Filthy Little Mudblood

Hermione found herself miserably alone for the rest of the day. Severus and Lucius had been called to a meeting and afterwards, both were sent on missions. When Lucius breezed through to tell her it would be two days before his return, she almost begged him to stay. Two days! Sure, she’d miss his company, but the new, darker part of her was already screaming for release. She groaned to herself when she realized that she had turned into exactly what Lucius had wanted her to become; she was now a wanton slut. Still, she had standards, and when she heard Wormtail creeping up the steps later that night, she thought briefly about sending him flying back down before she could even reach the door. That thought was replaced by the one more concerned with how she could suddenly hear possible intruders, which was then replaced by curiosity. Surely he didn’t think he stood a chance with her. However, Severus’ words from before entered her mind she wondered if he was right, if she would be fighting off Death Eaters should something happen to Lucius. She was sure that no matter how powerful she felt, she would be thoroughly abused and then killed if given the chance.

Her concerns were unwarranted and soon Peter Pettigrew opened her door and quietly slipped in. He glanced at the bed, apparently thinking she would be there at this time of night, and slowly crept towards it.

“Forget to knock, Wormtail?” she hissed menacingly.

“Um, no, I..I…I don’t have to knock!” he stuttered before shouting back at her.

She chuckled mirthlessly and watched as he visibly cringed. “That’s right, Wormtail, you think you don’t have to knock because I’m nothing more than a slave, right? Let me correct you there. You see, you, of all people,” she said evenly, slowly sitting down her book, uncurling herself from the sofa, and walking towards him, “should cringe when you hear my voice. I may not be allowed a wand, but things…happen sometimes, and you are number one on my list, you dirty traitor.”

“Don…don’t speak to me that way.”

“Oh, but I will,” she said, advancing further until she was standing right in front of him, dark power radiating from her very being. “I will talk to you any way I choose, traitor. You’re nothing, but a pathetic coward who sold his best friends for a meaningless piece of power. And what do you do with your so called power, Wormtail? Are you allowed a certain position in Voldemort’s ranks?” she smiled evilly when he cowered upon hearing the name, her words washing over him as his body began trembling. “Tell me, Wormtail, was it worth it? Was it worth spending 12 years of your life as the rat you should be?”

A stunning spell couldn’t have had more effect. He stood there motionless, watching her every move and listening to her every word. Soon, he straightened up and said, “the…the Dark Lord requests your presence. You m…must follow me.”

Her eyebrows raised quickly in surprise. “He does, does he? Well then, let us not keep him waiting, Wormtail.”

Motioning for him to lead the way, she quickly turned things over in her mind. Perhaps this was the night he would want to take her. Then again, perhaps he was bored and wanted someone to torture, one really couldn’t be sure with a man like him.

The sadistic part of her reared its’ head and as they made their way down the winding staircase, she barely flicked her fingers and watched with glee as Peter fell down the last several steps, only to land in a heap at the bottom.

“Damn, Wormtail, you almost …well hello there, Mudblood,” came the voice of an unknown Death Eater below her as he appraised her scantily robe-clad body.

She quickly lowered her eyes and hid her smirk. Stupid men, so bloody predictable when it came to a woman. Did they all feel the need to drool, or was that just her own observation? She could only imagine being taken by someone like him, fumbling and fast. Gah! It made her stomach turn just thinking about it.

Peter stood quickly and stumbled for a moment. Turning sharply he pinned her with a glare and said, “what did you do?! You did something, I know you did!”

She was almost impressed, almost, with this new ability of his to finally say a whole sentence without stuttering. Those opinions were not to be voiced however, so she innocently shook her head and faked being scared. The whole slave thing was really starting to annoy her as of late and she found she needed an outlet.

“Come now, Pettigrew. We were all standing right here and watched as you fell of your own accord. The mudblood was several steps behind you,” came another Death Eater’s voice. Speaking in her defense?

The hall went silent immediately and Hermione glanced up quickly to see what had happened.

“Is there a problem?” Voldemort hissed angrily.

“N…no, M..Master, no problem,” Wormtail stuttered and Hermione rolled her eyes thinking that his newfound vocal ability was rather short lived indeed.

