A.N.: Alright, here's the next chapter for you. I don't have a good day today, as work starts eating up more and more of my time and nerves. And I hate that… I hope you're coping better than I am, my friends, where ever you are. My thoughts are with you.
Chapter 40: The pet
Hermione was by no means a Slytherin, not even remotely. She wore her heart on her sleeve; well she had done it before Severus had started teaching her Occlumency. Luckily her friend had been a good teacher and Hermione was an attentive student, no matter how uninteresting the topic. And Occlumency had always fascinated her.
She would need every ounce of self-control if she wanted to make it through the next weeks and still stay sane. Because even if Hermione was proud of being a Gryffindor, boldness and open resistance would not get her through this and away from this madman. It would not bring back her wand or save the lives of innocents. No matter how little she liked it, she would have to play along, at least a bit.
The way back to the house was a long one. Voldemort led her on his arm and she let him do it, even after they had passed the wards. Compared to everything else he could ask of her it was a small sacrifice and hopefully a good way to show him, how grateful she was that he spared those Auror's lives. Professor Umbridge was levitated right in front of them and Hermione could see her eyes looking at the two of them in panic. But she forced herself to show no reaction to it. It was for the woman's safety.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as soon as they had reached the house. Lord Voldemort hadn't even hesitated and led her up the stairs, where he led them in the opposite direction of the library.
The man smirked. "I thought we'd start with your lesson right away. Ma study is down the hallway, as you might know. We can modify it to house your lessons."
Hermione shuddered. What kind of lessons were that supposed to be? Considering that he needed Professor Umbridge for them, they surely wouldn't prepare her for her OWLs, she realized with a shudder.
Voldemorts study was huge. Apart from a gigantic desk that was made out of dark wood that was engraved with various runes in contained two more shelves with books and Hermione couldn't help but ask herself, why those were here and not in the library. Were those the books he used regularly? Or did they contain sensitive information? Possibly. It was definitely worth finding out.
Voldemort let Professor Umbridge's paralyzed body sink to the floor and then closed the door to the room with a silent spell. Then he stepped to Hermione, ignoring the woman of the floor for now. She could suddenly feel his eyes on her and she was sure, that he carefully watched her now.
"Now tell me, my Dear, who is that woman on the floor?" he asked, slowly circling her like the predator that he was. Hermione could feel her heart pick up speed. Was that some sort of test?
"This is Professor Umbridge, School Counsellor and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts," she replied truthfully, staring at the witch in front of her with a neutral expression.
Voldemort nodded. "And what do you think about her?" he added, his eyes fixing her with a dangerous glint in them.
Hermione thought carefully but no matter how much she tried, there weren't many positive things coming to her mind. "I…" She paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't think she's a very good teacher. Most of her lessons focussed on finding the Open Link, not about teaching teenagers something useful. I think she only told us the facts he thought would drive me to knock on her door and ask for help."
"You didn't though. Why?" her keeper continued asking.
"Because I didn't trust her," Hermione replied without hesitation. "I don't think she was interested in helping me, just in using me. And I don't want to be used – by anybody."
Another nod from him and then: "Why don't you trust her? Why did you think she would use you?"
Hermione furrowed her brows. Why was he asking her these things? She started gnawing on her bottom lip before she caught herself doing it and hastily stopped. Alright, she thought, fighting for control over her nervousness. She could do that. "She tortured students during detention," Hermione finally said, her eyes now focussing the woman on the floor. "She tortured my friends with a Blood Quill."
Suddenly the man was next to her, staring down at the woman on the floor with an amused smile on his lips. "Did she?" he asked, before fixing his eyes back on Hermione. "Do you think she would do it again?"
"Yes." The answer was an easy one. "I think she enjoys doing it, enjoys seeing people suffer or feel helpless."
The man next to her nodded. "Would you like to change that, my Dear?"
Hermione shuddered. His tone chilled her to the bone. "Yes," she said, hastily adding: "but not through killing her."
Voldemort smirked. "I don't expect you to. You're the one in control, the one making the decisions, Miss Granger. Do you like that? Do you like being in control?" he whispered into her ear, almost purring the words.
Her neck prickled in alarm while her stomach gave a violent lurch. She could almost see the hook he placed in front of her, in the hope to catch her. Careful now, she thought. "I dislike being not in control," she answered, focussing him.
"But you are. So tell me now, you don't want Professor Umbridge to continue torturing your fellow classmates, or any other persons for that matter, do you? How are you going to achieve that?" Hermione could feel him watching her, waiting for her reaction. What was she supposed to say, supposed to do?
"I…" she started, feeling her heart pick up speed even though her Occlumency walls were in place. But then she suddenly had an idea and she looked at the man next to her with her lips twitching into a smile. "How difficult is it for you to procure a Blood Quill?"
sssssssssss
Her words induced a shiver of delight run down his back. This woman was pure passion, even though she tried hiding that fact from him. Lord Voldemort could see the fire that she tried to hide behind her Occlumency walls, but there was no hiding from him. He could feel her potential, see what could become of her if she was just formed properly. And he was only too willing to form his prize, to shape her into his queen.
