The Burning Pen

Dark Lady
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 2 ~ Snape Makes His Report

“Hermione Granger has returned?” Albus asked Snape incredulously as he sat in an armchair in the Headmaster’s office.

Snape nodded.

”Yes, she has—and made quite the grand entrance. She’s killed Voldemort,” the Potions master purred. “Right in his own throne room filled with Death Eaters. She’s avenged her friends and in the process brought an end to Voldemort’s reign.”

Albus sat behind his desk, stunned. Hermione had killed Voldemort? How? Where did she get the ability? And why wasn’t she attacked by his minions?

“But Severus—Tom Riddle was a very powerful wizard! What spell did she use? How did she keep the Death Eaters at bay?”

Snape eyes glittered.

”I couldn’t tell, Headmaster. Her attack was wandless and I heard no spell uttered. She simply made a whirling gesture with her arms, clapped her hands together and thrust her palms toward the Dark Lord. A fiery blast engulfed him, and rather than burn him, it appeared his heart was exploded within his chest. Then he fell to the ground, his body twisted horribly. She then transferred his mark to her own forearm, killed a few dissenters then took the throne. She had me drop Peter Pettigrew off at the Ministry to stand trial for his crimes. For all intents and purposes, Headmaster, Hermione Granger is now the Dark Lord—no – the Dark Lady of the Death Eaters. She asked me to inform you that the wizarding world is now safe.”

“She’s made herself their leader, Severus?” Albus asked him hollowly; unable to believe Voldemort was finally destroyed.

”Without question,” Snape said, then added, “she is truly dark, Headmaster. Her eyes turn red when she is angered and power radiates off her in waves. She isn’t the witch we knew before Harry Potter’s death. I suspect the Dark Arts are the basis of her new abilities.”

”The Dark Arts,” Albus breathed, shaking his head. “That’s not good, Severus. Using evil for good does not negate the evil. She could be compromised. Her soul could be even blacker than that of the despot that she killed.”

Snape nodded.

”I suppose that is possible, Headmaster, although I believe she retains some of her Gryffindor qualities and personality. She did send Peter to the Ministry, and has plans to ‘schedule’ the Death Eaters’ reparations to the wizarding world. Apparently, not even the Dark Arts can override her propensity to be—annoying.”

The Headmaster didn’t smile at Snape’s comment. It was good that Voldemort was no more, but Hermione with such power, not coming to see him and sending an envoy in Snape disturbed him. What if she had idea of really becoming the next despot?

”Severus, I know you believe with Voldemort’s death your duties as a spy should be over—however, your services are needed more than ever now. I need to know what Hermione is up to and whether or not she is another danger that has to be stopped.”

Snape looked at Albus dispassionately. He had hoped it would be over, but realized that this new Hermione Granger would be a source of worry and suspicion to the Headmaster. She was even more powerful than Voldemort, and no one knew what her agenda was besides killing the wizard responsible for the death of Harry and Ron, and so many others. Had she even thought that far ahead?

Snape sighed inwardly. It was easy to see Hermione was just as jaded as Voldemort by the easy way she dispatched eleven lives and randomly Crucio’d a muttering Death Eater. She might be one to torture as well, if she felt it necessary. He was still dangling over a smoldering cauldron.

”I understand,” Snape said softly.

”Good. For now, we’ll keep Voldemort’s death to ourselves. If it gets out, let it be from his servants. Let the entire story come from his servants,” Albus said.

“Yes, sir,” Snape said, rising.

Albus’ blue eyes turned upward as he looked at the pale, dark wizard.

”Let us hope that Hermione’s return is truly a blessing and not a greater curse,” he said to the wizard somberly.

Snape didn’t reply. He simply nodded and left Albus’ office.

As far as he was concerned, anyone was better than Voldemort.

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”Oh, dear gods!” Draco groaned.

He was sitting on the throne of bones, naked and howling as Hermione rode him viciously, holding on to the back of the throne for leverage as she drew herself over the blonde wizard’s cock insanely, her eyes flaming and pussy feeling three times hotter than normal to the wizard.

”Yesssss, Draco,” Hermione hissed. “You’re my bitch, aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

Draco couldn’t do anything more than helplessly grasp her waist as Hermione poured it on. The wizard’s back was bruising against the hard bones as she jerked against him powerfully. It was as if Hermione hadn’t had sex in years.

