A/N And here is the Epilogue.
-Six Years Later-
Hermione walked out to the balcony of their Italian home, a bedsheet wrapped around her. The sun was rising and their top balcony was the perfect place to view it. She smiled. This was a very good life. She felt his arms wrap around her and leaned against him, "You feel good," she whispered.
"So do you," he mumbled into her ear before nibbling on it. "Enjoying your view?"
"Very much," she nodded, "It's so beautiful."
"Unfortunately mine is covered up," he growled. Hermione smiled and tilted her head back to kiss him.
Voldemort ran his hands over his lover's perfect body, "You look better nude."
"Well I wanted to look at the sunrise," Hermione answered. Voldemort stayed quiet as he held her in his arms. If Hermione ever regretted her decision, she never showed it. He rather liked that. Though he didn't know why she wouldn't be happy with him. He was quite the catch. Hermione eventually pulled him inside and they made out before moving down to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Their life in Italy was so different than the life she'd thought she might have had. According to the papers they received Ron was still living at home while Harry was engaged to Ginny. They were expecting their first child. Hermione watched her lover, in only his boxers, prepare breakfast. He was as sexy to her now as he had been before. Voldemort had never seen a point in changing his name, since Italy didn't care. Actually, Hermione thought Italy rather liked having him live there. They consulted with him on things like wards and building a strong wizarding center. He received very nice treatment here, where witches and wizards who practiced the Dark Arts were not ostracized.
One time at a benefit someone had asked her why she was with a man who was so much older than her; it was the first time anyone had ever asked her that question. Typically it was 'How could you be with Voldemort' or 'Do you know how many people he's killed'; to those questions she had answers, but she'd never really thought about the significant age gap.
After a pause she had responded that it never felt like there was an age gap, and described him as 'timeless'. Watching him make breakfast she believed that even more. He didn't ever act his age; but she liked that. She'd never really acted her age either. "Do you need any help?"
"Just sit over there in my t-shirt looking all sexy," he gently scolded her, turning back to smile at her.
Hermione grinned and leaned back in the chair, enjoying their banter. "I love you."
His smile grew, even if she couldn't see it. He plated breakfast and turned around to see her looking at him, "Hungry?"
"Starving," she smiled. They ate breakfast before washing the dishes and then going upstairs to shower. She loved him. Voldemort had never said to her those words, but she was patient. It had taken him over 70 years to feel heartbreak. She could wait for him to love her.
Voldemort got dressed up in his dress robes. He looked in the mirror. He was quite handsome. He looked toward the bathroom. Hermione was finishing up getting ready. Tonight was some big ball and they were both attending as guests. When Hermione entered he stared. She looked so incredibly beautiful. "You're breathtaking," he whispered. Hermione smiled and walked to him, Voldemort leaning in to kiss her.
"You look pretty sexy yourself," she smiled. "Time to go?"
"Yes ma'am," he nodded, offering her his arm.
They were dancing when the minister waved them over. They walked over to see a very beautiful woman on his arm, "Voldemort, Miss Granger," he nodded to them both, "this is my daughter, Antonia. She just returned from teaching at Beaubaxtons for five years."
Voldemort had to admire the young woman. She was beautiful by any standard that he could think of. "A pleasure to meet you," he said, politely bowing his head out of respect.
"Likewise," she responded, smiling at him. Hermione didn't like how she was looking at Voldemort. Like he was meat and Antonia was a lioness.
Voldemort's arm around Hermione gently squeezed before he spoke, "If you'll excuse us, dinner will be served soon."
"She was eying you," Hermione said once they were out of earshot, "like you were prey and she was a predator."
"The women of Beaubaxtons are known to be quite…predatory when it comes to the men they go after."
"As opposed to Durmstrang?"
"Quite," he answered with a smirk on his lips as he leaned in to kiss her, "You are much better looking than she is though."
"Women that are too aggressive do not appeal to me. But there's something else in her eyes…plotting, I think. Of what I don't know. I think we should stay on our guard with her."
"Maybe she wants our secrets."
He smirked. That seemed plausible. They would never reveal it. They ate, but checked their food and drink carefully the rest of the evening. When they left Voldemort Apparated them to France, then to Spain, then to Germany before taking them home. Their wards were intensified that night before he went upstairs. Entry into his home, unpermitted, was not survivable by intruders. They were well warded in the Dark Arts.
Voldemort entered his bedroom to see Hermione undressing. He moved to her, "Mine," he growled. Hermione moved into his touch and he smiled. She was always so pliable in his hands. He really liked that. He pushed her to the bed and she managed to undress him. Voldemort entered her and groaned at the familiar pleasure. He was very content with this arrangement.
They lay in peace for some time before Hermione got up to go to the bathroom. He watched her move. She was so graceful, so beautiful. He didn't understand why she felt threatened by other women. Hermione was perfect. No others could compare to her. Surely she knew that? He frowned. He'd never told her that…so she probably didn't. He knew how wonderful he was; why didn't she understand the same thing? He sat up in the bed and mumbled a quick spell to illuminate the room in candles. Hermione returned and looked visibly confused, "Voldemort?"
