Disclaimer: All canon characters, plots, dialogue, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
Her blood turned into liquid fire while every inch of her skin was being peeled off by the edge of a sharp blade. The pain was beyond horrific but no other word could come to Hermione's mind because her brain was going to explode. Fortunately for Hermione, the feeling only lasted seconds before a shout of pain escaped from Voldemort's mouth. Catching her breath, she silently thanked Merlin for the blood oath taking effect so quickly. She didn't know if her body could take any more of the white-hot fury that was meant for Severus. Her body still twitched slightly from the Unforgivable Curse, but it was nothing compared to the man beneath her. His sweat-soaked hair clung to his face as his eyes pierced through hers. His body spasmed every couple of seconds, but his gaze did not falter. She didn't have to be a Legilimens to read his mind. The question in his eyes asking her 'Why?' and 'Are you mad?' Hermione moved away from Severus's body using a stool next to them to pull herself up from the floor. She managed to reach the bench; leaning on it before focusing her attention on the wizard who caused this unnecessary violence. She watched as her lover leaned against the stone wall, his back to her, and the wizard on the ground. "Serves him right," she thought as his shoulders moved up and down from his heavy breathing. Righting himself to conceal the pain from their blood oath.
Hermione looked back to her confidant struggling to get his footing and without thought, she moved to help him. But before she could reach him, she felt the weight of Voldemort pressed against her back, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist, imprisoning her between himself and the bench. "Don't move." The heat from his breath trailed down her neck issuing her a sensation of uncertainty. She wanted to push away to help, but she obeyed, staying in place to prevent herself from adding fuel to the fire. Severus continued to struggle, no doubt the scene just another form of punishment by Voldemort to humiliate Severus. The sight of him made her chest ache and she blamed herself for unintentionally putting him in this situation yet again. Hermione raised her hand, brushing her fingertips across her jawline where his hands only touched moments ago. She knew something had grown stronger between her and Severus over the last months. They had a common goal to make sure Harry wins this war and survives. She wasn't blind to see that a friendship had blossomed. A friendship that made the bitter loneliness less dreadful. But his look and that touch made Hermione feel an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach.
"You will leave and not return until you are summoned," hissed Voldemort. "My mercy is wearing thin Severus and my warnings have been plenty."
"F-forgive me, my-," whispered Severus.
"Silence!" Voldemort shouted, the warning in tone was clear and menacing.
Severus bowed his head the best he could, then moved to pick himself off the floor. The sight of Severus made her chest ache. Her body shuddered, unsure if it was from the curse or her need to help. She moved to help the man on the floor, but the feeling of Voldemort's chest pressed against her back glued her to her spot. Turning her head over her shoulder, their eyes met in a heated exchange.
"Meeley," she murmured, and the familiar popping sound echoed in the room. Without daring to take her eyes off Voldemort, she hastily informed the house-elf to escort the Headmaster back to Hogwarts immediately. The whole exchange only took seconds before the two of them were left alone in the potions lab.
"Tell me, Hermione," he hissed in her ear. "What other lessons have our brooding professor been teaching you?" Hermione moved away from the wizard, infuriated by his actions and what he seemed to be implying. She walked out of the room and knew he wasn't far behind. Thoughts of their shared intimacy only hours ago filled her head. Was he not the one that she shared such consuming touches and words with. And was she not the one who was there. The one to comfort and bring ease when he was most vulnerable. Hermione entered their shared room and turned around to face Voldemort. He once again put them in this situation. Every time she felt some kind of progress was occurring between them, he easily pushed back chipping at the confidence she needed to save Harry, to save him. The sound of him pacing throughout the rooms snapped Hermione back to her reality, and she found herself sitting on the window ledge staring out the window.
"Drink this," said Voldemort, "It will help ease the tremors." Hermione looked at his outstretched hand recognizing the dark purple bottle of a Calming Potion. Her lack of motivation to accept his offer caused him to growl and forcefully remove the cork from the bottle. "Why must you be so bloody difficult! Here! Drink!" Hermione snatched the bottle from his hand, downing the potion with one swallow. The warmth from the liquid started in her stomach, then moved along to the other limbs of her body. She closed her eyes to enjoy the calming of her body and to silently thank magic for its instant relief. She only opened her eyes when she felt the weight of a blanket wrap around her shoulders. Voldemort stood in front of her examining her. There was no expression on his face, but his magic had a way of consuming her and she could sense the cocktail of indignation and concern swirling between them.
"Never do anything so foolish again," he said, sitting on the ledge when she pulled her legs up to wrap her arms around them. He wasn't looking at her now, his back was to the window making it easy to focus on his profile. The late afternoon sun was defused by the dense winter clouds, but a handful of light streaks made themselves known by casting him in a shower of light. The view was picturesque, reminding her of that December night when the moonlight highlighted his marble skin. It was always these quiet moments that reminded her that this was her life now and everything that happened and will happen would be the outcome of her choices. She thought herself mad that she could still look at him and love him after everything this monster has done. She wasn't delusional, she knew him to be evil, but whatever connection they shared was something she didn't want to live without.
"Why did you hurt him?" asked Hermione, keeping her tone low and non-confrontational, no doubt a wondrous side effect from the Calming Potion.
"Why did you get in the way?" He asked in return, while he turned to face her.
