AN: The characters sort of ran away with me on this one. I made up the song Siren's Kiss but everything else belongs to JK Rowling.

Thank you, Kim for going through this.

Winter Frost

Get down, get undressed
Get pretty but you and me,
We got the kingdom, we got the key
We got the empire, now as then,
We don't doubt, we don't take direction,
Lucretia, my reflection, dance the ghost with me

Sisters of Mercy: Lucretia, My Reflection

Dance The Ghost

Imagining the sounds of sleazy jazz, Hermione circled her hips as she slowly loosened each piece of emerald satin ribbon that held her bodice together, threading each through her fingers and allowing him to focus on her little hands. He tilted his head to the side as she began singing. Her sweet husky tones sent zings of electricity to his groin. Something that Bellatrix had failed to do lately. Then she bent her leg on the edge of the bed, her sheer silk stocking trapped foot felt delightfully sinful against his thigh.

Hermione raised her body up and used a fingernail to tilt his chin up making sure of eye contact: "Do your best, mister," she purred, "treat me like a queen, I'll show ya sights you only dreamed you seen;" slowly, she slowly rolled down the silk stocking her smooth limb. "Show me life, show me passion, in a flashin'; I'm," she breathed in heavily as she leaned closer to stroke his jaw, "baitin you, hookin' you, reeling you in!" The Dark Lord seemed entranced by her choice of song: "'Coz Mister," her sultry voice sent shivers down his spine! Until now he was not aware he could still form goose-bumps on his watery skin: "I'm your siren."

"Don't stop," he whispered.

Chuckling throatily, Hermione smirked as she moved slowly away from his body: "'Coz of this, you can't resist, my arms, my lovin' calms;" she used the tip of her fingernail to firmly draw a line down his throat: "Stay."

Everything about this appealed to him, it spoke of dark smoky speakeasies in Prohibition America. "I'm baitin' you, Hookin' you, Reelin' you In," she grabbed hold of his robe and pulled him forward as she stepped back. 'Coz Mister," the anticipation was rampant for lustful kissing but with a wink of her playful eyes, Hermione raised her foot and gently kicked him back on the mattress, not noticing how his eyes hooded over her lengthening limb: "I'm your siren!"

This was his favourite part of the song: Well, hello my dear, he thought. I wonder if any of your ingrate Gryffindors knew you could move as sinuously as a snake? He paid more attention to her now.

"Draggin yah, Dunkin yah, Drownin' yah, In," her hips swayed with each of the D words to emphasise the imaginary beat of the saxophone. "'Coz Mister: I'm your siren," she had turned her back on the Lord and twisted her head around with a come-hither warmth to her lusting gaze: "Draggin yah," she twirled around tapping her feet now to the beat: "Dunkin yah," dragging her arms high above her, head tossing her head back in the invisible spotlight freeing it from the pins so it could gently sway with her hips, "Drownin' yah," her hips swayed dangerously low to the ground. "In," her smoky cadence dragged out the word, he could see her breathing heavily. Each breath emphasised her chest. "Coz Mister," she lowered her head to fully face him surprised at how enchanted he seemed by her impromptu performance of this song she'd only heard once through Molly's radio: "I'm your siren."

"That, you most certainly are, Miss Granger, continue, please!" he murmured.

With expert ease, Hermione pirouetted around in a circle and allowed the ringing silence to trick him into thinking the song was over and watched as he was about to say something: "Been told," she sang low, "There's only one-way outta This," she slunk her way closer to The Dark Lord, swaying her hips again as she ran her emerald green nails down her silk emerald down her corset stopping at the suspenders. "And mister," she knelt one knee one side of him, "that's your siren's kiss," she placed her other knee the other side of him trapping him into her embrace. His eyes were level with her breasts that seemed to swell with each breath in. "Been told," fingernails drew circles around his cheeks. "There's only one way outta this," she lowered her head. "And mister," her lips now a breath away from his. "That's your sirens…"

Hermione gulped as she knew this was the point of no return, with her hand placed on his heart she lowered herself onto his lap. Her fingers stroking his jawline.

"Kiss," he finished for her, she gulped down her fears as her lips were pulsing with want for his kiss.

"Yes," she whispered.

"I think we should kiss now," Lord Voldemort murmured, her lips gingerly touched his. Finally aware that she was actively seeking sexual congress with the man who had been responsible for orphaning her friend and brother. "Please try not to think of Potter it can do things to one's libido when a woman's mind is on another man whilst entertaining one, I can assure you."

