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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Hello, hello! Taking a break in my attempt to write an essay about Norse gods to post this. Hope you are all having a wonderful work-free weekend… I’m not jealous if you do. No, not at all. Grr…

Oh, well, my deepest bows and thanks to everyone who have read and reviewed. And huge amounts of cookies and hugs to my betas: Nerys and Serpent-In-Red.

I also got an anon reviewing the story and he/she thought it was unrealistic that Harry didn’t recognise Voldemort. I know it has been over a month since I posted the prologue, but in it, you can read that Voldemort does not look like Tom Riddle. He was well aware that there are still people around who would recognise Tom Riddle. Therefore, he and the fairies made sure that his new body did not look like Tom Riddle. However, there are some similarities, but not many. You’ll read more about his new body in this chapter and I hope that will clear out the misunderstanding!

BEWARE: Smut coming. Don’t like? Don’t read!

Chapter 6
Voldemort lay in the bathtub feeling as content and relaxed as one usually felt after a satisfying orgasm. Of course he was denying that Granger had been in his mind while he’d achieved said orgasm. That would take away the nice and relaxed feeling he was having.
Instead, he focused on all the things in his life that made him happy at the moment. On the top of the list was the fact that not even the “great” Harry Potter had recognised him in this disguise. In fact, the boy had been glad to see him and amazed about his work. Voldemort had only given them that spell because he wanted them to punish his Death Eaters for betraying him, and he knew a lot of the Death Eaters would use potions to hide.
Potter was always a sty in his eye. For such a mediocre wizard, he continuously seemed to find some miraculous way to excel. Now, however, Voldemort thought he knew why. It had taken him longer than he cared to admit to realise that the boy carried one of his Horcruxes. That was what had given Potter his special powers, Voldemort himself. These days, the boy was just like any other wizard, having to survive without any help from a part of Voldemort’s soul. His soul was safely inside his own body again. Of course, he would always be a little extra careful where Potter was concerned, but at last, he knew who was the greater wizard, and that gave him peace of mind.
After staring at the ceiling for quite some time, the water started to get chilly. He got up, washed off and stepped out from the bathtub. He stopped in front of the sink to brush his teeth for the night and caught eye of himself in the mirror.
Even after four years, it still surprised him to see himself like this. He was handsome, of course, but not in the way he was used to. The thick, dark-brown hair had to be kept short if he didn’t want it to get curly, and his eyes were a bit too bright for his taste. Although, he could pull off the best innocent face with them, and that was always good. The best part, however, was this new body. He was just as tall as he had been before, but his shoulders were broader than they had ever been. It was laughably easy to get people to listen to you when you looked like this. This was especially true with heterosexual witches, who were more than happy to grant him small favours now and again. Not that he would actually grant them the privilege of having intercourse with him, oh no. However, a little flirtation got you just as far as a few well-aimed Crucios could, even though it was not as funny. But he didn’t have time to actually have sex. There were more important things in the world, like founding a new power base.
Nevertheless, ever since Granger entered his life again, Voldemort found it a bit more trying to control his … physical urges. This morning, he had finally given in to it by masturbating. He was perfectly sure it would continue to keep his mind clear when he was in Granger’s company.
The next couple of days went by quickly. He had papers to correct from the students who were coming back in the fall. He liked doing it, since it gave him such a brilliant insight into how the students were thinking. That was how he made the selections about whom to invite to his “study-group” and also how they could be of the best use to him. However, it took a longer time than correcting necessarily did, so he made sure to do it when he wouldn’t get disturbed.
On the last day of July, he considered going to see Granger again, but before he had the time, there was a sudden knock on his door. Opening it, he wasn’t all that surprised to see her standing at his doorstep.
She smiled shyly. “Hi, er, I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner?”
He regarded her for a moment. “Have you learned how to cook?”
She blushed, but her eyes narrowed angrily. “Fine, you don’t have to. Forget it.”
She spun around and was about to storm back to her flat when he grabbed her arm.
“I’ll cook, then,” he just said and locked the door behind him.
She seemed a bit annoyed with his attitude. However, when he winked at her, she just rolled her eyes at his arrogance and followed him back to her flat. Althea smiled brightly when he entered. She ran up to him and grabbed the fabric of his trousers.
“Where have you been? I have no one to talk to, and Mum doesn’t understand, and that is boring!”
He chuckled and stroked her hair. “Well, I’m here now. What is it you have wanted to talk about?”
She frowned and let go of his trousers. Then, she shrugged.