"He was being unjustly punished and it was the only way I could to stop you." She answered with a shrug.
"He deserved it."
"How so? He has done nothing but obeys your orders." Voldemort tilted his head to the side, shaking it back and forth as though informing her how wrong she was.
"I'm aware of all that that occurs here when I'm away, Hermione. The long walks outside, the lessons alone in the greenhouses, the shared dinners between you both. Nothing goes unnoticed."
"Yes, those things have occurred, but that doesn't mean infidelity on my part."
"Oh, my sweet little witch." Hermione scowled at the cringe-inducing pet names. "I do not doubt your motives. But the motives of a lonely heartbroken spy are a completely different scenario." Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. "Ah, so the camaraderie between you two hasn't reached into the deep dark secrets yet?"
"No, I'm afraid our camaraderie hasn't turned into pillow fighting sleepovers and hair braiding yet either." The laugher from her lover brought forth the giddy feeling in her. The sincerity of the sound was contagious and she couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto her face.
"Come here," he said, holding a hand out to her between their short distance from each other. Hermione shook her head.
"I'd rather stay right-" Hermione's body magically slid across the window ledge, her final destination in the arms of her lover pressed tightly against his chest. "Really? After what you did to me. You expect me to sit here and...cuddle?"
"On the contrary dearest, you did that to yourself. I haven't pointed my wand at you in anger in months."
"What an accomplishment?" She whispered under her breath.
"Now quiet." Hermione turned her head to meet his ruby gaze before rolling her eyes at the dark wizard. "I'm going to tell you a story about a sad little boy and his flower."
"Are you the sad little boy?" Voldemort laughed again and the sensation of his chest moving against her body was somewhat comforting.
"Don't be ridiculous, witch. Sadness is for the weak." The groan from Hermione's annoyance only made his arms swaddle her more tightly.
"Why are you crying?" Hermione was on her feet pacing back and forth. Ingesting the tale of Severus's life was a hard pill to swallow. From his childhood and horrible Muggle father to the death of his love. A one-sided love, but love all the same. That's why he wanted to save Harry, damn, that's why he disliked Harry!
"Do you not see the tragedy in his life? The tragedy that you caused?" She watched as Voldemort shrugged his shoulders. The nonchalant reaction was disgusting, but not at all a surprise. Lord Voldemort could never be at fault. She wanted to tell him that he did fail because though Severus' loyalty was no doubt to himself, Voldemort managed to create a man with a grudge and a promise to a dead woman. Harry's mum, Hermione. She knew this already but reminding herself that the wizard she loved was the murderer of her best friend's parents was a truth that couldn't be argued. "You killed them like they were nothing. A young couple only trying to protect their child."
"You say that as if you didn't know. You are perfectly aware of what happened that night, Hermione, and apparently my life before. Details my Death Eaters are not aware of. And yet you are here despite my history."
"I need to know," said Hermione. "What is the end goal here?" Voldemort straightened his posture.
"You're here, I've achieved that goal." Hermione shook her head.
"What is the end goal?" Voldemort's face stayed on hers. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but she had to continue. She was in the thick of it and in the end, if she suffocated, so be it. "I know this started as a tactic, charming the young girl who was lonely and tired. A way to get Harry Potter's Mudblood friend away from him. To use her in some way to get Harry in your clutches. But now what?" Voldemort turned away, she could see his red eyes reflected through the window glass. Hermione made her way to him, sitting back down on the window ledge. "Perhaps, even a little honesty." He moved his hand, catching a brown tendril of her hair.
"I listened to all three of your thoughts for weeks. I was angry at first that Potter got a hold of the locket, but that ended once I realized I had control. I could hone into that piece of my so-", he paused. Hermione swallowed wondering if he was going to disclose the locket as a Horcrux. Unfortunately, to her disappointment, he continued without retracting back.
"It was easy to manipulate those fools you call friends. The Weasley boy who desired you and grossly amounts of food. The only information I got from him was that he missed home, but I was well aware that you three were on the run. Surprisingly any discussion of plans or locations never came through. As for Potter, he held so much guilt for putting his friends in danger. His mind became a depressing pool of loneliness that even I didn't want to be around." His eyes met hers once again. "Then there was you. I started by making you feel like a failure. But that didn't work. You had a determination in you that was unexpected. Especially coming from a Mu-Muggleborn." Hermoine raised an eyebrow. "The first time you responded I thought it the perfect opportunity to finally get Potter. I tried to charm you, persuade you to slip. To divulge any information I could from you, but instead-"
"Instead?" she asked.
"I found myself wanting to listen to you. Listen to your theories of magic when you disagreed with the authors. Argue with me when you wanted to prove your point. I found it difficult to resist you. I would make excuses not to attend meetings or...see anyone." Hermione knew that 'see' was no doubt referring to Bellatrix. "And when it happened, when we crossed that line with each other. It felt revitalizing to hear the way you shuddered in your head and out loud whenever you reached a climax. Never shying away to let me know it was I who made you feel that way." Hermione could feel the heat of her blush rush down the length of her neck when she met his eyes. "When you arrived that night, I knew."
"What did you know?" She breathed in anticipation.
"I would never let you go."
Thanks for reading! I truly appreciate all the support for this story. Also, thank you Pamela RR for all your help.