Voldemort was surprised to see the wards up when he returned to his room in the afternoon. Usually, his witch only warded her room at night. Not that it actually protected her from him if he truly wanted to intrude. But it was effective still, as he would never be able to copy the signature of her spell work.

Feeling the wards on the door that connected their two rooms, he contemplated what to do. His highest priority was to get Hermione's memory fresh after her return from Severus. He needed to look at them and extract them for his Pensieve. What was his little witch doing in her room that needed these wards?

As he pulled out his wand and undid each spell, he noticed that another layer of protection wrapped around the whole room. Some ward he hadn't seen her use before. Whatever she was doing, she wanted more protection than ever. Doing that straight after meeting with Severus didn't bode well. Whatever had happened between them, he needed to know. Now.

It took him longer than expected to undo the last ward. There was a vicious attack woven into the defensive spell that would trigger if he slipped even once. His little witch was living up to the image he had crafted of her these past decades. Watching her calculated cruelty against students, teachers, and nosey reporters alike had made him long for her all the more. This new ward now showed him that she still was as capable as ever.

When he finally opened the door, he half expected her to be in the middle of something nefarious. Finding her fast asleep on the bed was a surprise. For a long moment, he stood in the door frame, simply staring down at her sleeping form. Even now, she was radiant. In nothing more than a tiny slip, she looked more enticing than ever.

He stepped noiselessly over the carpet until he could crouch down next to her face. She was still asleep, oblivious to his intrusion. Smiling, he stroked her cheek. This was an exhausted witch, nothing more. He should have expected that an Occlumency lesson with Severus would power her out. His Hermione wouldn't turn on him so quickly.

Quietly, he pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down. Having her asleep would make it even easier to inspect her recent memories. He would need to be careful to not accidentally see anything that happened outside the Occlumency lesson. He didn't want to see it because he didn't need to. He could still read her like an open book, her emotions being on display for everyone to see at all times.

Gently pressing two fingers against her temple, wand in hand, he slipped into her mind.

The first image that came up was of Bellatrix and Rabastan. He almost wiped it away before he caught a glimpse of something strange. He hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether he should break his resolve, and then decided to indulge just this once. Grinning, he watched as Rabastan threatened his little witch, only to be told off first by Hermione and then by Bellatrix. Oh, his sweet witch was so confused, watching Bella defend her despite the obvious hatred. He had to supress a chuckle. Bella was really trying to make amends, he had to give her that.

Rabastan though. That cheeky boy. He enjoyed his wild energy, but putting his hands on Hermione was not something he could tolerate. He would need to make sure that Rabastan got that message loud and clear.

Still smiling, he let go of that memory and dug deeper. There it was, a scene taking place in the headmaster's office. He went back through the images until the moment Severus first entered the room. Halting the flow of the memory, he studied the dark-clad man.

Through Hermione's eyes, he appeared cold as ever, but Voldemort could tell. Severus was similarly anxious as his little witch in that moment. He watched as he stepped through the room and sat down, stiff and lacking his usual elegance. It was almost as if …

Voldemort let the scene play out further, listened to the cold words exchanged between the two of them. He felt a wave of annoyance wash over him as he heard Severus say "gently" with such derision. His trusted right-hand man really was pushing his limits.

He watched as Severus expressed surprise that Hermione had had her mind invaded before. The small widening of his eyes betrayed what Voldemort already suspected. Severus indeed expected him to use Legilimency on Hermione in turn to watch their interactions. He wasn't actually surprised by the revelation, but rather anxious to have his fear confirmed.

Severus did fear him. At least there was that. Fear was the easiest tool to keep people in line. But he always thought that Severus actually believed in the cause and shared his ideals. That he chose his side definitively when he murdered Dumbledore. Was that really the case?

He let the scene play out. Despite Hermione's protest against his methods, Severus appeared extraordinarily gentle with her. Whether that was because those were his instructions, or because he had a soft spot for the girl, Voldemort couldn't tell.

At the same time, Hermione's emotions changed. He knew from her memories that she always regarded the Potions professor as one of the most brilliant minds at Hogwarts, even if she disagreed with his harsh and unfair treatment of some students, herself included. He knew that she admired him for his work for the Order.

Just as he knew that her regard turned into deep rooted hatred the moment she learned of the ultimate betrayal. It was that anger and hatred that she displayed so openly whenever she shared the same space as Severus that amused him.

Watching the lesson through her eyes, he could feel her old emotions stir up again. She actually felt comfortable with him in his role as a teacher. She was all too happy to learn. Even through her shame and frustration about the particular memory they selected as study subject, she still shone with eagerness.

Voldemort let go of her mind again, leaning back in the chair. Something in him stirred as well. Something that didn't feel right. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he couldn't quite place.

He was angry.

