Of Days and Ends

A/N: Please, please, please, please, please review!!!!!!
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Chapter 36—New Age Feminism: The Lestrange Account

“H.B.P?” Hermione hedged. Then suddenly she grew angry. “If you can’t figure it out, what made you think I would tell you who it was when I hadn’t told you before?”

“Calm yourself, Miss Granger. We were only curious.” Professor McGonagall responded.

Hermione didn’t answer. She simply listened carefully as Professor McGonagall, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Luna, and Lavender postulated over the initials.

“H.B.P. There was no one in my year with those initials.”

“Well they wouldn’t be, would they?” Lavender answered. “They’d have been in school at the time. It has to be someone that Hermione would have access to.”

“Yes. How about in her own year?” Luna suggested.

“There are no guys with those initials.”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t seen those initials in almost two decades.” Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione refrained from swallowing, despite the scared lump in her throat. She was close. McGonagall just didn’t know how close.

“There was a student that used to initial their papers like that even though his name didn’t have any of those letters.”

Hermione sat rigidly still. Her face remained a blank mask.

“Who?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

“I don’t quite remember.”

Hermione forced her face to stay carefully blank.

“Bollocks, Hermione!” None of them had ever heard such language ever leave Mrs. Weasley’s mouth. “Why are you always so difficult!”

“I’m sorry.” She sheepishly responded.

______________

“Bellatrix, approach me.” Ordered the Dark Lord.

On graceful steps, Bellatrix quivered as she neared Voldemort. It was not, as Wormtail had previously demonstrated, a quiver of fear, but more a quiver of absolute adulation. Genuflecting dramatically, she drew the hem of his robes to her face and pressed her lips to it, much longer than any other member dared. She inhaled deeply, savouring everything about her master. Her eyes were the only ones that ever dared to meet his while on bended knee.

“Rise, Most Faithful Servant.” Each word was enunciated clearly and deliberately, and despite wanting the mad man dead and working assiduously towards that goal, Snape still felt affronted that the title had been taken from him.

In fact, he couldn’t believe it took Voldemort a little over two months to think that Snape was enough of a risk. Hermione was nearly 17 weeks into her pregnancy and the last time he saw her, she was only just beginning to show. The tiny little bump on her abdomen was almost laughable, especially when he caught her rubbing it affectionately. A girl who hadn’t even broken into her twenties was going to have his baby in less than 26 weeks and he was standing in the midst of Death Eaters where he could possibly be punished for making Voldemort doubt his loyalty.

Voldemort’s eyes met Snape’s over the top of Bellatrix’s head as she bent to kiss the hem of his robes again, snapping him back to the present.

At her full height, Bellatrix still only managed to reach Snape’s shoulder, four inches shorter than Hermione, but as Snape approached with Hufflepuff’s Cup, she looked at him as though he were half her size. He fought an urge to kill her, and redirected his gaze to Lord Voldemort. “My Lord.” He knelt before him and raised the horcrux over his head as an offering.

“This, Bellatrix, is the gift that I am taking away from Severus and giving to you. It is of the utmost importance to me, because it is a gift that will always have a part of me for you. Do you understand?”

“My Lord.” She said with a trembling nod.

The Dark Lord waved his wand and the cup shone with the soul it possessed. “There is your gift, Bellatrix.” By the lack of surprise on her face, Snape was sure that she didn’t know what it meant.

“Thank you, My Lord.”

“Where will you keep it Bellatrix?”

“I’ll keep it in my family’s heirloom vault.”

“Where?”

“At Gringotts Bank, My Lord.” She giggled madly when he stroked a finger down her cheek. “It is inpenetrable, My Lord and should anyone be lucky enough to make it that far, it will become their pyre.”

Voldemort made a quick, violent motion by grasping the hair at the base of her neck in a way that any normal person would have been shocked or scared by. Instead of her smile falling, however, her smile opened into a gasp of pleasure as she was jerked forward onto one knee in front of Voldemort. “You always please me Bellatrix. Tell me, My Most-Faithful, how it feels to be the first female that I hold in such high esteem.”

“My joy would be complete if you would allow me the honor of raising that esteem still further, My Lord. I believe that I have suggested a specific way ever since Rodolphus was captured, and it would be my honor and deepest pleasure.”

