Author's Note: Hey, so this is actually the very first Fanfiction I've ever written so try not to hate on me too much... I really have no idea what I'm doing. Anyways, I feel like I should put up warnings but I don't know how to do that quite yet so I decided to add some here instead... This is rated M because of the content. There will be in depth descriptions of physical, verbal, and emotional abuse during this story. There will be a rape scene or an almost rape, I'm not sure yet, also for the record I do not condone rape or abuse of any kind-child of not. There will also obviously be sexual themes (it's a romance!) and sexual scenes. Oh! This is a Tomarry or a Tom/(fem)Harry fanfic. I actually only really started writing this because I'm waiting on all my stories to update :p
Right well, I think that's everything... hope you enjoy! Um, leave comments so I know if it sucks or not... seriously, I'm currently wondering why I'm even posting. Ugh. (`-_-)/
Chapter One
Lyra stretches out her body with a groan, while working in the garden is one of her favourite chores it is still exhausting. Looking around she realizes she's done with the yard and can run off to the park or anywhere really to avoid her… adoring family, she thought with sarcasm. With that plan in mind she purposefully scans the area trying to find any order members around or at least sense them with her magic. Sighing in relief she makes haste towards the park, she has all night to herself. Her Aunt, Uncle, and their little Dudders are going out to eat for a company thing or something. Lyra wasn't sure she stopped listening once her Aunt Petunia told her that they'll be gone for the evening once Vernon gets back and changes. Then they'll leave sometime around 6:00 pm to be at the company dinner on time if not a bit early. Like the good, upstanding, normal people they are. Snorting softly she glances around she realizes that she has walked quite a bit past the park, shrugging her shoulders she heads into the forest a little deeper before stopping at a stream. Glancing up to check the time she notes that it is around 4:00 pm now. That gives her another hour or so before she has to head back, lest she be locked out for the entirety of the evening. Weighing her options she decides to travel up the stream to try to find a pond or a lake or the source. After 3.2 kilometers she finally found the lake. Peering around she realizes this would be a nice place to swim and just cool off or relax, with that thought running through her mind she notices how sweaty she is after working in the hot sun all day, also noting how her to loose clothes that belong to her obese cousin, Duddly, stick to her awkwardly. Well, she thought, I can always just wandlessly open the door… and with that she made a decision. Kicking off her shoes and socks she works to undo the string which is literally the only thing keeping the ridiculously large trousers on her person. Once that is done she just lets the pants fall as she grabs either side of the shirt and gingerly lifts it over her head, wincing slightly thanks to the bruises she got from yesterday's beating before letting that fall to the ground as well. Pausing briefly to decide whether or not she wants to take off her knickers and bra… sighing she reaches around to undo the bra and places it on the shirt before ridding herself of her panties. Now nude she walks closer to the lake before dipping a toe in, the water is surprisingly warm. Guess that strikes the cool down part of it, she thinks wryly to herself as she slips into the water groaning softly. She hasn't had a bath since she left Hogwarts and those quick showers she takes at the Dursley's isn't quiet the same as having a warm soak does on a bruised. Reaching up she takes the hair tie out of her hair and shakes her head a bit to loosen the bun she put it in earlier. Floating on her back she quickly wets her hair before righting herself. Another fifteen blissful minutes pass before she regrettably notes that she should get out. Wading over to the edge of the lake, she heaves herself up before quickly bending down and rinsing her knees and hands in the water. Standing up once more she tosses her hair to the side and squeezing out the excess water from her long hair. Glancing around her emerald green gaze stopped on a snake she didn't notice before. Dropping her hair she tentatively took a few steps towards the snake, "Hello" she hisses. The snake drew back in surprise before slowing, unsure as it is, slithering forward, "Greetings speaker," he hisses back. How Lyra knew it's male, she didn't know but she's certain it is. Walking forward until she reaches the snake she crouches down and begins stroking his scales. Smiling softly at a hiss of pleasure she inquires, "Do you have a name perchance?"The