Yes, that was it. This witch was his. She would learn from him. He was her master. She would submit to him, very soon she would submit. No one but he was allowed to see her knowledge thirsty face light up with eagerness. Those eyes should be only on him.

He had expected to learn more about Severus by inspecting this memory, but instead, he saw that side of Hermione that was his and his alone; how she let someone see it that she hated so much. That was not right.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was on her bed, hovering over her, staring down on her sleeping face. He would wake her up with his magic rubbing against her aura, reminding her that she was his, that she would never be able to escape him or even look at anyone but him. Yes. Then she would cry beautifully for him, beg him to touch her, and he would deny her. Punishing her for showing herself to someone else.

He leaned down a little and pressed his lips against her throat. She smelt faintly of sweat, but still as sweet as ever. He took a strand of his magic and let it flow out, ready to touch her.

Just as he pulled back from her throat, the softest moan came over her lips. He froze, letting go of his magic. How could he forget?

He still didn't understand why he reacted to touching her aura just as she reacted to his magic. He couldn't do that again until he fully knew what was happening and how to control it.

Cursing, he fisted the blanket with both hands and buried his face in her hair. He longed to feel her aura again. It was too addictive. Her sweet little moan had reminded him how good she felt under his hands when she was melting into his touch. Even now, he could feel himself grow hard, eager to have her.

She still needed to be punished.

"My lord?"

Brown eyes were staring up at him, full of surprise and confusion. The slightest frown between her eye brows showed him that Hermione did not like the fact that he so easily broke through her wards. But there was no fear. That would not do.

He grabbed her wrists in one hand and used the other to close around her throat, squeezing tightly. "Hello, my sweet. How nice of you to wake up for me."

She struggled against him, trying in vain to free her hands or move her head. But he simply increased the pressure on her neck, watching with delight as he saw panic creep into her expression.

"What are you doing?" Hermione pressed out, her voice trembling as she struggled against his hand.

"You really don't know what you did wrong, my sweet? Really?"

"Is this about Rabastan?" She sounded breathless as she struggled against his grip around her throat.

He didn't reply, instead studying the emotions on her face. There was confusion and fear, but not a hint of guilt. His sweet, innocent witch had no idea what she was doing to the men around her. That was both endearing and aggravating. He would have to train her better.

"Rabastan will learn that his importance is nothing compared to yours," he purred. "You did exactly right, as did Bella, surprisingly."

She scowled as she heard that. "So, this is about Snape?"

He simply nodded. As he did, he could see the fear subsiding in her eyes, replaced by annoyance and anger. "I thought you were less mad than you made people believe, but it seems my assessment was wrong."

He laughed despite feeling only growing rage. "It seems, sweet witch, that you know nothing about me after all."

She had the audacity to roll her eyes at him. "Right. Sure. Whatever you say. Because first sending me to Snape, who I hate, and then getting mad at me that I spent time in his presence against my own wishes speaks of total soundness of mind."

A wave of ice-cold hate washed over him, engulfing his whole body, edging him on to just close his hand around her a little more and kill her on the spot. She knew nothing. She did not know him.

He swallowed, forcing the emotion down. "Your ignorance might be cute, but I expect you to know better."

There was no answer to that. She just stared up at him as if he wasn't even there. A strangely focused expression came over her eyes, wiping away any annoyance or confusion that she might have still felt. For a brief moment, he wondered whether he overdid it with the pressure on her throat.

But that was not it. Just as he realised what she was doing, a wave of pure magic hit him. He had no time to raise a shield. The wave hit his whole body, pushing him away. Before he could blink, he tumbled from the bed and crashed shoulders first into the carpet.

Just as he landed, Hermione was on him, wand in hand, straddling his hips. Propped up on her left arm, she pressed the tip of her wand against his cheek. The same rage he felt flared in her eyes.

"You come into my room, break through all my wards, and abuse me after I did exactly what you wanted to," she hissed, "and you expect me to just cower and take it? I think not. I went to Snape, like you asked. I started learning Occlumency, like you asked. I did all that not knowing why I had to do it, but I did it because you asked and because you agreed that we are partners. If this is your thanks for doing as you say, I will never do anything again."

He could still feel her magic crackle all around the room. Whether intentionally or not, she was filling the air with her aura, lighting every nerve of his on fire. He should be furious, but instead, he just felt hungry.

And amused, so very amused. "Are you quite finished?"

Her eyes widened and she pressed her wand harder into his skin. "You are begging to be turned into a frog."

"Oh, Hermione," he sighed, "you are so adoringly innocent."

With that, he summoned his wand into his hand at the same time as he threw her off him. While she was still tumbling over the floor, he disarmed her with a silent Expelliarmus. Within three heartbeats, he was on top of her again, smiling broadly.

"You really are cute. But as I said, you should know better. You didn't really think you could do anything to me that I wouldn't allow you to do?"