Voldemort looked her over with a heavy-lidded expression before looking out into the assembly. “Where is Rabastan Lestrange?”

Rabastan walked between the ranks of Death Eaters before he came up behind his sister-in-law and dropped to one knee to accept Voldemort’s hem to his lips. When his eyes rose, Voldemort offered him a rare gesture and put a hand out for Rabastan to take.

When he had risen to his full height, Voldemort stood and put himself within a foot of the younger Lestrange, still a few inches taller than him. “It would seem that your sister-in-law is unhappy in the match I created with your brother.”

Snape’s head snapped up in surprise at this. When they were young and Bellatrix married Rodolphus, Snape had thought it was a love bond. This was news.

“It is due to that, that I feel the need to assuage her desires. She can’t wait for her husband to return, after all. I am giving you a choice now. You may stay and watch with your brothers. Perhaps you will have something to relate to Rodolphus. Of course, if you will be uncomfortable—”

“No, My Lord! Eet would be my sincerest pleasure!” He exclaimed with a light French accent despite appearing to be angered by the idea. Voldemort chose to ignore Rabastan’s demeanour.

Bellatrix was visibly trembling at the honor, and Voldemort turned to her, contemplating her for a moment before he sat in his throne and looked across the crowd of Death Eaters. “All women assembled may be used by all men assembled, but they may not be tortured. The exception is Narcissa Malfoy who is married to Lucius Malfoy. Lucius is the sole user of his wife unless Lucius wishes to share her.”

Snape looked over his shoulder to see Narcissa staring meekly at the ground. Hermione would never stand for that. He spoke of using women like tools. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alecta Carrow looking absolutely lascivious. She appeared to be fully prepared to participate as a smile lifted her lips. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, who had joined as soon as the school year was finished, looked around with something akin to horror on their faces. Crabbe and Goyle, juniors and seniors, were already looking in their direction. Draco Malfoy, however, seemed to appear ready to throw up.

“If any of you men wish to use each other, it must be with the consent of the person you wish to use.” Voldemort looked out at everyone seriously. They hadn’t indulged in this type of revel since Voldemort’s resurrection, and there were a lot of new young men. He had to be sure to set the rules clearly, and finally, spreading his arms wide, he proclaimed, “Enjoy yourselves, My Sons.”

Snape was immediately propositioned by three different men, as was Draco Malfoy. Draco appeared to be turning green, keeping his lips squeezed shut, and shaking his head vigorously. Snape took his time moving to a vantage spot with his back to the wall where he could view everything. When he reached that spot, he pulled his penis from his robes, carefully leaving everything else covered, and prepared to stroke himself to rigidity. Something about these sort of revels always made him feel ill, and he had to work hard to appear to be enjoying himself. His silver lining was that they hadn’t had to capture any muggles this time.

“PROFESSOR!” Pansy burst from the gathering orgy of Death Eaters with a desperate shriek. “PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU TO HELP ME!”

Snape looked into the sea of writhing bodies, and saw Millicent already overcome, every orifice was being filled by a different death eater as others gathered around to stroke themselves and wait their turn. Crabbe and Goyle stood at the edge of the group waiting to see what Snape would do.

“Professor...” She begged. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

Snape looked up to the meet Voldemort’s eyes over Bellatrix’s head. When he received a minute nod, Snape returned his eyes to Pansy’s and extended a hand to her.

She scrambled forward and took the hand he proffered, allowing him to lead her to sit between his legs. Her back pressed to his chest and an arm around her waist made him feel very protective of her, so when Crabbe and Goyle senior pushed past their sons to approach Snape, he felt a tingle of angry magic run through both of them.

“Care to share, Snape?” Crabbe asked as he jiggled his short, fat cock around his hand.

“Fuck off.” He answered, turning his lips to her neck as though he were savouring her.

“C’mon, Snape. You could have your choice. I know you like a good ass fuck.”

Snape hummed as though contentedly, “No, I think not.” He slipped a hand up Pansy’s robe to find that she wore a tight leather skirt underneath. Her panties, he quickly discovered, were crotchless. What was she so afraid of? She appeared to have come prepared. Then, upon second consideration, he realized that she had likely come prepared for only one person.