“Crucio,” he whispered and the beady-eyed little man dropped to the floor, screaming loudly in pain. It was a rather pathetic display to see and she hoped she could do far better if she were ever put in that position.

“When I told you to fetch the slave, Wormtail, I didn’t mean hours later. If I have to do something again because you are so completely inept, then I will make you wish you were dead. Do you understand me?”


“Yes, M…Master,” he whimpered from the ground.

“Slave, follow me,” he ordered without glancing at her as he turned around and walked down the hall.

The other Death Eaters watched her silently, her head was bowed as it should be, but there was definitely something in the air around her that didn’t reek of dead soul like most slaves. Most were more than a little curious as to what the Dark Lord wanted with her, but none had the nerve to actually ask.

Hermione followed him to a set of rooms at the end of another long hallway. The house was mostly dark now, but since this area was completely new to her, she tried to memorize everything she possibly could. The walls were bare and the floors were carpeted in what appeared to be a rich, brown material unlike any she had ever seen before. They stopped at the door and she watched as he drew his wand and made a complicated sequence of patterns before striding inside, allowing her to follow behind him.

“Wormtail believes you brought about his fall, is that true, Mudblood?”

She inwardly rolled her eyes at their continued use of that ridiculous name. Honestly, could they come up with nothing better? “No, Milord, I was too far away to have pushed him.”

“Ah, I see, but given the chance, would you have done so?” he asked and she was surprised to hear a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Perhaps, Milord.”

He chuckled for a moment before flicking his wand towards another door, causing a bag to come floating out. “The bathroom is there,” he said in a quiet voice of silk that made her shiver with excitement, “put this on for me and look your best, but do not make me wait.”

“Yes, Milord,” she said, remembering to bow before doing as she was told.

Taking the box from him, she quickly walked to the bathroom and removed her clothes, thankful that she had taken a shower only hours before. She snorted when she pulled the skimpy silky material from the box. Damn Death Eaters, have they no imagination? Must everything be green?

Slipping the scrap of material over her head, she allowed it to fall easily over her toned form. She let her hair down and slowly arranged her curls around her face while she looked in the mirror.

“My, my dearie, I’m not sure if I feel more sorry for you or for the Dark Lord on this night.”

Hermione quickly glanced at the mirror, surprised that it had spoken and quirked her eyebrows. “Perhaps you should keep your pity to yourself for the time being,” she said smugly.

And now her inner struggle began. She was really quite torn about the whole situation. Sitting outside of that door was the man she was sworn to hate, the man who made cruelty and death a part of her life for years now. However, the darkness within her wanted him, plain and simple. There were no illusions of love or grandeur, she knew he would treat her only like a Mudblood whore. If she were truly honest with herself, she knew that that was exactly what she wanted. So what was the problem? What forbade her from allowing the darkness to keep her for the time being, the way it always did when she read those books or focused on it?

She took a deep breath and called for the darkness, allowing it to overwhelm her slightly. Then she hoped for the best. Opening the door she stepped quietly to the middle of the room as Voldemort watched her from his chair and she equated him once again with a king on his throne.

“Turn,” he ordered just like the night before.

Slowly, she turned in a circle in front of him, stopping only when he rose from his chair and walked over to her. He began walking around her body, assessing her features with his cold gaze as she continued to look at the floor. His hand came up and touched her bare shoulders with feather-light strokes, making her shiver and arch her neck, silently begging for more of his touch already.

“Tonight shall be interesting, don’t you think Mudblood?”

“In what regards, Milord?” she asked politely.

“In regards to the fact that I’m going to make Harry Potter’s best friend scream my name as she comes beneath me.”

A sharp intake of breath met those words as her body tensed and desire washed over her. The statement was quite crude, but the effect was astounding.

The effect was also short lived as he placed a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his own. She shuddered in revulsion as she looked upon his pale skin and the red slits he called eyes; noting the similarities to the creatures he so favors.

“Explain to me then, why it is you desire me so much, yet look at me with such disgust,” he asked slowly. “Must I force you to do what you so willingly do for Lucius?”

“Milord, I’m sorry,” she replied as she lowered her gaze once more, suddenly realizing what the problem really was and that it had nothing at all to do with good or evil, “it’s just that I’m not really fond of snakes and you look remarkably like one.”

