Hermione picked at the scrambled eggs absent mindedly. It was the first time in three months she had eaten breakfast in the castle; she twirled her fork around, in truth she wasn't hungry. She grabbed the chalice of pumpkin juice and sipped to disguise a frustrated sigh.
She longed for Malfoy Manor and the body of its host pressed firmly against hers. The young mother reminisced on how the contures of their bodies aligned perfectly and she became flushed.
She placed her cup back on the table and turned her attention to her daughter banishing such notions. She was too afraid to continue with her line of thought and worried what her uncensored memories might reveal in her husband's presence.
The Dark Lord had sat quietly his gaze moving between his child and Hermione. He couldn't believe nor would admit that his heart had ached in her absence.
He gestured for the elf standing over in the corner.
"Michela?" he turned toward his daughter.
"Yes, Daddy?"
"Would you like to go play?" she smiled nodding vigorously. Voldemort smiled.
"Tinny, take her to the playroom."
The small elf bowed low his ears brushing the floor, "yessss, my Lord."
The little girl hopped down from her chair and grabbed the elf's hand both of them skipping from the room.
He turned his attention to Hermione; he watched her as she pushed food around on her plate before scooping up a fork full of eggs.
"I can have them bring you something else if you like."
Hermione paused startled, she laid down the slim piece of metal, "no, this is fine." She watched him as he continued to stare at her.
"I…" he began before he stopped.
"Leave us." The elves disappeared with faint pops.
He stood and walked to the large window overlooking the lake and stared out the window for a moment before turning to her his hand outstretched, "come to me Hermione."
She rose slowly from the table and walked to him taking his hand. Voldemort pulled her close placing a light kiss on her forehead.
"I have come to realize how much you mean to me and I never want to be without you again. This Resistance is growing, they are gaining information that only very few are privy to they have tried to attack the very thing I care about most."
"I want you to know that I care for you, I love you Hermione." She looked up into his eyes and saw that he was sincere.
She sighed gently pulling away from his grasp, "you have a funny way of showing it."
"What do you mean?"
"Narcissa Malfoy." She stated folding her arms, she couldn't help the jealousy that swelled in her chest. Hermione faced the window not wanting to meet his eyes she wondered why she cared.
He pulled her to him, "she's merely a distraction something to pass the time."
"Really?"
"Yes, really." He wrapped his arms around her.
"I thought you had come to your senses and wanted to get rid of me, replace me with a woman of proper breeding."
He lightly chuckled, "no, never."
He stopped and looked down into her eyes serious once again, "no one will come between us. I have come to understand what is important," he kneeled placing his hands on her belly, "I will not allow anything, not the Resistance, no one to take you or my children away from me." He placed a kiss on her belly before turning his head and pressing his cheek against her round flesh.
Tears sprang to her eyes, as she was once again overcome with emotional turmoil. Thoughts toward making a life work with the man kneeling before her crossed her mind, and so did her desire to be with Lucius. Her thoughts battled one another for dominance and she lightly shook her head to clear her thoughts.
He looked up at her and stood never removing his arms from around her.
"Are you alright?"
She sighed heavily, "no."
"What do you need my love?"
She gently pulled from his embrace.
"It's…" she trailed off picking at her nails and feeling a bit ashamed that she was allowing jealousy over a man she didn't love to upset her. Or at least she believed she didn't love him.
"It sounds silly of me to make such a demand," she looked over at him shyly before returning her gaze back to the lake.
"No, make your demands and I will honor them." He was sincere.
"Narcissa Malfoy, I want it to end. I want her gone." She looked at him and his face was blank, and he remained silent for a moment. Briefly, she thought she had made a mistake in even asking when he didn't immediately respond.
"Consider it over; you will not have to worry about her anymore, not that you ever needed to." Hermione smiled and her face lit up, this caused an odd yet pleasurable sensation to surge through him and he wanted to cause her to smile more often.
"I have something else that I hope will make you smile."
He grabbed her hand leading her from the room and toward the staircase. Unlike in her youth, they didn't move the walls were bare and Hermione kept her eyes on her feet, focusing on lifting them to the next step.
It had always pained her to see the castle striped and yet it was a blessing not to be reminded of the past. With the tokens gone she could forget to remember.
They climbed them together his hand on her side firmly, possessively. Maids and guards instinctively made way and bowed as their Master and Mistress passed.
Blaise watched from the shadowy doorway as the two turned down the corridor. Despite how he felt about the former brains and golden girl of Gryffindor, he hated to kill the mudblood. He had always been against the wasting of wizarding blood no matter the origin of the bloodline. Their society's numbers had been dwindling enough without the aid of a war, but family loyalty would always outweigh any humanitarian ideas one held. Therefore, like many Slytherins in his position he took up arms and fought on behalf of a mad man.
It was a decision he wished he could take back whole heartedly. He vowed to make everything right and since his induction into the Resistance he strove to prove his loyalty and went above and beyond to complete his tasks flawlessly.
Killing Hermione would be the necessary boost for the Resistance and the much-needed wound to the Dark Lord if they had any hopes of being triumphant. He just needed a way to her. He looked around to make sure no one saw him as he left the shadows and walked down the corridor in the opposite direction. He needed to get back to his post on the west side of the castle.
Voldemort stopped them outside the door to their bedchamber.
"Close your eyes." She hesitated before doing as instructed. She felt a light tap of a wand tip against her forehead and then a covering fitted over her eyes tying itself snuggly behind her head.
She gasped. "Hermione, I won't ask if you trust me, but…" he hesitated, "I want you to trust me." He pulled her close whispering in her ear, "I don't expect you to understand what I had to do in the past, but I want us to begin anew."
