Hello all!
This is a snippet of what happened after "Truth or Dare with the dark side". If you haven't read that prior to this, you may want to. This fic will not make much sense else wise. The original HP story belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling. I am simply a fan who loved her work so much, she had to apply her own twist to it. I make nothing from these fics and own nothing. Enjoy! X
"Why?" She whispered as she locked eyes with his scarlet gaze.
"I … I gave you everything. I literally gave you the world. Why?" She pleaded.
He shook his head and looked just over her shoulder. He could not bring himself to look in to those heterochromia eyes. Once both a startling killing curse green, now one mirrored his own.
"I am her champion Persephone, you are aware of this. I am here to command balance". His voice lacked the usual alluring quality he applied to it just for her. He knew deep down that what he was doing was unjust, but it must be done. It had been a decade since the eventful weekend in which they were locked in the Black ancestral home and in that time, she had literally given him the world. He would acknowledge that. Although he had the confidence he would have won the war without her efforts, her support had made it easier.
"SHE CONTROLS YOU!" She shouted, visibly shaking with anger.
"Tut tut" He mocked, his face contorting spitefully. "Like he controls you?"
"I am Death's mistress. No one, not even Death nor you, can control me" She spat back. She gathered herself together, her previous emotion being over-written with anger.
He laughed spitefully at her, finally looking in her eyes. The proof of her gift to him. Her mismatched eyes, one now as shockingly scarlet as his own. A side effect of her combining her soul properly with his Horcrux, allowing him immortality.
"Really now?" He drawled. "So why is it you spend more time with him than at home? Why is it that when I return home you are never here? Why is it that whenever I call for you through our bond I find it closed off? WHY?" He shouted, losing his ingrained composure. He was livid, to his very core. He could feel his magic stabbing at a way to lash out and demand retribution on those who have angered him so.
A staggered breath left her. "I miss the days when you were Marvolo" She whispered, lost in her memories. "You were balance personified once Tom was absorbed. Even though it wounded me to lose him, I knew that the combination of his personality with Voldemort's would be my stability. Tom's wit and intelligence, his acceptance of emotions, along with Voldemort's savagery created Marvolo. A Dark Lord who could control the nation. One I happily served". She let out an ironic laugh. How immature she had been. She acknowledged years ago that regardless of their love for each other, Tom would always prioritise himself and she respected that once. She naively assumed that once their empire was complete and she proved that she could rule as he did, that finally he would truly accept her as his equal. 'How pitiful' she thought to herself in disgust. She could not place all the blame on him, she knew she had changed too. Maybe she had lost herself in Death's schemes but just like her partner's duty, this was hers. "You're no longer him" She stated, sure of herself.
Voldemort assessed the witch in front of him from where he sat behind his desk. She looked as beautiful as ever, the decade since they partnered had only matured her beauty more. He knew she was hurt that he would go to such lengths. He nodded agreeing with her statement. "I cannot afford such weakness. It is my birth right and duty to ensure we have magical balance. You are disrupting that balance. Gallivanting around with the one that controls you, frolicking in magics so forbidden that no scripture exists of their nature. You have upset my carefully constructed balance". He hissed in the language only they could understand. His face was contorted in the evil expression she had not been subjected to since before they partnered.
Not one to back down, Persephone gathered herself. The temperature of the room dropping as she did so. For far too long now, she had played subservient. Far too long had she allowed him to rule. Far too long had she neglected to show the true power she held. "Be careful what you say Voldemort. I owe you no loyalty". Her voice once again the husky tenor that he had the pleasure of hearing when he first was introduced to the Mistress of Death. "Remember who gave you the power to be where you are now. It was I that bowed, it was I that planted the seeds to give you greatness, it was I that made you the immortal Dark Lord! And this is how you repay me!" Persephone screamed, throwing the underwear she had found in his office at him.
Voldemort incinerated the garment with a wave of his hand. He wanted to punish her, to torture her, make the bitch scream. How dare she think she can speak to him in such a manner. The Black family madness had clearly begun to take its toll on her if she thought she could question him in such a manner. "For your years of loyalty, I will give you one chance to leave my presence with your mentality intact. I am a merciful Lord after all".
