A/N: This was the first time I've restructured the plot of the story as opposed to how it came out in my head. In the end I only altered about 8 sentences, but those sentences changed the direction of where we are headed. I felt that in the end, those changes will help the story grow in a better way.

Chapter 12

Harry awoke the next morning with everything in focus. It was a rare thing for him to fall asleep with his glasses on, but by the time he had drifted of, he hadn't managed to take them off. In fact, he was fairly certain that even though he eventually succumbed to sleep, he strongly suspected that the young woman nestled on top of him had continued their play a bit longer. At the very least, he never remembered her stopping.

Either Emily had been right the night before, or she was the best actress he had ever met. He truly felt as though his performance did not disappoint. But her appetite for him was voracious. Whenever things had cooled down to simple kissing between them and he thought they may be drawing the night to a close, she would grasp him in her hand and they would continue wildly. His soreness was a testament to how hard she had pushed him the night before.

She was a bit too rough, he thought to himself. And indeed she had been. There had been several times throughout the night, that had she not been in the middle of making him feel incredible, he would have recoiled sharply in pain when she slammed her body into his, or when she lanced her nails down his back. Still it went without saying that it was a remarkable night, or at least, he thought it did. For no sooner had he tried to move her from on top of him did she stir.

"If the first thing out of your mouth this morning is not, 'That was the best night of my life,' then not only will I be sorely cross with you, I will also be terribly curious as to what the hell you have been up to that could possibly have been better."

Harry laughed lightly, now no longer wanting to get up or remove her from her position. "Emily, that was, so far, the best night of my life. You were amazing, and you made me feel amazing. Thank you."

"Hm, acceptable I suppose. As long as you remain conscious of the fact that the 'so far' part only applies to future nights with me. Though I think you're more than well aware that no other woman will be able to treat you better than I."

She finished with a smirk. Or at least he assume she did. He could feel the turn of her mouth on the skin of his chest. However, at the feeling of her lips on his skin he became painfully aware at both of their current states of undress. And his body reacted in kind. Needless to say, with her position on him, she was instantly aware of it.

"Well, what do we have here?" The actions that transpired over the next few minutes made it so that Harry's greatest morning followed right after his greatest night.

Once Emily's breathing returned to normal, she took a moment to reflect on just what she was feeling. Normally when they touched, her arousal flared and she desperately wanted him, and though the desire was most assuredly still there, it had faded to a pleasant buzzing in the back of her mind. She was also, almost deliriously, happy. She had a feeling that she would feel the same even if she moved outside of their personal bubble, but was unsure of how long it would last. They had been at it for hours last night. She took him to places he had never been before, and in turn was taken to those same places herself. It was all a haze of heat and sweat. Just focusing on what she had felt last night was something akin to hunger. A desire for his body so powerful it made her mouth water. Though she had been burning with that desire for weeks, it had all come to a head last night. And then surged even higher. She had been frenzied. And it was wonderful.

It was during this luxurious feeling of post-coital bliss that she decided to push her luck a bit. Sensually moving her body up his own, she locked her gaze with him, before dipping her head down to capture his lips in a languid kiss. They stayed like that for minutes, before she finally shifted her head, allowing her lips to slide off of his, down his cheek, to his ear. And she once again made her declaration.

"I love you."

He had been uncertain, the day before. His response had not been completely clear. It was acceptable at the time, but she wanted the simple statement returned in full this time.

Harry did not answer right away. He knew what she wanted. Every single time she said those words to him, she would look at him for a response. And he knew that until now, all of his responses to her had been unsatisfactory. At least to her they had been. Harry had felt them all to be fine given the situation she had placed him. She was practically forcing her emotions on him, doing her best to pull those same emotions from his own heart, while trying to hold onto them as well.

But now, things had changed. He had crossed a threshold with her. One that he wouldn't have imagined crossing in the past any time soon. What's more is that he did so with the one person whose actions made his life miserable. Voldemort had murdered his family and sentenced him to be raised by his terrible relatives. Relatives who hated what he was and could never care for him because of it.

But how could he associate that phantom monster with the woman in front of him. Even the laugh he heard was completely different than her horrifying laughter that was present near a dementor. When she laughed at something he would say or do, it was simply a sound of happiness. Not the sound of someone drunk off the feeling of triumph. Not a mad cackle. Yes, he knew she had done terrible things, and would do more in the future, but when she interacted with him, that knowledge didn't matter because when she was with him, she was not Voldemort, she was just Emily.