She didn't know how to respond and was very thankful that her eyes were covered, the blindfold absorbed the tears that spilled over her lids barring them from running down her cheeks.
The young woman racked her brain for a response and had settled on one as she parted her lips to speak. The words died in her throat when he placed his forefinger over her lips, "there's no need to say anything."
He opened the door leading her into the room; he wandlessly closed the door and led her further into the suite bringing her to stand in front of the bed.
He tapped his wand to the blind fold and it vanished, "I hope you like your gifts."
Hermione opened her eyes to find the bed covered in robes made of crimson colored silk and one dark green velvet robe that had a necklace with large stones lying at the neck of the robe. She was so fixated on the large rubies that overpowered the dress she didn't notice the other boxes lined up next to the bed on the floor.
She turned to him searching his face, "what is all of this for?" She turned back looking at the bed and then over at the Hermes, Versace, and Louis Vuitton boxes.
She gasped bringing her hands to cover her mouth, "those are Muggle designers," she moved around the bed and started going through the boxes pulling out shoes, scarves, and more jewelry.
He smiled, "well, not all of them are Muggles."
She whipped around astonished, "really?"
"Yes, really."
Hermione turned her attention back to the boxes. After going through her gifts, she stood and looked over at Voldemort. He had watched her from the large wingback chair.
"Thank you so much, but what's the occasion?" she approached and he reached out and pulled her into his lap.
"The baby."
She snorted, "don't tell me you are going all Henry VIII on me and lavishing me with gifts because I am pregnant with a boy?" she stood shaking her head, "I will not allow you to treat Michela any different than…" at the moment she realized neither one of them had talked about naming their son, "this baby." She faced him tapping her foot with her arms folded.
He chuckled.
"You know I don't see what's funny."
"No, I wouldn't dream of treating my children different based on their sex. This, these gifts are my way of atoning for not spoiling you when you had Michela. So, in addition to the gifts I want to have a party. When a child is due to be born celebrations are in order."
She unfolded her arms and sat back in his lap, "don't you think it's a little late for that, he is due in 3 weeks." She looked down at her belly.
"Better late than never."
They laughed before stopping and regarding one another. He caressed the side of her face, he couldn't explain it, he had bedded many women before but with her it had been different. It was always so different.
She didn't know what it was maybe it was this new side of him. Or maybe it was the fact she had a second child in her womb, but her insides flipped, and she parted her lips as she leaned into his caress. The heat between her legs was building and for the first time she wanted him inside her.
He saw the fire of desire in her eyes he was captured, entrapped in this witch's snares unsure of how or if he wanted to get out. Realization dawned on him, no one compared, not the whores in the district, nor Bellatrix, not even Narcissa in all of her refinement held a candle to the woman in his arms.
He watched; his breathing stopped as he waited; she brought her small hand up to his chest as she brushed her thumb across his lips with the other. He let out a soft moan as her plump red mouth made contact with his. The sound had been so foreign to him that if he hadn't known better, he would have thought someone else was there with them.
She pulled away from the kiss leaving him breathless, "Tom, make love to me." He studied her for a moment, usually he would recoil and lash out at the mention of his birth name but on her lips the words dripped with honey and he rose from the chair with her in his arms.
He whispered an incantation and the clothing and jewelry that littered the bed flew all around them putting themselves in their proper places, Hermione watched in awe. She had spent so much time being angry and afraid that she never took time to acknowledge his mastery of wandless magic or his intellect.
He laid her down gently and stood observing her.
The Dark Lord wanted to make sure she hadn't changed her mind; the fire in her eyes had deepened and he swallowed hard. He had to look away afraid he would get consumed in them and let his defenses down revealing all.
He entered her gently and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from coming; the way she arched into him he nearly lost it. The firmness of her belly caused his insides to do summersaults and he buried his face in her neck and Voldemort began slowly. He fought against the urge to increase his pace.
Tears clouded Hermione's vision as she felt his hot breath on her neck.
She saw flashes of Ron and she clamped her eye lids shut in an attempt to make his image go away as she further gave herself to this man his killer. There was no place for the ghosts of the past here in this very moment. It was only him and her. The Dark Lord's voice echoed from earlier no one will come between us. She let those words rattle around in her mind as she neared her climax. She clung to him tighter using his hot flesh to anchor her to reality. She banished the ghosts, the past, and she gave in screaming out his name in pleasure.
The Dark Lord denied himself release at the sound of his name falling off her lips like honey from a comb. He buried his head in her golden locks as he whispered her name urging on her release.
He continued at his slow pace and only raised himself on his elbows to look at her when her trembling subsided. Man and wife locked eyes as something electirc flowed between them and the words slipped before he could stop them.
"I love you, Hermione."
Tears rolled down the bottom of her temples and she pulled him to her the lips crashing against one another; Voldemort had incentive to pick up the pace the two of them moaning into each other's mouth as their mutual climax came crashing into them.
Once the love making ceased, they both were spent and he held her as Hermione laid against his chest listening to the thumping of his heart.
"Tom?"
"Yes, my love."
She raised on her elbow to look him in the eyes, "there are people, you know the Resistance that want to kill me, us." She looked down at her belly and Voldemort understood her meaning. She feared for her life and that of their unborn son.
He firmly gripped her chin.
"I promise Hermione, I won't let any harm come to you."
Hermione looked deep into her husband's eyes and she believed him. She laid back in his arms assured. Long after the Dark Lord had succumbed to exhaustion, she had lain awake waiting for the usual shame and guilt to rob her of the small glimpses of happiness it saw. She didn't know whether to be alarmed that it never came as she nestled closer falling asleep in his arms.
Little did the Dark Mistress know that there are some promises, although made with pure intentions, that cannot be kept.