"A Blood Quill?" he asked, smiling amusedly. "Well, fortunately, I do have a little collection of old artefacts from various uses. I do love collecting things. Shall we see if we can find one for you, my Dear?"
His prize looked at the woman on the floor. "And Professor Umbridge? Will you have her waiting frozen at the floor?"
Lord Voldemort smiled. "It's your decision, Miss Granger. Remember? You're the one in control. I do have dungeons in the basement of this house if that is what you prefer."
She shook her head. "No, leave her here. In case we find a Blood Quill we won't have to move her back," his prize replied, looking at the plump woman on the floor with a dispassionate expression. "And it's not like she can get away."
"No, there's really no chance of that. Don't worry my dear."
She didn't even send him a dark look over the use of that term of endearment any longer and it pleased him to no end. Bit by bit that little witch got used to his possessiveness, if he was careful not to overdo it.
His collection was stored on the second floor, that was only reachable for those, be directly took with him to see it. It was one of the things he took pride in, that made him truly happy. Never before he had taken another person with him so see it, to even touch one of his possessions, but he would make an exception for his queen. It wasn't like he couldn't easily procure another Blood Quill if this one got broken. And now that he thought of it, he'd never seen one of those artefacts in use. He'd always preferred a more direct approach.
"This place is huge," his prize marvelled next to him as soon as they entered the large gallery he had built up here. She was right. The room ever outclassed his audience room in size and was divided into several rows that each held his most cherished possessions. "It looks like something between a museum and an archive." His price proclaimed with wide eyes and an open mouth and he could tell that she was deeply impressed. Good.
"I do have a fondness of collecting old or valuable items," he admitted with a fond smile and led her into the room. He knew exactly that there was a Blood Quill in his possession and where it was, but he decided to use the chance to show his queen some of his wealth.
"What are all those things?" she asked after they had passed the first display cases. Her voice was full of awe and for once she seemed to have forgotten her resentment to be in his presence.
He smiled. "This is a 400-year-old painting of King Arthur's castle. It is said to show the real place, not just some figment of imagination," he explained proudly and pointed to the wall in front of him. His price looked at it with wide eyes.
"It's beautiful," she gasped and he honoured the comment with a pleased little smile.
Lord Voldemort nodded soaking in her praise. Finally, he had found something that could help him to get to her, to maybe even make her admire him. It was a good start. He led her through the room with slow steps, explaining everything she wanted to know. He could feel his girl's thirst for knowledge that was so very much like his own one. She wasn't so different from him in his youth, even if she would never admit that to herself. But he would make her see it. The Blood Quill was just the first step.
ssssssssss
"What now, my Dear?" she heard Voldemort's voice behind her, as soon as they were back to his study. Professor Umbridge was still on the floor and Hermione was sure, that by now her limbs must have turned numb. But somehow she couldn't really feel sorry for her. Much worse would have happened to her former teacher if I hadn't been for her.
"Now we are going to give the Professor a taste of her own medicine," Hermione said coolly. "I imagine you don't want her sitting at your desk, so we'll need to transfigure a chair and a table for her. And then she'll write lines."
Voldemort nodded, his snake-like face showing amusement. He looked at her with glinting eyes, before reaching into his robes and offering Hermione her wand. "Good. Make it happen then. You're in control," he said. She stared at his hand in disbelief.
"I can have my wand back? Seriously?" she asked in disbelief.
He nodded. "I will not raise my wand against this witch. Dolores Umbridge is yours. And now show me your transfiguration skills. We'll need to determine how much work will be needed for you to prepare for your OWLs, after all."
With a smile, Hermione took her wand out of his cold hand. She could feel its welcoming buzz, as soon as the wood touched her fingers. Merlin, it felt good to finally have it back! And she wouldn't allow for it to be taken away from her anytime soon. If she had to behave like a Slytherin for it, so be it. Severus was a Slytherin who had lived with this man as his master for years. She would manage a few more weeks. "This sounds like you're aiming to be my Professor," she said, looking at him with her brow raised in challenge.
Voldemort smirked. "I can teach you magic that surpasses your wildest dreams, Miss Granger," he said, his voice almost seductive. Hermione shivered but willed herself to stay calm.
"Didn't Professor Snape tell you, what an insufferable Know-It-All and overachiever, I can be?" Hermione asked, smiling back sweetly at him.
"He didn't," her keeper admitted, his eyes glinting in amusement. "But I'd rather see for myself."
She shrugged. "But I'm not calling you Professor."
"I don't expect you to and I'm not asking you to call me Lord either," Voldemort replied, his red eyes glinting.
Hermione stared at her with furrowed brows. "Good. What do you want me to call you then?"
"Marvolo, call me Marvolo," he said and if Hermione was foolish enough, she would have seen something like tenderness in his eyes. It didn't matter. Hermione didn't want his affection, she just wanted to get out of here sane and alive.
