A soft knock on his door took Voldemort out of his memory. With one quick wave of his wand, he banished the Pensieve back into the cabinet before turning to the door leading to Hermione's room.
"Enter."
He was surprised to find her knocking on his door. She hadn't been with him long enough to already want to seek out his company of her own free will. Something had to have happened.
The white door opened, revealing a very different woman than he expected. There stood his sweet witch, her unruly hair tamed into a shimmering wave of chestnut-coloured curls. The dark red button-up blouse only accentuated her slender neck, while the high-waisted black dress pants made her appear taller than she was. There was a determination in her gaze as she looked up to him that he found entirely too precious.
"My sweet. You look delectable. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
For a moment, her gaze wavered, looking from him to her feet, around his spacious room, and back up to him. She licked her lips. "I felt it was time I joined the family at the dinner table. As such, I wanted to make sure I don't disgrace you."
"I see," he purred, circling her once to take in the new appearance. It was obvious now that Narcissa had gotten her claws into his little witch. For better or worse, the woman seemed to have sped up a process that he had wanted to start anyway. He would need to keep an eye on the lady of the house, make sure she didn't intervene too much. But if it was only clothing the woman had to offer, that was fine by him.
"Let me make sure I don't shame you, then." He shot Hermione a grin, before gently pushing her further into his room so he could close the door behind them.
He was wearing his usual black robes. He liked how comfortable they were while simultaneously making everyone around him nervous. But if his witch wanted to look good, he would give her that. With practiced ease, he let his robes fall to the ground, exposing his marble skin to her surprised eyes.
"Should I … should I wait in my room until you are ready?"
He chuckled. "Of course not, my sweet. Don't be shy. You can look."
While he opened his wardrobe, pretending to ignore her, he saw her swallow hard from the corner of his eyes. Her cheeks had just the slightest hint of pink in them and instead of looking away, she actually studied his almost naked body. He took his time deciding on what to wear, basking in her silent admiration. He was well aware that this body was not pleasant to look at; that especially his face and the way his skin was almost grey in parts was disconcerting to most. But in Hermione's eyes, he could only ever detect awe. As though she couldn't believe he was real.
He could not wait to have his old appearance back. If she already liked him when he looked like this, she would definitely give up any resistance then.
After he put on black trousers and a black dress shirt, he turned to her, a black necktie in hand. "Would you be so kind?"
Her eyes went wide for a moment, but she held out her hand nonetheless. "Of course, my lord."
She stepped in front of him, closer than he had expected her to. The movements of her hands were practiced as she wrapped the tie around his neck. He studied her while she was focused on getting the knot right. There was a confidence in the way she touched him as she tied the knot, an ease as she stood so close that their whole bodies almost touched, that felt out of place.
When she was done, she patted him against the chest, smiling up at him through her long lashes. "There. Does that work, my lord?"
He caught her wrist with one hand, pulling her flush against his body. She blinked in surprise, but still exuded confidence. This was not right.
He brought his other hand to wrap around her throat, tilting her head back. Again, she only blinked and showed again that slight touch of red in her cheeks. He stared into her eyes, trying to find an answer in them. He was tempted to simply dive into her mind, but he held off on that. It was not yet time. She hadn't yet earned that respect.
Slowly, he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. They felt soft and warm and so very welcoming. He kissed her again, with more pressure this time, and she opened up for him without hesitation. His tongue slid into her mouth, swallowing a breathy moan that resonated through his body.
He let go of her again, stepping back and staring down at her. She was still smiling, her eyes glimmering in the low light of his bedroom.
Voldemort had to supress the urge to laugh. She was trying really hard, he had to give her that. But her attempts were so obvious, so pitiful, it was almost comical. His little witch wanted to play games, thinking she had any chance of winning against him.
"Come," he told her, holding her hand in his, "let's go down. The family will be delighted that you're joining us."
