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The Defining Prophecy	By : Landquist Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 21976 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not Rowling. Ive made no money from this fanfic. THANKS =)

Chapter List
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Author's Note: Sorry my updates are taking so long, school has started back and work is priority. Here's the newest development! Hopefully the updates won't take so long from now on =)

After this chapter I'll begin responding to reviews, I just wanted to develop the story a little before I began responding to specific people. Here we go!!

Hermione slowly regained her composure. Harry's attempt at comfort had helped more than he realized. She was terrified of becoming nothing more than a common whore to Harry and Lord Voldemort, but his kindness quelled her fears. Apparently her feelings still meant something to him. His quick retreat was hopefully in respect for her privacy and she made a mental note to thank him for his sweetness.

She straightened up, quickly bathed and turned off the water. Still feeling slightly uneasy she examined herself in the bathroom mirror, another wonder of the magical world, no matter how long you shower the mirrors will never fog. She sighed, her body showed no signs of abuse or wear, the rest of the world would know nothing of her lifestyle change, and yet she felt like a stranger in her own body. Her innocent virgin physical and mental state no longer seemed to match her personality. She imagined being ducked underwater, held there until her lungs nearly failed, and then being released and told to forget the experience.

Nearly thirty minutes later Hermione emerged from the bathroom still wrapped in a towel, but with hair tamed and light mascara applied, calm. For the first time she inspected her new living space. She had noticed that the bathroom was borderline lavish, very similar to the prefects bathrooms, marble floors had spanned the room, an antique bathtub featured various faucets and a luxurious shower head. Double sinks, surprisingly modern, lay below a gorgeous mirror framed by intricate gold work, and the towels on the racks next to the tub were perpetually warm, she suspected house elves. Lastly, a large ornate window gave a lovely view of the grounds below.

She noticed her bedroom catered specifically to her needs, however, she saw that Harry had quickly made himself at home. She smiled at his Firebolt and Quidditch robes draped across an arm chair. Harry could still be Harry despite all these changes, that notion comforted her. The bed was much larger than she originally thought last night and the dark wood of the bed frame contrasted sharply with the white sheets and pillows on the bed. The effect was pleasing but the symbolism of the white sheets did not go unnoticed, she wondered wryly if the color of the sheets would change after her birthday. A large fireplace laid against a diagonal wall of the room had two luxurious arm chairs arranged around it, one of which Harry had apparently already claimed. The wall to the right of the bed housed the door leading to the common room, but also had two large bookcases that looked incredibly appealing. The hardwood floors were adorned with soft rugs and the wall directly across from the bed featured a walkway that lead to a dressing room doubled as a study.

Her calm was threatened when she saw Harry lying on the floor charming a toy mouse to run across the room so that Crookshanks could chase it. The picture was adorable and Hermione was struck with serious emotional pangs, she felt herself developing feelings for both of the men being shoved into her personal life, but that did not mean she was used to the connection.

Harry saw her and stood, looking concerned but mixed with another emotion she couldn't read, he walked over to her quickly and gathered her into a warm hug. She felt him kiss the top of her head, "I'm sorry 'Mione." Hermione knew he didn't know exactly why he was apologizing, but she appreciated the gesture. She hugged him fiercely before letting go, afraid to speak. Walking over to one of the two wardrobes, hoping she chose hers first, she noticed Harry was not leaving the room. She found her school robes and appropriate underclothes and still Harry had not left. Instead she watched him walk to his wardrobe with complete calm. Without speaking Harry shed his briefs and began rummaging through his clothes stark naked. He did not look at her as her eyes roamed his body curiously and slowly she began to understand what he was doing. Comfort with each other was necessary and Harry was taking steps to eliminate the awkward firsts of living together. Naked sightings were inevitable, and as their relationship would include sex her modesty was a little ridiculous. Harry was trying to take the initiative for her comfort.

