DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!!

Chapter 8

Voldemort lay her down on the bed, her chocolate curls scattered across the black silk pillows. He pulled the covers over her cold, slightly shaking body. He sat next to her, on the edge of the bed, just looking at her face, wet with tears and red from lack of oxygen.

There was a knock on the door. He got up and walked over to the door. He opened it and saw Lucius Malfoy there.

"Milord-" he started but drifted off as he saw Hermione in the bed. He had been having strange feelings for the Muggleborn for a while now, ever since he had seen her in the Department of Mysteries. She had shown courage, bravery and slight darkness. That turned him on beyond belief.

"Lucius?" Voldemort asked, noting Lucius' vacant stare into the room. He followed his servant's stare and glared at Lucius. "Don't get any ideas. She's mine."

"Of course, milord."

"What is it?" He asked.

"The report from the latest raid."

"Deaths?"

"4."

"Injuries?"

"9."

Voldemort sighed, stepped back into the room, sat next to Hermione and started toying with her fringe. Lucius just stood outside the room, uncertain of what to do now.

"Well, come in, Lucius." Voldemort snapped impatiently.

"I apologise, milord." Lucius stepped into the room and walked near the bed. "She is so beautiful." He thought.

"Yes, she is." Voldemort said aloud, obviously reading Lucius' mind. "How long have you felt this way?" he asked, not looking at him, but still at Hermione.

"Milord, I-"

"How long?!" Voldemort bellowed.

"Since I saw her in the Department of Mysteries."

"That's just under 2 years, correct?"

"Yes, milord."

"You will do whatever you need to do to restrain these feelings. Am I understood?"

"Perfectly, milord."

"Good. I can not have you ruining this prophecy."

"Of course, milord."

"Good. Leave us." He said simply. Lucius bowed deeply and left. He took out his wand, pointed it at Hermione and said, "Renervate."

Hermione's eyes flickered open and she slowly sat up.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"Good evening, my dear." Voldemort replied almost pleasantly. "How are you feeling?"

"Um . . . . okay(?)"

"Good to hear." He said and pulled her into his lap. She was confused but didn't fight him. "What do you remember?"

"Uh . . . . I woke up, you gave me the clothes to get dressed and Draco took me to the dungeons."

"And?"

"And you showed me . . . . Harry. Oh, no!" Tears started to form in her eyes. "Oh, God, no!" she screamed. "Harry!"

"It's alright, my dear." Voldemort took her in his arms but she pulled away and scooched away on the bed and started screaming at him.

"Alright? How the hell can it be alright?" she bellowed. "You killed him!" this suddenly dawned on her. "Oh, my God. He's gone." Her voice dropped to a quiet whisper. "He's gone." Her voice started breaking as her throat dried from shouting. "He's really gone."

"Yes, he is, my dear. I can't say I'm sorry but I do feel for you."

Hermione looked him right in the eye. "How can you say that? He is dead because of you! You killed him!"

"Yes, I did. And I have no repercussions about my decision. He was a pebble in my shoe and I am glad that he is gone."

Hermione just glared at him.

"How can you be so heartless?" she asked.

"My dear, I've killed hundreds of people, why should one boy affect me?"

Hermione couldn't answer. Just the thought of Harry made her weep and she was starting to again. Inwards, Voldemort was slightly disgusted by her weakness but he had to stick to the prophecy. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. She actually cried in his arms for a few minutes before he took her chin in his hand and pulled her head up.

She saw lust in his eyes and it terrified her. Yet she couldn't look away. Voldemort leant in and placed his lips on her. She was shocked but couldn't bring herself to pull away. The kiss made her feel somewhat safe. Ad it washed all her troubles away. Harry didn't matter. The Order didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the kiss.

Almost as if - I would say 'under a spell' but that's very likely so I'll say - she wanted to, she kissed him back. The kiss lasted a few moments before Voldemort laid her back and climbed over her.

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Hermione and Voldemort finished about an hour later. It had been nothing to her. Just comfort sex. The blankets were covering them barely. Voldemort lay on his back, arms by his side, a leg bent, the blanket covering from his waist and below. Hermione was lying next to him, no body parts touching whatsoever. The blankets covered her torso, waist and a bit of her legs, which were clamped together, bent slightly. One hand was resting on her chest, almost clutching the blanket to her, and the other one was lying limply on her stomach.

Her eyes popped open and she sprang up in bed, keeping the blankets over her. Voldemort stirred beside her. She looked at him and gasped. He leant up on his elbows.

"Oh, god." She whimpered, realising what she had done with the monster next to her.

"What is it, my dear?"

"Oh, my God. I did. Did I?" she asked herself, looking away from Voldemort.

"If you are referring to our late night activities from last night, then the answer would be, yes, you did." He smiled smugly.

"Oh, my god."

(a/n: sorry for the shit ending but I couldn't think of anything else.)