"Hermione," he stood and moved to her, "You are so perfect. No other woman on this planet, be she from the past, present, or future, could ever compare to you."
The young woman smiled and leaned up to kiss him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapping around her. He felt so good. It was nice to know that she was the only one for him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Hermione returned the passion in his kiss. He was very difficult to live with, but this was a surprising turn of events and she wanted to enjoy it.
He put her in the bed, admiring her body. "I've never seen such a perfect body," he leaned forward and they kissed again, Hermione moaning into his mouth. He'd never kissed her like this before, and she was enjoying it.
When he pulled away for air she looked up at him. He seemed different. "Voldemort?"
He rolled off of her and brought the blankets up around them, "What?"
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That kiss," she turned to face him, "you've never kissed me like that."
Voldemort frowned in confusion, "Did you not like it?"
"I did like it," she caressed his cheek, "but it…it wasn't our usual kiss, Voldemort. And you do nothing without purpose."
"I just wanted to show you how much I'm attracted to you," he shrugged.
"I guess…I've never expressed to you before just how much I want you or your body. That you're mine, you know. But…well…I wanted you to know that too." Hermione smiled and kissed him.
"I love you," she whispered, deepening the kiss. "So much Voldemort," she rolled on top of him, "I don't think you understand how much," the kiss grew even deeper as her hands moved over his body. Hermione could feel this sudden urge to give him as much passion and love as was possible. "I love you," she repeated, reaching down to stroke him as her mouth moved over his neck, making Voldemort groan.
If Voldemort could guess what was going on, he'd say it was making love. At least, on her end. It was in her eyes. Hermione was looking at him in a way that he'd never seen her look at anyone. Not even him; at least before now. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of his lover's mouth and hands all over his body.
When she finally lowered herself onto his penis Voldemort was gasping. She was a vixen tonight, and he didn't understand why. He groaned and thrust his hips up into her, making Hermione fall forward and kiss him again. They kissed madly before he climaxed inside of her, Hermione crying out his name as she came as well. "I love you," she whispered, lifting her hips so that he'd fall out of her before closing her eyes and resting her head on his chest.
Voldemort wrapped his arms around her. He felt…he felt. He didn't understand feelings at all. "Something's wrong."
"You seemed to enjoy it," she lifted her head.
"No, I…I feel…something."
Hermione tilted her head, "What do you mean? Sick? Hurt?"
"No…it….it feels good. Like I felt when we found immortality."
Hermione ran her hand over his cheek, "I love you."
Voldemort felt his heart begin to speed up. But it felt different than when it would when they had sex or he would work out. This was…was different. "I feel it again."
"I think you're responding to me telling you those three words. Maybe you're learning how to feel them."
"Maybe," he frowned in thought and she kissed him again, "What?"
"Don't think, just feel. Enjoy this, don't ruin it by thinking."
"Says the know-it-all," he smirked.
"Further reason to trust me," she smiled, kissing him again. He let her lead their kiss and soon she ended it, snuggling against him again and closing her eyes in contentment. Voldemort fell asleep feeling very perplexed.
The next morning he woke to his lover snuggled against him. He sat up and Hermione woke, "Wha-"
"Sorry, I need to pee," he got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom. Hermione watched him go. He didn't understand feelings, generally. She wondered if he was starting to love her. Or did he already love her and was starting to recognize it? She didn't know. He was good with emotions drawn from bad things; but he was still struggling with emotions that came from good things. Hermione sighed and got up to get her robe. She was hungry. "No sex?" Voldemort was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, his eyes belying his displeasure with her not being there to have sex.
"I'm rather hungry," she moved to him and kissed him, "Aren't you hungry?"
"I could eat," he mumbled, sliding his hands into her robe. She smiled as he removed the robe and picked her up, "After I have you."
They had two climaxes before he finally collapsed into the bed next to her. Hermione smiled. He looked happy. "Do you think that woman will be a threat to us?"
"No," he shook his head, "You know enough magic to defend yourself, and if anything happened to you I would murder her and her entire family. I'm sure the Minister knows that."
Hermione had to agree with that; the Minister was not an idiot. He knew Voldemort's power. She looked at him before kissing his cheek, "I want breakfast. Do you want anything in particular?"
"To eat off your body?"
She rolled her eyes; they'd actually done that a few times. Voldemort had enjoyed it, she'd tolerated it. Pleasing him was worthwhile though. If she made him happy sexually, he'd do the romantic and 'sappy' (as he called it) things that she wanted. "Not today."
"Omelet then," he answered, letting her get up. He admired her body as she put some clothes on and walked to the doorway, "Do you regret it?"
"Regret what?" She turned, confused.
"Coming away with me."
"Never," she answered, smiling before she walked downstairs.
Voldemort wondered about her answer as he slid into his pajamas and walked downstairs. She wouldn't lie to him about that, would she? "Did you lie when you answered that question?"
"Why would I?" Hermione's attention shifted from him to the stove as she slid the first omelet onto a plate and poured in the second. "I've never lied to you."
He poured coffee into two cups, "You seemed….the answer to my question seemed forced."