He smiled at her. “I’ll be here for a little while, so if you think of anything you want to talk about, just tell me.”
Althea nodded, apparently feeling it was a fair arrangement, and she walked back to where she had been sitting on the floor, drawing pictures.
“What did she say?” Granger asked.
“Just wanted to tell me that she thinks it’s boring that you can’t understand her. But she didn’t know what she’d wanted to talk about when I asked.”
Granger huffed and showed him what she had planned to make for dinner. Voldemort actually didn’t mind cooking. It was empowering to prepare oneself’s food. During his whole childhood and until he finished Hogwarts, he had to rely on someone else making his food for him. At Hogwarts, he hadn’t feared to be poisoned as much as he had at the orphanage, but there was always that nagging suspicion in the back of his head wherever he went. Thankfully, there was always a way to check food for poisons, but he still felt better when he actually made it all from scratch. Then he could feel perfectly safe.
About thirty minutes later, the salmon was ready, and they sat down to eat. Granger cut up the food into smaller pieces for Althea before she started with her own dish. He had never thought about helping the girl first. Then again, it was no secret he was a selfish bastard.
Oh, right, it was.
So, perhaps he should remember that next time.
Althea, it appeared, was more tired than hungry. After Granger managed to get her to eat half her dish, she took Althea to bed.
“She woke up at five this morning and didn’t want to take her nap,” Granger explained when she came back.
“She seems to be a very energetic child,” Voldemort noted.
“She is, but she likes to keep to herself a lot. I don’t know what she is playing when she is alone in the bedroom, but as long as she is happy …” she trailed off with a shrug.
“She does seem happy most of the time. Was it because you wished to talk about her that you invited me over?” he asked, putting the last of the fish in his mouth.
“No, not really,” she replied hesitantly.
He arched an eyebrow and took a sip of his water.
She sighed. “I didn’t invite you over to talk about something special. I just wanted to see if we could do this. I mean, you said you wouldn’t leave. Since you haven’t packed your bags and disappeared yet, I guess I start to believe you. So I just wanted to see … what will happen now.”
“What do you want to happen now?” he asked curiously.
She slowly moved her fork around on her plate. “I’m not sure. I guess it would be good if we could establish some sort of friendship for Althea’s sake.” She grimaced. “That sounded wrong. I didn’t mean I don’t want to be friends otherwise. I just …”
He chuckled. “I understand. And I guess you are right. It would be good to be friends. But I still must stress that we shouldn’t act like more than friendly neighbours for the other professors.”
“Yes, I know. I didn’t mean we should go out and party together.” She put some food in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “But I actually don’t know what we should do. So I just wanted to test this way of spending time. I mean, I guess you are past the age of just ‘hanging out’.”
Again, he chuckled. “That depends on what the ‘hanging out’ refers to.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess this can qualify as just hanging out. Although, I meant … doing something that isn’t dinner.”
“Like?”
Now she grimaced. “I don’t know. I’m not a ‘hanging out’ kind of girl. I don’t know what people usually do together at this age. Maybe all they do is just sit, eat and talk.”
“I can’t say I’m an expert either,” he said, amused. “I spend most of my time alone, researching. Unless I’m lecturing or doing something else related to my university work. My life isn’t the most exciting.”
“It sounds very nice, though,” she replied honestly. “That’s what I would like to do, too: researching and maybe lecturing. Although, it is nice to sometimes meet friends and talk about something completely different.”
“And then, you have Althea as well,” he reminded her.
She got a pained expression in her eyes. “I do.”
“But?”
She just shook her head.
“Does it disturb you … to have a daughter?”
“No!” The answer seemed to be one of those answers you just knew you had to say because everything else would be bad.
Voldemort sighed as he reached out and took her hand. “It doesn’t make you a horrible person if it did, Hermione.”
“Yes, it does,” she answered forcefully. “I just … I just need to find a way to talk to her. Then we will connect. I just need time.”
Voldemort stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, trying not to enjoy the feeling it gave him. Granger shuddered slightly, showing him she felt it, too.
“Have you got any idea what this is?” she wondered in a low voice.
“No,” he lied.
“And you haven’t felt it with anyone else?”
He shook his head, this time truthfully. He hadn’t felt anything close to this for anyone else, ever.
“Have you?” He didn’t know why he asked. For some reason, he wanted her to say no.
“No. I always thought that it was how you felt for someone you … well, I haven’t. I didn’t even want to date anyone until I felt the same feeling again. But I never did. Not that I had so many men to try it on. I mean, boys my age get rather turned off when they hear I have a daughter.”
Her honesty always surprised him. So much that he first thought she was lying. Why would anyone be so honest to a stranger? But he didn’t sense her lying and he knew she wasn’t good enough at Occlumency to hide it if she were lying. However, it felt unsettling to know that she wasn’t lying because he had no idea what motive she had for telling him the truth. Hence, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say.
