Snape was the one given the task of summoning Hermione Granger into the sitting room with the Dark Lord. He had found her in the library, hunched over a large book about time travel. She had looked up when he had entered and frowned deeply.
"The Dark Lord calls upon your presence." He said, motioning her to follow.
"I don't suppose refusal is an offer?" she said wistfully. Severus managed a tight smirk.
"I'm afraid not Miss Granger."
"Weasley." She snapped, standing and walking out of the room unsteadily. Snape followed at an arm's length away.
"Don't be so afraid," he commented dryly. "It's only for dinner; you will be dining separately from the rest of the guests. The Dark Lord isn't so ungentlemanly that he doesn't get to know the woman he will be consorting with."
Hermione turned her head and cast him a disdainful glance. Terror was seizing her as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Snape guided her away from the dining room down another hallway; this one was smaller, more cramped. Hermione felt as if she was suffocating while the chilly house sapped away her strength and bravery. They came to stop in front a set of doors and Severus stepped lightly in front of her, opening them both in a dramatic fashion, revealing a room lit only by the fireplace. There was a smaller table in the middle of the room, it was decorated with all sorts of food and Hermione became painfully aware that she had not eaten anything since that morning.
"My Lord," Snape said, bending down on one knee. Hermione dared her eyes to follow the direction of her former Professor's words and saw the dreaded wizard situated in an elegant chair not far from where she stood.
"Ah, Severus," Voldemort hissed. He was dressed in finely woven robes, Nagini wrapped around his shoulders. "Thank you for bringing her to me, now leave us."
Hermione watched, horrified as Severus cast her only a fleeting glance before leaving her alone with the most terrifying wizard of her era. The snake like man watched her curiously, his red eyes boring into her mind, causing her heart to beat faster. He was like a reptile, assessing a lone rabbit, and then zeroing in for an easy meal.
"Hello my dear," Voldemort rasped. "Please, won't you sit?" he motioned a skeletal hand towards the other chair at the end of the table.
Hermione wasn't sure she could force herself to move but gathered every ounce of power in her body and lurched towards her place. The snake man smirked at her, or maybe he was smiling, she wasn't too sure.
"G-g-good evening," she said, her throat dry and her lips quivering. Voldemort laughed at this, a cold, harsh laugh.
"I assume we can be more casual with each other? You need not fear me as of now, you're no good to me dead." The Dark Lord said, Hermione didn't miss that he had said as of now. She looked down at her empty plate and realized that all past whimsies of eating were now gone. She could not eat in his presence.
Voldemort appeared to think otherwise however, and with a lazy flick of his wand, food appeared within her grasp. "Eat." It wasn't an offer.
She obeyed, shoving the food into her mouth and chewing gently. He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, examining her as if she were a prize horse. His eyes raked over her hair, her face, her body. Every inch of exposed flesh was hungrily absorbed by his disturbing gaze.
"Have you found all of my servants accommodating?" he asked cordially. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide. She felt a sense of power coarse through her at that moment, the power to decide whether or not Draco Malfoy would be punished for his actions earlier.
She thought better of it, his punishment would likely end in death, and she couldn't have that on her conscience. Slowly, Hermione nodded her head yes.
"Speak!" he snapped, she started, swallowing her food too quickly.
"Y-yes, yes sir." She spit out, fearful. He chuckled slowly.
"Come here." He ordered. Hermione slid her chair out and slowly made her way to stand beside him. He looked at her with those terrible eyes again. "How do you like it here? Do not fear me, speak without that idiotic stuttering."
"It is nice," she said slowly, surprising herself at how steady her voice seemed. "The Malfoys have been kind."
"None of them have touched you?" he asked. She shook her head no, her sleek curled hair bouncing. He took a sip of wine and then continued looking at her. "Do you fear me?"
