Inside the Blackest Heart (Edit, Not Update)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 43 ~ A Bit of Jealousy in the House

Hermione had a quiet lunch in her room. As she ate her mind kept wandering back to the sexy promise the Professor had given her about delivering tonight. A delicious shiver ran through her. His kiss had surprised her. Although he had kissed her because she challenged him, and had been angry, the kiss had been tender, sweeter than she would have ever imagined him capable of. His mouth was soft and warm, belying the coldness he radiated. She wondered what an attentive Professor Snape would be like. Would he really take time with her or do the bare minimum to get to what he really wanted? After that kiss, she didn’t think she would be able to tell that he was acting. Hermione shifted her position on the bed. She was getting herself all worked up thinking about the Professor. She decided to focus on her powers instead.

She stood up and looked around her room. Her eyes fell on the wardrobe and she willed it to move. At first nothing happened. Then suddenly Hermione felt power flow through her and the wardrobe slid forward so quickly she was forced to jump on to the bed to avoid being squished.

“Wow. I have to learn to regulate this,” she thought as she climbed off the bed. She moved the wardrobe back in place. So she could move objects. She willed the brush on her dresser to float. The stream flowed easier, and the brush rose. She directed it all around the room by thinking where she would like it to go, then made it tumble over and over. She floated it back to the dresser. She wondered if she could move something heavier. Hermione looked at the dresser and once again she felt the stream of magic flow through her. The heavy dresser lifted several inches off the floor easily. She set it back down. She walked into the study and began practicing lifting furniture and found she could levitate several objects at once. The sofa, coffee table and armchairs floated effortlessly above the floor. The best part about her power was there was absolutely no strain to her system. Using her Primordial gift was completely different than casting a spell, which required effort. She would be able to use the magic indefinitely if necessary. Hermione began to spin the furniture in place, enjoying herself immensely.

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In his throne room, Voldemort felt the power Hermione was emanating flow through him. It was strong, raw power.

“She is growing more powerful,” he thought, tapping his wand on the gilded edge of his throne. This was good. He knew that Albus and the Order would soon be upon him, and since acquiring Hermione, he had decided to stand and fight. It was time for the Final Battle. Albus had made a grievous miscalculation attempting to kill Miss Granger’s parents. Now it forced him to move before he was ready, and he had no idea how strong the witch was. This put him at an extreme disadvantage. The Headmaster would have to approach the Dark Lord’s forces with caution and restraint instead of a full head-on assault. The Primordial would be able to wipe them all out at once if they moved en mass.

Voldemort’s ranks were over six thousand strong, but with the Primordial, he might not have to use them, though he would have them prepared for battle. Every deatheater was proficient with the Unforgivables. It had been required of them to be able to cast the deadly spells. The punishment for a bad showing was very painful and the deatheaters worked hard at learning the spells to avoid being tortured. In a matter of two months, he had personally witnessed each and every one of his servants cast all three curses with skill. He was quite satisfied with them. He still had the pensieve of Albus attempting to murder the Grangers. He was saving it to show Hermione at the last possible moment, to increase her ire against Dumbledore and the Order. He wanted Albus’ betrayal fresh in her mind.

Concerning the Primordial herself, Voldemort wondered if the charmed clothing was doing its job on her libido. He wanted to speed up her descent into the carnal. It irked him that Snape was fucking the most powerful witch on earth. The deatheater didn’t deserve such an honor. He was an animal. Completely unworthy. Voldemort was a sexual deviant but he believe in giving a woman as much or more pleasure than she could stand before he took his own brutal pleasure. He knew Snape’s MO when it came to women. Fuck them as hard as he could, in as many orifices as he could. He cared nothing about the finer points of taking a woman to the height of pleasure and making them beg for the next level of bliss. The Primordial only knew the brutal side of sexual pleasure with the Potions Master. Voldemort knew could show her so much more. There were spells and incantations that would lift her beyond the sensual, preparing her body for the deep, dark pleasures of an even darker Lord. He longed to show her the depths of his desires.

Hopefully, the combination of the aura of carnality suffusing his stronghold and her charmed clothing would make her bored with Severus’ brutal and unimaginative attentions and lead her to seek out other sexual experiences, experiences he would be more than happy to give her. Voldemort had his pick of both females and males among his ranks, and he occasionally indulged himself. Mostly though, he derived pleasure watching his deatheaters brutalize, rape and kill in his name But he would enjoy fucking the Primordial, and it was his main intent outside of securing her promise to help him defeat the forces of Light.

At that moment, Severus appeared and walked across the throne room toward the Primordial’s room. He paused and bowed to Voldemort as he passed. The Dark Lord’s red eyes followed him. Just before the Potions Master reached Hermione’s door, Voldemort called him.

“Severus, come here,” the Dark Lord said.

Snape turned and returned, stopped before the throne and bowed to the Dark Lord.

“How goes it with the Primordial?” he asked him.

“She is happy, my Lord,” Severus replied.

“And you, are you happy serving her? Or are you still feeling resentful?” Voldemort inquired, his red eyes searching the Potions Master’s face for signs of discontent.

Snape looked at the Dark Lord. He could see envy clearly on his scaly face.

“We have come to an understanding my Lord. All is well between us,” Snape replied

This displeased the Dark Lord, but he did not react.

“Let me see, Severus,” he said, rising from his throne and descending.

