Okay, as promised, this is the challenge that I have posted on my profile. I just had to write it. First official story, so be nice please.
A soft sigh drew Voldemort from his thoughts and he looked down at the boy between his legs.
"What's wrong love?" He asked adoringly. Fred twisted around to look up at him.
"I think we should break up." Voldemort thought his heart stopped. He started to shake.
"W-why?" He asked, trying not to cry. Fred sighed again before standing.
"I just don't think it's working out between us," Fred said quietly. He turned and walked away.
"Wait! Please come back!" Voldemort called. Fred kept walking.
"I need you," the broken Dark Lord whispered. He sat there sobbing for a moment before jumping to his feet and rushing into Malfoy Manor. Servants and house elves cowered back from the anger coursing through him as he swept through the halls, seeking out his minions.
He didn't have to search long; apparently the Malfoys had felt his fury and suddenly appeared before him. Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco knelt in front of him, necks bent, silently offering him their lives.
Voldemort calmed at the sight. Not everyone had abandoned him.
"Keep me informed on Fredrick Weasley's whereabouts," He ordered forcefully.
The Malfoys exchanged confused glances before Lucius asked nervously, "Has something happened My Lord?"
Voldemort's snake eyes narrowed dangerously. "That is none of your concern," He hissed.
Lucius immediately lowered himself further in submission, "Of course, My Lord. I will keep tabs on the boy."
Voldemort sneered and gracefully apparated to his throne room on the top floor. There he awaited news anxiously. It came three days later in the form of an owl.
'Coward,' Voldemort thought, 'too afraid to tell me in person. That means bad news.'
Voldemort breathed in deeply and opened the letter.
My Lord,
The Weasley boy was seen in Honeydukes, embracing Albus Dumbledore. After a brief investigation, I have concluded that they are now an item. I await your will.
L.M.
Voldemort seethed with anger.
"How dare he!" The Dark Lord roared. "Running off with my arch nemesis!"
"How could he do this to me?" Voldemort sank to his knees and cried.
After an hour, he was disturbed by a knock on the door.
"Mister He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sir?" Came the squeaky voice of one of the Malfoy elves.
Voldemort's faced sneered in disgust. "Fetch me my cloak. I'm going clubbing."
The eavesdropping Draco's mouth dropped in shock. He was deeply disturbed by this declaration and decided to seek his father's advice.
"Clubbing, you say?" Lucius mused, stroking an invisible beard. "I believe our dear dictator has a severe broken heart."
"Huh?" Draco gaped.
Lucius chuckled happily. "Oh how it was to be young," he said stroking Narcissa's hand lovingly.
Draco, more confused than ever, decided to just go to bed.
*TIME SKIP*
Voldemort sat at the bar, drowning himself in firewhisky.
"Why?" He moaned pitifully.
"Come now love, don't waste your precious time on children. Let me make you feel good," A seductive female voice breathed into his ear.
"Bellatrix!" Voldemort slurred. "What're you doing here?"
"Just thought you might like some company," She smiled prettily.
He frowned at her, "Why would I want your company?"
She looked briefly hurt before snatching his hand angrily and dragging him into the ladies room and locking the door. She shoved him against the wall and attacked his lips viciously. His alcohol-induced slow reaction time gave her several seconds of full mouth access before he realized who he was kissing. He shoved her off, but she just focused her attentions elsewhere. Bellatrix dropped to her knees and swiftly undid his robes.
"Hey, whattaya do—ohhh"
Bellatrix's head bobbed up and down on his small and snake-like member. She moaned around his dick and triggered one of his own. He fisted her hair and shoved himself deeper down her throat. She moaned again and moved her fingers furiously in and out of herself. She pulled away and wrapped her legs around his waist. He flipped them around and fucked her against the wall of the bar's bathroom. Bellatrix's high and whiny moans came out in cries of 'Fuck yes!' or 'Harder!' All in all it was deeply unsatisfying and over too soon.
Voldemort went home even more depressed than ever.
As he laid in bed that night he decided, "If I can't have Fred, I'll have to take the next closest thing!"
When morning came, Voldemort went to the flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes that Fred and his twin shared and waited. A tall, ginger boy stepped through the door whistling out of tune and was immediately jumped by a snake-like man.