The fact was she hadn’t. And she was making up for it now.

”Give me that cock, pureblood!” Hermione cried out passionately, whirling on his tool and tightening up.

Draco cringed even as he gasped because that voice was not one he expected to come out of her mouth. It was deep, hollow and distinctly male. A bit of smoke wafted out of her nose

Shit!

“Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes!” Hermione howled in a high-pitched but definitely female voice as she orgasmed hard, the force of it choking Draco’s cock before searing juices covered it, the witch quaking against him as a long forgotten and very much needed bliss washed over her. He could hear her toes crack.

”Fuck, that was good,” Hermione breathed against his ear just as Draco came as well, forcing himself deeper into his mistress and filling her with spurt after spurt of creamy come.

It was good, but Draco wasn’t used to such treatment. He was always the dominator during sex. He didn’t like being the submissive. He did feel like the witch’s bitch. And worse, he felt used and had been nearly scared to death at the way her eyes were and her voice changed. It was like Hermione was possessed.

The witch climbed off Draco and looked at his flaccid organ and beautiful body with appreciation. His long blonde hair was tousled and damp, and he glistened with perspiration. A scarlet and gold collar was fastened around his neck.

”I think I’ll keep you, Draco,” Hermione said, flicking her hand at him, Scourgifying him instantly. “Now get the hell off my throne!”

Draco quickly got out of the throne and hurried down the stairs, turning to face Hermione then lowering himself on one knee, his head bowed. Hermione cleaned and dressed herself, cleaned the throne, then sat down on it imperiously, staring down at the pureblood.

“You may rise,” she said softly.

Draco stood, looking up at her, his gray eyes steady. Hermione flicked her hand at him and he was dressed in splendid black robes. But the Gryffindor collar was still visible. He was also aware he didn’t have on anything beneath them.

”You’ve served me well, Draco. You will dwell with me here in the fortress for most of the time. I will allow you to go home when you have a need. You will be to me what Peter was to Voldemort, although you will have different duties. Having you under my thumb is quite satisfying and it doesn’t have to be unpleasant for you.”

Hermione cocked her head at him.

”But you will fuck no one but me,” she growled.

Draco’s eyes widened. He had several mistresses and a fiancé.

”But I am to be married,” he told Hermione.

”Fine, when you marry her, you can fuck her. She’ll be your wife after all, but you will still service me until I tire of you. If your ‘fiancée’ can’t handle those arrangements, I suggest she find another husband,” Hermione said coldly.

”You’re not much of a Gryffindor,” Draco said before he could help himself. Damn, now she was going to Crucio him.

But Hermione’s eyes just narrowed.

”No, I’m not. Being a Gryffindor cost me my two best friends. All that sense of fair play led to their murders. We should have played just as dirty as Voldemort. We should have slaughtered his Death Eaters and supporters on sight. Killed every blasted one of them. So many worthy lives would have been saved by the destruction of the unfit who followed him—“

Draco paled at the malice in her voice as Hermione’s eyes reddened.

”You’re lucky, Draco, that I didn’t become what I am sooner, or there would be no Malfoys or Blacks or any living Death Eaters. As it stands, my half-soul is growing. A year and a half ago I would have killed every Death Eater and their families in retribution without the slightest remorse. My hatred was unearthly, my rage, terrible. It was what fired me, what strengthened me, what took over me during my training. It was what destroyed your master, and those eleven who challenged me. But I purposely waited to return, wanting to have some of my humanity back, just enough to spare all of you. If I had come back earlier, I can say with certainty, only Severus Snape would have survived the holocaust I would have inflicted on all of you. So be glad I’ve decided to fuck you rather than kill you, Draco. This could have been much worse. Obey me, and things will go well for you. Disobey me and—“

Suddenly, Draco was screaming, tied to a spit and slowly turning over licking tongues of flame. He could feel his skin cooking, hear it sizzling. All around him was the sounds of demonic laughter, something croaking “Baste him a little more!”

Then he was back in front of Hermione, gasping, touching himself as he still smelled the stench of burning flesh.

”Just an illusion, but I have the power to make it reality, Draco, so don’t test me. Just be a good little boy toy toady and we’ll do fine. Now, how does a girl get a decent meal around here? I’m famished.”

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A/N: Just a little something for this story. Thanks for reading. ***

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