Slowly, Hermione shook her head yes. At this confession, the Dark Lord threw his head back and laughed. It was a disgusting rasp, like a snake dying of asphyxiation, she flinched. "You are on our side now my dear. There's no need to be afraid of me." He said soothingly, reaching a skeletal hand up to brush her cheek.
The hand was cold, and the fingernails were sharpened to a point. Hermione felt her legs threaten to give out and she fought tears. "Perhaps it's this face you desire to never see again?" his tone was now becoming dangerous.
"N-no!"
"No what?" he challenged.
Hermione swallowed, a lone tear escaping the corner of her eye. "No my Lord." She whispered. Voldemort smiled and stood, setting his wine glass down.
"That's right," he breathed. "I am your Lord now, and I will remain your Lord for a very long time, Hermione Granger."
Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart she told herself. Where is your bravery in the face of the enemy? Hermione's back straightened as she bit her lip to look at him. The Dark Lord's black robes were outlined by the fire as he came as close as he could to her without them brushing against one another. His breath smelt of wine and raw meat, she fought down a gag. His skin was hairless and smooth looking, almost like marble.
"Tell me, truthfully. Would you touch a man that looked like me?" he murmured. She shook her head no, the brown irises meeting the red.
"No m-my Lord." She whispered. He grinned and touched her face again with those dreadful skeleton hands.
"I am a god, Hermione." He hissed. "A god, I do what mortal men cannot. What your Weasley boy could only dream, what Potter can only hope to accomplish. Yet you would rather run to them? To the weaklings?"
"Harry Potter is not a weakling. He will defeat you!" Hermione said, startled by her courage.
Voldemort chuckled, tracing her cheek with his long unkempt nails. "We will see in due time." He murmured. "Do you still fear me? You've spent an evening with the wizard that strikes fear into the strongest of men, am I truly that terrifying?"
Hermione stepped away from his skeleton hand and let her eyes flit to Nagini, the magnificent snake, crawling towards her master slowly, tasting the air with her tongue. "No, I suppose you are not." She said evenly. "If you are a terrible tyrant, at least your table manners are sufficient."
Voldemort smirked at this and pointed his wand at his forehead. Hermione watched with curiosity as his form shimmered until it was Fred standing before her. "How about now? Could you fear the face of your husband?" he asked her.
Hermione was mortified, skittering away from the man before her. Fred… her Fred, but the eyes gave it away, the red irises that glinted so maliciously. "No, please don't." she said, her voice quivering.
The imposter took a step forward, smiling at her. "Shh," he soothed. "It's okay Hermione, you're safe now…" he offered his arms and she was tempted to fall into them. That familiar face, so nice to see again.
"Fred," she whispered, extending a hand which he took, pulled her closer to him. "Oh Fred."
"I'm here. Don't worry." He promised, avoiding her gaze as he bent down to put his lips to hers. Hermione smiled at her husband's face, allowing him to capture her mouth with his.
Then, he grew taller, the warm, freckled arms became cold and bony, the skin became white and smooth. Her eyes flew open to find herself wrapped in the arms of Voldemort, their mouths together, his red eyes jeering.
She tried to pull away but the hands around her waist were now like bars, crushing her body to his. He separated their mouths and looked at her, his stench making her stomach turn. "Well now, I wasn't expecting that reaction." He hissed into her ear, she swallowed the bile rising in her throat as tears poured from her eyes in shock. "Are we attention starved?" he asked.
"Let me go!" Hermione pleaded, shoving away harder, only to be met with stronger resistance.
"Ah, I see, only for your husband will you obey. Very well." His form shimmered again and Fred was facing her once more.
Hermione then saw the differences the two Weasleys, and she wretched, her skin growing clammy. Voldemort's smirk grew into a look of revulsion as he pushed her away from him just in time to watch her vomit onto the carpet. He made a disgusted noise and retreated a few steps away from her, watching with mild interest as she hacked and gagged.
"L-let me go back to m-my room!" Hermione cried, feeling beads of sweat on her brow as she wiped her mouth.
"Stand." Came the cold reply.
