Augury & Ardor

Author's Notes: Warning: For those of you who were here for the steamy sex, alone - expect a drought. Sorry. I hope you'll stick with me, anyway. ;)

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The next morning, she awakened to find herself draped over him again, her arm across his chest and her hand tucked under his neck. It was the chill in the room after the unexpected heat of the grove the previous day that stayed her, she reasoned. It was warm in the curve of his arm. She closed her eyes again and lay there listening to the steady beat of his heart, refusing to consider why she felt so peaceful.


The same evening of their outing, he’d been more ill tempered than usual. After dinner, he’d stood to leave and before she could stop herself, she’d asked him where he was going. “Anywhere,” had been his answer. She must have reacted to his abrupt reply because he’d fixed her with a glittering black gaze and explained that if he stayed, he was going to take her back to bed.


“I imagine you’d prefer I went out,” he’d snapped and Disapparated seconds later.


On his return, very late that same evening, she’d awakened as he slid into bed. He’d smelled faintly of spirits and, to her confusion, she’d felt a pang of jealousy, wondering where he’d been and with whom. It took a long time for her to settle and she only found restless slumber after convincing herself the jealousy she’d felt had been for his freedom, not his company.


Sometime later, after she’d finished ruminating about the night before, his arm tightened around her. Drawing her closer, his free hand moved over the curve of her hip and slope of her thigh. In the quiet morning light, she melted under his gentle explorations. Later, she clung to him, crying out softly against his shoulder as wave after wave of pleasure buffeted her.


She was dozing back to sleep, half aware that Severus was at the table pouring himself tea, when a rap at the door startled her fully awake. Pushing up on one elbow, she smoothed the hair away from her face and saw a look of disgust cross his before he answered the summons.


The midwives were as horrible as ever, stripping the sheet down and restraining her although she hadn’t struggled against them for ages. Lying there, waiting for them to finish and go away, she hardly paid attention to the tear-shaped device swaying over her abdomen. A gasp from one of the witches, however, drew her attention to it and she, too, gasped at its unexpected movement.


“What?” Severus demanded, rising from his chair at the table.


“She is gravid,” one of the witches muttered, thunderstruck by the figure eight movement of the device. She turned to the other witch, a wide smile stretching her mouth. “Go tell the Dark Lord.”


“You’ll hold your tongues,” Severus interjected softly. His tone, while low, was so dangerous that neither witch challenged him. “I will inform Lord Voldemort directly. Take your things and get out. If I learn you’ve breathed a word of this to anyone before I’ve conveyed the news, you’ll rue the day you learned to speak.”


The midwives shuffled out, mumbling darkly to themselves, leaving Hermione lying there as if hit by a Full Body Bind. She was pregnant.


Her eyes flew to his, but other than a rather grim set to his mouth, she couldn’t read his expression. For many silent moments, they studied the other. Finally, as he shrugged into his frock coat, he asked in a steady tone, “How do you feel?”


She shook her head as if to clear it. Pregnant. Could it be true? It seemed ridiculous. Impossible.


“Hermione?” A slight frown deepened the lines between his eyebrows as he moved to the bedside. He lowered his hip to the edge of the mattress and reached out to grasp her chin. “Are you all right?”


“I – I’m…” she began, only to shake her head and look up at him in disbelief. “I’m – I’m pregnant?”


“So it would seem,” he replied, exhaling sharply through his nose as he studied her face. “I need to go out. Are you all right?”


She nodded, still at a loss for words. Everything seemed surreal, from the fall of early morning light across the bed to the look of concern in his black eyes.


“You look faint,” he remarked, his gaze moving over her pale face. “Stay in bed. I’ll send Purl and Bitsy in to tend you.”


“I – I’m fine,” she said in a perfunctory fashion. Her thoughts were so fractured she could barely concentrate.


“Nevertheless, you’ll wait until they arrive to get out of bed,” he said, waiting until she nodded before adding, “let them make you a tray. Eat something. I may be a while.”


She nodded again and watched as he stood and finished dressing. When he had, he looked back at her and she was struck, once more, at the duality of the man before her. Not an hour earlier he’d been moving over her, his eyes velvet black and his voice a silken caress as he’d guided her body to gratification. Now, dressed all in black, his posture rigid and his expression closed, she could hardly believe he was the same man. She blinked in surprise at the sharp crack as he Disapparated.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Severus ground his teeth in fury as he Apparated into Voldemort’s study. Is there ever a moment Lucius Malfoy isn't ingratiating himself to the Dark Lord?


“Lucius,” he acknowledged with a curl of his lip before turning to Voldemort. “My Lord, I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I had hoped to talk to you this morning.”


“I eat little these days,” Voldemort said, leaning back in his chair to study the black-haired wizard. “Speak.”


Severus glanced at Lucius Malfoy’s pale, patrician face before replying carefully, “If we might have a moment alone, my Lord?”


“I’ll consider your request, Lucius. We’ll talk later.” Voldemort dismissed the blond man without another look. His eyes were fixed on Severus with interest. Something about the dark-haired man’s demeanor piqued his curiosity.