Persephone looked at him. Really looked at him. Not an ounce of guilt was on his face, he was not in the slightest sorry about what he had done. Just a year before, at the same desk sat Marvolo. Without a doubt one of the greatest wizards to live. He dabbled in both the dark and light arts, structured the wizarding society in such a way that nobility flourished. Their world was stronger. Mudbloods were removed from their muggle homes, their parents obliviated and they were placed in magical homes. Everybody was united and worked towards bettering the magical world. Then Marvolo participated in a ritual in which would give him characteristics of other races whilst keeping his magic intact. The agility of a vampire, the strength of a werewolf and the gift of premonition.
She knew it was a terrible idea. There were repercussions to every ritual. But never did she think that the repercussions would be that the powers of Cassandra would be bestowed upon a mortal witch. A bitch of a witch who Voldemort decided must live in their manor for him to control. The way she flounced around the corridors with that piece of material she called clothing draped across her body made Persephone furious. She expressed her dislike to Marvolo, but he waved it off as petty jealousy. He believed magic had bestowed him with this gift. The witch was his to own, nothing more. But over time Marvolo began to change. He stopped caressing her the way he once did, slowly he began to change the way he spoke to her. No longer secrets shared in parseltongue. Persephone knew it was that bitch whispering in his ear. Leading him into outcomes which were impacting their relationship. But Marvolo was so absorbed in the powers being a gift from lady magic, that he never realised the obvious manipulation. His mind was being poisoned against her and he was Voldemort once more.
So now here she stood. In front of the Dark Lord, the ashes of his infidelity still on his desk and no remorse on his face. She knew he thought she was weak and that was the last straw for her to be ready to start her next adventure. "Maybe one day you will realise what you have lost, but now this is where we part ways" As much as it pained her to say it, Persephone knew she was only losing herself by supporting this sham of a relationship. Voldemort's attention was now solely focused on her. He felt the change in static in the room and knew who was about to arrive.
"Mistress" Death purred, sensually kissing Persephone's wrist. Death was furious with the pathetic being that his mistress once thought of as an acceptable suitor. It took all his self-control to not banish Voldemort to the pits of hell. Where he would be surrounded by such demonic evilness, it would terrify even him.
"Persephone" Voldemort said in warning, brandishing his wand.
Persephone looked up at him and her face was stone. Not a single emotion could be read. She walked over to Voldemort and placed her hand on his cheek. He flinched at her contact and that caused a slither of heartbreak to enter her gaze. "You were my first, my everything. My heart and soul. I gave you all I could give, and you have betrayed me the worst. Our paths end here". Persephone watched as his cold gaze warmed slightly at her words, before he shook his head to wave off the unwanted emotion.
Voldemort's gaze was on her as she walked back over to Death. He despised that deity. He saw Persephone take off her eternity ring and whisper something to Death. The mockingly smug look the deity gave him spelled trouble. He soon found he could not move, he could only watch in horror as Death kissed Persephone. His horror turned into confusion when he realised Death was sucking, not kissing. Then the pain hit. Voldemort grit his teeth and gathered his magic. Whatever this pain was he would not stand for it. Before he could retaliate, the pain stopped, and time seemed to freeze as he realised what Death was doing.
Persephone turned to face him, her eyes once again their mesmerising killing curse green. He watched in trepidation as Death passed his soul from one hand to the other, a smirk upon the deity's face. A sharp look from his Mistress caused Death to stop goading the Dark Lord and he went to work at placing the soul into the eternity ring that was once upon his Mistress's finger.
"Your Horcrux" Was all Persephone said before returning to Death's side and vanishing from Voldemort's chambers. The Dark Lord could do nothing but hold the ring and wonder how it had came to this. Perhaps Persephone was correct. This was the end of their paths. For now. As he was Lord Voldemort, and no one. Not even the Mistress of Death escaped him. But like the powers of Cassandra informed him… He was not supposed to be chained down by a bride like a standard mortal. He was above that.
"Are you ready to complete the bonding Mistress?" Death purred as he stalked towards Persephone. She lay bare on the shadows he had created for her. Draped in the inky darkness of Death. "You have known since a babe that you belong to me, as I belong to you. Are you truly ready Mistress?" Death asked as his cloak dematerialised and he leaned over her aroused form.
"I am" She whispered, grabbing onto Deaths collars and pulling him down so she lay on top.
Death let out a triumphant laugh that sent tendrils of fear throughout the realms. He always wins.
