Hermione was sitting in the library with Draco, giggling shamelessly at his expense. They were supposed to be studying, but instead, Hermione was showing him her best Pansy Parkinson impression, with her nose up in the air.
"I swear Draco, she has taken up your old post of Slytherin prat. Please tell me you don't have to marry her," Hermione pleaded through her giggles.
"Of course not! My father wouldn't do something like that to me. I get to marry Astoria Greengrass," he stated proudly, puffing up his chest like a proud bird. Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "What? She's quite fit!" Draco insisted.
"Wouldn't you prefer your marriage to be based on something other than attractiveness?" she questioned. "Wouldn't you prefer to choose who you marry yourself?"
Before Draco could respond, the door opened, and an irate Dark Lord entered. Looking at Draco, he demanded, "Leave us." Draco couldn't leave the room fast enough, feeling the dark energy rolling off Voldemort in waves. Once the blond was gone and the door shut behind him, Voldemort descended on Hermione. "I can't believe you spoke to Harry Potter! And here I thought you were smart!" he growled.
Hermione cringed. She knew this was coming. There was no way that Theo would keep the detail out when he explained the date to Severus and Voldemort. But she thought she had handled it well! "He approached me! What was I supposed to do, not answer his question?" Hermione asked, wondering how much better Voldemort would have handled it.
Before Voldemort could get a word in edgewise, Hermione gasped, holding her stomach. Something in his face changed, and Hermione realized that he actually looked concerned. "What is it? Is everything okay?" he asked, sounding out of his element.
Quickly, Hermione grabbed his large hand in hers, and placed it on the generous swell of her belly. She had a huge smile on her face.
Then he felt it. Snatching his hand back, as though he were burnt, he snapped at her. "What was that?" he demanded.
Grabbing his hand and putting it firmly back in place, she responded. "It's the baby! He's kicking. Oh isn't it lovely?" Hermione laughed, enjoying Voldemort's utter confusion. Hermione was looking warmly into his eyes. He could feel the happiness radiating towards him and it instantly calmed him and assuaged his anger. After long, the faint fluttering against their hands stopped. "That's the first time it's happened," Hermione told him quietly, removing her hand, glad that they were able to share that moment together.
He didn't want to admit it, but he felt empty when her hand left his hand, and subsequently, he had to remove his hand from her baby bump. Everything that they were discussing before seemed insignificant in comparison.
"You know, I was thinking more about what we should name him," Hermione began softly, tucking some hair behind her ear. "I am okay with Salazar for a middle name, but I don't want my child to be known as Sal." Hermione's nose was wrinkled in distaste. Voldemort found it quite endearing. "But I was thinking, maybe for a first name we could choose something more meaningful to both of us. Evan, perhaps?" Hermione suggested.
Voldemort did not respond, but did mentally turn the name over in his head. Evan Salazar Riddle. He didn't hate it. And even though the Evan she had known was little more than a figment of his memory, he couldn't deny that the man had had an integral part in where they had ended up together.
Hermione stood up, leaving him sitting down on the couch in the library. "Just think about it. And let me know if you think of anything else," she said. With that, she bent down and kissed him on the forehead in an unexpected show of tenderness. "Goodnight Voldemort."
Things had finally settled down for the six month pregnant Hermione. Recently, she had heard from Snape, that Voldemort had revealed the nature of her condition to the inner circle of Death Eaters. She had done well hiding it so far, and many people were surprised and outraged.
It apparently had occurred when Dolohov continued to make sexual comments about her in front of Voldemort. He finally snapped, performing the Cruciatus curse on the man until he broke down sobbing. After that, Voldemort announced that Hermione was the mother of his heir, and that they would do well not to degrade her in that manner.
Snape then told her that a few Death Eaters, including Wormtail, were particularly irritated by her blood status, but Voldemort told them she had more intelligence and magical talent than most of them combined.
Now, some of the Death Eaters seemed to regard her with a little more respect. In particular, Rabastan Lestrange seemed to look at her with a new light. His physical appearance had improved greatly since she had seen him right after he escaped from Azkaban. He was a naturally slender man, but he was skeletal after time in prison. By now he had gained weight back and had a delightfully lithe form for his tall frame.
He was considerably younger than his older brother, and she mused he was maybe only in his mid thirties. He had bright blue eyes that just begged for her to look into them and thick reddish hair that wasn't long and curled like Rodolphus. Plus he was incredibly knowledgeable about Arithmancy, Hermione's favorite and best subject.
They spent a lot more time together now while they worked through the calculations for the precise amounts of ingredients needed for Voldemort's restorative. Over this time, they had formed almost a tentative friendship, if she was honest. It was something that she would never have expected with a Death Eater.
Rabastan looked on, every now and again showing her tips or tricks to make the calculations faster. "You are quite good at Arithmancy, have you thought about a mastery?" Rabastan asked her once.
