Forever more my Lioness

Chapter 7

Hermione woke in the early hours of the morning with her head throbbing. Blasted fire whiskey... ugh... what happened yesterday? She tried to recall. I drank with the bloody Dark Lord! What was I thinking?! The memory lapse could be from her drunken state, or he obliviated her... in either case the thought made her ill.

She gingerly sat up in bed, now taking notice of her sleeping attire that she has no memory of I donning. But she has a sneaking suspicion that it was not her that chose this bit of lingerie to sleep in. A shower sounds divine right now... Hermione stepped off the bed and expected to reach the cold hardwood floor. Instead her toes were graced with a soft lump of scales.

The scream that followed her toes surprise was surely heard for a mile outside the mansion.

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Voldemort had apparated his former nemesis to the Riddle Manor. He was as peachy pleased as a Dark Lord could be. Harry Potter right under his nose, a beautiful, powerful, excruciatingly opinionated, nerve-plucking, patience-testing,, and headstrong, witch upstairs in bed. One who promised the key to true mastery of death. All was going smoothly for Lord Voldemort indeed.

The Dark Lord showed Harry to a guest room where he planned on having him reside tonight.

"You will not see Hermione tonight as she is a little inebriated from indulging in several glasses too many of firewhiskey, and I have put her under induced sleep so she can recover quicker. You'll find everything you need in the connected en suite. Should you need anything else call for the house elf Ipsy and she will be able to assist you. Before you try to lure her in like you did with the Malfoy's house elf know she has strict orders not to have unnecessary conversation with you. She will not take you to Miss Granger, or relay messages to anyone for you other than to myself. Is that clear, Potter?" He raised his hairless brow at him expecting challenge.

A noncommittal Thanks was all he received  before the boy who wouldn't stop living slumped on the guest bed.

You still puzzle me boy... Voldemort thought, before leaving the room without another word. He wasn't a stupid man and definitely didn't leave anything to chance. On his departure he cast strong wards to keep Harry in, and to keep everyone else but himself out. Otherwise he was sure he would have an attempt on his life before sunrise. Finally some peace... Voldemort exhaled deeply.

He strode down the hallway into the library that Hermione pines for. He sat down in the plush wingback chair and lifted his feet up. A small pop was heard and Ipsy bowed deeply to the Dark Lord. Earl grey tea and biscuits was the demand he made of the little elf and she popped away to start her task. With his late night snack being readied he summoned the age-brittled tome that lead to Hermione's discovery into his waiting hand
Yes it promised immortality, but it didn't describe the process. Surely there must be some sort of ritual or rite. I couldn't let myself imagine that it could possibly be as easy as marrying the little witch and we would have immortality bestowed upon us. He hypothesized. His eyes roamed over the yellowing pages going through every single one in search of the answers he was longing for. He flipped back to the book that contained the prophecy and to his astonishment the page no longer held the prophecy. Only an intricate set of runes  he had never encountered before. Something... about this writing had an air of familiarity but again, the language didn't match up so it had to be a coincidence thrown in by fate to make him hesitate. He flipped another page and it too, was decorated in this eerie runic language. He quickly flipped through the entire book to find the entire thing back to front filled with the mysterious lettering.  All but the first page which now was home to the prophecy... He slammed the book onto the end table startling the little elf who had just made it back with his tea and biscuit. The elf rushed the tea and biscuits to the end table and popped away in order to escape her masters foul mood which could only end in pain or death for the house elf.