Disclaimer: I disclaim.
-Bondage At Its Finest-
Ropes cut into your wrists; the numbing cement of the tombstone flush against your back.
Your forearm is bleeding, the knife in his minion's hand saturated with your blood.
The cauldron seethes darkly, and then Wormtail drops the creature unceremoniously in it.
A sinking sensation in your gut: You know what that thing is. Vainly you think it has died.
But then, just when you finally begin to believe your untruth, he emerges: Fear, power and death, all rolled into one flesh and bone vessel.
Your stomach drops further still as he approaches. Fight or flight?
One caress of his pale digit sends your mind reeling with pain. One touch was all it took.
The look in those serpentine red eyes inflames you: What now, baby Potter?