Fridays were Hogwarts Days unless Snape needed Antonin for a meeting or whatnot; apparently staff took turns on library duty until a librarian could be found, while Hermione sorted, catalogued, and fixed everything the one day she was allowed.

Their other days continued as they did before for the most part. They both had "work" to go over through the week, but it was rather light and the Death Eater often decided they would work side-by-side (or, rather, with Hermione on his lap. That's where she was now."

"How many subcategories for each section do you have, love?" His lips moved against the shell of her ear and sent fissions down her flesh.

"It highly depends on the category. But I am just looking this over to reference the order of the subjects at the moment. The Restricted Section taked priority until it's sorted." Her words were distant but she was far more present than it let on.

"Mmm." His warmth hummed through her. "Yes, that's an excellent idea. And Dark Arts from there; focus on the areas the Dark Lord prefers. He'll like that."

"Will he?" Her mind flashed so reflections nearly blinded her. "Do you think he might be inclined to a small, miniscule, really, favor?"

Leaden hands closed around her slight waist to anchor each crevice of her body to his. "A favor, kitten? One must tread carefully with favors from the Dark Lord. What is this favor?"

She peered shyly over her shoulder at the striking man. "I'd like to sit my N.E.W.T.s."

Thick brows shot up at that. "I know you are a studious, academically inclined girl, but what use would that be for anyone now?"

"It's just- I've looked forward to them for years, studying and prepping so I could achieve my full potential. Future employers will look to them for a first indication-"

"Employers?" Antonin's features had returned to stone. "You have no need to work, Hermione. I will always provide whatever our family needs."

Her stomach knotted and swirled. "But I like work."

He stroked possessively at her body, fingers bruisingly deep. "You may read and write whatever you want, send in papers and dither in intellectual pursuits to your heart's content as long as it doesn't disrupt our life. Why would you care about examinations?"

None of his words did anything to placate the waves disturbing the careful damming of her mind, but Hermione had nearly perfected her mask of compliance. "As I said, I have been preparing for these tests for years; they are the culmination of my education; an education I did not get to complete." Her eyes widened to warm chestnuts gleaming with sorrow. "It would, I don't know, perhaps help me move forward?"

"Oh, my sweet, soft kitten." Antonin kissed her hair and stroked her with all the tenderness of a dragon amidst his gold. He tipped her chin and planted another kiss on petal soft lips. "Perhaps we can speak to the Dark Lord about it, but it would be a magnanimous boon indeed. You will need to prove you are worthy of it."

Hermione swallowed, watching as Antonin followed the movement of her throat. "I know."

"Do you?" He considered her. "You are already granted so much, my sweet girl. From the Dark Lord. From me."

"I know," she repeated, laying one wavering hand against his cheek. Antonin rubbed against it with the contentment of a great cat, his stubble sandpaper against her palm.

"Though I find it difficult to deny you when you are so well-behaved." His voice lowered to a rumble through his chest, hot and purring against her.

Her eyes softened and she leant up to graze her lips over his. "I know." She took his bottom lip between her own and swiped at the top, teeth skimming below, and he groaned. One tight fist wove through her hair to hold her in place as Antonin took over the kiss. Within their first breath he turned her to straddle him, burning fingers tugging at her neckline until her breasts were revealed, pert over the top of her dress and nipples blushing and tightening at the cool air of the study.

"Perfect girl," he murmured, thumbs brushing her peaks before grounding into her hips to thrust up against her. She could feel his steel desire and whimpered. "Will you ride me?" He trailed to the skirt ridden high on her thighs and upward to the line of lace trimming. Her barely distinguishable nod sent a pulse through his member and she tried to suppress her reaction. "Good girl." Her knickers disappeared and she was now pressed against the stiff material of his trousers.

Hermione leant back to unweave his belt from his trousers, biting her lips as she peered up at Antonin through her lashes, he who laid at his leisure watching her with heavy eyes. A dry hiss burst through his teeth as the girl's slim hand skirted into the shadows of his pants and pulled out his length, steel under velvet in her palm.