Hearing her shift about, he could feel her begin to kiss and caress his neck. While it did seem as though she would wait for an answer, she had found something to do during that time. It was right when she had brought her lips back up to his, to take his mouth into her own that he decided he couldn't give her the last little piece that she desired.

"I know."

Emily Riddle had made him a declaration. To be a better person for him. While he knew her intentions were good, he also knew the darkness she held inside of her fractured soul. She delighted in causing pain and misery. While such things may have taken a temporary backseat due to her infatuation with him, he would have to make sure that would be where they stayed. He doubted that she was even capable of change, but he knew he would be able to remain at the forefront of her desires. So he would never leave her, and in doing so, keep her out of trouble. And maybe, one day, he could honestly tell her those three little words with certainty.

The weekend ended on a high note. Harry spent the afternoon with his friends on Sunday. Ron had asked him where he had been the night before, and Harry told him that he had gotten a little castle fever and had wandered out to the grounds, with his map and cloak of course. Hermione had looked at him disapprovingly, but Harry reminded her that he had spent the vast majority of the summer either hidden away at Privet Drive, or hidden away at the Burrow. Now that he was safe within the Hogwarts grounds, they should just let him get out some.

They both nodded in understanding at that, though Hermione told him to mind his sleep schedule. It wouldn't do for him to sleep through classes, well, other than History. The evening was spent in the common room either chatting or playing wizard's chess, before they headed to the great hall for dinner. Right when they seated themselves, a letter appeared on his plate. He picked it up, but before he could open it, Hermione snatched it out of his hand.

"Harry, do you know who this is from?"

"Not really, no. I have a good guess though, why?"

"Because you can't just go touching things that magically appear in front of you Harry. It could be a portkey, or something cursed."

Though Harry knew that Hermione was making a fair point, he was more than well aware that anyone who wanted to transport him somewhere to them, was already very nearby. And after last night, he was more than certain he would go willingly.

"Look Hermione, I know, I do, that there is a threat out there. But like I told you, I have a pretty good idea as to who that is from, and I would really appreciate it if you could let me see it."

And with that, Harry gently took his letter back, keeping his eyes on hers until her turned them to the letter and unfolded it.

'Dear Lover,

Don't worry about anyone else getting their hands on this. Its spelled to appear to be a simple love letter from an anonymous admirer. I charmed your glasses this morning so you will actually be able to read it. Even Dumbledore himself wouldn't be able to read this. Though I wouldn't doubt that he would try to use that crooked nose of his to snoop through your mail. Be on guard around him. I don't like him, but you're already aware of that. Just as I am aware that you do like him. We'll deal with that later. I wanted to tell you again that last night was perfect. And I hope there will be many, many more repeats. Preferably every weekend. I hope you understand the not so underlying message. Fuck me more.

I'm sure by now your face is quite red, which is good, as the sappy love letter this is disguised as is quite mortifying. Feel free to share it with your friends, so they wont be wary of such correspondence in the future. Writing you this letter, thinking about you, helped the day go by as I missed you terribly, even though its only been a few scant hours. I'll still be expecting your performance in class on Wednesday to be exemplary. I want you to be my star pupil, which means you're going to have to work hard to outstrip your friend, Ms. Granger. If you're successful, well, let's just say I will reward you in a way you will be sure to enjoy. By the way, I'm looking at you from the staff table.

With Love,

Emily

As soon as he finished the letter he stole a quick glance towards the staff table and sure enough, her gaze was indeed in his direction. He refrained from staring back, he didn't want to bring any attention to them both. He couldn't deny how much he just wanted to be around her now. It was as though the sex had opened a door inside of him and allowed the vast majority of his apprehension about their relationship out. He still was aware that the road would be hard, but at least now he was sure he wanted to travel down it. He felt a comfort and security around her that he just hadn't ever felt before. If only it weren't that niggling fact that she was an evil witch, literally, he would be blissfully happy.

It was then that the realization once again hit him in the gut. And this time Emily was not around to kiss the thoughts away. He had fallen for someone who was a terrible person. Someone who tortured and killed for fun. Someone who would have no qualms slaughtering countless people, then using the bodies to elevate herself above the rest of the population. Setting the letter to the side, he began to ponder just how he would stop her. Because he would. He would have to. He wouldn't be able to remain with her if she started another war. He didn't want to think about if she had killed a person already during her foray into the muggle world, and it was only the fact that he wasn't positive that he let the thought flow out of his mind.