“I can’t relate,” he finally mumbled.
She withdrew her hand. “No, of course not.”
The silence around them was tense. He could see that there was more that she wanted to ask but was reluctant to do. It annoyed him. Why did she stop being honest all of a sudden?
When the silence was going on for almost two nerve-wracking minutes, he finally asked: “What are you thinking about?”
She shrugged.
“Please, Hermione, just tell me. I can’t relate to what you were and are going through, and I won’t even have a chance to understand unless you tell me what is upsetting you.”
“I’m not sure,” she said, biting her lip and looking down on the table. “There are a lot of things. I don’t want them to upset me.”
“But clearly they do,” he remarked. “Tell me one of those many things then.”
Her face turned red. “I … I know you didn’t force yourself on me. But it’s upsetting not knowing what it was like. The act. All I know is that it wasn’t nice waking up after it. There wasn’t any blood or anything like that, but it … ached. And I … Did I enjoy it at all or …?” She sent him a shy and embarrassed look and then quickly looked down again.
“Is that why you haven’t had sex again?” he asked in a low voice.
She shrugged, but her head tilted forward and he got the feeling that it was part of the truth.
“You enjoyed it,” he mumbled, feeling some of his blood rushing down to his groin at the memory of that night. “At least, you acted like you enjoyed it, but I think you were too drunk to be able to lie if you didn’t like it. I didn’t know you were a virgin and so I wasn’t very gentle, but you didn’t seem to mind …” He tried to will his eager cock down. “I didn’t last very long though, and when I was done, I saw that you had passed out.”
She licked her lips nervously and looked at him with big eyes. “What did I enjoy?”
Was the little chit trying to seduce him? Was she aware how well it was working? He didn’t like it when he was about to lose control over a situation. Hence, he did what he always did when he started to feel a loss of control: He got ready to attack.
Granger looked worried when he got up from his chair and dragged her up as well.
“You liked this,” he whispered as he grabbed her hair and yanked it back hard so he could access her neck. She had really liked it when he’d kissed her neck.
She did now as well. His lips had barely reached her hot skin when she started to mew in pleasure. He had to bit back a moan of his own when he tasted her again for the first time in four years. Her skin was divine. He licked, nibbled and kissed the sensitive skin of her neck, moving down to her shoulder and then up to her ear again.
“You also liked this,” he whispered into her ear, and then, sucked her earlobe as he put his hand under her skirt and started to knead her arse and upper part of her thighs.
She cried out, and he let all caution fly. He needed to feel her cunt. The fabric covering it was dripping wet. He just pushed it aside and entered a finger into her hot tunnel. She breathed heavily, and her arms wrapped around him, pressing him hard against her.
“And you really liked this,” he growled as he let his thumb flicker over her clit.
He didn’t remember making any woman come as fast as Granger did right then. As the orgasm washed over her, he lifted her up on the kitchen table and ripped off her knickers. He wanted her now. And Lord Voldemort always took what he wanted.
Before she had time to come to her senses, he pulled out his cock and entered her. His thumb continued to massage her clit as he pushed in and out of her hard. Salazar, he had missed this. It was more than just the glorious feeling of having your cock stuck into a hot, wet, tight cunt. It sent pleasure throughout his whole body, making it sing with power. He could see everything more clearly. His magic danced all around them, intervening with hers before taking over, washing over her in the same speed as he was hammering his cock into her. He had never been in so much control over another human being before. He could make her feel anything he wanted her to. The glorious feeling of power together with the physical delight made him almost delirious.
She screamed out in pleasure as he manipulated every nerve in her body. It made her even tighter and hotter. The lamps all around them exploded as their body temperature shot up like a fever spike. And so he came, spilling his seed inside her.
His legs shook when he came down from his high. His cloths were sticking to his body in the most unpleasant way, but it didn’t bother him much. He could still feel his body tingling with power as his magic withdrew from her body.
Her body …
She looked just as sweaty as he felt. Her face was flushed red, and her hair lay damp over her head. She was still breathing heavily, but she was smiling and her eyes were closed. She looked … beautiful.
He took a deep breath and inhaled smoke. Smoke?
Standing up straight, he saw a small fire on her couch, right next to where the floor lamp stood. He quickly withdrew his wand from his pocket and put it out. Then, he noticed that her stove reeked, and he put a cooling charm over it as well. Ah, it seemed like there was a small side effect to having sex like that. He was sure he could work around it next time.
Yes, he wanted there to be a next time. He enjoyed controlling her like that too much to give it up. Now he just had to make Hermione see it the same way.
He reached out his hand to bring her back to him in a gentle way when a high-pitched scream reached his ears.
“MUMMY!”

