A Strange Love

Disclaimer: All the hot men in this chapter belong to Jo, not me!

MPS Shadowmaster: Lol! Here it is. The next -ing chapter.

cateye: I have always thought of them as hot, but then I like em bad!

angel: Yep, had to add in the girl power thing there.

Ali: I think its odd because we don't know too much about the Lestrange brothers... pity, I like it to.

ccrawley: I hope to have got the ball rolling.

lazyllama101: It is a sad thing that not very many people are being adventerous. Thank you for liking it.

fansick: I hope you continue to enjoy it.

Mary: Nope, he can't can he... I think he's still feeling sore about losing the spoils.

Jimis Little Wing: So am I!

Anon: I like tension, and it does doesn't it? I think that I would start working out if I found myself in a strangers bed.

Dee Dee: Miracle worker? Thanks! I love Hermione with Death Eaters. As for all those questions, they shall be answered in due course... ie. Be patient.

JW: Thanks. And no, I won't neglect all my other fics.

Dresses and Dinner Guests

A week later Hermione had adjusted to her new situation fairly amiably, but she wasn’t any the less comfortable for it. The second day of her imprisonment a dressmakers came from Paris to fit her out with an entirely new wardrobe, with Rodolphus looking on. Hermione felt very self-conscious with this relative stranger watching her being measured and primped for clothes, and gowns.

“She is a very beautiful young woman,” the Parisian woman said in impeccable English. “Her skin tone works with all the best colours, and fabrics. You know how to choose them Monsieur Lestrange.”

Rodolphus smirked and sat back in the chair. Hermione felt a blush creep all the way down to her legs.

“I would like her to have the finest in Parisian fashions Madame,” Rodolphus said smoothly. “She is to be my bride you see, and I have some very distinguished friends, I want her to top all of them.”

“I really don’t think I am worth all this bother,” Hermione whispered to the Madame.

“Oh, of course you are,” the Madame replied out loud.

“She is what?” Rodolphus asked.

“Your little kitten thinks she is not worth all this bother!”

Rodolphus got out of the chair and walked up to her, he tucked a golden brown coil behind her ear, and bent down to whisper in her ear.

“You’re worth anything, Hermione,” the whisper showed a hunger, and Hermione knew what he was hungry for. “Madame, I believe that it is time to lunch. There is food set down at the table in the other room for you. Hermione and I shall lunch alone.”

Once the Madame was out Hermione felt a little more nervous; she was sure he was going to hit her, but he didn’t. He walked around her as he usually did, and then he stopped behind her like he did the other day. He lowered his head and placed his lips on the tender spot on her neck. Hermione murmured with pleasure. She rolled her head to allow him further access. He snaked an arm around her waist and brought her closer within his grasp. As soon as his warm, big hand spread across her stomach she opened her eyes and turned around. Their lips were almost touching, and by Merlins Beard, did he want to caress those lovely lips of hers with his.

She moved her head closer so that her lips brushed his. He tipped his head to one side and tilted her chin up, and then he gently bit her lower lip, so that he could slip his tongue inside her warm mouth. The moment his tongue touched hers she melted into his embrace. Her tongue and lips tingled at what he was doing to her. He entwined his fingers in her hair and massaged her scalp as he kissed her, making her flesh shiver in anticipation as to what was to come next. Eventually, he broke the kiss, much to Hermione’s chagrin.

“If I didn’t stop then, I would not have any appetite for anything else,” he winked at her mischievously. Hermione found her step faltering towards the table where food had magically appeared. She sat one end of the table and he the other.

“I still don’t understand,” she began. “Are there not enough pure born women around that you can have?”

“I’ve been that side of the bed,” Rodolphus said. “And, although it was comfortable, I still hankered after something slightly more… you are that something more.”

He licked his lips to collect her taste as much as he could before he sullied it with food. She understood that gesture, but didn’t say anything. She picked up her knife and fork and picked up the cold meat salad that had been prepared for them.

“You shouldn’t really go to all this trouble,” she muttered, “if you let me go back to the Order HQ then I can get my own clothes.”

“It is no trouble to me, Hermione, you are going to be my wife. Oh, to celebrate our oncoming nuptials, I have invited a few friends over for dinner on Saturday.”