"So good for me. Go on." At his prompting, Hermione rose once more, hips canting to place her entrance over him. Before she could question herself, she began the process of sinking onto him, working herself open by easing up and down.

The man himself kept hands back from her even as his head breached her warmth. It wasn't until she worked herself so the head met her end that he let out a low groan.

Hermione's eyes, focused then on the black of his clothed chest, snapped up to his features to study the intent pleasure. They were dark and dripping with hunger for her, lust casting a deep shadow over his expression. A thrill of lilting power stroked her insides, curious in the pleasure it wrought. Her walls thrummed and Antonin thrust up against her to encourage her movement, but Hermione was intrigued by the change in dynamic and instead felt the corner of her lips tugging upward, eyes narrowing to heated slits.

Wondering what power she might wring from him, Hermione cupped her breasts, thumbs soothing her peaked nipples. Dolohov licked his lips and her smirk sharpened before pinching her peaks, twisting in the way he often did as they skirted the line between pleasure and pain. Her hips rolled in long, sensual motions. When Antonin moved to join his hands with her, Hermione shook her head playfully and laid one on his chest.

The man chuckled and raised a brow, but allowed her to keep her momentum, arms crossing behind his head to watch.

The hand on his chest tickled toward her core to strum her clit. It combined with the deliciousness of her ephemeral rule to create a warmth that heated her lust. She increased the pace of her rolling hips, stirring the fire until she was biting her lip, but still she could not reach the height. Not even when she was slamming herself against the man beneath her. A soft whimper issued forth and then Antonin broke. His fingers engulfed the span of her hips and he took over the rhythm of their sex, crushing her against him and wrecking her cervix with the head of his cock.

It was when he shifted them to have her bouncing on his lap, body curved into hers and teeth gnashing at her breasts that Hermione crested. Her walls fluttered like an uncertain vice around his hardness and her nails clawed at his shoulders as she cried out her pleasure. Antonin was soon behind her. He wrapped his large arms around her and pulled her to him as his cock spluttered inside her, holding her for long moments even after.

"So good for me, my beloved." Antonin pulled back and smoothed her sweaty curls. "I see you are turning to my hand so beautifully. Moulded for me alone." He kissed her forehead, then wormed a hand to press over her womb, murmuring and stroking over the skin. "Perhaps this will be the seed that takes, hm? I admit I'd hoped you would fall pregnant sooner. I am impatient for a family with you. But such things often take time unless we take matters into our own hands."

"Please don't." Hermione tried to withhold the horror from her voice, but his cutting smile told her she failed.

"Don't you want children?"

Uncertainty lapped at the edges of her mind; Hermione had always assumed she'd have a family some day, but with him she found that desire shriveled, her heading bowing to break contact with his eyes.

Steel gripped her chin and forced it back upward. "I see. Perhaps I should remind you who rules in this house." His length still inside her pulsed, threatening to harden once more.

"No," she insisted. "No, please. I'm not fighting you. I'm only... I'm still young. And this is still new. Please."

Antonin's eyes were as metallic as his grip. "Is five months so little to you, my dearest? I suppose one of your age does not know how precious and precarious life is. I'd thought war would temper that." Fingertips stroked her jaw. He rolled over her on the couch, hips jutting against her. "I will need to teach you more. But you are an apt student; I doubt it will take much longer."

He was already hard inside of her again, his length slickened by her previous arousal and his spend. He filled every corner of her as he slammed into her, lowered his lips to her own, devouring her mouth and conquering it with his tongue. Merlin, Circe, and Fates abounding, it felt like a tempting Hell as she fell unwillingly into pleasure.

A/N Follow on the tweeter for more info on my happenings; link in carrd, carrd in profile. I also want to thank you all for reading along. The comments are always a joy to read.

When I see that my use of language is jarring, it kind of thrills me. You see, I have PTSD and sometimes reality is jarring for me. I love startling people into different headspaces. I like making them think twice about the metaphors we use. I also love playing with language. So thank you. Thank you and thank you again.