Chapter 4
Lord Voldemort POV
For the last half an hour, he had been trying to talk sense to Potter, but it seemed that the man was not in any mood to negotiate.
"How do we know, Lord Voldemort, that you would not start annexing Briarwood. My first-commander Sir Ronald has apprised me of your bloodthirsty troops."
The killing-instinct rising in him was hard to tamp down, but he did it somehow. He did not know how Briarwood had not already been attacked multiple times if their King was reposing his trust in incompetent soldiers like Weasley. And so far, it seemed that Potter had no independent thinking—his wife influenced him to put her brothers in key portfolios and he did that, and now, this Weasley influenced him. The famed bravery of the blood of Gryffindor was clearly absent in the man.
By now, he was close to ending Potter himself, but he couldn't do that, just like he couldn't kill of Albus—both were annoying, but killing Kings always resulted in war, which was to be avoided, at least for now. Unbidden, the image of the brunette sorceress came to his mind. She definitely had protective tendencies considering the single-minded focus with which she had protected her familiar, she had a good control over wandless magic, and she had been pleasing to look at.
His mind made up, he told Potter, "Your worry over Silverhaven attacking Briarwood is unfounded. Meadowland's principality was taken because of a deep conspiracy against us. However, since Briarwood is a peaceful nation, with no bad designs on Silverhaven, you needn't fear any attack from us. But still if you're worried, I would like to propose a marital alliance with the Granger clan. With marital ties between our nation, you can be assured of our peaceful relations."
Potter showed the slightest look of shock, before he schooled himself, "The Grangers...they...they don't have any claim to the throne anymore."
This was interesting to say the least. Why did the mere mention of the Grangers put this fellow on his toes.
Deciding to placate the floundering fellow, he said, "Indeed, only the House of Potter has rightful claim to the throne, but Grangers are still royal blood and since they have a daughter of marriageable age, I have proposed this alliance."
"And who exactly are you proposing she marry?"
With a grin that would have been considered evil by some, Voldemort answered, "She will be my bride."
"You! That is preposterous. You are merely a soldier of your country. How can our royal blood marry beneath the station!"
Potter's utter lack of tact, and even more, his appalling lack of information on his neighbouring country, made him furious. He had to remind himself to keep calm.
His response to Potter came through gritted teeth, "I am not merely the foot-soldier for Silverhaven as you well know. I am the General. And as for your concern about my blood, let me clarify that. Like my father before me, I am a direct cousin of King Thomas. My line has always been Generals to the serving King. Rest assured, I too am of royal blood."
Potter was obviously shocked by this news. "I ... I will have to think about this proposal."
"My troops and I shall remain here till the evening tomorrow. After I leave, my proposal lapses with my departure."
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Hermione POV
Hermione had been woken awake by the urgent shaking of her arm by her mother.
"We have received summons from the King. We have to leave right now. A carriage has been sent to collect us," her mother, Helene Granger informed her.
As she woke up groggily, she saw her father, Wendell Granger rushing around, filling his satchel with all kinds of herbs. Her father carried all possible medicinal herbs with himself going on any journey.
"Why do we have to go?" Hermione asked her mother.
"That's what I would like to know, but we cannot tarry long. Get up, and get dressed Hermione."
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Several hours later, as they reached the Castle, her parents were shown to a room, while she herself was taken to a different room.
As the maid escorted her inside, Hermione stopped in silent rage. Ginerva Potter-nee-Weasley stood before her. The maid quietly closed the door on them.
"Long time, no see, Hermione," Ginerva smirked at her.
"What do you want Ginny?", Hermione seethed at her.
"Ah-Ah, you must address me properly. I am your Queen."
Seeing Hermione's belligerent face, Ginny finally laid bare the reason for the summons, "When the King, my dear Harry, calls you in the morning to discuss your marriage to Lord Voldemort, you will say yes. Is that clear, Hermione?"
The shock of this news made her speechless for a moment. But she rallied herself with a deep breath, "What if I say no?"
"If you say 'no', the way I sent you away from the Castle, would seem a breeze in front of what I would do to your dear parents." With a high-pitched shriek Ginny enacted, "Oh! I have been poisoned by Mr. Granger's medicine. Oh! my child is dying, the Grangers have poisoned my child," Ginny ended on a cruel laugh. "You don't know Hermione, what I would do to get you out of Briarwood. You tried to steal my husband from me, and now you're trying to steal my brother Ronald. But isn't it just wonderful, that Lord Voldemort wishes to marry you—you should be grateful to even receive any proposal at your age. Marrying Lord Voldemort will solve your problems, namely, keeping your parents out of ill repute and preventing their deaths, and it will solve my problem, as I will see the last of you in Briarwood. So yes, tomorrow, you will agree to marry Lord Voldemort." With her piece said, Ginny flounced out of the room given to Hermione.
