Chapter Text
Sentimentality was Hermione Granger’s downfall.
Well, not sentimentality so much as staying behind an extra day to settle her parent’s affairs. She had no more than stepped out of her childhood home when she was stunned and snatched off the front step.
The world was wrapped in the dark blues of evening when she next became aware.
“My loyal ssservantsss. Today is an aussspiciousss occasssion. In celebration, I bring you a new plaything.”
A chill raced down her spine. It was the first time she had ever heard him speak, but the hissing cadence could only belong to Lord Voldemort. The last thing Hermione wanted to do was to bring attention to herself, but she needed to get out of there immediately.
She struggled for several moments, but all of her efforts proved completely futile. She couldn’t move at all. She was bound in place by invisible binds, her muscles not following her commands in even the slightest fashion. To make things even worse, her mouth had been gagged by a strange ball thing, and worst of all, she was completely naked.
It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. And Voldemort was still making some self aggrandizing speech.
“—ssstolen magic. But the true story is worse—descendants of sssquibs, our magical brethren, breeding stock returned to our dwindling numbers. The mudbloodsss must be brought back into the fold. Starting with Harry Potter’s own.”
Revulsion filled her, and she wished that she had remained asleep and didn’t have to face this horror while aware. She could feel the eyes of the room fall on to her, and her heart beat in her chest like a drum.
“Ssseverusss,” Voldemort said, “you are long over due your reward for killing that old fool. I remember your fondness for mudbloods. You shall be the firssst to breed her.”
“You honor me, my Lord,” Snape began, and if Hermione had been capable, she would have vomited. This couldn’t be happening. “Only, I am concerned my duties at Hogwarts will interfere with—”
“You will breed her firssst, Ssseveruss. I want her pregnant before we return her, and you will claim her maidenhead to ensure that.”
Snape inclined his head, stepping forward from the crowd of assembled death eaters.
“Remove your masks. I want the Granger girl to both know her place and who put her there.”
One by one, their masks fell away. Some were known to her like Snape, the Malfoys, Pettigrew, but many others were not by their face alone.
“Begin,” Voldemort directed.
Hermione was hoisted magically onto a slab-like table that had not been there moments prior, her limbs arranging themselves as though she were a marionette being tugged and pulled just so. Her arms were secured over her head, her legs spread wide, exposing her virgin pussy for all to see.
“The normal enchantments, my lord?” Snape asked, as he stepped between her thighs. “She has already been given the fertility potion.”
“Ah, I almost forgot,” Voldemort said dramatically.
Her position gave him an excellent view of her impending rape and defilement, and granted her a similarly excellent view of the Dark Lord on his dais in return.
He raised his wand, pointing it at her, and for the briefest moment, Hermione thought he might cast the killing curse to grant her an escape from the torment. Her thoughts raced as she shuttered that thought away; the mad Dark Lord would never be so kind. She hoped for an imperio that would at least let her dissociate—
She didn’t recognize the sibilant words that fell from his lips, but the rush of magic hit her with the force of a sudden squall.
Heat enveloped every fibre of her being, burning her from the inside, making her want, making her need—
Hermione’s nipples peaked, the first blush of wetness—her arousal leaking from her quim. Oh Merlin, was it a lust spell he’s just cast? She had wanted to dissociate, not have her body enjoy the experience!
Snape fiddled with his robes, still completely clothed even as she was as bare as the day she was born. Without a word, he freed his cock, and it jutted obscenely—large, and hard, and how the bloody hell was that supposed to fit inside her?
He didn’t give her time to think; the head of his cock sliding up and down her slit, coating himself in her suddenly liberal juices. This was wrong. So wrong. Only weeks ago, he’d killed Dumbledore, and now he—
Sudden pain yanked her out of her despairing thoughts as her former professor speared her with his dick, breaching her nubile body for the first time, her virgin blood smearing obscenely on his length.
A new magic welled within her, Snape lifting one of his hands to place it over her womb. The magic flowed between them like some horrific parody of symbiosis as he pulled back and thrust into her again.
Forgive me.
The thought was not her own, but surely it hadn’t come from him, as he snapped his hips again, setting into a rhythm of claiming her.
After a moment, he removed his hand, and Hermione could do nothing but watch as his cock spread her obscenely, making squelching noises with every roll of his hips.
To her horror, she realized the magic between them had created a view-finder of sorts, not completely unlike the x-rays her parents used at their dentistry practice.
She could see inside herself and watched in aroused horror as his every inward thrust brought the bulbous tip of his cock into contact with the mouth of her womb.
Her eyes pricked with tears, even as her pleasure heightened. From secret, stolen moments she had used to familiarize herself with her body, Hermione knew she was swiftly rising to orgasm. Snape moved a hand to her mons, the other adjusting his grip on her hip to hit a new angle inside her that felt so deliciously perfect.
Then his thumb brushed purposefully over her clit, and it was all over. She writhed for what little she could move, her pussy gripping his cock convulsively, milking him
like a vice, her womb contracting as she came, an ungodly pressure building the pit of her belly.
Snape grunted as he came, and she had the bizarre visual as he spurt his hot seed deep inside her, some of his cum invariably rushing into her waiting womb, where it was greedily accepted.
He collapsed on top of her, his cock softening inside her, still buried to the hilt.
After a small eternity, he pulled away, his softening cock leaving a trail of cum that leaked out of her as he tucked himself away.
“It is done, My Lord.”
Voldemort laughed low and raspy.
“Excellent. And now the fun beginsss.”