snake gives her a long questioning look, "yes, my name is Shesha.""Nice to meet you, Shesha. I'm Lyra." She gives him once last good stroke before standing up with a shiver, waving her hand she dries her body instantly before walking back towards her clothes. She doesn't notice Shesha looking at the bruises marring her back and along her sides and legs and arms, all purple and blotchy or yellowed with healing. Lyra has since stopped looking in the mirror after her own reflection… she hates seeing herself so weak and bruised. Hates the overwhelming feelings that settle on her. Hates Vernon, Duddly, and Petunia. Hates that Dumbledore has trapped her there in that Merlin forsaken house. Most of all though, she hates herself. Pulling herself away from those self-deprecating thoughts she puts on her intimates, grabs the overly large shirt and throws it on before grabbing the too large pants, "Why are there bruises all over you?" Pausing briefly before hiking up the pants and tying her string real tight, she weighs her options. I could avoid the question and try to deflect… or I could just tell him the truth because he's a snake and no one will ever know anyways. Coming to a decision she quickly hisses out, "Because my… relatives..." She spits the word out like a disease, "think they can beat the magic out of me…" Oh, she remembers every beating, every time she bled… in fact, Lyra is convinced that the only reason she doesn't have any scars is because her magic heals her every night leaving bruises in its place for the really bad injuries. In fact, she's certain that if she were a normal child she would have died when she was five. Clearing her throat softly she refocuses her gaze and mind on the snake, "obviously that wouldn't work but that's not really why they do it… they just hate me..." she trails off as she hears a low hiss promising pain and lowers herself to the ground, sitting cross legged before the snake. "Why are you so skinny?" He inquired thinly, like he was trying not to be angry, Lyra thought it quite sweet. Yet, at the same time, all of this so very sad. Nobody in the magical world ever notices how skinny she is or how bruised she is. Not even the school mediwitch notices… or maybe they just don't give a damn? Or maybe, she thinks to herself bitterly, they think they don't have to worry about me because Albus to many bloody names Dumbledore told them I was happy and content and in a loving home? "Because they starve me… I'm unwanted so any expense they have to make to house me is inconceivable." Since Shesha is a snake it's okay to complain, confide, or tell him the truth. She feels herself relax for the first time in a really long time. Actually, Lyra thinks, this is probably the first time I've ever been able to or allowed to vent about them, about anything really.
Voldemort peers up at the tiny girl in front of him that he's been trying to end since before she was even born and he can't help but wonder for the millionth time why he ever thought she was a threat as a new born. These past few months since he regained his body he has been stuck looking back at his actions and wondering what he was even thinking. He'd never admit it out loud but he obviously had lost his mind… what he couldn't figure out is why. Everything was going fine before he heard that thrice damned prophecy, in fact, before he heard it he didn't even believe in Divination. So why would he ever act on it to begin with? Pushing his thoughts away he set his gaze on the quiet girl in front of him, she was humming a sad sort of tune whilst stroking his animagus form, a black mamba snake, appearing to be in deep thought. Hissing to attract her attention, he thinks back to what the last thing said was, "Why do you stay then?" She smiles a little at him, but it isn't a happy smile, no this one is filled with pain, anger, and regret. "I've tried to… when I was little… I ran away. I was maybe five and it was my birthday, but the Dursley's didn't care. My aunt, Petunia, she woke me up a 5:30 am like she does every morning so I could get up and start preparing breakfast for her whale of a husband and son..." Her soft voice trailing off as she, most likely, got caught up in the memory. Voldemort couldn't help but feel anger at how she was—is being treated, and if he is remembering correctly, according to Severus she lives with her muggle family and they adore her and she is supposedly a spoiled little princess that they pamper and do everything for. Obviously, the only part of that little story that is true is that she lives with those filthy muggles—and no, he doesn't hate all muggles, that would be redundant. How did he miss this? How did Severus, growing up the way he did, miss the abuse she quite obviously lives with? Focusing on her again she smiles