Chapter 3 : A passionate dream
Her body was totally relaxed by the water and she fell into a dream. A strange dream, and we all know the dreams can unleash parts of our unconscious we don't know ...
She saw herself, dressed in a deep green dress, very sexy, tight to her curves, revealing the most part of her left thigh. Her shoulders were bare.
She was in a huge ball room that must belong to a castle : huge, with candles floating everywhere in the air. The ground was made of black marble.
A faint piano sound could be heard in the room, but she couldn't see the pianist.
Then, she felt strong hands sliding each side of her waist.
She caught them and entwined her with his. They fitted perfectly together : both very pale...
He leaned and began kissing her very slightly down her neck.
Her legs turned jelly. She wasn't thinking normally at the time, been in a kind of transe.
She wanted this man... his body... more than anything else. He was power-hungry and not gentle in his touch. His hands were wandering on her body and stroke her breasts with passion.
She lifted her arms and stroked his dark hair with her hands.
She still couldn't see his face but was sure that he was what she wanted, what she expected in a man, that they were meant for each other.
She caught his scent and it was made of fresh pine remembering her of someone full of domination.
How much she wanted to be his….
He took her swiftly in his arms and turned her body quickly so she could face him.
And then she saw him...
Deep dark red piercing eyes, straight nose, proud face and a smile on his lips.
Voldemort.
A younger Voldemort... handsome, but already having this unhealthy glint of power in his eye.
She didn't shake and took his face in her hands. She wanted him. She still wasn't herself but some other self. She had the feeling she had this other being buried in her during a long time and He had awakened it.
He said in a deep steady voice : "I chose you…."
She pressed her body to his, feeling his warmth, almost intoxicating, and kissed him with burning lips.
Then, she screamed and woke to find herself shaking in the cold water of the bath. Out of breath... from fear ? or desire ?
In his arms, she was warm, protected, almost home ; and now, she was cold, angry . She didn't understand.
What a strange dream ! she thought . What a sick dream ...
But curiously she wasn't afraid. She still wanted him.
How could He, Voldemort, supposed to be dead Lord of Darkness, could have awakened such a desire in her ?
Something has changed. She could definitely feel it.
And his words. He had chosen her ? for what ?
Wasn't he dead ?
Yes he was, …. though she had never seen him while he was still alive.
Why was she so much attracted by him ? in the dream she wanted to do everything to please him and had felt that they belonged to each other, somehow.
Very curious….still she wasn't afraid.
She should be but she wasn't.
She knew somehow that he meant her no harm, on the contrary, she felt that he could bring her much.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she cleaned the bathroom and went straight to her cbedroom.
Opening the widow, letting the fresh summer night air stroking her face, she couldn't stop thinking of him, his grasp, his hands...
She smiled, and her smile held a peculiar glint, a strange one, almost….
evil.
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