He picked up the black jacket that matched his dress pants and slipped into it, only shortly letting go of her hand. As they exited his room, he put her hand in the crook of his arm, leading her down the corridor like a gentleman should do with his lady. She was following him with small, quick steps, almost needing two where he needed one. He noticed then that she was wearing high heels, hidden under the long trousers. No wonder she appeared taller than usual. She really was trying.
As they descended the stairs, images came to life in his mind. Hermione in nothing but these stilettos. Bent over his desk, hands scraping the wooden surface for purchase as he pounded into her with brutal force. Her perfectly sculpted curls coming undone, sticking to her neck and face, sweat making her body glisten.
He shot her a glance from the side, receiving another sweet smile as answer. It was all he needed to see. She thought herself ready for him. He would show her how wrong she was.
But for now, he had to wait. For now, he had the amusement of the Malfoys and the Lestranges to look forward to as they were about to dine in the presence of a mudblood. He was glad that Severus would be joining them as well. He was a key player in all of this, after all. And seeing this stern, impassive man rattled never failed to make him laugh.
When they arrived in the huge dining room, the Lestranges were already seated. As was the custom, Bella sat to the immediate left of his place at the head of the table, followed by Rodolphus next to her and then as a new addition Rabastan. Narcissa and Lucius were both standing together at a window, discussing something in low tones. Severus stood behind the chair to the right, greeting him with a bow. His eyes rested on Hermione momentarily, before he resumed staring ahead.
"Bella, dear," Voldemort addressed the older witch, "please make space for my sweet witch, will you? She'll sit to my left going forward whenever she wants to join us."
Six pairs of eyes stared at him as deafening silence engulfed the room. Hermione on his arm stood tall, not showing any hint of fear as every face in the room turned hostile.
"My lord?" Bella's voice trembled from barely suppressed anger. "Did I understand you right?"
He looked down upon the witch that he once enjoyed having in bed. "You understood perfectly well. Don't test my patience."
Bellatrix immediately got up and stepped away from the chair. He could see pure hatred in her face as she eyed Hermione, looking her up and down as if measuring her. Then she whipped around and stomped to the chair next to Rabastan, sitting down with the pout of a petulant little girl. She never knew how to filter her emotions.
He pulled out the chair a little further, guiding Hermione to sit down and pushed it forward again. She looked back up at him, smiling and mouthing a silent thanks. He bowed down, planting a soft kiss on her neck in response.
As he settled into his own chair, he caught Severus as he was adjusting his expression again. There was a stiffness to each movement of the black-haired man that told him all he needed to know. Severus was still shocked to see Hermione Granger here.
"We're so glad you could join us this evening." Narcissa's soft voice broke the tension in the room as she sat down next to Severus. "I hope you enjoy yourself enough so you might join us every day from now on."
Hermione smiled. "You are too kind, Mrs Malfoy. I hope I'm not intruding."
"Of course not!" Rabastan leaned both his elbows on the table and looked at her with a tilted head. "I'm happy to no longer be the youngest one here. And I can already feel you bringing a certain air with you."
To his surprise, Hermione ignored the comment and instead proceeded to carefully place the white napkin on her lap. Looking at him expectantly, her fingers played with the stem of her wine glass. His sweet witch really thought she could do whatever she wanted.
He grabbed his own glass and raised it. "To our special guest, Hermione Granger. May she help bring about a better future for us all."
Severus was the first to repeat the toast. The others joined in shortly after, though he could distinctly hear the sneer in Bella's voice as she spat out Hermione's name. Perhaps he should simply get rid of her. Why give her any chance at redemption when she so clearly held no respect for him?
He took a small sip from the rich wine, enjoying the taste of the alcohol on his tongue. It was only a shadow of what it used to be. This useless body gave him a lot of heightened senses, but most of the food now tasted like ash in exchange. Nodding to his witch, he cut into the steak that appeared on his plate as soon as he put down his glass. She followed him, as did the rest of the table.
His little witch ate in small, dainty bites, chewing slowly, using the napkin each time before she took a sip from the wine. Her body language spoke of the practiced ease of someone well accustomed to formal table manners. He could see that everyone around the table shot her a glance every now and again, as if to make sure she didn't embarrass anyone.