Hermione’s stomach plummeted. All of Rodolphus’ friends were bound to be fellow Death Eaters. She attended to a tomato rather religiously.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco,” he said. “A young female Shola Grey. I plan on setting her up with Rabastan. Severus obviously. That is it.”

Hermione felt herself pale considerably. The Malfoy’s! Great, she had to sit at the same table as Lucius Malfoy.

“Won’t Narcissa be rather angry, I mean Bellatrix was her sister after all,” Hermione said.

“You’d be surprised at how little they got on,” Rodolphus said. He placed a bit of egg mayonnaise in his mouth.

Hermione picked up her glass. She was expecting it to be blackcurrant juice or something, but as soon as she lifted the glass; her nostrils detected the smell of alcohol. Wine? At lunchtime?

After everyone had finished lunch, Hermione was back to the tedious business of standing up and being pinned, and prodded. She grew rather tired of this but did not wish to object. She didn’t know Rodolphus limits but she didn’t want to find out either.

After a most tiring day on her feet, Hermione was all but ready for bed, when Rodolphus said that he wished for her to join him for dinner downstairs, and to spend the evening with him. Hermione sighed. She wrapped a robe around her and followed Rodolphus down the stairs.

“Do you know what that young lady threatened me with?” the portrait of Richard Lestrange, (Hermione read the name on the frame whilst he was asleep) asked, as they walked past.

“What?” Rodolphus asked his ancestor.

“She threatened to shower me with rain!”

Rodolphus looked at Hermione, and Hermione looked away from his gaze.

“Is that so?” Rodolphus asked. “I’m sure you might have provoked her.”

Hermione smirked at the Portrait, and they continued on down the stairs. He led her to a small private dining room. Rabastan and Severus were already there.

“Are you all right, Miss Granger?” Severus asked. He peered at her, and noticed something different about her. He had kissed her. He turned to look at Rodolphus; the smug smile on the older mans face proved Severus right.

“I am fine, thank you, sir.”

“Oh stop being so formal you two!” Rabastan exclaimed. “Severus, she’s not your student anymore, so why don’t you drop it?”

“I am sure they have their reasons,” Rodolphus said. He was slightly jealous of Severus ease with her. He knew that if he didn’t act fast, Severus, or Rabastan would jump in. Normally he preferred to know the woman a little bit first before he seduced them.

“Perhaps,” Severus said. “Rabastan is right. From now on you may call me Severus.”

“And you may call me Hermione,” she replied. Rodolphus took her elbow in his hand and led her to a chair near him, and far away from Severus. He shouldn’t have to be jealous of a grease monkey, but he was.

Rodolphus bought out the chair and Hermione sat in it, and then he pushed it gently into the table. He then sat down on the chair opposite her. He wanted to observe her beauty all throughout the meal. The dinner was not too fancy, but it was actually cosy. Rodolphus looked over the candlelight and found to his sheer delight the flicker reflected in Hermione’s eyes. She smiled back at him. No one said anything throughout the meal.

They all left the dining room, after the meal, and pudding, and retired to the sitting room. Hermione felt as if she had stepped into a Jane Austen novel. Who would the Lestrange brothers be? She found herself wishing she could be Elizabeth Bennet.

“Hermione,” Rodolphus said. He picked up a book. “I hear you are a good reader. I have this book of poetry.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. She loved reading poetry. He handed her the book as she was sitting down. Her eyes fell upon the poet’s name.

“Lord Byron?” she asked. He smiled down at her.

“I am a romantic at heart you know, Bellatrix did not like poetry. She despised it in fact. I used to have to read to myself. Now, I think that you are a poetry lover, I would so love to hear your soft voice read some aloud.” Hermione held the leather bound copy of her favourite poets texts and stroked its cover and spine lovingly. She opened the book and looked at the opening page. “Is something wrong?” he asked Hermione.

“No,” she said. “It’s just that, this is beautiful. And a first edition, don’t you have any other copy? I can’t hold this book.”

“I have no other edition of this book,” Rodolphus answered. “Read the Giaour.”

No breath of air to break the wave
That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff,
First greets the homeward-veering skiff,
High o'er the land he saved in vain;
When shall such hero live again?

