A Tale of Two Wizards

Disclaimer: Jo's the lucky girly that owns these characters and not I! Sadly.

angel: I choked up myself when I wrote this.

Anon: Thank you for pointing those things out to me, but might I remind you that this what I call 'fun', I am not being paid to write this story, and my search for a beta has been like Frodo's Quest to destroy the one ring. The only answer I give to the chain thing, is that they are EXTREMELY long chains AND are easy to move around in, and besides it's not as if Jo herself has not got plot inconsistences... like Marcus Flint and the Extra Year, and she never explained how Harry got the map back in GoF either. As for the amount of exclamation marks, I think I calmed down on that later on... oh and I realise that I might have made the characters slightly AU. I could use your constructive criticism on one of my original works though... anyway, here's another chapter, and I can only apologise for the mistakes, just bear in mind, though, that is just a bit of fun.

Warning: Non Con sex!

Devil Love

Hermione was feeling very uncomfortable. She had been here for over a week now. She was sitting on a sofa directly opposite Lord Voldemort, and even though she weren’t scared of saying his name she was scared of him. Anyone sensible would be. She had stirred her tea and sipped it silently. Lord Voldemort had got one of his spies from St Mungo’s to mend her legs and to put her ribs back together again. She smiled a little unsure smile, as he turned to look at her.

“You do know why you are here don’t you?” Lord Voldemort asked her in a sibilant whisper.

“Because you’re lonely?” Hermione hazarded in a light playful tone.

Lord Voldemort swooped down on her furiously and trapped her with his hands just above her head, his red eyes glowing maliciously.

“If you are flippant again, Miss Granger, I could quite easily arrange it for you so that it would be the last thing you ever will be,” Lord Voldemort snarled. He flicked his tongue in and out to show how angry he was.

Hermione quivered slightly and when he saw that she was sufficiently afraid of him he stepped back and sat down. He stroked the spine of a book he was holding and smiled.

“So, why am I here then?” She asked.

He sighed.

“To get you away from bad influences,” he replied in a bored tone. He was this close to yawning. “I have to be honest with you, Miss Granger, you do realise that you are hanging around with a bunch of mindless, worthless specimens of mankind in the world. I should know, as I have one of them fawning on me day and night. The simpering cowardly wreck that he is! I suppose I am lonesome for some female company. I have not had any proper female company for a while.”

Hermione wanted to ask something, but thought it would be taken the wrong way, and kept her mouth shut. Instead, she sipped some more of her tea and got up. She weren’t in pain anymore, and could walk about freely. It was something that Lucius had insisted she’d be able to do as soon as possible. He was determined to sleep with her again, and for a whole night. Not just half an hour or so, he wanted her the way Snape had her. Lord Voldemort had been in full agreement to this. The quicker she was healthier and fitter the better her chances of conception were.

“Can I read any of these?” She asked.

Lord Voldemort got up and walked over to the bookshelf, Hermione thought that he was going to be angry with her again.

“You remind me of someone, Miss Granger,” Lord Voldemort said. “I can’t put my finger on it, but you seem familiar in some way. I feel like I know who you are through someone connected to us both.”

Hermione looked down on the floor and gulped a little. She did not know when she was more afraid of him. When he was angry or when he went melancholic. She did not think the Master of all evil could ever get melancholic. Yet, here he was, slipping off into a nostalgic dream.

“It could possibly be Harry Potter?” She ventured cautiously.

“Not him,” Lord Voldemort said. “No, someone else. Are you sure you are a muggleborn?”

He turned around and tilted her chin up with his long, slender middle finger and examined her critically, tilting her head this way and that. He stepped up closer to her, and made her look in his eyes, and she could not escape his gaze. He began tracing his skeletal fingers along her jaw line, and she opened her mouth, he lowered his hand to her breast and wondered what it would be like with a muggleborn. He had ordered that she would become the bride of either Lucius or Severus, whichever one had pleased him the most at the time, but he could not help but think of what she might be like as LADY Voldemort. The possibility was not entirely improbable, and he knew that he would HAVE to have a LADY to make any sense. To set the example!

Yes, he found it now, the connection. She was her granddaughter! A muggleborn definitely, but they had a connection.

“Um,” Hermione coughed. “Can I choose a book?”

“No,” Lord Voldemort said. “I want you to tell me about your grandmother.”

“My grandmother why?”

“Please,” Lord Voldemort said. “Sit back down.”

Hermione furrowed her brow in thought and shook her head. Why did he want to know about a muggle woman for?

“All right,” Hermione began a little unsteadily, as she sat back down. “My grandmother was called Jane, which is why that is my middle name. And she was born in 1923, so when the Second World War started she was 17. She had a little sister that no one knew what happened to her. Apparently she died in the school she went to in 1942. My grandmother never spoke about her saying that she was a dark person not to be talked off. She had brown eyes but they were always sad. She had a happy marriage. My father is her son.”

“What about your mothers mother?”

“She died before I was born, sir, I don’t know much about her except that she had a wonderful sense of humour, was a nurse and her name was Hermione, again that is why I am called Hermione.”

Lord Voldemort sat back in his chair and elegantly crossed his legs, the rustle of the robes made Hermione draw in her breath slightly.

“It is definitely your first grandmother, she had a sister that was killed in 1942, you said.”

“Yes, why?”

Lord Voldemort got out of his seat and then walked up to her.

“Do you know her maiden name?” He asked.

“Payne,” Hermione said.

Lord Voldemort then looked again at Hermione.