Guilt flooded her when she wondered if she would ever experience this moment with Lord Voldemort, hoping that she would. She forced herself to focus on Harry and appreciate this moment with him, sensing that it was important. She timidly dropped her towel and bent to put on pink cotton undies and matching bra, at this point she noticed that Harry had dressed and was putting on his robe while watching her. She blushed but did not cover herself. He did not reach to touch her. She chose skinny jeans and a simple long sleeve shirt under her robes so she was able to dress quickly. Harry smiled and walked out of the room. Hermione felt her calm return as she picked up Crookshanks, giving him a kiss and a light squeeze before going to meet Harry in the bedroom.

She walked up to Harry and affectionately rubbed his arm, "Thank you Harry." He seemed to sense that the situation was delicate and did not respond, he simply smiled back. Hermione walked to the door, ready to walk down to breakfast, but the door would not open. She tried the password but the door remained locked. She blushed fiercely and turned to ask Harry, he answered before she could however, "Dumbledore said that if the common room was occupied another door would open up in the study, it will take us to a empty spot in the hallways."

"Harry can you please tell me anything else I need to know about this room or our new arrangements? I'd like to know everything upfront and not just on a need to know basis, the constant flow of new information is getting old." Her calm was gone and panic was threatening to rise, she felt an emotional breakdown brewing. Harry looked hurt, quickly muttering an apology before heading for the study, she followed.

A week and a half had passed and Hermione's life was only becoming more complicated. Classes were fine, the workload was manageable, even though Harry's new Potions techniques were annoying she felt content with her school work and schedule. The school was buzzing with talk about her and Harry's relationship but she could ignore everyone, except Draco. His sneers were unsettling and he scared her, but the fight in her personality tempted her to ask about the state of his father's desk multiple times. Those thoughts gave her personal moments of comic relief that were desperately needed.

Sleeping arrangements with Harry were interesting. Most evenings she was alone until late, due to Harry's obsession with Quidditch, and her rooms at that time were quite peaceful. She would read or work while Crookshanks lounged lazily at her feet. But on the night of the 13th Hermione was lost in personal thought. She missed Lord Voldemort. She had not experienced her "dreams" with him since the night she had openly barred herself for him and was beginning to feel insecure. He was disgusted with her she was sure and no amount of books or logical thinking could solve this problem and she was therefore suffering. Suffering doubly because only a mentally unstable person would miss Lord Voldemort. His last words had been a mysterious inquiry about Hogsmeade, but she had long ago marked that off as nonsense.

She missed his power and she felt an odd empty feeling in her stomach from not having contact with him. She attributed that feeling to him because she had felt a similar, yet much smaller, feeling for Harry when he had fallen asleep in the common room one night and did not come to bed until extremely late. Hermione cursed the prophecy for the millionth time. Hating her dependence on the two men.

Her virginity was becoming a subject of fascination for her which quickly led to mixed feelings and guilt. She knew Harry would deflower her, Lord Voldemort had no chance of breaking into Hogwarts, but part of her wished he could. Since that first morning with Harry, Hermione had experienced many orgasms thanks to him. She had given into the pleasure he gave her, rationalizing that these practices would only soothe her transition into the full blown prophecy on her birthday. But her mind could not forget what the Dark Lord had given her. Harry was great and she hoped he would make her first time pleasurable, but he had never given her pleasure like the Dark Lord had that first night. She had glowed under his attentions in a way that she hadn't under Harry's and she felt guilty for it.

An hour later she had finished her homework, and as Harry walked into the room she stood and forced her mutinous thoughts away. He smiled and picked her up, nibbling playfully at her neck, exclaiming about whatever he and Ron had done after Quidditch. She laughed and smiled sleepily quietly stating that she was tired and heard the bed calling. He looked down at her happily, her mood had changed drastically for the better and he was thrilled, although he did sense that the change was due to great effort on her part. He tried to express his thankfulness towards her in his kiss before leaving her to go bathe.

Hermione smiled at Harry's back, feeling very wanted and loving the attention. His mood was much more agreeable when she accepted him and she did feel happier for it.

Her mood darkened as she got into bed, realizing she was hoping fervently for an encounter with the Dark Lord.
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The Defining Prophecy