"Well, it's my favorite subject. I had thought about a mastery, but with the second war breaking out, education has kind of been...disrupted. Plus, with the baby, I don't know when I will have time to work on it," Hermione told him, thinking that it was nice to not have to hide her pregnancy from everyone any longer. "How did you become so good at Arithmancy?" she asked him, curious.
"Well, before I went to Azkaban, I was halfway through a mastery. The Dark Lord was supporting my studies," Rabastan explained.
"Ha, that's funny. I didn't know Voldemort encouraged academic thought. I thought he was more interested in everyone agreeing with him," she joked, though Hermione was truly surprised. She thought his whole purpose was to rid the world of muggles and muggleborns, not worry about Arithmancy.
"Actually, Voldemort would like to overhaul the whole educational system. He thinks that it isn't preparing wizards properly and that it is restricting learning. There should be no banned books or off limit magics to students," Rabastan explained. "You should ask him sometime. About the mastery. He might just surprise you."
Hermione had nodded, but she couldn't stop wondering if Rabastan was right. She and Voldemort had had numerous conversations about magical education and what was restricted learning. He was insistence that there was no 'good' or 'evil' magic, simply power and those who were too weak to seek it. She'd been willing to admit that she was frustrated with the Restricted Section of the library, but she wasn't certain if she totally agreed with his way of thinking.
While most of the Death Eaters had gotten the message not to bother her, it seemed that Dolohov just couldn't figure it out, even after being tortured. Voldemort began sitting in on lessons with him or if he could not be there, Nagini would be conveniently wrapped around her shoulders, her cold, beady eyes trained on Dolohov's every move. But after a while, it seemed that Voldemort trusted Dolohov not to do anything foolish, and stopped monitoring them.
Unfortunately, this did nothing for Hermione's current issue or temptation that she found in the Russian. It was no secret that Antonin was a good looking man, with his glittering dark eyes and dark hair. And, he always seemed to know just how to wind her up.
Sometimes, he would correct her wand positioning while going through a transfiguration, and he would be stare at her with a look that made her toes curl. Her hormones hadn't settled down at all, and if anything they had gotten worse. Although she had gotten over the embarrassment and just started dealing with it herself, she missed the intimacy of being with a man. So she craved the lessons with Anontin and the light touches and easy smiles he gave her.
"You are improving, mischka," Antonin praised her one afternoon, stepping closer to her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off of his body.
Hermione had always responded well to being recognized for her accomplishments, but there was something in the way that he said it that sent a heat coiling in her belly. She felt like she was boiling over.
And that was all it took. As if in slow motion, Hermione and Antonin slowly drifted closer together, until their lips were pressed tightly against each other. The kiss seemed almost ferocious to Hermione, as she nibbled on his lower lip, then suckling it into her lips to soothe it with her tongue.
One of his large, slender hands was entwined with her luscious hair, and the other was resting on her thigh, slowly making its way up higher and higher up her leg. Hermione sighed - finally she was getting a release from some of her tension.
"Master, are you still in denial about having some affections about the girl?" Nagini asked, slyly, knowing that what she had seen was sure to send the Dark Wizard into a fit.
"Why, Nagini, whatever are you insinuating?" Voldemort hissed back at his familiar, annoyed that she knew so much about him - that she acted as if she understood his motivations and feelings.
"Well, do you really not care if the mother of your child is with another man?" Nagini's tone was no longer teasing or innocent. Voldemort stood abruptly, his hand tightening around his wand without thinking.
"Just spit it out Nagini or I will have you defanged!" he growled back, wondering when the snake had grown so insolent.
"Hermione and Antonin are currently very engaged in the library."
Hermione barely had time to react when Anontin was rudely ripped away from her. She was surprised to see that Voldemort had picked him up by the back of his shirt. Hermione was completely shocked by the anger that was clear as day on his face. She had realized that he was magically powerful, but seeing him lift Antonin so easily was surprisingly attractive. The thought that he was resorting to the muggle way briefly crossed her mind.
As soon as the first crucio left Voldemort's lips, though, Hermione instantly spring into action. "Voldemort, what are you doing? Stop it! You're hurting him!" Hermione screamed, trying to grab his arm, break his focus, anything to stop Antonin's cries of anguish.
Finally, when the younger man seemed as though he could stand it no more, Voldemort ended the spell, commanding him to leave the room. Voldemort turned to stare down at Hermione, the mother of his child. His eyes were a blazing red, filled with rage and... desire.
"What was the meaning of that?" Hermione demanded, hands on her hips. "You can't just come in here and, and torture someone in front of me without even an explanation!"
Voldemort smirked, thinking that in that pose, she looked every bit the know-it-all swot Snape described her as. She seemed furious at him, and all the tenderness of their last time in the library was gone. "Dolohov knows better than to touch what isn't his."