"I guess I think about how my life could be different sometimes. But I don't actually want it to be different. I love you, and whether you feel that way for me or not I'm not going anywhere," she kissed his cheek as she placed his plate in front of him, "now shut up and eat." He obeyed, but gave her a quizzical look as he did. Hermione ate breakfast, wondering silently why he would ask her that question now after so much time had passed.
Voldemort was walking through the wizarding center to pick up a book when he saw Antonia. He knew she'd find him eventually. "I presume you want something?"
"Why are you with her? She doesn't seek what you do."
"What I sought, I found. Thanks to her. And besides, I enjoy her company. Not that it's any of your business."
"I could be a better partner to you."
"Impossible," he said as he walked on toward the store. He picked up his order and paid for it before leaving, walking toward a store frequented by witches. He wanted to get something for Hermione.
Antonia followed him in, "I don't get your devotion to her. Surely she's with you to get something."
"As opposed to what you would be like?" He smirked, "Hardly. Hermione is a good person. Far better than anyone else I have ever met. And regardless, you do not share her beauty or her goodness." Voldemort picked up the perfume and smelled it. Hermione would like this, he was sure of it. He paid for it and turned to her, "Stay away from Hermione, and stay away from me. I have a very quick temper and you will suffer." He left and Disapparated, returning to his home.
Hermione was in the library reading a book. She had tried working, but Voldemort was rather needy. She knew he preferred her being at home, and surprisingly she did too. The long days they could spend in bed were nice to have, and he was certainly not boring to be around. She heard him return and waited for him to enter the library.
Voldemort leaned against the doorway and watched her for several moments before walking in and leaning down to kiss her, "Miss me?"
"Always," she smiled, lifting her legs so he could sit on the sofa. He pulled them back into his lap, "Did you pick up the book?"
"Yep," he nodded, "I warned that woman to stay away from us. She followed me, trying to say she was better. As if that were possible," he slid his hand over her thigh, "You're beautiful."
"I know, you told me that."
"I intend to tell you that more often." He leaned in and kissed her and Hermione returned it, moaning in pleasure as his tongue rubbed against her mouth. When their clothes came off and he entered her she purred in pleasure and arched her back, Voldemort growling into her mouth as he thrust. She felt so wonderful against him. This was the most perfect thing he'd ever felt. And he felt it every time he was with her. He collapsed on top of her and gently caressed her face, "Happy?"
"Very," she smiled, making him shift to lay against her, "you always make me feel good."
He smiled and kissed her gently before pulling back to whisper, "My Hermione. My sweet little Hermione," he caressed her thigh and she moved closer to him, kissing him again.
Voldemort returned the kiss. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her for some reason. They had sex again before he scooped her up and they went upstairs to the bedroom. He wanted more room. She groaned into his mouth as he laid her in the bed. His Hermione. No one else could ever have her. And anyone that tried to have her would be murdered in the most painful ways he could think of. Voldemort lowered himself and gave her oral, Hermione moaning as he took care of her. He was so good at everything they did in the bedroom.
Voldemort finally leaned up and she ran her hands over his cheeks as he leaned down to whisper, "I love you."
Hermione's eyes bulged and Voldemort frowned. "V-Voldemort," she said, "D-do you…did you…"
"I…" he pulled back and looked away, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I just…I…"
Hermione sat up and caressed his cheek, "Did you mean it?"
He looked at her. The woman who'd given him everything she could. Her body, her mind, her heart…she'd given up her future, her life, for him. The most beautiful woman in the world was in his bed, and had been for a very long time now. Longer than any other woman ever had. And she knew the most about him. But that reasoning went out the window as he gazed at her. He just…he yearned for her. Aside from immortality, he'd never wanted anything like he wanted her. He craved the passion she reserved only for him, and the depravity that she enjoyed engaging in only for him. And he could feel emotions pulling him over; for the first time in his life, he not only felt but understood love. He'd never understood how Potter could be protected from him with something as foolish as love. But it didn't feel foolish right now. Voldemort leaned in and kissed her, "I love you," he said.
Hermione pulled him to her in a hungry kiss. Voldemort could feel her joy as they made love and he realized that no matter the many things he'd given her, no matter the money he'd ever spent on her, those three words filled her with a joy he'd never been able to give her before that moment. And he couldn't help but feel proud of himself for finally being able to give her what she'd wanted for such a long time.
When they finally collapsed, Hermione nuzzled close to him, "I love you too," she whispered with a smile on her face.
"I…I can feel it, now."
"I'm glad," she sighed, content. This was what she'd wanted, and she was thrilled. She finally looked up at him, "How does it feel to say it?"
"Not as good as being able to make you so happy," he responded. "You look so thrilled."
"Part of me thought you might never say it or feel it," she said, running her hand through his hair. "That potion was worth everything you paid and more."
"I think so too," he smiled. Hermione leaned in and they kissed again, this one soft and sweet. "I'm never letting anyone else ever get to have you like I do."
"I think that sounds great," she shifted to lie next to him and they snuggled together before taking a nap.
A/N- And so it ends. I couldn't let Hermione not be loved by Voldemort. I can't be cruel to her like that. It's bad enough she's stuck with Ron in the canon. I had to save her from that. Thanks for reading!