"Marvolo it is," she replied, forcing herself to smile at him. Then she raised her wand and transfigured two quills from the desk into a chair and a table for Professor Umbridge to sit at. Then she took the Blood Quill from Voldemort and placed it on top of the table, together with a long sheet of parchment. She was just finished, when she saw the man lift the body bind on Professor Umbridge. The woman gasped on the floor, either from relief or anxiety, Hermione didn't know which it was. She took a steadying breath, before she positioned herself in front of the Professor, looking down at her with a serious expression.
"Well Professor," Hermione said motioning to the chair and the desk that she had positioned in front of the desk. "Looks like you're the one in detention today. I believe you know the procedure. You'll be writing lines today."
Professor Umbridge looked up at her with wide eyes, before nodding weakly. "What shall I be writing for you, Miss Granger?" she asked, her voice sounding even higher than usual.
"Blood Quills are not an appropriate punishment," Hermione said smiling sweetly at the woman. At that, she could see something flash in the woman's eyes and Hermione half expected that the woman would try to hex her. But she didn't. Instead, Professor Umbridge looked up at her with small beady eyes.
"How often shall I write that sentence for you?" she asked, before slowly walking to the table and sitting down. Hermione walked behind the desk, a book she had chosen from the shelf in the room in hand and sat down on the opulent chair that was placed behind it. If that action displeased Voldemort, he didn't comment. He just stared at her with a small smile, while his eyes glowed in anticipation. Hermione tried to ignore that look and fixed her eyes on the Professor instead.
"You know what I'm going to say," she told the stout woman, while casually opening the book. "You'll write as long as the message needs to sink in," Hermione replied while looking at the woman with a small smile. She didn't even have to fake it, because somehow punishing that woman for hurting her friends felt just right.
ssssssss
The day had turned out even better than Lord Voldemort had anticipated. When setting up the trap he had hoped to kill some Aurors, maybe even those annoying twins his price seemed to linked herself with. Instead, he came across Dolores Umbridge, a woman whose career he had interestedly followed and secretly considered recruiting for his ranks. But that was before she proved herself this useful in educating his future queen.
Seeing her sitting at his desk pleased him more than he would have imagined. Usually, he was very possessive and protective of his things. Not so with her. Seeing her sitting on his chair touched something in him that satisfied him on a very animalistic level. Would he one day have her on this desk, or on the chair? Probably.
His price lounged on his chair like a queen. She seemed to enjoy the book, a first edition of "Most potent poisons" from 1658. Her eyes were flying over the pages while her nimble fingers caressed the spine of the book. She even started sensually gnawing her lip when she got too absorbed by her reading material and it was secretly driving him mad with want. This girl had no idea what she was doing to him, not like Bella or those other Death Eaters that regularly threw themselves at his feet. No, his lioness did not want him, not right now and not like that, but watching her showed him, that hidden inside this petite woman was passion and sensuality and he wanted it directed at him.
Only occasionally his lioness' attention snapped back to the older witch in front of her to check on the progress of her detention. Was his price enjoying playing Professor? He was definitely enjoying seeing her like that.
"That's enough," her voice said a long while later. He too had sat down a while ago in the back of the room, pretending to read a book while he secretly watched the display in front of him. It was too good to miss and taught him more about his price than she could ever imagine. Looking into Harry Potter's head was one thing, but the boy admired her and saw her almost like a sister. To him there was no dark side to the girl, it wasn't even imaginable. But it was there, Lord Voldemort realized. He'd just have to nourish it.
Dolores Umbridge let the quill sink with a gasp of relief. Then she stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "Does that mean I can go now? Will you obliviate me and send me home then?" she asked, her voice high like a child's one.
He looked at her with an unsettling smile. "I don't think so, woman. I don't think you already learned your lesson, did you?"
Dolores Umbridge looked back at him like a frightened rabbit. He studied her carefully for a moment before his eyes settled on his lioness that was watching them both with an unreadable expression on her face. "What do you think my Dear?"
The girl furrowed her brows. "I don't think she already learned her lesson. Sometimes it takes several detentions for a person to learn, doesn't it Professor?" she asked sweetly, while her eyes showed nothing but hardness.
The plump woman only whimpered in reply. "Well, then I guess we'll find her a nice little cell in the dungeons," Lord Voldemort said offering his hand to his queen. But she looked at him with a smile before shaking her head.
"Not the dungeons," she said and he already started to feel disappointed, before he saw her smile. "I do have a better idea than that."
The Dark Lord looked at her with a questioning expression, but the little minx just smiled, before transfiguring their guest into a toad – a toad with a pink little bow on its head. He had never seen anything more hilarious. He stood there shocked silent for only a moment before he let out a bellow of laughter that was completely genuine. Of course he knew of the woman's unflattering nickname but he had never imagined his little prize actually turning her into a toad - with an appropriate accessory. His little witch was watching him in surprise as he quickly recovered.
"I take it that you approve?" she asked.
His inhuman red eyes fixed her with a look that would have made Bellatrix Lestrange murder her husband for.
"Completely."