ruefully at him, "anyways, I messed up on the toast that day… I burnt one piece… the eggs, sausage, bacon, and 4 slices of toast were done perfectly but because of I burn I received whilst cooking the bacon I burnt the last slice of toast a bit… When she realized I burnt a slice of bread she grabbed a pan and hit me in the side of the head with it. I was so small, what with being five and not weighing anything because of how little they feed me, that I flew into the wall and slid down. I remember her screaming at me, I don't know what about my head throbbed and my vision faded… I remember thinking, praying that this was it. That I'd finally die and be done with them… but then I woke up in my dark little cupboard. And even though I hadn't cried since I was two I bawled. It was so unfair..." Her avada kedavra green eyes full with pain as her eyes took on a glassy look from tears refusing to fall. His heart heavy as he heard her clear his throat before smiling at him, "anyways," she continues, "after they let me out again… which didn't happen until a whole day passed I waited until they weren't watching and ran away. I didn't make it very far because at that point I hadn't eaten in 3 days and I had only a sip of water I sneaked that day and I collapsed. When I woke up I was back in the cupboard and when I woke up my uncle, Vernon, used his belt to whip my back for wasting their time and making other freaks bring me back…. After last year though when Siri went loose and I ran away again I think Dumbledore put a spell up so I can't run away. I've tried three times this summer just to either freeze in place or walk back into the house and into mycupboard." Her bitterness and anger evident even as she brings her knees up, hugging them to her chest in an attempt to comfort herself. Voldemort's mind loops as the word cupboard echoes in his brain as his rage grows near boiling within him. Enemy or not, she is a magical child and should not have grown up this way. Coiling his long body around her he bumps her cheek with his nose before flicking his tongue out. The last bit of her words finally registering in his mind as he forces himself to calm down, "Dumbledore? Cupboard?""The cupboard under the stairs… my… room, if you could call it that. As for Dumbledore, he's this really old wizard… ancient actually. Self declared Light Lord and everybody apparently thinks he's great… they don't know him though. He uses people without thought, all for his blasted greater good. He's a manipulative, lying, scheming old coot but he hides it all behind a facade of geniality. He pretends to be loony and kind because it makes people relax around him, makes people underestimate him even if they do not realize that that is what they are doing. They don't see how calculating he is. How controlling. And I'm stuck playing the part of his perfect little Gryffindor golden girl. I wouldn't put it past him to bend my will and peruse my every thought and plant his own suggestions if he knew how I feel about him. I'm stuck anyways," her every word dripping with disgust and loathing that rivaled his own… if he told you he was not shocked he'd be lying. How did I never see this? Questioning himself yet again… her hatred of Dumbledore was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Hissing out, "Stuck?" He focuses on the conversation at hand,"Stuck. Even if I want to be neutral or even join the dark, basically have options like every other magical in Britain, I can't because for some reason Voldemort, the Dark Lord, is trying to kill me and has been since I was one… and I don't know even know why! Every time I ask anybody who could know something they always say, 'you're too young but we'll tell you when you're old enough'. It's so bloody annoying. It just leaves me so frustrated because it's like they expect me to be like 'no, you're right I shouldn't know WHY this dude is trying to kill me, even though I've KNOWN he's been trying to END ME since I started school and have been facing him trying to kill me every school year, but no, you're right I shouldn't know any of this until I'm older so I can enjoy almost dying every year without understanding why." The young teen huffs out angrily as she absentmindedly scratches his scales in the right way, forcing him to hiss at the pleasant feeling before even thinking about it. This is quite probably the single most bizarre conversation he's ever had with someone… not that it isn't enlightening, however, this is really not what he was expecting. Any of it really, he realizes, he was most definitely not expecting to see his greatest enemy strip down to nothing. Her long tan legs exposed after those atrociously large trousers fell to the forest floor, her smooth tan stomach, shapely breasts, her pink nipples hardening in the