Both men were silent as Lucius rose, bowed, and walked from the room. When the door closed behind him, Voldemort smiled slightly. “You have something important to discuss with me, haven’t you?”


“You are perceptive, my Lord,” Severus replied. “The girl is pregnant.”


Voldemort rose with a smile that did nothing to soften his features; rather, it made him look more monstrous and inhuman. Crossing to the other wizard, he clasped his shoulder and squeezed it. “I am greatly pleased, Severus.” His chuckle was the sound of ice breaking free in a frigid river. He squeezed his shoulder once more before releasing it. “That’s not all you wanted, though, is it? Now is the time -- when I’m feeling generous -- to ask a boon.”


“Serving you is all the reward I require,” Severus said slowly, as if formulating his thoughts. “I merely wished to suggest the girl remain with me. While those who follow you are undoubtedly loyal, that loyalty might become…unfocused in the face of their own desire. I fear the child may be at risk if the girl were left to the mercy of those who are, shall we say, a bit unrestrained in their enthusiasm.”


“You’re perceptive as well, Severus,” Voldemort replied. “No doubt you suspected Lucius’ purpose here, this morning. He was petitioning, just before you appeared, that once the girl was impregnated, she be shared.”


Severus met the Dark Lord’s red eyes, his face a dispassionate mask. “It’s no secret he and Draco want the girl. However, it has crossed my mind that Lucius might arrange for her to miscarry if she fell into his power.” At the look of fury that flashed in Voldemort’s eyes, Severus concluded smoothly, “In his hopes of winning your favor by substituting a Malfoy babe for mine, I fear he might forget, as he illustrated yesterday, the terms of the prophecy.”


He let that sink in a moment before continuing, “This child is too important to risk, my Lord. Your return to full power rests in the womb of a girl who has just now come to accept my company. Her pride would undoubtedly prompt her to fight and perhaps injure herself or the babe in attempt to retain her virtue.”


“You make a good point, Severus,” Voldemort replied, as he paced the rug, his voice cold with fury at the picture Severus had painted. “The girl will remain under your supervision.” Slowly, he regained his composure and, gazing over at the poised black-haired wizard before him, a smile returned to his thin lips. “You won’t mind the task, I think, of continuing to supervise her. She’s pleased you, hasn’t she?”


“She has been…useful,” Severus replied, inclining his head in acknowledgement of the honor he’d been given. “But my appetite is, as yours, not as developed as others. Let Malfoy and the rest think she remains with me for my amusement. However, I think now that the girl is pregnant, I will leave her in peace and resume my abstinence.”


Voldemort laughed, obviously amused by his servant’s singular character and more than pleased with his service.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was late afternoon before Severus returned. She was in the bathroom, letting the second tubful of water cool around her, when he appeared in the doorway. They didn’t speak for the space of a few heartbeats, before he broke the silence. “How do you feel?”


“I’m not sure,” she replied honestly. All day she’d felt as if she’d been injected with Novocain. She felt numb and disconnected from reality.


“You ate?”


She sat up and pushed her hair away from her face. “I tried.”


The furrow reappeared between his brows. Reaching out, he took a towel off its peg and held it open. “Come. Purl and Bitsy are bringing tea.”


Hardly aware of their words, Hermione nodded dumbly to Purl and Bitsy’s squeaking congratulations as they served tea. Whenever she looked over at Severus, his eyes were on her, his expression grave. He pushed food at her, and she ate it, but she couldn’t have said what it was; she hardly tasted it.


Less than a month had passed since she’d left Hogwarts and her life was unrecognizable. “What’s going to happen, now?” she finally asked after the house-elves left the room.


“You’ll remain here, with me, for the duration of your pregnancy.”


“What about my family? My studies?” she asked, thinking of the endless weeks stretching out before her.


“They are secondary to this,” he replied evenly.


“To you. To him, maybe,” she cried, gesturing at the door and leaning forward in her seat. “They’re very important to me. I can’t stay here indefinitely. I just can’t.”


“It isn’t indefinitely. It’s until the child is born,” he answered in his maddeningly calm manner.


“I don’t want it. I don’t want this,” she yelled, whipping herself into a fury. “I won’t do this!”


“You have little recourse,” he replied. “You are pregnant, whether you desire it or not.”


“For now,” she lashed out.


She’d barely opened her mouth to speculate on how she could change her fate when she was pulled to her feet, her face clamped in a vice-like grip. His face was inches from hers and his voice was barely a hiss when he spoke. “You will not speak further on that subject nor pursue that line of thought again. If I hear you’ve done so much as sit down too hard, I will tie you to the bed and have the elves feed you your meals. Do I make myself plain?”


“Y-yes,” she stammered, frightened by the ice in his tone.


It was his glittering gaze that held her in place more than the continued pressure of his grip. “For the next nine months, your safety and the safety of the child you carry will be my focus. You will remain here with me in my rooms. However, now that you’re pregnant, you’ll be happy to know you no longer have to suffer my unwanted attention. I’ll do whatever I can, within reason, to make sure you’re entertained so long as you remain obedient and civil. So you see, your life here will be as pleasant or unpleasant as you make it.”