Hermione laughed bitterly at the machismo of the statement. "Oh? And I am yours now, am I? The last I heard you didn't care if I fucked each and every one of your Death Eaters." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, defensively. "You don't just get to be jealous when it suits you, Voldemort!"
"Yes, you will always be mine," he answered, finally putting to words what he'd felt all along. Voldemort closed the gap between them in one step, putting his hands on her face, pulling her mouth towards his. It was a searing kiss that totally removed the memory of Antonin from her memory and made her tingle from her head to her toes. She had never seen Voldemort this passionate before.
And she loved it.
Keeping their lips locked, Voldemort guided her to the loveseat, and sat down, nearly pulling her into his lap. Voldemort nibbled on her full lower lip before pushing his tongue past her lips, to tangle sensuously with her own tongue. Hermione couldn't help but moan and melt against him, despite the fact that he had just tortured her teacher.
His cold hand was slipping up under her v-neck sweater, over the her pregnant stomach and up to cup her breasts which had grown in the past months. Hermione sighed when Voldemort's lips left her own and trailed down her neck to her decolletage revealed by her sweater. She couldn't help herself, and his given name slipped out between her lips. "Oh, Tom," she moaned.
She immediately knew it was a mistake, as she heard him groan and felt him stiffen, removing his hand from her sweater and his lips from her neck.
Looking at her, he didn't look particularly ruffled. "How long will it take you to finish the arithmancy of the potion?" he asked, regaining his composure.
Hermione sighed in disappointment. "Not long, an hour at most," she answered.
"Good. Bring it to me when you finish to look over it. You won't be having any more transfiguration lessons, either," he answered Voldemort stood, grateful for his baggy robes which hid his obvious reaction to Hermione's body. "Oh, and start packing. We will be heading to India tomorrow to gather some necessary ingredients."
Draco was sitting in Hermione's room after dinner, and had just finished reading the article allowed. "It does seem amazing to this reporter that Hermione Granger has once again been able to sink her claws into a wealthy and famous young man, this time for keeps. As my readers know, she has been linked to the Bulgarian beefcake, Viktor Krum, and the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter in the past. No word from the likely unhappy grandparents, who declined to comment. Seriously, where does she get this tosh?" Draco was truly perplexed.
"Yes, well for whatever reason she has it out for me. I am more worried that everyone knows that I am pregnant now. Someone must have seen me in Ireland when I was with Voldemort. Maybe I should tell him that she is an unregistered animagus?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.
"Why Granger, you are becoming so deliciously Slytherin," Draco said smirking, watching her pack the muggle way, first setting out outfits and then placing them in her trunk, along with numerous books and other items she might need. "Why do you need to go to India again?"
"To collect potions ingredients. I would bet my money that we are going to get the venom from the Daboia snake," Hermione responded factually. She had spent a lot of time reviewing what was needed for the restorative potion, as she wanted to make sure there were no surprises.
"You are quite right mistress. The Daboia should be quite easy to find in India," Nagini hissed, catching the teenagers off guard. Nagini had slithered into her room from the hole in the wall.
"Have you ever met a Daboia before, Nagini? Do you think it will be difficult to get the venom?" Hermione asked. The snake had curled up her leg, coming to rest around her shoulders.
"They are known to be quite vicious, but I think that with your power of speaking to snakes it should be quite easy. It is good that you are going with. The Dark Lord can be quite demanding." Nagini answered, sounding a bit amused.
"Ugh, it's bad enough hearing the Dark Lord talk to snakes, but to hear you do it too, Granger, is just too creepy. Doesn't it bother you to have her curled up against you like that?" Draco asked, quite curious, his face a bit stricken when Nagini turned her beady eyes on him.
"Not really. It was difficult to get used to at first, but I know that Nagini wouldn't hurt me," Hermione responded, reaching up to pet the large snake, who flicked her tongue out to taste her.
"Granger, why is it that you seem to blush every time I mention the Dark Lord? See you did it again! Don't even try to deny it!" he teased.
Draco and Hermione's relationship had progressed to old friends, and Hermione wondered how different school would have been if she could have been friends with him from the beginning. She wondered if she ever would have been friends with Harry and Ron.
"Well. Today in the library, he tortured Antonin for kissing me, and then told me I was his and would always be his, which is truthfully something I have been longing to hear. But it just confuses me because when I got here, he told me he didn't care who I was involved with," Hermione mentioned, knowing that she could trust Draco. Although he was frequently uncomfortable thinking about the Dark Lord in a romantic capacity, he had been a good listener so far.
"It sounds like he is jealous," Draco said, quite obviously. "Now, let's talk about this great name I have come up with for your baby - it's five letters, it begins with a D, and it's one of your closest friends' names."
Hermione laughed at his suggestion, throwing a pair of rolled up knee socks in his face.