The feel of his fingers against my flesh makes me shiver and from the look in his eyes I can tell he knows… knows he can make me shiver, moan or scream whenever and wherever he wants. Sometimes the knowledge of the power he has over me makes me feel sick and dirty, as though I'm a toy for his pleasure. But I digress, after all that is what I am. Battles are fought everyday and every hour in this world, large and small…I lost my battle. A battle where I was looked to as the saviour….the hero…what crap. They see there hero now on his knees and crawling for slight affection…anything damn it, just to know that I'm more than a whore…a failure.
His eyes burn me, black as night. To think I once found comfort in darkness. He smirks and I quiver. Fool…such a fool I am. How can Voldemort fear death when it's all I crave? Not quite though…my hope is still there, foolishly waiting in the shadows of my heart. Save me…dear Merlin someone please….