"I can't-," a firm hand clamped onto her hair and dragged her up with a yelp.
"I said stand." The Dark Lord spat. "Well, now that you've gone and ruined the evening with your stupid antics, I suppose there's nothing left for me here." His look of repulsion and contempt made her eyes face the floor. "I will be back tomorrow night." He stated, almost as if it was a warning. Hermione nodded, her tears mixing with the sweat.
"Severus!" Voldemort screeched, causing Nagini to bundle up into a tight coil in surprise. The door opened and the greasy wizard entered. He cast a puzzled look at the puddle of sick and the state of Hermione's health, but said nothing.
"Yes my Lord?" he asked.
"Get her out of here now, and get a house elf to clean up this mess." The Dark Lord said darkly, casting Hermione one last look of utter disgust.
"Of course my Lord." Snape responded, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Follow me Miss Granger."
She shook him off and walked as fast as she could towards the exit, not checking to see if Severus was even following her. His brisk footsteps were heard in the hallway and he grabbed her, whirling her around. "What happened?" he asked severely.
"Leave me alone!" she yelled in his face, twirling around and running through the dining room, ignoring the legions of Death Eaters watching her turn the corner and climb up the flight of steps to her room.
Luna heard the door slam from her room and looked up at Draco with questioning eyes. "What was that?" she asked timidly. The Malfoy shrugged.
"I do not know, nor do I care to find out." He replied.
The necklace that Draco had ripped off her neck was still lying in the middle of the room, Luna had wished her fiancé to move it but he had told her no, he was too tired to get up to grab it. She sighed in his arms as she felt his thumb rub a small knot in her back, between the shoulder blades.
She was dangerously close to falling asleep, and she moved away from his grasp, rolling to the other side of the bed. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching her. She turned her head and stared back. "What?" she asked.
He didn't reply at first, but kept studying her face, finally he lay back down, eyes trained on the ceiling. "Nothing." He murmured. This told Luna that it had definitely been something, but he wasn't ready to admit it yet.
Sometime then she had drifted off to sleep, welcoming the dreamless expanse of black waves that enveloped her peacefully. Her body hadn't truly rested in a long time and Luna felt she could've lay there forever, sleeping away her life until there was nothing left to worry about or fret over.
Then, she was awake. The room was black, no light shone outside and she wasn't even sure why her eyes had opened, there seemed to be nothing that had woken her. She tried to adjust her eyes but with no luck, it was as black as pitch and it wouldn't get any better.
She tried to shift herself and let out a surprised gasp as something tightened around her middle and then she realized what had woken her.
Draco.
He was nuzzled against her, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist. His breathing was even and she moved her arm to feel her hand was also firmly intertwined with his. Luna knew that she had not fallen asleep like that and he had done this when she had been unconscious.
The feel of him wasn't uncomfortable at all, it was rather nice, she thought to herself. His breath fell on her shoulder, telling her that he was closer to her face than she originally had pictured. She moved again and this time, Draco woke.
"..Luna?" he whispered into the darkness.
"I'm here Draco." Came the soft reply. He readjusted his arms so they weren't so tight around her and scooted up a bit so their heads were level.
"Did I wake you?" he asked the blackness.
"No." she lied. He sighed and pulled Luna closer, closing his eyes to go back to sleep. Their cheeks brushed momentarily and both pairs of eyes flew open again.
In the darkness, both were struggling to see one another's faces and Draco was frustrated with the results. Luna wasn't daring to breath, she was waiting for his reaction.
"Luna?" he asked again, even quieter than the first.
"Draco." She responded. He took a jagged inhale of air and leaned his head in to kiss her. "Draco, that's my nose." Luna said, a smile in her voice. The Malfoy felt his cheeks light up red as he hurriedly pulled away.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Go to sleep!" he snapped.
Luna fought the urge to giggle at his embarrassment. "My lips are here." She whispered into the dark, finding his mouth with hers.
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