She wanted power and immortality. That was her desire. The latter of which she was already under the impression she had successfully gained. Now it was the power. And power was so many things to her. She had magical power, and her old moniker held plenty of power in its own right. Most people wouldn't dare say her name, even over a decade later. But did he not have his own power? He felt he was adept in magic, and he had his own money and fame. What if he could convince her that Emily Riddle and Harry Potter had more combined power than Lord Voldemort? Maybe he could dissuade her from a bloody ascent to her desires. They could find a different path.

Harry was quite aware that his inner Slytherin was coming out. He had never really thought ambitious ly before, but now he needed to. At the end of the day he felt Emily was his responsibility. It was his job to prevent the world being in danger from his... what even was Emily to him. She had called him 'Lover' in her letter, but what exactly was a lover, other than someone a person has sex with. He supposed that considering the ring he had given her, coupled with his declaration at the time, he may as well consider them engaged. She certainly wasn't leaving him anytime soon, and he doubted she would allow him to walk away either. He wondered if he asked her what she thought on the subject, what her answer would be. Considering her possessiveness, she would probably jump on the fiance idea and run with it. She'd have the wedding planned for the day he turned seventeen.

He had veered of his original train of thought. It was so easy to do that when his mind turned to her. He allowed his imagination to run crazy when she was involved. But he figured that was simply proving his godfather's words from yesterday correct.

So, long term goal. Placing Emily in a position of power, probably Fudge's position. Keep her occupied. Good Lord, he was practically designating himself as her warden, guard, and husband all at once. And the strangest bit was he didn't particularly dislike the idea of being with her forever. If he were to wake up every morning with her head on his chest like today, he felt he could be very happy.

It was then that he noticed Hermione's fidgeting beside him. He was about to ask what was wrong, but it came to him before he could. His friend wanted to know who had sent him the message, but felt that it might be too nosy to ask outright, and was struggling to decide whether to leave it be or not. He decided to make it easy for her.

"Well that's somewhat embarassing." He then passed the note to her and she practically snatched it away from him again. He watched her eyes quickly scan over the note, hearing her snort a couple of times in amusement.

"That was probably the most heart wrenchingly pathetic bit of poetry I have ever read. Whoever this secret admirer of yours is, Harry, she has no clue who you really are."

Harry could only nod in agreement, as he had no clue what Emily had spelled it for others to read, and if he were to remove his glasses to read it, he wouldn't be able to make out the words.

"What's it about then?" asked Ron. He had already filled his plate and had begun eating. Hermione attempted to hand the letter to him to read, but he made a shrugging motion but didn't speak, but that was more than likely to the spoonful of roast he had just put in his mouth. A moment of chewing later he swallow and replied, "Nah, I don't want to read Harry's private mail. That's just rude, I only wanna know what its about."

Hermione scowled at him, though odds are Ron didn't even realize he had indirectly called her rude. Harry couldn't help but snigger at that, but once again, kept his mouth shut as he had no clue as to what Hermione had read.

"Someone's sent Harry a love letter. A secret admirer. And they wrote the worst poetry I have ever had the displeasure of reading."

"What's this? Ickle Harry's got a secret love interest?"

"That's just too rich. What's there to like in a speckly stick like him?"

"Well I don't know Fred, he can fly pretty well-"

"Oh, that a fair point, George, not to mention those eyes of his. I hear the green makes the ladies swoon-"

"But that's about all he's got."

The Weasley twin's had come up behind them. Fred deftly plucked the letter from Hermione's grasp.

"Oh wow, Harry. This bird's got it bad for you. Worse than Gin, when she was eleven anyway."

At the mention of the youngest Weasley, Harry immediately felt uncomfortable. If what Emily had said was true, then the girl was still madly in love with him. But last he heard, she was dating Micheal Corner. In fact he had seen them together just the other day. How could she have a crush on him, and date another person? It just seemed wrong. Then again, he wouldn't put it past Emily to lie to him to get him to believe in something she wanted him to. He would let the matter rest and not dwell on it. It would be nothing but a waste of his time.

Harry had been so lost in his musings that he failed to notice Fred pulling out a very odd pair of glasses. He placed them on, and once again turned to Harry's letter, before letting out a "Oh ho, clever girl charmed the parchment George. Dear Lov-"

Harry's seeker reflexes came into play before Fred made it through the introduction. After this third bit of manhandling the parchment was quite wrinkled in Harry's hand.

"If its charmed, then I would wager its not meant for your eyes, Fred. Even more so, its not meant for the entire school to hear. Let me see those glasses."

