Green Eyes
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
22,505
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
3
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/Voldemort
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
22,505
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
3
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Chapter 9
“What a beautiful Monday morning!“ Minerva trilled as she and Hermione walked across the rolling Hogwarts lawn on Monday morning. “The birds are singing, the sun is shining, the grass is green, and we have a wonderful Care of Magical Creatures lesson to get to.”
“True…” Hermione murmured, not looking up. The surroundings could have been a bomb-stricken wasteland for all she had noticed.
It had been two days since the marking - two days of angst, torture, and, worst of all, nightmares infested with burning grey eyes.
That is, when I manage to sleep at all, of course. Hermione thought wryly, because she couldn’t remember clearly the last time she had slept - or eaten, for that matter.
Instead she had been spending her time trying to avoid Riddle. So far she had succeeded, but somehow she felt it was a losing battle. How long do I have before he just appears out of thin air and starts doing Merlin knows what to me? Hermione wondered sadly.
Minerva cast a sideways glance at Hermione, watching her float along like a forlorn fairy.
“You know, Hermione, are you sure you’re alright?“ Minerva suddenly asked. “You’re looking awfully pale and skinny….“
Hermione frowned, and unconsciously tried to fluff up her gaunt robes.
“In fact…” Minerva continued to think aloud, “you’ve been awfully jumpy since…” Suddenly her eyes narrowed, and she rounded on her friend. “Hermione, what exactly did you do the Saturday we went to Hogsmeade?”
Hermione answered without thinking. “Not much really…I wondered about the castle for a bit…and then Riddle found me down in the - “
And suddenly Hermione was keeling over on the grass, clutching and clawing at her midriff in agony. The surface of her stomach had erupted in pain as soon as she had mentioned Riddle. She could feel the clear liquid materialize on her skin, attempt to eat it away before sizzling on the green grass below.
She had forgotten about ‘the rules’ - no touching other men, and absolutely no telling.
As soon as the red haze of pain began to fade, Hermione dimly began to register that Minerva was ranting at her, very loudly.
“….don’t know what’s going on with you, Hermione! Do you have a stomach ache? Did those crabs burn you yesterday in potions? Because I told Professor Wallace, I knew that live fire crabs were far too dangerous to use for a simple Hiccupping Solution. We could have used bubotuber pus instead!” Minerva gasped. “Oh gosh, I’ve just remembered! It’s the bubotuber pus I spilt on you on Saturday, isn’t it? I cant believe you didn’t tell me you were injured. Did you know you’ve got Max and me worried out of our minds?”
Hermione stumbled to her feet, still hunched over her tender stomach. All the noise was hurting her head. “Minerva - please.”
Minerva halted mid-rant.
“I’m just tired, ok?” Hermione lied, lamely. “And I’m on my period. I get bad cramps.”
Minerva knew that the conversation was over. But she pursed her lips, and resolved to find out what was going on, soon.
****
Care of Magical Creatures proved less wonderful than Minerva had predicted.
The Care of Magical Creatures professor showed them a pen filled with what looked like angry, overgrown green lobsters. “Meet the mackled malacaw, a fire-breathing creature whose bite will bring you one week of extremely bad luck.” the professor said. He then grinned. “Today you’ll be clipping their toenails.”
“Clipping their toenails?” Minerva whispered, as one horned malacaw let out a burst of blue flames. “Oh, brother.”
Hermione as usual was finding the lesson hard to concentrate on, but was forced to attention by a loud yell behind her. “Oi, Hart! Watch out behind you!“ Seconds before it was too late, her partner - a Slytherin boy she didn’t know - had grabbed her arm with both hands and pulled her out of the warpath of their charging, fire-snorting malacaw.
As soon as the boy touched her, Hermione’s back arched, and she almost screamed at the huge shock of fiery pain that suddenly hit her.
It felt like someone was holding a lighted match to her back.
“Bathroom - b-bathroom,” she gasped at her confused partner before sprinting up to the castle. She blanched to see a word finely sliced in large cursive across her shoulder blades. Blood was already seeping from the wound.
‘VOLDEMORT's’, it read.
Hermione saw immediately that Riddle’s spell was similar to Umbridge’s detention pen - the more contact she had with other men, the more permanent the word would become.
Great, she thought. Half my back will be eaten away before I’ve walked through one crowded hallway. It was a good thing that Hermione had spent the whole weekend locked in the Common Room.
After mopping up the blood she returned reluctantly to class, and was confronted by her smug looking partner. “Whew,“ he said. “You must be awfully glad that someone was paying attention to that crazy crab. Saved you a week of bad luck, didn’t I?“
If bad luck is finding out you are trapped in a possessive relationship (bordering on slavery) with the greatest dark wizard ever known, Hermione thought, then I beg to differ.