cold breeze. Her arse firm and perky—no doubt due to quittage and the many other things she does keeping her nice and fit… clearing his mind quickly from those dangerous thoughts he brings his attention back. "That is dumb… they should keep you informed because it is your life in mortal peril. As for this Dumbledore character… he sounds dangerous. It was a very wise choice indeed for you to fool him into thinking he has control over you… however, he doesn't really have control of you, does he? There must be something that gives you leverage over him or at least in a better position to face him… as for your… Voldemort fellow, perhaps you could… chat with him or send him a letter… maybe if you told him that you don't want to fight he'll leave you alone?" His voice taking on a considering tone… or as much of one in parseltounge even though he knows he doesn't want to fight her from this day forth. If anything he actually wants to get to know her, the real her, now wasn't that a shocking revelation? Looking at Lyra as she contemplates what he just said he realizes (not for the first time today) how beautiful she really is. Her round almond shaped green eyes, a green not unlike the killing curse, glowing almost with otherworldly power encased by long thick ebony lashes, her high cheekbones, small nose and her slightly pointed chin combined with long ebony hair so dark it could be blue in certain lighting, her soft red pouty full lips and straight white teeth biting at her lower lip in concentration. She looked like a doll. Mentally shaking himself, he watches as Lyra's eyes slowly fill with determination as she reaches a decision "You know what? I think I will… I didn't tell Dumbledore this but he, Voldemort, he didn't seem as out of it… as crazy last time I saw him. I mean, I kind of forgot because he's a little crucio happy and after three in a row I realized that maybe I was just being hopeful… but perhaps… if I was right that is… perhaps he'll listen, perhaps I can be free. Free to choose a side, to actually have options for once in my life..." she glances at him coyly before continuing, "I like you… you know? You've helped me more than my so called friends do… I'd like to talk with you again, if that's alright?" Uncertainty clear in her hypnotizing green eyes as her words flow out in her awkwardness, "Not that I wouldn't want to bring you home and take care of you but the Dursley's hate when I'm happy and if they thought you made me happy they'd try to kill you or actually succeed… they tried to kill my owl, Hedwig, because she is my first friend and that's why she's staying with the Twins… oh, Morgana! That's right I can't even quill a letter to Voldemort if I don't have a way to get the message to him!" Her voice shaky before she laughs softly without mirth. "I should've known… nothing ever works out for me… potter luck my arse." Voldemort knows those words weren't meant for him but for some reason they stuck, making up his mind he decides that he needs to know what her home life was—is like in more depth… from the bit she had told him none of it is good. "What if I send a message along to the Voldemort fellow?""Really? You can do that? Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose… and I don't know, he has a snake named Nagini… I don't see her taking kindly to another snake near her master… I'd hate if you got hurt… especially just to help me…" She inquires worriedly, Voldemort would never admit it, but her fussing over him (even if she didn't know it) is quite cute. Rising himself up to be level with her eyes he hisses out, "Yes, I'll be fine. I am sure I won't need to battle her...""If you're sure… then thank you very much Shesha, really, even if he turns me down… it's nice knowing that there's someone besides Siri who would actually help me." Her sincere voice so warm and kind it made him feel both warm inside and terrible because he knows that she not feel that way if she knew it was him. Looking up at the sky he notes how dark it's getting, "It's getting quite late Lyra, the day has already fallen to night and I do have a message to deliver… I'll meet you once I've found him and have a response…" It feels different saying her name… he is just so use to calling her Potter. He unravels himself from her warm, soft body and watches a she gets up elegantly, "Okay, thank you again… Um, well, we can meet here but if you can't find me… I live at Number Four, Private Drive… just in case." Her voice soft as she smiles radiantly at him, "I should go, lest they lock me out again… Bye, Shesha, I'll see you soon!" She hisses out quickly as she begins walking, presumably, back to the house she stays at. After a few moments of debating with himself he decides to follow her quietly all the way back to Number Four, Private Drive.