To her credit, Hermione barely blushed at being caught out: "I am worried for him though."

"I have broadcast it amongst my followers that he is not to be harmed whilst you are my guest at Malfoy Manor. Whatever he is doing, he shall not succeed anyhow." He leaned up and left a trail of kisses down her throat, then worked his way to her jaw before nibbling her ear, "perhaps you should just worry about yourself," the wizard's lips moved as he spoke against her skin causing spikes of lust to cascade down her back, weakening her legs and curling her toes. "You have," kiss, "the most," kiss, "delicious," kiss, kiss, "flesh," kiss, kiss, kiss, then he had reached her breasts, one cupped in his hand whilst the other's nipple stood out begging to be licked and suckled. "Do you want me to finish this?"

"Yes," she hissed.

"Look at your lovely little breasts begging to be suckled," he curled his tongue around the teat before dragging it in his mouth and sucking it until she ached for something more. With that, he moved closer, ever so close, and began sucking in her breast, hollowing out his cheeks soaking her glands with his spit. "How gorgeous, how delightfully beautiful," he said as he let it go with a pop, such a satisfying sound.

"Wow," she gasped as she gulped down the moisture that had gathered in her throat, she bent her head down so her hair was like a curtain concealing them, hands were travelling down to his hips where his robe had gathered, "time," she kissed his forehead, "to," she licked down his cheek towards his jaw where he tilted his head up to catch her willing and pouting lips. Their hungry kisses were not entirely pretending as she lifted his robe, he scrambled with her fingers to gain nakedness as soon as possible so that skin could rub against the skin. Merlin, Morgana and Nimue, he could not wait to get inside and to have their sweat mingle. "Now," she gasped, "lie on your back and allow me, Master."

"Oh Voldemort, I insist," the man beneath her grinned as he lay back with his hands cradling his head and his arms winged out behind him giving her the semblance that he allowed her control, "Hermione!"

The sweat poured down her back as she widened her legs and sank down on his delicious extremely erect member, the witch was careful as she swallowed him inch by inch before she took all she could. The feel of his balls only excited her even further.

What was wrong with her? She was supposed to like nice boys like Ron not perverted Dark Lord's like Voldemort. However, Ron never gave her half the feelings of control with her sexuality like Voldemort had. Hell, Ron wouldn't even consider experimenting, which was normal. She'd spoken to Ginny and she said her, and Harry had discovered new things about themselves that neither suspected before. Wasn't it supposed to be like that with Ron? Wasn't she supposed to feel as if every time was the first time?

"What exactly do you wish from me, Master?"

"To move faster so that I can hear the slapping echo around the room. So I can swallow your groans as I kiss your delicious little mouth," he stroked up her thighs causing them to quiver, "for you not to think about how shockingly simple that redhead is compared to you. Remember, Hermione, I am a Master Legilimens. Your thoughts betray you!"

"I am sorry, Master, but so far you are better than Ron though it sort of saddens me to say!"

She yelped and winced at the same time as fingernails dug into her thighs and she stared down to see him smirk, "Move! Fast!"

Faster, she thought as she levered herself up only to push down again, the friction was incredible inside her and she found herself wanting to move as fast as she possibly could. The faster she went, the wetter she became the more the sounds of rough sex could be heard echoing around the room.

His hands slipped further up her thighs towards her hips where he began to control her rhythm setting upon her a gruelling pace that had sweat pour down her face and dripping down her neck, Voldemort sat back up and licked up her neck and suckled her ear causing her to gasp again. With each manoeuvre she was being thrust into a whole new dimension of lovemaking she did not think possible. The headboard rocked against the wall; the springs of the bed creaked beneath their vigorous movements.

"Wow," she said throatily as his fingers danced around her mons, stroking and pinching her clit hard at times, soft at others. "This is amazing!"

"I had a feeling you would find agreement with me," he said as his eyes flashed. Hermione deluded herself into thinking she had felt his hair as she twisted her hands around his bald head.

He flipped them over so that he was on top and she was gazing up at him, "For a monster you certainly have charisma and you possess a mesmeric quality that is irresistible," she sighed, "So complicated."

"Oh yes, such a complication," he said.

