Death Row

A/N- This is the chapter that catches everyone up to where I am. Now back to writing it.

            Upstairs he mumbled the spell to remove their clothes and laid her in the bed, crawling in next to her and closing his eyes. Truthfully, he was incredibly exhausted. They both fell into a deep sleep. Hermione woke several hours later to Voldemort’s arms wrapped tightly around her body. Hermione smiled and snuggled closer, “That was a good nap,” she said.

            “Mmhmm,” he mumbled. “You’re beautiful.”

            “You’re wonderful,” she grinned. “We need food, Voldemort.”

            “I know,” he sat up and looked around. More clothes were sitting out, and there was a door to a bathroom he didn’t recall seeing before. He got up and entered it, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to piss. When he exited Hermione was almost finished getting dressed. He put some clothes on and Hermione moved to his arms, “What?”

            “Are you okay? You thought you were going to die.”

            “I have you, apparently I also have a bestselling book, and to add on to that I’m alive. Pretty excellent turn of events, I think.”

            “Well if you want to talk I’m here,” she kissed him.

            “Thanks, but I’m fine.” Hermione bit her tongue. If he wanted to tell her something he would. She didn’t doubt that. “Let’s go eat,” he opened the bedroom door, “ladies first.”

            After dinner Voldemort went to talk with the delegates while Hermione spent time with the Muses. “Are you deities,” she asked.

            “Not deities, no. But we are….beings. Not of this world.”

            “So you can’t die?”

            “We can’t live either,” another Muse answered. “We rarely eat, drink, bathe…human functions are dull. We never sleep, never have sex.”

            “So what do you do?”

            “Inspire,” Melpomene answered. “We inspire the mortals, just like the bards and poets wrote long ago.” Hermione nodded. That made sense. “We must ask you a question, Hermione Granger,” Melpomene looked her in the eye, “when you were having sex with Voldemort, you were pushing the magical energy the two of you created in your coupling into him. Were you conscious of that?”

            “No,” she shook her head. “How can you tell? I don’t know any magic that could do that.”

            “We could see it,” she answered. “You have Muggle parents, correct?”

            “Yes,” she nodded.

            “Are you sure?”

            Hermione frowned, “What are you suggesting?”

            “That at least one of your parents was not Muggle; perhaps not even mortal.”

            Hermione just stared, “What?” Voldemort was standing in the doorway. “What are you talking about?”

            “She was giving you magical power, even if your body couldn’t do more than absorb it. One’s body doesn’t just do that without purpose.”

            “What kind of being does that?”

            “Muses do,” she said, “and Nymphs, certain vampires…if you don’t mind, Hermione, we would like to scan you, see if we can learn more.”

            Hermione looked at Voldemort, who looked very confused. She thought about it for a few moments before deciding, “Yes,” she nodded, “I would like that.”

            Voldemort watched as the Muses moved around Hermione, their eyes closed and palms out toward her. “Your blood is half that of a nymph.”

            “I’m….part nymph?”

            “That explains alot,” Voldemort muttered. “Sexually…Hermione is quite insatiable when we’re intimate together.”

            “You’ve never complained,” she said.

            “Why would I?” He tilted his head, confused. Hermione moved to him and kissed him, “I love you.”

            “I love you too,” she smiled at him and pulled his arms around her. She turned back to the Muses, “but both my parents are Muggles. How can I be a Nymph?”

            “Nymphs can take the form of whomever they wish.”

            “So then I’m not a Muggleborn but a half-blood?”

            “Nymphs aren’t magical in the same way wizards and witches are. So Muggleborn is still an accurate term. I’m going to guess that it’s your mother; Nymphs are female in general.”

            “But I’m a witch. How can I be both?”

            “I don’t know,” Melpomene sighed and indicated that they both should sit down. “I have never come across this before. However, it’s worth it to study. Are you sure your mother isn’t a nymph?”

            “I’ve never asked my parents about their sex life,” Hermione said. Voldemort simply smirked. “But if I’m a Nymph…what does that mean?”

            “It’s good for Voldemort. He can get recharged magically through you sexually.”

            “Yet another reason to want to make love to you,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her.

            “You might become more wanton, now that you know about it,” Melpomene said. “I will look into this. It is late now, I’m sure you two will wish to retire soon.”