Fred didn't bother removing the spectacles as George reached into his own cloak and produced a pair. Harry made a show of reading the letter through the spectacles before setting the parchment alight in a nearby candle. The twins both made sounds of disappointment at this, clearly they'd been hoping to finish it. Harry thanked them both, returning the strange eye-wear to them, and simply saying that the letter contained a fair amount of perverse statements that he felt uncomfortable sharing, as they had been about himself. He did compliment them on their newest product, asking the two how the lenses worked. But the two simply smiled, and with a wave they both walked off. While the two would probably be willing to tell him in private, they wouldn't be so willing to do so in public.

"If the letter really was so inappropriate, Harry, you should have given it to Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she would've been able to find the student responsible and would've ensured it doesn't happen again."

"Its not that big of a deal, Hermione. Though it was a bit queer, the comments were relatively flattering. Just something I would never want anyone else to see or hear."

Harry couldn't help but internally groan at Emily's sense of pride. Of course she would think that no one could best her. And then a couple of seventh years pull the rug from under her. She needed to understand that her pride would always be her undoing. And with arrogance like hers, well it was a small wonder her head still fit atop her shoulders. He would bring that up with her later. He turned to the food in front of him and began to eat. He had time to plan things. Emily would do her best to remain here with him until he finished his final year. There was no need to rush.

Several weeks passed in a sort of pattern. Harry would attend classes, do homework, and spend time with Emily. They kept up with their weekend rendezvous. Emily loved looking forwards to the hours the would spend together. Harry wasn't opposed to it either. Those times together didn't get better, but in no way did they get worse. Each time was as intense and erotic as the first. At times Harry felt almost like a normal teenager, albeit one with an intensely horny girlfriend. This feeling was shattered on an early November morning, when Harry caught sight of the Daily Prophet's headline.

Mass Breakout from Azkaban Prison

Previous Escapee Sirius Black Brought in for Questioning

Harry left the Great Hall immediately, knowing that Emily had seen him. She would follow. She always did. He went straight to her classroom, and waited for her to arrive.

"I can assume your not happy with me?"

Her question was completely rhetorical, and they both knew it.

"Explain."

Harry gave her no more than that. In a different time, Emily would have put any other person in their place for making such a demand. But her patience with Harry grew in leaps and bounds every moment they spent together. She would rationalize his behavior in almost any circumstance. Either his impudence was a product of a lack of sleep, or maybe he was feverish or even hungry. She'd even blamed a couple of his outbursts on merely being young. He could never truly ignite her anger, therefore it was easy for her to ignore his rudeness then pacify his mood with some pretty words or a kiss. In the back of her head, she was more than well aware that she gave him far more leniency than she would any other, but she felt that if he went out of his way to shower her with his love, she could deal with some teenage moodiness. It was, she believed, a perfect balance in a perfect relationship.

"There should be little for me to explain to you, Harry. I released my followers from their imprisonment. They are safe and sound and are recovering from their years of exposure to dementors."

"Do you honestly think I care if people like your followers are safe and sound? Torturers and bigots, the lot of them. Whats worse is that you know what they are. Why would you even bother, its not like they can help you. Not really. What can they do for you that you can't do yourself?"

"Nothing, of course. But they went to prison rather than denounce me, Harry. I rewarded that faith with their freedom."

"Even though they are awful people?"

"You must know that not all of my followers are criminals Harry. I won't lie to you, some are more... excitable than others. But most are good citizens looking to protect their interests from those who would seek to take them."

"Protect their interests? And how does that fall in line with the followers of yours who tortured the Longbottoms into the permanent Spell Damage ward at St. Mungo's? What interests were they safeguarding with that?"

"Those were the more excitable of my followers. And its not exactly like I was around at the time to stop them."

"Would you have?"

"Frank and Alice were both quite magically powerful and had pure family lines. Had they not been opposed to me, I would have let them be."

"So what, are we all supposed to just lay down and let you have your way? Just let you walk into the Ministry, give you a crown and submit. Damn it Emily, we won't just do that. You claim to be protecting rights, then why don't you extend those protections to Muggleborns. They belong in our world just as much as anyone else."

"What's with all this 'we'. I hate to break it to you Harry, but your not really one of them anymore. You're mine now."

Harry scoffed at her when she said that. "Just because we're together Emily, doesn't mean my beliefs are just going to fall in line with you and your pureblood ideas. In case you haven't noticed, you and I are both Half-Bloods. We aren't really on top of the pecking order."