Voldemort gazed deeply into her eyes as he lowered himself into her allowing her to take in the new angle before he thrust in and out, fitting more of himself into her, the sound of sex once again resounded around the room. The thunk of the headboard, the rattle of the paintings, the way the sheets stuck to their increasingly sweating bodies. Hermione had never felt more confused and fulfilled in her entire life.

Hands were behind her head and entwined deeply with his so that no one could tell the difference, their nails dug into the soft flesh between the knuckles. Half-moon imprints painted crimson would be there for hours after. Their skin rubbing against each other's was amazing to feel. Like ordinary snakes, he was not slippery. By his clever fingers, she managed to crest the wave of an orgasm but now having a few minor ones as he continued in earnest from his hard brutal pace.

Hermione could barely keep up as she pounded into the mattress with all the grace and aplomb of a lion with a lioness. The soft mattress had almost swallowed her whole allowing the saying to be true in her case.

"Not being able to keep up!" she exclaimed.

That just increased his pace, blood rushed down both their cores where she arched back and thrust up to gain as much friction as she possibly could. Then she closed her eyes and screamed out his name as her come had poured out of her soaking his penis and balls as he entered into her system.

"Quo tincta!" he whispered after he shot his load deeply into her. Pushing until she was flooded with his seed.

Unable to take it anymore Voldemort collapsed on top of her to catch his breath, he sniffed in the scent of her sweat-soaked hair, "I had to wait 60 years but finally, I met my Armontentia – and I'm not going to let her go," he said rather pleased with himself.

"Wait that wasn't the deal!"

"When you find out the spell I whispered, then tell me if it was a good idea to go traipsing around the countryside."

She had forced herself to wrap her arms around him and her legs entwined with his. He was now lying on his side and brought her closer to him to keep her within his possession he'd hoarded as a child like he used to do. They almost fell asleep, but the door was being knocked from the other side.

"My Lord," a gruff voice sounded from behind.

"I am not to be disturbed!"

"But my Lord, we think we have some idea where the Potter kid is."

"Do not attempt anything."

"Don't hurt him," Hermione said worried he would break his promise to her. "Please?"

He glanced down at her wide, frightened eyes, her kiss swollen lips and her inner thighs soaked in his come, "I promise I won't," he said. "Starting now!"

"Hey!" she stood up angrily yelling, "what do you mean by that? What have you done? Answer me, damnit!"

"I owe no such thing to you, my dear," he turned around, the tick of his jaw meant he was keeping his fury tucked away by his stern voice, "however, as I promised no harm shall befall from my hands whilst you are here, now as I have to go – is there anything else?"

"No," she whispered. "Thank you for reminding me of the callous monster you are."

"You had best get used to it then, Little Dove, because I am going to consume you whole. You will forget every little bit you ever thought you knew. I will open up knowledge and power – because knowledge is power right, plus you've already slept with me. Deal with that how you like."

Hermione felt cold and ashamed, "I must have been under the imperius."

"Oh no, you do not get to play that trick on me, my Dove, you were open-minded and open to everything else I was prepared to offer you. Now, you best rest. Don't worry, no harm or foul shall happen to you on this – or any other night – I promise you that. Neither," he said in a higher more authoritative tone, "will your friend Mr Potter. Although," he said as he redressed himself and went back to the door, "you do realise I own you now. Lock," he stepped closer to her making her step back, "stock," he had decreased the distance between them whilst Hermione was trapped against the wall, "and barrel!"

He picked her chin up and gazed down at her still swollen lips, "No-one owns me."

He tilted his head to the side as if considering her statement, "No-one? Really? I just spilt my seed inside you, dwell on that Little Dove!" he pushed her face forward and met her lips. "Admit it, Dove, you like to be owned."

With that, he slammed the door shut.

Their lovemaking played like a vision in her brain, it was a ghost of dance now.

She paced the carpets with worry etched into the lines of her face, making her appear older than her nineteen years.

It was then Narcissa swept into the room and glanced at the lonely, frightened witch and sighed, carefully she pulled Hermione in a slow hug of comfort and friendship, "I will not allow you to be turned into Bellatrix Mark 2," she said fiercely. "Come on, come to our room and let's have a bath."

"Together?"

"Why not?" she shrugged, "I take one end of the bath and you the other, we can have wine and chocolate…"

"On top of the crazy things I've done today this has to be the most normal suggestion I've heard."

If Hermione knew what she was going to get up to in that bath she would have refused.

AN: Yup this is smut all the way baby! lol!