“Yes, I thought so,” he mused. “You are a muggleborn, but you do have ties with the Wizarding world previous to this.” Hermione spluttered out her tea. “That is not very lady like is it?” He sneered.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Your great aunt went to Hogwarts, she was the one that was killed in 1942 by me. That is the connection.”

Despite herself Hermione snorted in contempt.

“Oh please,” she said. “I have only got used to being a muggleborn.”

“Does the name Myrtle Payne mean anything to you?” Lord Voldemort asked acidly.

Hermione put a hand to her mouth in shock.

“Moaning Myrtle is my great aunt?” She asked growing pale at the very thought. Poor Harry. Her ancestor had flirted with him!

“I think so,” Lord Voldemort said. “I am prepared to check the records of any muggleborn before I kill them or torture them. Many muggleborns are sometimes what I call Lost Blood.”

“Lost Blood?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, you see some muggleborns centuries ago were actually purity, but they married muggles, and then produced Squibs, who then married more muggles until eventually they become so muggle they forget that they were Wizards at one time. To have two in one family is indicative of that I think.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. This was supposed to be the evil Dark Lord and yet he was talking like – well if she had to admit it – like her. Perhaps being a know-it-all weren’t such a good thing after all. She sank down on the seat and drank the rest of her scalding tea as she tried to take it all in.

“But, why do you do that?” She asked.

“My dear child I hope you don’t have this image of me just randomly killing people? Oh no, I always do my research before I kill them.”

“Cedric Diggory!” Hermione pointed out.

“Who is he?”

“The spare!” Hermione exclaimed.

Lord Voldemort nodded.

“Ah, yes, well, that was more sort of a nervous reaction, I was only expecting one champion that day. Not two.”

Hermione sighed and looked down into her tea, she swirled it around.

“So, you are going to research my family tree then?” She asked.

Lord Voldemort’s eyes glowed.

“Not straight away,” he said. “I am going to have to sort you out first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before I research your family tree there is something I want you to do for me first!”

Hermione’s heart had started to pound so furiously it was in her throat. He glided over towards her and smiling he picked her up by her small little hand.

“What is that, sir?”

“I want you to kiss me,” Lord Voldemort said.

Hermione blinked. She was not sure of her position.

“K – kiss you? I, a Mudblood, kiss the greatest Dark Lord ever known, why?”

Lord Voldemort rolled his eyes.

“Some are born great,” Lord Voldemort began as he firmly placed his lips on hers. “Some achieve greatness!” She could not help but respond. He was, after all, powerful, he was also demanding, too. She knew he would not fight for her as much as Snape and Lucius were, but she knew that if she said no she would never see Severus or her friends again. “And some,” Lord Voldemort murmured hungrily in her ear as he slammed her against a wall and hitched her legs up over his waist. She was praying deep down inside that this was some terrible nightmare. He used wandless magic to strip her naked and she realised he expected the same from her. “Have greatness thrust upon them!” He thrust deep inside her, and stayed inside her for a long time, making little thrusting movements, and she screamed each time. He sucked a little at her breasts, and then he made one further last lunge, and she moaned in agony, or ecstasy, she could not quite tell. He then let her go. “Good girl,” he purred in her ear. “I wish all women could be as co-operative as you!”

She panted from her screaming and the sudden passion. She was also sweating slightly whilst he was still cool. It had been no effort for him. She tottered upstairs to have a bath. Never had she felt more ashamed or humiliated than that moment when he thrust inside her first of all. She had to have a bath, perhaps that would wash some of the shame away.

She had reached the bathroom where Lucius was already in the bath. He had his head laid back and he was puffing at a cigarette.

“Want one?” He asked.

“No, thank you, I don’t smoke.”

“Are you all right?” Lucius asked lazily.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I am fine.”

She walked through back to the bedroom, and then she poured her heart out onto the bed, if only she had listened to Severus about the trap stair and then she would have been back with her friends by now. She had sobbed so much she did not notice someone picking her up.

“You are not fine,” Lucius murmured. “Your tears show that.”

“I had just been taken unawares by – by your Dark Master,” she said angrily. Her face had swollen and her eyes were puffy and red. Lucius picked her up in his arms.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“There is a fresh bath waiting for you,” Lucius said. “Come on, I will make sure you are feeling a whole lot better.”

“You don’t care if I live or die,” Hermione said accusingly.

“I am hurt,” Lucius said. He bent down and kissed her. He took her mouth in his and savoured all her flavour. “After your bath, Mya, I am going to show you exactly how much I care for you!”

Hermione giggled through her tears, bit by bit she was forgetting what it was like to be with Severus, she tried to remember with all her might, but the more she spent here, the more time she had spent with Lucius, the less she could recall of her one night with Severus. Lucius it seemed did care for her, enough anyway to make her feel like a Princess.

*******************

Severus was no closer at the end of the week to finding her, as he was at the start of the week. There was only one place where she could be so well concealed, and he dreaded that place more than anything. The Dark Lord might not know anything about love, but he knew instinct, and if his instincts told him that Hermione Granger was a beautiful, worthy mate, he’d mate with her, for that is what it would be to him, a mating ceremony, all over in a matter of minutes.

His heart stopped beating, and he felt a sudden cold rush of panic creep over him. That meant one thing…

She was, at this moment in time, in incredible pain! He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead and onto his neck. He had to admit defeat in front of Potter; there was no way he could do this on his own. He needed help. The only people he knew sly enough to help him were the Weasley twins. He had to go to their - he shuddered - joke shop and beg them for help.

A/N A bit squicky I know, so please what do you all think? I love this chapter though, as I believe that LV would have sex just out of instinct.