Hermione’s voice rose and fell at the right places of the text, and she read with fervour and passion. It was a long poem. It took her at least an hour to read, and by the end of it her throat was dry. Rodolphus was mesmerized. He was beginning to feel something inside himself that he never felt before. She had awoken some sort of emotion that he was not familiar with, yet he knew what it was called. He found himself slowly falling in love with her.

~*~*~

Saturday dawned. It was a bright, beautiful day. Hermione knew that it might not end so. She had nothing to do for this dinner, as the house elves took care of the cooking, and the arranging, and as it wasn’t a ball either she felt rather useless. Rodolphus had been rather gentlemanly the past few days. He had kissed her more than once, and he even lifted her legs over his waist on one occasion. A small part of her didn’t mind, but she did mind feeling his hard member pressing against her. She wasn’t that comfortable with the idea yet. She knew she’d have to get used to the idea pretty damn soon, otherwise he might resort to desperate measures. She considered asking Severus to make her a potion that she could drink when the event arises. Severus would agree, wouldn’t he?

“Absolutely not,” he said. “He’d know for one thing. You’ve got to take this like a woman.”

“Like a slut!” Hermione exclaimed.

“You are not a slut. He does intend to marry you,” Severus said. “Have you noticed something special about the guests that are coming this evening?”

“They were all at the battle,” Hermione said.

“He’s up to something,” Severus said. “And just because he’s a Slytherin that doesn’t necessarily make it a bad something either.”

Hermione nodded glumly. First he wouldn’t help her escape and now he wouldn’t supply her with a potion to ease her enough to let Rodolphus have his wicked way with her. She found herself feeling very wary of this evening. She didn’t want to eat at the same table that one of her worst enemies would be sitting at, but it seemed she had no choice in the matter.

“Normally with gatherings the guests actually arrive at four o’clock for afternoon tea,” Severus looked at his watch. “Which gives you precisely six hours.”

“It’s only a comfortable dinner,” Hermione said.

“Not amongst these circles it isn’t,” Snape replied. “You have to look your best, Narcissa Malfoy probably started hours ago. You, as the hostess, have to look better than your guests.”

Hermione sighed. This was going to be tough, how could she make herself look better than Narcissa Malfoy?

“Thanks,” she said. She walked out of Snape’s room to her own. She flung open the door and stormed up to the wardrobe and flung those doors open too. She began taking robes out left, right and centre. “I need help!” she said to herself.

It was rare for her to wish that she was more like Lavender, and this was one of those times. She managed to look stunning for the Yule Ball, but that took MONTHS to plan. This was spur of the moment, and she didn’t want to look like that again. Even though, she mused smugly, it did shut Malfoy Jr up. She picked up various gowns, but then she picked up a purple gown that had an iridescent shine of the colours of the evening. She settled for that gown. Now for her hair, she hunted for a bottle of Sleek Easy, and after a long time searching she found one.

It took two arm aching hours to make her hair remotely manageable last time, and she sighed. She wished she could have found a spell that would just sort out the unruly mass but there wasn’t. She was hoping that by now Lavender Brown or Parvarti Patil would stop trying to tell the future and get onto doing what they said they wanted to do in their first year. And that was to search for more effective beauty spells.

“Clunky!” she exclaimed. The house elf appeared in her room immediately. He liked this new Mistress; she was nicer than the old one. She never hit, kicked, or yelled at him. About the only terrible thing this new Mistress did was try to offer him clothes.

“Yes Mistress,” the elf said bowing.

“Would you be so kind as to put Sleek Easy in my hair after my bath, and please put those gowns away apart from the one I’ve hung up on the back of my bed.”

“Yes Mistress,” the elf said. He wasn’t accustomed to pleases and thank you’s. He found himself liking her, and hating his Master, which only bad elves like his cousin Dobby did. He found himself wanting to do anything for his mistress.

She went into her en-suite for her bath; if she had to spend hours pampering herself then she might as well try to enjoy it. She poured in some purple bubble bath, and loved the fact that the bubbles were purple as well. She eased herself into the bath and let the soap work it’s way into her body. She shampooed her hair, and when she rinsed the shampoo off her hair, she conditioned it. She also decided to shave her legs, armpits, and some of her pubic hairs to tidy that area up a bit.