Crabbe junior dropped to his knees beside his father to see under her robes, but Snape made sure to keep her hidden from view. “Professor! C’mon! You can’t handle her all by yourself!”

“Oh, I assure you. I am more than capable.” He accentuated his statement with a light flicking of Pansy’s clit that made her eyes dilate and a small gasp escaped her.

The men left to try to find a place to use the other women. Pansy and Narcissa were going to have a good time in comparison to Millicent who had streaks of tears cascading down her face.

“Why didn’t you go to Draco?” He had heard rumours that they had been an item once before.

She was startled by Snape’s voice in her ear, husky with arousal. She would be terribly offended if she knew that he wasn’t thinking of her at all. He was nursing a very sick fantasy of defending Hermione at one of these revels the way he did Pansy and having her wank him while he touched her clit in such a public way. Pansy’s breathy voice yanked him back to the scene, “Something’s wrong with Draco, he wouldn’t say anything. He’s in shock, I think.”

He hummed again. “Reach behind you and stroke my cock.” He wanted to make sure that she looked a little uncomfortable to satisfy anyone watching them. His eyes drifted back to Bellatrix on her knees with her mouth completely engulfing Voldemort’s prick.

Voldemort was not a small man, by any means, but his complete lack of hair and normal skin pigments was more than a little disturbing. She appeared to be bobbing up and down on a large purpling sausage.

Pansy breathily tried to say something to him. Her thin lips turned towards him as she murmured something, and he had to lean forward to hear her better. “Uhn—sorry, that was nice—I meant to say, I didn’t think Voldemort would be so big.”

Snape refrained from growling with disgust as Pansy grasped his penis in both hands behind her back and licked around the shell of his ear. “I never, ever thought you’d be even bigger though.” She purred and his face remained a carefully trained mask of indifference.

He refused to answer. His best spy work could be done in these moments as he cast about through the crowd casting a very complex wandless, wordless legillimency at those who managed to stray near him. Their minds were so preoccupied with achieveing orgasm that those that did know occlumency weren’t protecting their minds.

Pansy was beginning to writhe in front of him, his cheek remained against hers, and he was jerked back to the immediate situation a couple times by her lips or tongue against his cheek or lips. She was murmuring something, so he leaned forward and strained to hear. The room was getting pretty loud.

“Yes, Professor, please go faster!”

She was close. Good.

He looked up to the front of the room, but Bellatrix was facing away from him and Voldemort, like himself, was not near enough to orgasm to relinquish his occlumantic holds on his mind.

He flicked her clit faster and sucked lightly on her neck, remembering that Hermione often came undone when he did that. Pansy, on the other hand, dragged his hand up to her breast and he played with it to make her come. When nothing seemed to be pushing her over the edge, he got frustrated and pinched her nipple. She shrieked so loudly that Snape jumped and a couple people including Voldemort and Bellatrix looked in their direction.

He was surprised by her breathless pleas that he do it again. He obliged her and Voldemort smiled as he watched them. The long, slim wand was raised between slim, pale fingers and he waved it, leaving both Snape and Pansy completely naked. The focus shifted away from Voldemort and Bellatrix and to the two of them.

Immediately, Crabbe and Goyle returned and kneeled in front of them to wank. Their fat hands moved up and down their tiny, fat peckers. Pansy struggled to cover herself, but while he did feel sorry for her, he had an image to uphold and he wrapped his legs around hers to pry them apart. “Now, you will continue to stroke me off. Understand, Miss Parkinson?”

He manipulated her sex shamelessly, bringing her near to orgasm (now that he knew what worked for her) and putting on a show as he refused to allow her to climax. Voldemort was deeply aroused because he made Bellatrix’s robes disappear and lifted her to sit on his lap. She sunk down on him with a long, deep sigh, murmuring incoherently before opening her eyes to watch Snape and Pansy.

Snape concentrated on the incredible multitasking he was forced to accomplish flawlessly at great risk to his life. He had to maintain an erection, his occlumantic protections, and now that Bellatrix was looking at him, he could use legillimancy on her mind.