xxx

Althea had been tired when her mother put her to bed, but after a little while, she woke up because of noises in the kitchen. It sounded like her mother and Marcus were playing. That was unfair. She wanted to play, too.
Just as she thought that, the black shadow creature she had been playing with now and again for the past week showed up. Althea smiled. They played around for a while when the night lamp next to her bed exploded.
Althea got scared. “What happened?” she asked the black creature.
“Nothing good.” The creature sounded a bit angry. “But you can make it right again.”
“Okay,” Althea said, not liking the way the other side of her bed was feeling. It was all warm and smelled wrong.
“See the fire? Just tell it how scared you are, and then, it may go away.”
Althea looked into the small fire and told it how scared she was. But that only seemed to make the fire grow, which made her more scared. The shadow creature tried to tell her to relax, but Althea couldn’t. The more scared she got, the bigger the fire got. In the end, she only knew one thing. She wanted her mother. So, she yelled in perfect English for the first time of her life.
“MUMMY!”

xxx

Hermione’s eyes flew open. Althea!
Not even taking her time to ask Marcus to move, she shoved him aside and rushed to the bedroom. The first thing she saw was the fire on her daughter’s bed; the second thing was her screaming daughter.
Mother instincts she hadn’t thought she possessed kicked in with a vengeance. Forgetting everything about being a witch and only snatching a blanket from the bed, she moved to the side where the flames were the lowest. Quickly throwing the blanket over Althea and not caring about her own safety, she grabbed her child through the flames before moving her away from the bed.
“Althea, are you alright? Are you hurt? Althea?” Hermione asked, removing the blanket and looking her daughter over, completely ignoring that she herself might be hurt. When she found that Althea had no burn marks, she pressed her daughter tightly against her chest, sobbing in relief.
“Salazar.”
She heard a hiss behind her, and the fire was put out in the room. She could feel her arms stinging. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realised that she must have burned her arms, even though the flames hadn’t been that high. However, that wasn’t important. The only thing that mattered was that her child was still alive and well. She mumbled soothingly to Althea as the girl sobbed against her chest.
“Oh, Hermione.” Marcus came up next to her and grimaced at the look of her arms. “Do you have any anti-burning cream or shall I take you to St. Mungo’s?”
“Bathroom,” she mumbled.
The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving her feeling tired and shaky. Her arms were also starting to throb more and more.
She sank down on her own bed, stroking Althea’s back slowly as the child started to calm down. She had called her “Mummy”, Hermione suddenly realised. And more importantly, Hermione had reacted instinctively. She was a mother. She really was.
When Marcus came back from the bathroom, he made his presence known by sinking down on the bed next to her and removing her shirt with a spell. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, but he didn’t notice. Instead, he focused on her burns as he smeared a healing cream on her left arm. She shuddered at the coldness but didn’t say anything. The magical cream worked instantly as it always did when it was just a normal burn. If it were a magical one, the cream wouldn’t do the trick on its own.
“The other arm,” he ordered, and she moved around so he could apply the cream there as well. “Did Althea get burned?”
Hermione reluctantly moved the girl away from her chest and looked at her more closely one more time. No, she didn’t appear to be wounded, just scared. Fortunately. She pressed Althea back against her and looked over her head to Marcus.