She then released the plug, and as the water was going down the drain she stepped into the shower to rinse the bubbles and hairs off her body. Once completely clean she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a robe around her body. Clunky was waiting for her, he had tidied up her clothes for her, excepting the one she said to leave alone.

She sat down on a stool in front of a mirror, and stared at her reflection. What was so brilliant about her? Why was Rodolphus doing this? She shrugged her shoulders, whatever his true motives, she’d never find them out by running away. Severus was right; she had to stay, unfortunately.

Clunky walked over to his Mistress, she gave him the bottle and he squeezed some of the serum onto his hands and started rubbing it in her hair. Clunky had to get used to elaborate hairstyles. The old Mistress insisted on them. She used to get cross with him if it didn’t fit her requirements.

“How would the Mistress like her hair to be styled?” Clunky asked.

“I would like it piled up on my head with just a few tendrils covering my neck,” Hermione said. “Plait it in cross weaving patterns, please.”

Clunky breathed a huge sigh of relief, he liked plaiting hair, once enough serum was placed on her hair Clunky set to work, plaiting the hair in intricate detail.

~*~*~

Rodolphus felt he had been gentlemanly enough. Tonight he was to announce his intention of marrying her, properly. He took out a green box lined with black silk; inside it was his family’s ring. As soon as it was on her finger she’d be his. The ring would fit itself to her size and would refuse to be moved.

“You’re really going through with this aren’t you?” Rabastan asked with a sour tone to his voice.

“Yes I am,” Rodolphus said. “She’s going to accept me.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Rabastan asked.

“Rabby,” Rodolphus said sighing. “She’s accepted my affections, my food, my bed, and the money to buy those clothes of hers. She’d accept me.”

“I could have brought those clothes for her,” Rabastan sulked. “I could have given her those affections.”

Rodolphus rolled his eyes in exasperation. No matter how many times he explained it to his dear, dense brother; he never seemed to get the point.

“It is up to me to carry on the name. Even our Dark Lord has accepted that fact. Stop being such an idiot.” Rodolphus looked at the clock in the study. He decided he had better make a move to get himself ready; there was only a mere three hours to go. She had probably already started. “Anyway brother dear, it’s time we retired to our chambers and prepared ourselves for this evening.”

Rabastan nodded. He set his jaw and gritted his teeth. He hated the way Rodolphus treated him. They weren’t children anymore.

~*~*~

Hermione knew it was always good to be ready at least half an hour before the guests arrived. She looked at herself, and nodded. This was about as good as it was going to get, any other improvements would just have to be postponed. She knew she wasn’t particularly beautiful, so having to think of a way to beat Narcissa Malfoy in the looks department had been challenging, and Hermione LOVED a challenge.

She thought she had taken it to its limits. She was just about to sit down on the bed when someone was knocking on her bedroom door. Rodolphus then strode in the room. He stopped in his tracks. He knew she had potential, and there was beauty there, but this siren before him was a delightful surprise. He would definitely take her tonight. He couldn’t resist her much longer.

“Ready to meet our guests?” Rodolphus asked.

“Yes,” Hermione answered. She was glad she had chosen the iridescent purple gown, as it went with Rodolphus dark blue robes beautifully. Clunky must have set those robes out for his Master.

“By the way, my dear, you look ravishing. I don’t think I’ll have any appetite for dinner.”

Hermione looked down on the floor. Rodolphus tilted her chin up and made her look in his eyes. She smiled. He rubbed his thumb along her lips and she gently bit some of the flesh on the pad.

“Shall we go downstairs then?” Hermione asked.

Rodolphus offered her his arm and she accepted. They swept down the stairs regally and Hermione felt more confident with each step. She just hoped that this wasn’t some big set up for some ultimate humiliation.

~*~*~

Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco were the first to arrive. Clunky showed them in the Conservatory where tea was set up. Rodolphus walked up to them and shook them all by the hand and kissed Narcissa on the cheek. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the woman.

“I trust all three of you know Miss Hermione Granger?” Rodolphus asked. Hermione took that as her cue, and got up to walk over to her guests.

“I went to school with her,” Draco drawled in a bored voice. He was not looking at her. Lucius, however, was.