"Bloody Hell!" George exclaimed. "I'm not Fred, you idiot. You scared the bejeezus out of me! Merlin, what is wrong with you!"
"I didn't come here to see Fred," Voldemort said slowly.
"Oh, really," George replied sarcastically.
"Yes, really. I wanted to talk to you." Voldemort said irately.
"Well go on then."
"I think we should date." He said smartly.
George looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.
"Have you lost your mind?" George queried.
Voldemort pouted, "Oh come on! Why not? Am I really so unappealing?" His eyes started to water.
George cringed at his tears. He really was a sucker for puppy dog eyes. Plus he always thought the whole evil take over the world thing was kind of hot. Guess he was like his twin that way.
"Oh fine," George agreed.
"Yay!" Voldemort squealed and dragged him down the stairs, past a confused Fred and toward Honeydukes. When they got there, Voldemort sat them down and ordered some butterbeer.
They sat there happily nursing their drinks and engaging in polite conversation, but did not speak of the war or previous relationships. As the night dragged on, George grew less interested in conversation and more interested in what could lay beneath his date's clothing.
Voldemort adjust his robes and squirmed in his seat. He would like nothing more than to take the Fred-look-alike to bed and pretend he was his twin. George saw him try to hide an erection and decided to help the poor guy out.
"Would you like to continue this conversation at your place?" He purred, reaching under the table to run his hand over Voldemort's thigh.
His eyes darkened with lust and he dragged George outside and apparated them straight to Malfoy Manor. They ran through the halls, giggling like over excited teenagers, ignoring the confused and dirty looks from house elves and Death Eaters. Voldemort wrenched open the door to his chambers and threw his new soon to be lover onto his large, black satin bed. George laughing in delight and beckoned him closer.
Voldemort launched himself at the waiting ginger, teasing him mercilessly before finally entering him. He pounded into the younger man forcefully, almost painfully. George's cries and moans of pleasure drifted through the halls.
Draco Malfoy, out for a stroll around the mansion, had not been warned not to go near the top floor and nearly died of shock. There, at the end of the corridor, was his master having sex with a Weasley! They hadn't even closed the door! And that is how his father found him in the morning, unconscious on the cold floor in front of Voldemort's still open bedroom door.
"Poor boy must have fainted," Lucius tsked before covering his son with a random blanket that was lying around and sweeping back down the hallway.
The affair between Voldemort and George continued for several more weeks, growing continuously more unstable. Their relationship was based purely on sex and they were never satisfied, causing them to grow restless and uneasy. Their fate was sealed one evening when, during release, Voldemort shouted another's name.
"Fred!" He cried as he came. George froze under him, his face full of hurt and anger.
"That's what this is all about? That's why you came to me, begging me to go out with you? You're sick!" George ranted. He gathered his clothes and apparated out of Voldemort's life.
*TIME SKIP*
Four hours later, Voldemort found himself at the same club he had gone to after Fred left him, nursing his fifth drink and arguing with Luna Lovegood.
"No Lu-Lu-" He cut himself off, frowning. He tried again, willing his mouth to cooperate in his drunken stupor.
"Loonaaa-haha" He laughed delightedly, then remembered their current topic of discussion.
"I am not in love with Hermione bloody Granger." Voldemort said sternly.
"Yes, you are," Luna insisted. "Just ask her out on one date. That's it. Take her to dinner, or a movie, and just spend one night with her and see where it goes," she urged.
"Fine," He sighed and went to go see The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Thorn-In-His-Side's best friend. He somehow managed to apparate to her flat without splinching himself and knocked on her door. He wobbled slightly and stumble backwards a few steps. As he did, he realized how dark it was outside and wondered what time it was.
His internal question was answered when the door opened and an irritated voice growled "This better be good if you're waking me up at two in the morning."
She stopped short when she realized who was in front of her. Voldemort wrung his hands nervously, "Would you like to go on a date with me?"
She stared blankly at him.
"I mean – I know this is all very sudden, but I'd like to give it a shot," He garbled out.
Hermione blinked, then threw herself into his arms, squealing like a kid in a candy shop.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" She smothered his face in sloppy kisses and they lived happily ever after.