Voldemort appeared to be very aroused by the sight of Pansy coming undone just as Bellatrix too was losing control and he moaned lightly. Then, as though he was nearing the end, he made Bellatrix stand and bend over his throne as he took her from behind.

Bellatrix’s mind was made so vulnerable in her moment of orgasm that he was flooded with images that he sifted through expertly. He got the information he needed. He didn’t notice until Bellatrix had finished her orgasm that Pansy too was quivering under his hands. A nice solid pinch to her right nipple, made her shout and convulse under his attention and his penis and muscles twitched in anticipation.

When Pansy went limp in his arms, Snape watched the Dark Lord pound into Bellatrix’s body a few times before he nudged Pansy’s shoulder roughly. “Get on your knees and finish what you’ve started.” He ordered.

Voldemort watched as Pansy rose on her knees and lowered her face to Snape’s exposed member. Snape’s hand suddenly flashed out, and he slapped Pansy across the face, stopping her open-mouthed before she could touch him.

“Use your hands, cunt.”

Voldemort approved and grunted suddenly as he shot his semen directly into Bellatrix’s body. Snape tried to take advantage of Voldemort’s distraction, but the Dark Lord had hung his head and closed his eyes. Snape focused with his eyes closed at the ceiling on the sexiest noise Hermione had ever made and imagined her tight quim pulsing around him. He imagined her saying all the dirty things she liked him to do and came on Pansy’s hand.

As he took in the room around him, he was surprised to see fluids all over Pansy’s back. Apparently, Crabbe and Goyle had emptied themselves on her. Pansy leaned forward to kiss Snape, but he grabbed her jaw roughly enough to bruise and snarled, “I did you a favour and you did me a favour. We’re even.” Shoving her face away and standing, he turned back to Bellatrix who kissed the cheeks of Voldemort as he watched Snape stand. “Very good, Severus.”

“Thank you, My Lord.” Snape’s clothes were restored to him and Voldemort dismissed him. He repeated, “Thank you, My Lord,” and disapparated.
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Hermione,

I have more errands for you. Write Potter and Weasley and tell them that it will be in Bellatrix’s vault. Things in the vault multiply and scald anyone present. The vault also has a spell against summoning charms, cooling charms, and casting hexes. They will need an Indian charmed rope and the Sword of Gryffindor. More importantly, they will need two different keys to get in and out. Those keys will be hidden in Bellatrix’s house. She lives in the Black Manor in Scotland.

Potter and Weasley will need to be very careful getting in and out of both Bellatrix’s house and her vault, because the inside of her house is likely to have Death Eaters and the inside of Gringotts will likely have goblins and the outsides are likely to be patrolled by aurors. The aurors can’t enter the property of her home.

Remember what I told you, and be safe,

H.B.P.

P.S.—I’m sorry. I was required to do what you most abhor. We will talk later.

Hermione read and reread the letter twice before picking up a quill in the library and sitting at the desk to write. A deep curious voice behind her made her jump. She whirled and aimed her wand at Dudley Dursley’s head. “Oh Merlin! Dudley, is it?” She asked, lowering her wand.

Dudley’s mouth seemed to have stopped working.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know it was you. Surely you understand. I just—these are not the times to sneak up behind people!” She watched him nod fervently before she asked. “You were going to say something?”

Dudley sputtered apologies until Hermione held up a hand, “I was just wondering if H.B.P. could be Harry.”

Hermione was taken aback. “No, Harry’s middle name is James. His initials are H.J.P.”

“Oh, well I just thought maybe it was a nickname or something, like Harry Bloody Potter or something.”

Hermione couldn’t help the genuine laugh she released. It felt good. “No, no, nothing like that. Is that what they think?” She spoke, of course, of the Order.

“No, they keep saying the same things.”

“Hmm... well, it wasn’t a bad guess.”

Dudley glanced down at the letter she received. “Is that another one from him?”

“Who? Harry Bloody Potter, you mean?”

Dudley chuckled lightly, “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Dudley sat heavily on the floor by her feet as she raised the quill again to write. “So what are you writing?”

“It’s extremely confidential, Dudley.” She responded without looking at him much like Snape used to do to her when she was a student. Then as an afterthought she added, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to think she was joking.