"I am Lord Voldemort, I will always be the pinnacle of any society's standing." The slip back into her old moniker was a force of habit.

"And that's who you're always going to be, huh, Emily? That's all you really even want. The monster under our beds. The person who murdered my family and countless others."

Harry sat down in a nearby desk. "How do you expect me to love you like this Emily? If anything I confront you about has you reverting back the woman you once were. You talk to me about being better, but tell me, what are you really planning?"

Emily stared at him. Would he ever stop throwing her murdering his parents back into her face? She had thought they had worked past that. Had she not shown him that she was sorry for that? Didn't he know that it was a necessary event and it had brought them together? And what's worse was the fact that he was dangling the one thing she wanted in her face. He still had not said just those words to her. Whenever he did give her an actual response it always held a detractor. I want to love you, I think I love you, I just might love you. But it was never enough for her.

He wanted her to level with him. To throw it all out on the table for him to see. He was under oath, he wouldn't be able to tell others willingly. But how badly would the truth damage things. These past two months had been almost perfect. She wanted to smooth things over in any way. She lightly brushed her wand, thinking that a memory charm would work wonders. But she couldn't. Not anymore. He deserved more than that. The trouble was figuring out just how much.

In the end, Emily decided on full disclosure. She told him that once her followers regained their strength she would raise their banner anew. Hopefully stay away from open warfare. Stick to taking over the political positions required to push new legislation that would ensure the pureblood families remained in their positions of power. Funnel enough of the governments power into the old families, before abolishing the ministry's higher functions and then place herself at the helm of the country.

"So your sticking to politics this time?"

"I tried sticking to politics last time, but some key players, one of them being Dumbledore, caught wind of what I was doing. Started thwarting certain purebloods from taking key positions in the government. Made a point of lobbying for rights that mudbloods didn't deserve. They pushed us so far back we retaliated with force. And it was a far more successful than any previous venture."

"So you would rather not see any bloodshed?"

"Harry you need to understand just who I am. I enjoy hurting others. I am more than well aware its not a nice thing to do. Doesn't stop it from being fun. I love that feeling of power and control when someone lies before me, screaming under my wand. Its almost as wonderful as having you under me, gasping my name. And I do my utmost to control that desire just for you, because I know you hate it. You're too compassionate to overlook that. I understand you completely, don't you see. More so than anyone else ever could or would."

"Hah," He gave a single bark of laughter. "Leave it to you to answer a simple yes or no question with a minute long pile of hippogriff dung. I know you understand me Emily. I get that. And as a matter of fact, I understand you, maybe more than you realize. I know you like to hurt people. And I appreciate you trying not to do that for my sake. I can't expect you to do it for yours, because I know that deep down, you love who you are. I guess now I'm starting to figure out who you are as a whole now. I've been holding on to the memories I had of Emma and Professor Hurst and been telling myself, you're not all bad, because you were them too. I've been tricking myself into believing that there is something worth redemption in you. I guess I never thought that maybe that was never you, just a mask you needed to get close to me. "

"Of course they were masks, Harry. But that doesn't mean our interactions together had no meaning. The desire you felt for Emma, I know you feel that for me. The respect and attraction you have for Professor Hurst, I know you have that for me as well. And my feelings for you have remained steady since the night I pulled my body out of that cauldron. I'll never be a good woman Harry. I've been alive for over seventy years, I know that, but I will always be the best woman for you."

Emily's eye's looked into his own. Right now he hated the fact that she was disguised as his professor, because he didn't wish to see brown eyes. He desperately wanted to see her red irises staring at him. He didn't bother wondering if she was once again trying to fool him with pretty words. He knew she always would. She had all but confirmed who she truly was to him. He just needed space to figure out if he could still handle it. To figure out if he still thought he could stop her and at the same time remain at her side.

Emily was gazing into his eyes, trying to convey every emotion she felt for him. She bent forward to kiss him, but he turned and left. The rejection stung, but she knew he would be back. He was stubborn. He wouldn't let things end this way. Even if he wanted to try, they both knew she wouldn't allow it. She would give him the time he needed to mull things over. Let him get over that hot headed anger he was prone to. This wouldn't be their first argument, but it was undoubtedly their first big one. She could still handle things. Everything was under control.

A/N: Not everything is kittens and rainbows. Emily is still under the impression she can control Harry, and Harry is looking hard for a reason to love her. She only levels with him to lure him back under her thumb, but Harry is now aware of what she is doing. Something's gotta give, somewhere.