew back with the mien of a man
winning against temptation unhappily.�

�Do you know, Miss
Granger, how the Dark Lord corrected Lestrange for
his �inappropriate� behaviour toward your person?� Professor Snape�s eyes were
empty again and betrayed nothing but a polite interest.�

Hermione was still burning and didn�t want to know.� She suspected it was something horrid but she
didn�t want to hear it. She wanted professor Snape to touch her again.� She had wanted him for so long! ��

�he was really rather irate.� Even for Him.� If he didn�t need the man quite so much, I
suspect he would have killed him.��

�Professor..� Hermione whispered
pleadingly.�

Professor Snape did not look at her and continued in an
emotionless voice.�

�For the sake of your complete edification into the nature of
..cause and effect.. The Dark Lord held Lestrange
under the cruciatus on and off for several hours,
quite unmoved by his desperate begging and pleading.� ...And I assure you that Rodolphus
is not a man moved easily to begging.��

�He continued to curse him long after he had become silent
and unresponsive. Even after he started to bleed from the nose, eyes and ears, the
Dark Lord did not relent.� Only when
another matter required his attention did he stop.� But he did not simply leave him to bleed on
the floor of the great hall... �No... he
cast an exsanguination hex and drained him nearly to
the point of death, then conjured a silver crate and tossed him in, sealing it
before he left.��

Hermione blinked, stunned.�
�Rodolphus!� He had only kissed her.� Was it so bad?� Lord Voldemort had even specifically given
him permission to mess with her before he sent them off! �

�I cannot begin to imagine how painful that must have been..� Professor Snapes voice sounded
slightly dreamy.� �because even though he
had not responded at all to the cruciatus for at least an hour by that point - �he was that
far gone Miss Granger � Nevertheless, when I left the great hall I could hear him
again screaming uncontrollably within that box.�

Hermione had wrapped her arms around herself and was crying
softly.� �I didn�t know� she
managed.� �When he said he�d disciplined
him i thought he meant he�d cruciated him once or
twice, like he did me.� I mean.. it was horrible but i thought he would be fine � that he�d probably be used to
it by now.��

�No one is ever used
to the cruciatus curse, Miss Granger.� Especially not when it is wielded by the Dark Lord.� And from his comments to me this morning he held
it on you for a matter of seconds only.��

�Oh god..� she moaned.� �is Rodolphus still in the box? What will happen to him?� Will he be ok?� He didn�t deserve it.� I�m so sorry!!� I won�t talk to him again.� I didn�t know..��

�Hush.� Professor Snape commanded.� �I don�t think anyone knew.� Least of all Lestrange, or I assume he
would not be in his current position. The Dark Lord can be quite mercurial at
times.� He did not make it immediately
apparent to anyone that you were not simply another prisoner here.�

However it is apparent now that you
are his.� You will not be touched.�

He looked down at her guiltily.

�If i had any sense I would obliviate you and leave.�
I can instruct the Dark Lord in which incantation to employ when he
applies the salve..�

Hermione jerked as though slapped.

�What do you mean, I�m his?!� What exactly does that mean, Professor.� Terror rose on her face
like the sun rising.� �Instruct the Dark
Lord in how to apply the salve?!� Oh god.. no please! Professor, don�t
leave me.� D-Don�t..don�t..
let him..� I
don�t want..�

She collapsed into sobbing, turning and curling into a fetal
position around him.�

�What does that mean?.. that
can�t be right.. Why?!�

Professor Snape did not touch her or offer her a shoulder to
cry on.� His face seemed faintly
sorrowful and wistful.�

�I wish I could say, Miss Granger.� I do
not know, at present.� The world has
changed and I cannot help you.� As much
as your suffering moves me, I have no desire to join Rodolphus.��

He stood and stepped away from the bed, turning to look at her once more as she
held herself.�

He tilted his head to study her face.� �You should wash your face and dress.� He will be irritated to find you this way.�
He flicked his wand and she felt a drying charm on her hair.�

�Thank you Professor� she whispered.�

�You are most welcome Miss Granger� he returned quietly
before turning and leaving silently.�
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Precious Mudblood