"Crucio!"
Draco screamed as he writhed on the ground, screamed as his young body was filled with pain that it had no desire to feel. But his pain was interrupted by the voice of a girl.
"Leave him alone, would you?" the girl said, hands on hips. "What's he done to you?"
Voldemort looked up in amusement at the brunette, temporarily abandoning the spell. "Amelia. How unexpected." He looked back at Draco, who screeched as the pain returned.
"My Lord, I told you to let him up."
Draco was so astonished that he stopped screaming, even though the excruciating pain continued. A girl was telling the Dark Lord what to do?
Amelia took the lack of screams as a sign that Voldemort had stopped. "Now let him up."
Voldemort sighed melodramatically. "If I must."
He waved his wand, and next thing that Draco knew he was suspended in mid-air. Amelia glared at Voldemort.
"My Lord…" she said warningly, in a tone strangely similar to Ms. Weasley's.
Voldemort finally put her in her place. "Amelia, are you attempting to tell me what to do?" His tone was even more dangerous than Amelia's.
Draco suddenly got a strange suspicion that he might have been safer when he was under Crucio. The situation was getting out of hand, and he was suspended upside down in the air.
Amelia tilted her head, as though thinking about her response. "Yes," she replied finally.
Voldemort took a step closer. "That is a very… dangerous thing to do," he said softly, his voice silky and… Draco didn't know the adjective.
Amelia looked at him and shivered. "I like living on the dangerous side of things," she whispered, and as the space between them grew smaller and smaller she took a step backwards.
Voldemort continued to advance. "Which explains what you are doing here." With one great stride, he was looking down at her face. "But I don't mind." He closed the space between their faces, and pulled her close.
Looking down at the Dark Lord kissing Amelia, Draco felt stunned. Something was really, really wrong. How could the Dark Lord feel… love? Draco found the idea so funny, he began to laugh uproariously.
He regretted it a minute later as he tumbled to the ground in front of an irate Dark Lord.
"Think it's funny, do you?"
Draco hiccupped. Damn it, he thought. Now he's gonna get REALLY mad.
Draco was right.
"Still laughing? Well, try this! Crucio!"
After a moment of pain, Voldemort asked,
"Tell me, what is it that you find so funny?"
"Erm… hiccup!"
The Dark Lord still wasn't laughing. "Pardon?" he said, flicking his wand in order to cause a moment's worth of agony. Amelia disapproved.
"For heaven's sake, milord," said Amelia firmly, "you've gone far enough. Now let him go home, and then you can… punish me for my disobedience without being laughed at."
Voldemort glared at Amelia, but relented. "Get out of here, you little guttersnipe," he ordered Draco. "And don't come back until I send for you." Then he abruptly turned away.
"Where were we, dear?" he asked smoothly, and they resumed their kissing. Draco ran out, desperate to share his newly-found gossip. And so, he did not hear Amelia's comment a few minutes later.
"Milord?"
"Mm-hm?"
"You know, that boy made really bad mistletoe. Next time we kiss under the real stuff."
The Dark Lord agreed entirely.