“True…” Hermione murmured, not looking up. The surroundings could have been a bomb-stricken wasteland for all she had noticed.
It had been two days since the marking - two days of angst, torture, and, worst of all, nightmares infested with burning grey eyes.
That is, when I manage to sleep at all, of course. Hermione thought wryly, because she couldn’t remember clearly the last time she had slept - or eaten, for that matter.
Instead she had been spending her time trying to avoid Riddle. So far she had succeeded, but somehow she felt it was a losing battle. How long do I have before he just appears out of thin air and starts doing Merlin knows what to me? Hermione wondered sadly.
Minerva cast a sideways glance at Hermione, watching her float along like a forlorn fairy.
“You know, Hermione, are you sure you’re alright?“ Minerva suddenly asked. “You’re looking awfully pale and skinny….“
Hermione frowned, and unconsciously tried to fluff up her gaunt robes.
“In fact…” Minerva continued to think aloud, “you’ve been awfully jumpy since…” Suddenly her eyes narrowed, and she rounded on her friend. “Hermione, what exactly did you do the Saturday we went to Hogsmeade?”
Hermione answered without thinking. “Not much really…I wondered about the castle for a bit…and then Riddle found me down in the - “
And suddenly Hermione was keeling over on the grass, clutching and clawing at her midriff in agony. The surface of her stomach had erupted in pain as soon as she had mentioned Riddle. She could feel the clear liquid materialize on her skin, attempt to eat it away before sizzling on the green grass below.
She had forgotten about ‘the rules’ - no touching other men, and absolutely no telling.
As soon as the red haze of pain began to fade, Hermione dimly began to register that Minerva was ranting at her, very loudly.
“….don’t know what’s going on with you, Hermione! Do you have a stomach ache? Did those crabs burn you yesterday in potions? Because I told Professor Wallace, I knew that live fire crabs were far too dangerous to use for a simple Hiccupping Solution. We could have used bubotuber pus instead!” Minerva gasped. “Oh gosh, I’ve just remembered! It’s the bubotuber pus I spilt on you on Saturday, isn’t it? I cant believe you didn’t tell me you were injured. Did you know you’ve got Max and me worried out of our minds?”
Hermione stumbled to her feet, still hunched over her tender stomach. All the noise was hurting her head. “Minerva - please.”
Minerva halted mid-rant.
“I’m just tired, ok?” Hermione lied, lamely. “And I’m on my period. I get bad cramps.”
Minerva knew that the conversation was over. But she pursed her lips, and resolved to find out what was going on, soon.
****
Care of Magical Creatures proved less wonderful than Minerva had predicted.
The Care of Magical Creatures professor showed them a pen filled with what looked like angry, overgrown green lobsters. “Meet the mackled malacaw, a fire-breathing creature whose bite will bring you one week of extremely bad luck.” the professor said. He then grinned. “Today you’ll be clipping their toenails.”
“Clipping their toenails?” Minerva whispered, as one horned malacaw let out a burst of blue flames. “Oh, brother.”
Hermione as usual was finding the lesson hard to concentrate on, but was forced to attention by a loud yell behind her. “Oi, Hart! Watch out behind you!“ Seconds before it was too late, her partner - a Slytherin boy she didn’t know - had grabbed her arm with both hands and pulled her out of the warpath of their charging, fire-snorting malacaw.
As soon as the boy touched her, Hermione’s back arched, and she almost screamed at the huge shock of fiery pain that suddenly hit her.
It felt like someone was holding a lighted match to her back.
“Bathroom - b-bathroom,” she gasped at her confused partner before sprinting up to the castle. She blanched to see a word finely sliced in large cursive across her shoulder blades. Blood was already seeping from the wound.
‘VOLDEMORT's’, it read.
Hermione saw immediately that Riddle’s spell was similar to Umbridge’s detention pen - the more contact she had with other men, the more permanent the word would become.
Great, she thought. Half my back will be eaten away before I’ve walked through one crowded hallway. It was a good thing that Hermione had spent the whole weekend locked in the Common Room.
After mopping up the blood she returned reluctantly to class, and was confronted by her smug looking partner. “Whew,“ he said. “You must be awfully glad that someone was paying attention to that crazy crab. Saved you a week of bad luck, didn’t I?“
If bad luck is finding out you are trapped in a possessive relationship (bordering on slavery) with the greatest dark wizard ever known, Hermione thought, then I beg to differ.