Only Severus to his right appeared unmoved. He cut into his steak methodically, the knife sliding through the tender meat easily, each bite exactly the same size. His eyes were trained on his plate, his hands and arms only ever doing the absolute minimum to transport food from the plate to his mouth. Voldemort didn't know whether to be impressed or bored.
"So, professor. How is Hogwarts?"
Snape's hands stilled. For a moment, he didn't move at all. Then, he looked up from his plate and directly into the eyes of the witch sitting on the other side of the table. "Everything is running smoothly. The new teachers integrated easily into the staff, which allows me to spend most of my free time here."
Hermione took a mouthful of wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a little too much force. Her eyes shimmered dangerously in the candle light. "All the students enjoying these new teachers? Getting the best education they could hope for?"
Voldemort glanced between the two, while the rest of the table suddenly only had eyes for their meal. He could feel the tension between his right-hand man and his sweet witch. They were so different in every aspect, and still they were matched so evenly. He needed them to duel again, soon.
"Every deserving student is getting the best education, of course."
Hermione snorted. "Deserving student. Let me guess, that means only purebloods?"
Severus put his knife and fork away as if to fully concentrate on her. His face remained as calm as ever, betraying nothing of what he thought about the little witch's fiery questions. "We endeavour to help pureblood witches and wizards reach their full potential. But any student can be deserving, so long as they show an earnest interest in learning and the necessary respect for the teachers, the school, and the headmaster."
With a roll of her eyes, Hermione propped her elbows on the table, lacing the fingers of her hands in each other. Her gaze never left the other wizard's face. "You really know how to use words to make prejudice and discrimination sound good. I never took you for someone of so many flattering words."
"Of course you didn't," he stated flatly. "You don't know me."
Voldemort chuckled at that, but he had to step in. Patting Severus lightly on the shoulder, he shook his head. "Enough of this, Severus. Don't be so harsh on my sweet little witch. She dislikes you and you cannot fault her for that, surely?"
"I don't think dislike even scratches the surface of what I feel for him," Hermione hissed.
Something flickered in Severus' eyes. It was only the briefest movement, but Voldemort spotted it immediately. This wizard was not so unaffected by Hermione's unbridled hate as he pretended to be.
"I don't fault her for anything, my lord. She is only 18 after all. Barely more than a child. I would be a bad teacher if I held her emotions against her."
"You dare!" Hermione immediately shot back, but Voldemort stopped her with one raised hand.
He levelled his stare at his most loyal follower. As much fun as he had when these two battled it out, this was something else. His voice was low and cold as he said, "Careful, Severus. Nobody is above being made an example of. I hear your words. And I hope for you that I'll never have to hear them again."
The dark eyes immediately snapped to him. "I apologise, my lord. And to you as well, Miss Granger."
His witch was trembling with barely contained rage, but he didn't care. He felt the same rage, though for an entirely different reason. That Severus of all people would undermine him like this should not go unpunished.
This was not the right setting. This was supposed to be the glorious introduction of his pet to the family. He would not ruin it by letting his temper get the better of him. No. Instead, he would do the only thing that was right to do now, especially after hearing those insulting words.
Gracefully, he stood up and held out his hand to Hermione. "Come, my sweet. We shall retire early today."
It took a moment before she moved. When she finally placed her hand in his and let him pull her close to his chest, he made a display of embracing her from behind, closing both arms around her waist. He placed an open-mouthed kiss against her neck, pressing his hips against her butt. He could see the goosebumps on her skin and the heat creep into her cheeks.
With a deliberately heated look to the rest of the table, he declared, "All this talk has made me so very hungry. You will have to excuse us."
He looked directly at Severus as he grabbed Hermione's jaw and forced her head to the side, pressing his lips against her without every breaking eye contact with the other man. Then he stepped back, pulling her with him, one hand on the lower back, his fingers firmly pressing into the soft flesh of her bottom. She shot him a questioning look, but he ignored it. She was his to do with as he pleased and they should all know it.
Severus Snape would suffer for his ill-placed remark.