Cold laughter filled the room momentarily as he looked down at her again. “Not the answer I was expecting,” he said thoughtfully, “but honesty is a pleasant change from the usual dribble I must force myself to listen to. You intrigue me, Mudblood.”

She grimaced at the name, but tried to cover it quickly. Unfortunately she wasn’t quick enough for him and he asked heatedly, “do you have a problem with being called what you are, Mudblood?”

“No, Milord, it’s just that the name ‘Mudblood’ is growing rather tiresome. That’s all.” Deciding to be brave and say more than the simple answer required, she added, “imagine being called ‘human’ and nothing else, although true as it may be, it’s still wears thin after several months.”

Silently she hoped she hadn’t pushed him too far. His temper was legend, especially if the stories Lucius had told her were true, and she almost feared his retribution. Most shocking was the fact that she wasn’t quaking with the fear like she should have been. It was as though her new powers gave her more strength and she valued that knowledge.

“It would appear that you have the inability to control your tongue as well,” he said coldly. “However, you do speak honestly and without fear. Shame you’re not a pureblood, you would have done well as a Death Eater.”

Her gaze met his as she realized what he was saying. “The shame, Milord, is that blood should matter so much over general abilities. That I’m not given the chance due to my lineage.”

“Are you saying that you would join me if given the chance?” he asked in surprise.

“I’m not sure as of yet, Milord, what I would do given the chance. However, Lucius has been very good to me,” she purred, “and I’m content in my standing at the moment.”

Quietly he stepped away from her, allowing her to keep her gaze fixed upon him as he slid his hand in front of his face. Eyes widening in surprise and breath catching in her throat, Hermione took in the new sight before her. Gone was the pale, snake-like creature from before and in its place was the most handsome man she had ever seen. That was truly saying quite a lot considering she thought Lucius a very handsome man. But the man before her was better by far. His brown hair lay perfectly upon his head and fell in waves around his ears, making her fingers beg to run through it and touch each of the highlighted strands. Eyes the color of scarlet still shone through, but the soft brown hue of his skin belayed any residual revulsion she might have had. His lips were full and sensual and she itched to kiss him completely. The body remained the same tall, muscular build, but she could tell by his hands alone that he was more tan and less pasty than before.

“Does this meet with your approval then?” he sneered, openly watching as she looked at him with desire-laden eyes.

“My gods,” she exclaimed in wonder, “is this what you would have looked like all along?”

“Had I not lost my body because of your foolish friend?” he growled. “Yes. However, I find the other look tends to garner more fear from others.”

“I bet you do,” she said quietly, walking slowly towards him as he watched her.

“Are you coming to me willingly then?” he drawled silkily. “Or will there be a need to force you?”

“Milord, please trust that Lucius has done his job well,” she said slowly.

Her hand came up to touch his face and she was slightly surprised to see his grimace before he hid it. She stroked his cheek and brushed her thumb along his lips before lowering her hands to his chest and getting a feel for the man beneath the robes.

“It would appear so,” he said softly, the usual calmness of his voice now coated with desire. “Don’t assume, Mudblood, that I will be gentle with you.”

“I would hope not, Milord,” she purred as her hands continued to move over him, making him groan slightly “but I must ask as to why you would want to lower yourself to be with me.”

“It is not lowering oneself to fuck a mudblood slave, surely you know that. Otherwise, giving you to Lucius would have been a punishment and not a reward.”

“Oh, I see,” she said rather offended, but quickly brushing away the feeling as his fingers trailed up her arms.

Voldemort slowly grazed her flesh with his fingertips, enjoying how the witch before him responded. She was correct in her assumption of her unworthiness to him, but after seeing her with not only Lucius, but Severus as well, she had enveloped his desires. That was why he had sent Lucius on the first available mission, so he could have her without having to take her away from him. Now, the need to take her was completely consuming him. He was going to invade her body until she yielded for him the way she did his servant. Surely if she could come so wantonly for Lucius, she would for him as well.

