Treacherous Angels

“Ron…are you awake?” Harry called.

“Unfortunately.” He heard back.

“How are you?”

“Spectacular. Yourself?”

“You know she’s only playing. She’s got a plan. A plan to kill Voldemort…she has to.”

“Bullshit Harry. You seen the mark…no one gets that just for the sake of it. She’s in on it…”

“I wonder where Malfoy is?”

“Who cares…he’s probably in on it too.”

.:0:.

The Dark Lord had Draco working harder than a house elf. Cleaning, cooking, washing the whole works. Draco could not refuse the instructions for he was under Imperio. Draco had been like this all his life, living with his father. Do this Draco and do that son was all Draco heard from his fathers lips. So he was used to it.

“Draco. Please, fill me up.” Voldemort asked, titling his empty goblet towards Draco.

“Yes sir.” Draco replied.

“Yes, Master. Let’s not forget our manners.” He corrected him.

“Yes Master…I apologize.” Draco said, walking out of the room.

He stood over the kitchen sink and let tears, casually stroll down his face, “Hermione…I love you…” he whispered before filling the goblet with brandy and leaving the kitchen.

.:0:.

Hermione lay in Lucius’ arms after a deadly game of cat and mouse sex. The fire kept them warm from the cold blows of wind, coming from the staircase. She moved her hand from his chest and slowly towards his manhood. She tenderly licked his nipple, causing them both to harden.

“More?” he asked with a smirk.

“Always…” she whispered, sitting atop of him again.

She felt him harden instantly against her in contact with his skin and decided to have a little fun, “Hmmm…what was I about to do?” she wondered out loud.

Lucius rolled his eyes impatiently, “You were about to make love to me.”

That was not the answer she was looking for. She looked deep into his eyes then closed them, “Make love? Since when have you called it that?” she asked softly.

“Always my dear…always.” He said, sitting up and coming nose to nose with her.

She blushed, “Really?”

“Yes.” He replied, capturing her lips in a hanging-for-more kiss.

Just coming into contact with her skin made him need her. And right now, he needed release. Right now…but she kept refusing…toying with his mind.

But eventually she gave up, needing her own release and threw him down onto the Persian rug that lay heated in front of the fireplace. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, making him moan. Fuck this playing bullshit he needed her now!

In one quick movement, Hermione was on her back and Lucius drew back and plunged deep into her. She let out a moan from the borders or pain and pleasure as he thrust in and out of her harder and faster.

Hermione felt a wave of relief rush over her as she hit her climax in sync with Lucius. She had never experienced anything like this before – of all the times they had sex or even fooled around...it was a whole new level of intimacy.

Still embedded in her, Lucius stroked the side of her cheek, brushing away the stray hairs, “We have a mission…” he whispered.

“We do?’ she asked.

“We have to join the Dark Lord.” He said, pulling out of her and putting on his robes.

She began to dress too, “Do you love me like you loved Narcissa?” she asked accidentally

He frowned, “No. Cissy was not one to love. She was my suitor that’s all.”

“Oh…” she replied softly.

He put his mask on and stepped forward as she put hers down too, “But you, my love, I cherish and adore. And will for the rest of my life.”

“Even if we don’t get married?” she asked.

“Even if you betrayed me in the most horrible way possible.” she smirked at this comment.

“I would never betray you. Ever.” She added, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and heading to the ballroom where the Dark Lord awaited them.

.:0:.

Hermione and Lucius entered the ballroom where maybe 18 Death Eaters, stood, fully clocked and masked. Voldemort stood in the middle, and ushered Hermione forward. She did so and bowed her head slightly.

“My how our little Hermione has grown up.” Voldemort said, receiving nods and agreeing murmurs.

“Thank you Master.” She said smiling.

“Seventeen years ago, little Hermione Jane Granger was gracefully bought into this world. She was a beautiful baby, and has grown into a beautiful young woman. As people around her die, she gets stronger. She is our youngest follower. Born into the mark is quite rare. I chose Hermione for a specific reason: She acts to her strengths. Many times she has played against her will, to protect her identity as a Death Eater and now that the word is out, we must make sure, that what’s left of the Order, does not get their filthy hands on her. In conclusion, Hermione,” he paused and turned to her, looking more and more like Tom Riddle every day. “Happy Birthday from all of us.” He added, waving his hand at the door.

A herd of House elves, pushing big silver platters with all sorts of Hermione’s favorite sweets and savories, came through the door. The last house elf that came out, was well recognized by Hermione. It was Dobby. How on earth was he re-recruited?

“Oh thank you my lord! Thank you!” she exclaimed clapping her hands to her mouth.

Another gold cart came out, piled with presents. A long table was situated in the middle of the ballroom before her eyes. Voldemort took a seat at the head of the table, he motioned Hermione and Lucius to sit either side of him.

“I don’t know what to say My Lord…it’s such an honor to know that so many people care about me. Ron and Harry never remembered my birthday…” she added as an afterthought.

“We have a surprise guest for you. Avery!” Voldemort ordered.

Avery rose from his seat and walked over to the ballroom door. He looked back for the signal to open it; Voldemort nodded. Avery swung the doors open to reveal a man standing in a long black Death Eaters ceremonial robe.

“Barty!” she screamed, jumping from her seat and running to him.

“Hey little one!” Barty Crouch Jnr. Said, opening his arms to her.

She leaped into them as he swung her around, “It’s so good to see you! When did you get out?” she exclaimed, beaming.

“Couple of weeks ago. I had to steer clear before coming to see you. Then The Dark Lord informed me that he was holding a surprise birthday for you and said that I was to be the special guest. And here I am!” he explained.

“Oh wow!” she said, turning back to Voldemort.

“Come my sweet, drink up. You are eighteen in two minutes!” Voldemort said, motioning her to him.