“You should leave,” she told him coldly.
“Why?” he asked, sounding very surprised.
She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “If you hadn’t—” she made a gesture between them with her free arm “—this wouldn’t have happened!”
His eyes narrowed as well. “You asked what you liked. I merely thought a demonstration would be the best way of showing you.”
Althea begun to cry again because of their raised voices. Hermione tried to calm her daughter down again, even though her anger at the man increased.
“That wasn’t the only thing you did!” she spat in a lower tone of voice. “I may not know a lot about sex, but I do know that you don’t usually create fires while doing it. So whatever you did—”
“I did? Oh no, Hermione. As you said, you don’t usually create fire while fucking, and it has never happened before when I’ve done it. Hence, you must be the one at fault.”
She clenched her hand into a fist and aimed to hit him, but he grabbed her wrist painfully.
“Don’t you dare,” he whispered, his eyes flashing dangerously.
She stared back at him, refusing to back down. She wasn’t sure if he had actually done something to endanger her daughter, but she knew she hadn’t and she wouldn’t listen to these accusations. Her mother instinct was a tigress, prepared to fight.
He let go of her wrist and stood up. “I’ll leave now. But we will talk about this when you have calmed down. I also suggest that you drink a contraceptive potion within the next forty-eight hours unless you want Althea to have a little brother or sister.”
With a last angry look at her, he stalked out of the room, and Hermione felt like she could finally let out an angry huff. Infuriating man! How could he be so … infuriating? She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Althea shouldn’t have to see her this angry. She shouldn’t have to see them argue at all. No child should.
Speaking of children, her hand moved down to her stomach. Technically, she knew she wasn’t pregnant yet, and there was only a little chance she would get pregnant since her period had ended just two days ago. But you never knew, and she didn’t want to get another child with Marcus. No matter how much she now realised that she loved her daughter.
Love.
Her mood shifted. If she had been the religious type, she would no doubt have thanked the gods for finally allowing her to realise what she felt for her daughter. It wasn’t a new feeling. She had had it in her heart all the time. She had just been too scared to fail as a mother to admit that she was one. However, upon seeing her daughter in the flames, she had known she wouldn’t want to live her life without her.
After a while, Althea fell asleep in her arms, and Hermione carefully laid her down in the bed next to her. She needed a shower, badly. After making sure the cream had done its work on her burns, she took the rest of her clothes off and went to the bathroom. She left the door opened so she could see her daughter all the time as she showered. She wanted to keep a constant eye on Althea now, as if it would make up for that one time that she hadn’t and things had gone horribly wrong. And that was all his fault, she considered as her mind wandered over to what had happened with Marcus.
Yes, she had liked it. A bit too much. Never had she thought she could feel something like that. Or that she would let him just take her like that, on the kitchen table. She had thought that the next time she would have sex, it would be more … planned. Not all that romantic nonsense with roses and candles, but at least with someone she loved and trusted. She didn’t know what she was feeling for Marcus, but it wasn’t love or trust. She had seen a part of him tonight that scared her. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly, but she no longer felt like she could trust him, especially not around her daughter.
No, she would just have to stay away from him.

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