Is This What Love Is?

Hermione awoke later. Apparently when Voldemort had killed Bellatrix she had passed out. Hazel orbs slowly fluttered open to look around. Though it was dark, she could tell that she was in Voldemort’s bed once again, the thick emerald silk curtains closed tight around the bed. Not knowing if it was night or day or even what actual day it was, she didn’t know if she wanted to give her wakefulness away. Only the constant and almost painful pressure in her bladder made her move.

Pushing back the curtain on the far left side of the bed, Hermione struggled to her feet, the stone floor cold against her bare feet. Hermione, braced for pain that did not come, took in her surroundings. Nothing about Lord Voldemort’s room had changed. It was still bare of anything but the massive, four-poster dark cherry wood bed, a matching dresser, and a large black leather, high backed chair that sat in front of the massive fireplace, a fire burning cheerily and attempting to warm the room.

It was at that moment, after assessing where she was and if anything had changed that her overfilled bladder made it’s need known. And with a quiet groan of pain, Hermione hurried as quickly as she could to release herself.

It seemed like forever before her bladder was empty and as she stood up after wiping, she would notice her clothing. It was a simple nightgown, black in color, and made of the softest cotton she’d ever felt. It was comfortable and warm but short enough to leave her legs bare from mid-thigh down. Though simple in its design, it was still beautiful. Moving to the sink, she would turn on the water to warm so she could wash her face and hands and brush her teeth.

“You are awake at last.”

Hermione had been so caught up in her daily activities that she hadn’t noticed Voldemort had come up behind her. Now those hazel orbs, wide and frightened, would look into the mirror at the man who towered over her. He was still the same man, but there was something else about him, something that she couldn’t put a name on. “How long have I been out?” She would ask, her hands clutching tight at the bathroom sink.

“Four days.” Voldemort responded, his pale hands moving to rest upon the young woman’s shoulders. He could feel her tense up beneath his touch and in some deep dark part of him, a part he tried to hide even from his self, it hurt him.

“Bellatrix?”

That one word and anger was in those snakelike eyes. The crazy witch he once thought he cared about was dead. At his own hands no less. All because Bella had forced from Hermione that which he would’ve given to the older woman had she just asked. “Dead, she shouldn’t have taken you.”

Dead.

The word was said without any emotion, as if he hadn’t felt bad about killing the woman who had been his most ardent supporter. But with those last words Hermione shrugged out of his touch and moved into the bedroom. “Why not? Other’s have been allowed to touch me. Why not her?” she’d mutter. She wanted to hate this man but his light touch on her shoulders had sent her mind reeling.

“She did not have my permission at the time, the others did.” Voldemort would say, his eyes following her out the door. Soon he would follow her as well, his robe trailing behind him. He missed his precious Nagani but she was now dead and he knew no other snake could replace her. “Hermione, you must understand, you belong to me. If I allow others to share your body it is of my choosing. Bellatrix did not have my permission. If I had allowed her to live, my people would’ve thought I was weak.”

Hermione grabbed the fur-collared black robe from the end of the bed and pulled it on. “You are weak, pathetic. Just a little boy playing at adult games.” Hermione whispered as she’d pull her chocolate brown tresses from beneath the robe. “Who will I be sleeping with tonight? Graybeck? Remus? Lucious?” She was mad and knew it showed but she didn’t care. She was simply tired of being passed around though she had enjoyed Bill. But that was one secret she would take to the grave.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed even more. With a calming breathe; he’d turn his back to the woman who had begun to mean so much to him. “The Malfoy men want to share you tonight and you will. Then Remus will be moments after them. He’ll be furry but he will be controlled.” Voldemort said. He wanted to know how this young woman would take the orders that he was giving her. He knew she despised the Malfoy’s but there was nothing she could do about it. He gave her an order and he wanted her to follow through with it.

Hermione watched as Voldemort turned away from her and knew that he would never take her to his bed again. Swallowing roughly she would nod her head, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see her. “Fine with me. Now if you will send Dorny to me, I’ll get ready. Please leave.” She would whisper, turning her back on him. Had she finally given up? Yes, she was tired of fighting, tired of being forced. He had killed Bellatrix because the woman had touched her without his permission.

A breath she didn’t know she’d been holding shuddered out of her when she heard the door close. Turning around, she looked at the spot that Voldemort had once stood and couldn’t help the tears that fell from her eyes, her whole body beginning to shake. Hazel hues turned towards Dorny as the hose elf apperated into the room with an audible pop.

“Oh poor Misses, Dorny will take care of you now, yes she will. Come let Dorny get you in the bath.” The house elf hadn’t liked the mudblood at first, but after seeing the way the other Wizards and that Crazy Witch treat the girl, she figured the girl needed a friend.

“I’m so tired Dorny.” Hermione whispered softly as she let the house elf lead her towards the bathroom, a steaming bath awaiting her. She let the house elf remove her clothing and help her into the bathtub and sighed as the warm water hit her body. Taking a deep breath, she’d turn her eyes away from Dorny towards the wall, looking at nothing as she’d let her mind wander around the room. She wasn’t paying attention to the words Dorny would say to her and technically she couldn’t care less. She didn’t even know that Voldemort was outside the bathroom door listening to Dorny and simply watching Hermione in the bathtub.