Hermione glanced back to see him staring at the floor. She returned to her writing.

“Is it going to Harry?”

She sighed. What was Dudley here for? “Do you want to send something to him?”

“Yes.”

She whirled in her seat to look at him with incredulity. “Why?” She questioned.

“I just—well he—it’s like this—I—oh nevermind!” He was about to walk out, but by the time he was able to lug his overlarge body off the ground, Hermione had already stood and grabbed his arm.

“Why do yo want to write him?”

Dudley looked as though he wished he could sink into the ground and she briefly wondered if it was safe for someone as large as he to blush so profusely. “He’s my cousin and I—I wanted to say, well... I’m sorry.”

Hermione stared at him. She couldn’t, in good conscience, deny Dudley the opportunity to make such a profound act of contrition. “Wow, Dudley, that’s really...” She was about to say that it was “big” of him, but on second thought, it was in better taste to avoid that particular phrase. “That’s... that’s... nice.”

“Well, can you just send this to him?” Dudley asked, drawing a small letter from his pocket. It looked as though it had been carried around with him for quite a while, but Hermione was quite adept at distrusting people now.

She turned back to the desk and picked up a sheet of paper and the quill. “Rewrite it on this.” She didn’t think that Dudley would agree to have a tracking spell put on his letter, and she thought it might be too invasive to read it.

Dudley nodded and began to leave the room, but she insisted he stay.

“You don’t trust me? But I don’t know magic.”

“Pardon me, but no, I don’t trust you—you or anyone else, really.”

Dudley nodded and sat on the floor, using a book to write the letter. Eventually, he finished and came behind her as she was finishing her letter to the boys. She quickly flicked her wand, adding wards to both letters and folding her own around Dudleys.

“You’ll send it by owl?”

“No.”

“How will they get it?”

“That’s for me to know and you to continue to wonder about.”

Dudley didn’t respond.

Hermione leaned to grab the proper envelope for the package and saw Dudley still standing by. “Can I help you with anything else?”

“I really think Mrs. Weasley cooks really well.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And...” She was usually not so crass, but Dudley was making her worry. She just wished he would say what he was thinking.

“Well, I don’t know... Don’t you think they—that is to say—Does Harry or his friend cook?”

“Not well.” She said with narrowed eyes, and suddenly she understood. “Of course! Dudley, that’s brilliant!” Snatching up the letter and stuffing it into the envelope, she swept out of the room, leaving Dudley trotting in her wake. He was still morbidly obese, but he was obviously losing weight faster than he ever had before.

Mrs. Weasley was not in the kitchen and Hermione snatched a bag, scooped the leftovers of Mrs. Weasley’s stew into a small cauldron and tucked it away. As she walked to the front door, she saw Tonk and Remus in the living room and said, “I’ll be right back!” before apparating away.

She found herself in the clearing that they vacated months ago and she pulled out the bundle Snape gave her. He insisted that she not open the bag, because Mrs. Weasley’s toe would be shrivled inside, so she simply hung the chain with the attached bag around her neck and recited the spell he taught her and apparated. She didn’t recognize the empty rock cavern she found herself in and quickly found a wall to use to keep her back protected.

Fifteen minutes later, after she had looked around thoroughly, she set a fire and left the cauldron of Mrs. Weasley’s soup on the fire, with the letter on a large rock nearby.

Looking around when she was finished, she called, “Harry, Ron, I’m here and I’m leaving now. I just wanted to leave some of Mrs. Weasley’s stew and some information for you. I miss you guys and I have so much news for you, but it will have to wait. Uhm... yeah. Bye!” She hesitated before she apparated back to Order headquarters and immediately ran up the stair to cry herself to sleep.

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A/N:

1-- catysmom
2-- Queen_Celestia
3-- meankitty69
4-- johanna3030
5-- pstibbons
6-- slytherin-princess
7-- sslover
8-- openthedoor
8-- Lady_of_Clunn
Thank you. You have been sooooooo faithful to me, and I want you to know that I needed it, and I dedicate this story to you especially and the rest of you that bother to review.

Oh! and I almost forgot! Everybody wish congratulations to our resident Preggo, Lady_of_Clunn! Good Luck, Sweetie!