“Charmed to meet you properly, Miss Granger.”

“The other times were rather impromptu weren’t they,” Hermione observed in a cool tone.

“You’re that girl that was sitting with the Weasleys at the Quidditch World Cup aren’t you?” Narcissa asked her. Hermione nodded. “Well, you’ve improved since then.”

Hermione wanted to scratch her eyes out, but realised she might be being bitchy for another reason. She saw Hermione as a threat to her sister. She was the reason that Bellatrix was dead after all. And now, barely a week later, she had taken over. Hermione decided to be nice and show her some sympathy.

“I am sorry indeed for your sisters death,” Hermione said. “I am an only child and do not know what the relationship is, but it must be painful for you.”

Narcissa looked at the young woman in front of her. She eyed her up and down and noticed she had taste. At least she was wearing a Madame Jardinia. That always made Narcissa immediately like a woman.

“She was a dear sister to me,” Narcissa replied coldly. “But she is dead nevertheless and died with nothing left of her blood. She should have produced a child as soon as she was out of Azkaban, but she didn’t. She was prepared to let the great name of Lestrange die out. I hope you have no intention of letting such a thing happen.”

“I understand you to mean, do I want children?” Narcissa raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I have always wanted children.”

“Good,” Narcissa said. “You must have a boy.”

She laid a hand on Draco’s shoulder, and then she pushed Draco in front of her.

“Greet your hostess, Draco,” Lucius said.

Draco looked at Hermione and his jaw dropped almost to the floor. This was Granger? This was the know it all Granger? Where was the bushy hair? Where were the buckteeth? He appraised her and then mentally kicked himself in the shin.

“Miss Granger,” he said. Hermione noted his reaction and smirked.

“Master Malfoy,” she replied. She decided to curtsy to him. He bowed awkwardly to her.

Shola Grey arrived then. She was rather pretty but vacuous. She wore robes a size too tight, and had a laugh that would make a mother donkey giving birth a run for its money. She was most certainly NOT suited for any of these two families. Lucius rolled his eyes ceiling ward and then looked at Rodolphus. He jerked his head in a direction and they walked off together - leaving Narcissa to introduce Shola to Hermione. Narcissa gave her husband a thoroughly disgusted look.

“You lucky bastard!” Lucius exclaimed. He was looking appreciatively at Hermione the whole time. Rodolphus followed the line of his friends gaze.

“Yes, I am.”

Lucius then turned his attention towards the young woman with the grace of a duck and turned back to Rodolphus.

“Tell me you’re not matching her up with Draco?”

“No,” Rodolphus said. “I might not like my nephew that much, Lucius, but I am not entirely cruel to him. Besides, isn’t he getting rather attached to the Parkinson girl?”

“He is, but he could do better, I am sure of it.”

Lucius then looked at Hermione once more, he was shocked at how well she seemed to take the laugh, and the brashness of Shola.

“She’s perfect, Lucius, just perfect,” Rodolphus said talking about Hermione, and then he bought the conversation back to Shola. “I am trying to set Shola up with somebody.”

“Who?”

“Rabastan,” Rodolphus said. “He gets a little too frisky around Hermione. Twice in one evening when we were sitting in the same room I found him looking at her and his trousers getting rather tight around a certain area. It’s not the sort of thing that I’d like to witness I can tell you.”

Lucius shuddered. He had better behave himself then. Rodolphus’ revenges were pretty legendary amongst the Death Eaters.

“Does she know of his feelings for her?” Lucius asked.

“She elbowed him in the ribs when he attempted to have his way with her, she won’t betray me with little brother that’s for sure.”

“I understand Severus is here, too?”

“Severus can rot in hell. He knows that she’s not to be touched by any other man but me. Bear that in mind Lucius. No other man is to touch her, but me!”

Lucius nodded. No other man…. Bastard! Shola laughed at something Hermione said, and the laugh cut through to Lucius and grated his nerves to shreds. Hermione, however, smiled serenely through it. Lucius tipped his head to one side. All those missed opportunities, he could have taken her at least twice but he didn’t because he kept focussed on other things at the time. Damn his single mindedness!

A/N I hoped you liked that. This is going to be Death Eater overload I think... mind you, we wouldn't mind that, would we?