There was something else about her that he’d noticed in the last several minutes. He could sense the power she possessed and, if she still had her wand, he was sure she would use that power. He could also sense her own desire radiating off of her in waves. With the exception of one, the witches he took radiated fear, not desire, and their fear served only to infuriate him more. He had no wish to break this current witch, and if she came to him willingly, he felt they could both enjoy their encounters. Bella was the only other witch who took pleasure in being with him, but he knew that was because she was warped in her belief that she was actually in love with him. Love? He growled at the thought of how weak a person could be where that emotion was concerned.

“Are you displeased, Milord?” she asked cautiously when she heard his growl.

“Not as of yet,” he answered coldly.

His fingers stroked the material of her gown and she gasped when it suddenly slid down her supple body and fell in a puddle around her feet. Again he walked around her slowly, looking her over curiously with eyes full of lust. When he was behind her, she felt his breath on her neck and shivered, tilting her head to one side to allow him access.

He chuckled icily as he lowered his mouth to her neck and bit down hard. Whimpering in pain and pleasure, she felt his teeth break her skin before he lapped the coppery tasting liquid from her neck. Her entire body was tense, but the more he licked and suckled on the area, the more her whimpers turned to moans and she relaxed into his touch.

“Do you like pain, witch?”

“Sometimes. When it pleases me.”

“I see,” he rasped, wrapping an arm around her and roughly grabbing her breast.

She arched her back into him, pressing into his chest and hardened erection as his hands began roaming her body. Slowly, one hand slid down her flat stomach and began to stroke her slick folds. Her loud moan reverberated through the room and she pushed herself on his fingers as they plunged inside her wet core.

“Such a wanton little witch,” he said calmly, using the voice that made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle, as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly he stopped and removed his hands from her body as he took a step back and licked his fingers clean.

“You will have your pleasure witch, but not before I have mine. Disrobe me,” he commanded.

Hermione quickly turned and was struck once again by the beauty of the man before her. She disrobed him quickly, allowing her hands to linger over his taunt body. He moaned in pleasure before pushing her roughly to her knees.

“Suck me,” he ordered and she immediately complied. Flicking her tongue out and licking the tip of his leaking cock. Slowly, she began to lick down his length, moaning at his incredibly large size and wondering briefly if she would indeed be able to take all of him. He gave her no choice as he shoved himself inside her wet mouth and began pumping forcefully. Taking as much of him as she could, she started sucking and licking with every stroke. Her hair was wrapped in his fingers firmly and he pushed her head quickly back down as he thrust up into her hot mouth.

Now it was his groans that filled the room as he forced himself further into her mouth and was amazed at how good she was. She moaned around his cock, sending vibrations along its’ length and through his entire body.

“That’s it you filthy little mudblood, suck my cock like a good little whore!”

Sucking quickly, she took more and more of him into her mouth, reveling in the sounds of his moans and unconscious pleas for more. When she knew he was close, she cupped his balls only seconds before he groaned loudly and spilled himself inside her mouth. She greedily licked him dry before standing up to face him once more.

“Very good,” he said appraisingly before reaching out and running his hands along her sides and down to her waist. He pulled her roughly against him and kissed her hard. Gasping in surprise, she allowed him the entrance into her mouth that he readily took. Her hands gripped his hair tightly. His tongue battled for dominance with hers and he could only hope the sex would be the same. More than anything at the moment, he didn’t want a simpering little chit of a girl that he had to fuck, he wanted a passionate slave that was willing to fuck back.

As he felt himself hardening once more, he grabbed her ass tightly in his hands and pulled her body up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, never letting her lips leave his, as they quickly made their way into the bedroom. He threw her on the bed and immediately came over top of her. Kissing her neck and shoulders before moving down to her breasts as his hands roamed every inch of her tight body he could reach. He took first one nipple and then the other into his mouth and sucked them hard between his teeth, making her hiss and moan at the same time, as her fingers dug into his hair.

The air around them crackled and he lifted his head up, looking at her for a moment before slowly working his way down her stomach and to her dripping pussy.

“Amazing isn’t it?” he asked and then continued when he saw her questioningly look. “Hating something so much and wanting it even more. You hate me for what I am, as I hate you for what you are, and yet you can’t help your body’s response to me.”