The Potions Master raised his occulmency shield, blocking his and Hermione’s conversation about the Dark Lord and her plan to seek out other deatheaters. He left only the kiss and his promise to fulfill her needs. The Dark Lord pressed his scaly fingers to Snape’s temple.

“Legilimens!” he lisped.

Voldemort watched the tender kiss Snape gave the Primordial, and her reaction to it, and to Snape’s promise of fulfillment. It seemed the Potions Master was capable of providing a woman pleasure after all, when so inclined. The Primordial was as taken with him as ever. Damn him.

Voldemort released Snape’s mind and walked back up the stairs to his throne. He sat down and studied the Potions Master.

“I see you are changing your methods toward the Primordial, Severus. I thought you showed women no quarter when you took them. Are you developing feelings for the Primordial to treat her to so gentle a kiss?” Voldemort asked him, his eyes glittering.

“No, my Lord. She expressed the desire to experience more than my usual brutal possession of her. She wishes to be kissed and caressed before and during the act. I am simply following your command concerning her. I am developing no feelings for her, my Lord. I am simply servicing her needs,” Snape replied, “I gave her that kiss to show her I could be gentle. She had some doubts my Lord.”

“I don’t wonder. She confided in me at breakfast this morning that your taking of her virginity was quite brutal and thorough,” Voldemort said, “so thorough that you triggered her Primordial powers and forced them to manifest years before the normal awakening.”

“She desired me greatly, my Lord. I did not plan to ever fuck her again, so I took my fill of her and educated her thoroughly,” Snape replied.

“And she willingly accepted this treatment from you?” Voldemort asked the Potions Master.

“Mostly, my Lord. She had to be ‘persuaded’ on occasion, but she submitted to me, my Lord”

The Dark Lord looked at his servant.

“How did you persuade her, Severus?” he asked.

“A bit of physical violence, my Lord and threats. My usual reaction to being disobeyed when seeking my pleasure of a woman. As I told you, my Lord, she has a dark need within her. She has had too many responsibilities forced upon her. The result is she has masochistic tendencies. Which suit me, my Lord,” Snape responded.

The Dark Lord rested his chin on his hand.

“So tonight, you are going to suspend your usual brutality with the Primordial?” he asked.

“No my Lord. But I will provide for her other needs before I take her with my usual…gusto. She will be appreciative, I am sure,” Snape answered him smoothly.

Severus sounded sure of himself concerning the satisfaction of the Primordial. Again, Voldemort felt a stab of jealousy at the Potions Master’s intimacy with the young witch.

“Very well, Severus. You may go,” the Dark Lord dismissed him.

Snape bowed. “Thank you my Lord,” he said. Walking away quickly, relieved he had not been Crucio’d because of the Dark Lord’s envy.

Voldemort watched him go, his red eyes slitted with displeasure.

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When Snape walked into Hermione’s room, he drew up short, his eyes round as he saw Hermione, standing in the center of the living room, smiling like a child as furniture spun like tops around her. He watched as the heavy items bobbed low then drifted high, all moving in a circle around her while spinning. It looked a bit like a merry-go-round. He studied her. He could see no sign of effort or strain. The magic was doing all the work.

Hermione noticed him, and her smile broadened. The furniture stopped spinning, and each piece neatly returned to its original resting place. Severus was impressed, though he maintained his cool composure. His black eyes fell on the grinning witch.

“Your powers are growing stronger,” he said, remarking on the obvious.

“Yes, they are. I can consciously control them,” she said excitedly, bouncing over to him. He looked down into her happy, flushed face. She reminded him of the student she used to be, exclaiming over a perfectly brewed potion, or new spell she’d learned. Hermione’s face grew serious.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him. He had an odd expression on his face.

“Nothing,” he answered her, “I was wondering if I might utilize your library for a while. My room is sadly lacking in reading materials.”

His room? Hermione hadn’t realized the Professor had his own room here. But then, he must, since he was in hiding too.

“I didn’t know you had a room here, Professor. You don’t have a library?” she asked him.

“No, Miss Granger. I do not,” he said shortly, a bit of bitterness in his voice.

Hermione caught the note of discontent in his voice.

“You’re welcome to use the library any time you like, Professor. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” he said, turning to go into the study.

“Um, Professor?” Hermione said. Snape turned and fixed her with his black eyes.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione hesitated for a moment. Snape looked at her with impatience.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight. I thought it would be nice to eat together before we…before we…

Snape raised an eyebrow at her.

“Before we fuck, Miss Granger?” he asked helpfully.

She blushed and nodded. The Professor smirked. So she wanted to make it a romantic evening. Well, he could play the part.

“Yes, Miss Granger. I will dine with you if that is your wish,” he replied.

She smiled.

“What would you like to eat?” she asked him.

In response, the Professor’s black eyes swept over her slowly.

“What ‘food’ would you like to eat, Professor?” Hermione amended, again blushing furiously. She felt a little heated at the hungry way his eyes raked her body.

“Anything will be fine as long as it isn’t overcooked,” he replied, “and some wine as well.”

“All right,” Hermione replied.

The Professor walked into the library.

Hermione did a little dance and summoned the house elves to plan their meal.

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A/N: Voldy is really hating on Snape. Hermione’s powers are developing nicely. Lemons next chapter, ya’ll. Please review.