Tears were slowly tracking down her eyes. She remembered the time spent in this castle. As cousin to Harry, she had played with him in the grounds, and fed the ducks in the castle's pond. The security of the castle had been taken away from her when Ginny married Harry. A month into their marriage, Ginny had accused Hermione of trying to put an aphrodisiac in Harry's wine, in order to seduce him. Hermione had done no such thing, but Harry, who had been recently crowned had looked at her with suspicion, believing any spiel as a threat to his throne, and with Ginny's egging, Hermione and her parents had been sent away from the castle. As if that were not enough, when they moved to the town nearest to the Castle, Ginny's brother, Sir Ronald had taken an interest in her, and despite her rebuffing him many times, he had been tireless in professing his love for her—it was more a crush, but Hermione had not been able to get that through his thick head. Unfortunately, Hermione had been a first-hand victim of Ginny's irrational jealousy, and she knew that Ginny's threat of framing her parents falsely was not one to be taken lightly.
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Hermione POV
The next morning, at an early hour, she had agreed to wed Lord Voldemort, but only after talking to him. Harry had granted her an audience with the man who she was to wed. She was pacing the blue-room where she was to meet Lord Voldemort.
The man entered a few moments later. She had been surprised to see that he was the same person whose horse she had stopped the previous day. His visage was fierce. He could not be termed handsome, but his red eyes and savagely sharp features made him arresting to look at.
Bowing, she greeted him, "Lord Voldemort."
"You don't have to bow. We should not stand on formality with each other, Lady Hermione, after all, we are to be wed."
This was the first time she heard his voice, and the deep undertones sent shivers down her spine. Again, like the day before, this man was looking her up from head to toe, and she felt the urge to squirm under his scrutiny but she restrained herself.
"Since you request me to dispense with the formalities, I shall come straight to the point." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I have no objection to marrying you, provided...provided you allow me to bring both my parents to Silverhaven and get them a well-furnished home, and promise me their safety for the rest of their days."
"Why do you ask for this? You would be uprooting your parents from their home here."
"My intention is not about uprooting my parents, but ensuring their wellbeing. My parents are old. They rely on me, as much as I rely on them. I will not marry unless I know they are safe, and somewhere where I can personally see to their welfare."
A silence descended between them, which had Hermione worrying that he would refuse her request.
"Is that all? Is there anything else you want?"
She released the breath she had been holding, "Oh, and I have a familiar-cat. He will also be coming with me."
"Anyone else you want to take with you?", he asked her, and for the first time she saw humour in those red-eyes of his. That small glint of humour, and his slightly upturned lips, reassured her.
"No, no one else."
"Then, Lady Hermione, you'd best get yourself ready by 4 noon. We depart by night fall, and we will be wed before then."
--*--
True to his word, by 4 that day, they had exchanged their vows, and been pronounced husband and wife. The priest had not asked them to kiss, neither had he asked if anyone objected to their marriage—perhaps he had been told specifically to not say that in the ceremony—whatever be the reason, Hermione was glad she didn't have to kiss her husband right now. In the span of just 15 hours, she had been married, and the way of life she had grown accustomed to, was thrown into disarray. She only hoped that now that she and her parents would be out of sight of the demented main line of the royal family, they would get happier days.
--*--
Her parents were now under the Silverhaven guard, being escorted back to their house to pack up. Crookshanks would come later with her parents in a few days after they had packed up everything. The troop which Lord Voldemort had brought with him had been divided into two—one group accompanying her parents, and another group accompanying her and her new husband, back to Silverhaven. For a day, they rode like the devil was chasing them, and despite her asking her husband to slow down their journey into Silverhaven, his only reply had been, 'We must make it back before the full moon,' and to her complaints of being jostled around and bruised on her horse, her husband had merely lifted her and plunked her in front of him on his own horse.
After the gruelling journey she endured, she became convinced that Lord Voldemort was not just unromantic, but also completely hard-hearted, for he had not even batted an eye when she had cried of pain from saddle bruising. The infuriating man had merely told her to 'deal withit.' By the evening of the next day, she was convinced she had married the devil himself, and her body was tired to the bone. She thought that that's why he was called The Beast, because no matter how she had pleaded, he had not slowed their travelling speed. Only a beast could travel with the pace or stamina he displayed. She would have fallen off the large black charger, had it not been for Voldemort's hold on her.
As if taking pity on her, they reached Silverhaven a short while after, and an hour afterwards Voldemort lifted her off the horse to a two-storey house built near the woods. He had dismissed the troop of Knights at the Silverhaven border, and continued here alone with her.
Sweeping his hand towards the quaint place, he announced to her, "Welcome home, dear wife."