Her response was only to scream in delight when his tongue flicked over her clit. Without waiting, he plunged his fingers inside of her as she bucked into him and begged for more, hoping he wouldn’t stop this time as her hands once again wound through his hair. He continued his ministrations, playing her body like an instrument until she felt the heat curl within her and suddenly explode in a flash of ecstasy that left her panting for breath and unable to move.

“Merlin,” she breathed after a moment as she looked at his unreadable face and he slowly crawled up her body.

He sneered down at her and replied, “no, I’m more powerful than even him.

She snorted slightly before responding in a cold voice of her own, “I do hate you, you know that, right?”

“I hate you as well, Mudblood,” he growled before slamming his hard cock deeply inside of her until his pelvis hit her body and her fingers dug into his arms.

“Fuck!” she yelled without realizing the words were leaving her mouth as he pounded mercilessly into her and the air crackled with renewed intensity. She felt as though he were ripping her apart, but at the same time her body was screaming for more. Her hips rose to meet his every thrust and when he quickened his pace, she quickened hers as well, never letting him move ahead of her and always staying with him.

“Yes, witch! Fuck me back!” he snarled in her ear as he forced himself back inside of her and she met him over and over again. His mouth found her hardened nipples and he bit down with excruciating force, bringing another cry from the witch as blood seeped from the wound and he licked it greedily.

She clung to him as their slick, sweaty bodies fought each other to completion. When Hermione thought she couldn’t take it any longer, when she felt as though her body would surely give out before it got what it so desperately craved, she felt his hand slide between them and pinch her clit hard, sending her flying into oblivion as she convulsed around him.

“Tom!” she screamed loudly as her orgasm overtook her common sense.

His own orgasm hit him so hard that he failed to understand the name she had screamed. He came hard inside of her, as her muscles clamped on his swollen cock and milked every last drop from his body before he collapsed on top of her and her arms wrapped around him.

Slowly, he rolled off her body and lay beside her. She knew there would be no cuddling or touching after they were finished, but she was so busy trying to catch her own breath she didn’t even think to care.

“I’ve killed people for less than that, witch,” he said quietly, his voice strained in a way she’d never heard before.

“For having sex with you?” she asked confusedly.

“For calling me by that name,” he said sharply.

“Oh, I didn’t even realize,” she said, thinking back and suddenly remembering that she had indeed called him by the name he shared with his father.

“I suppose I can allow you that indiscretion while we are alone together. However, if you so much as utter the first letter when we are not in this room, I will make you wish you were dead before I finish torturing you, is that understood?”

“Of course, Milord,” she answered quietly, grinning evilly to herself.

“Why do you refer to me as such and not ‘Master’ like the others?” he asked after a minute.

“I will call you whatever you wish, Milord, but I do have my dignity still intact and would prefer to call no man my master. I refer to Lucius as such out of respect when others are there and I will willingly do the same for you.”

“I was only curious, Mudblood, there is no need to change it. However,” he said, rolling to his side to look down upon her beautifully flushed and relaxed face, “I still mean what I said earlier, call me ‘Tom’ outside of this room and you will pay dearly.”

“Tom,” she said softly, looking into his scarlet eyes and testing the name upon her lips as she pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “I think I like that.”

He looked at her appraisingly and then said, “get dressed, it’s time for you to go back to your quarters.”

Hermione made to stand and was immediately struck with a searing pain in her abdomen. “Good gods, that hurts,” she said, wincing as she bent over slightly.

A mirthless chuckle met her ears as Tom said coldly, “if you cannot handle me, witch, I can send Severus up with a pain potion for you.”

She hid her pain immediately and turned to face him. Bending over the bed she traced his cheek again, noticing he didn’t flinch from her touch this time, and replied, “I’m fine, it’s just that you’re slightly bigger than I’ve had before and it will take some time, and practice, to get used to you.”

He grinned up at her, an honest to Merlin grin, and said, “my ego is not at risk, Pet, and rest assured, you will have plenty of practice. Get your robe and come back to me immediately.”

She did as instructed and walked to the bathroom to pick up her robe. Slipping her arms through on her way back to his room, she tied it around her waist as she walked back through the door. With a snap of his fingers, she felt herself being squeezed as if through a pipe and closed her eyes tightly. When the feeling disappeared, she opened her eyes to find herself back in her own room and staring at the back of man with long, dark hair and billowing robes.