A/N: Thanks to all who read and reviewed this last chapter...this one turned into a monster of one. Sorry for the delay in updating, but this one is extra long to make up for it! Would love to know what you think...
Chapter 14: Confrontation
"What are you doing here?" Neville asked as she entered the greenhouse.
"I think we may have a problem," Sarah pulled her oversized light blue hooded cardigan closer to her. She handed Neville the watering can, helping him with the plants. "I think these babies might need a warming charm, it's cold in here," she said as she studied the leafy plants.
"I don't think it is that cold, are you feeling well?" Neville asked, as he sprinkled the plants with water.
"I've been better," Sarah admitted.
"What kind of problem do you think we have?" he asked.
"I don't think I quite…well, my Potions N.E.W.T didn't go as well as planned," Sarah's face was pale as her hand trembled as he handed her back the water can.
"Do you think you failed?" Neville asked, his forehead creasing in worry.
She shook her head, swiftly, "No, but he wants top marks. I don't think it was that. I was so distracted. Actually, I don't remember much of it."
"Do you think he knows…what I told you?" Neville asked.
"How would he know?" Sarah asked, "But he saw us together yesterday and he might question you. You can't tell him anything of what you told me."
"Sarah," Neville's voice was quiet, "What did you find out?"
She looked over at him and met his eyes, "It's not good," she said, honestly. "It's actually…quite bad. The thing is…if you tell him what you revealed to me…he'll torture you. You have to let me handle things."
"Won't he just torture you then?" Neville asked.
She took a breath, "He is gentler with me, Neville. I can handle it."
Neville paused, "He would still torture you though."
"Maybe," Sarah again moved her cardigan closer to her…she was quickly unraveling and she didn't know how to stop it. She was so weary. "But he has to be careful not to incapacitate me. So he has to be gentler. There are not limits with the amount of pain he can inflict on you…you have to trust me. Don't tell him anything."
"Whatever you think is best, Sarah," Neville replied.
She reached out to touch his hand, "Thank you for still trusting me."
"Of course, Sarah, I trust you completely," Neville said, with a nod, "Always have."
And with that, she turned, pulled the hood over her hair, and left without saying another word.
Sarah's heart hammered through her chest as she stood before Voldemort with Neville at her side. She had been summoned to his study and by his demeanor and the presence of Neville, she immediately knew that this didn't bode well for her. She reached out to brush her hand against Neville's wrist and a silent reminder for him. She was to handle the situation and he was not to get involved.
"Did something happen?" she struggled to keep her voice even.
She absently twisted the skirt of the black short sleeve dress that the Dark Lord had instructed a house elf to tell her to dress in. This particular dress happened to be her mother's…the same one that she had asked Snape to take from her mum's flat upon her death. It was in a vintage, 50s style, with black buttons down her back. Voldemort had begun to look through her wardrobe with a particular distain when choosing her outfits carefully. She knew it was only a matter of time before he took matters into his own hands…but this, he had found this dress among her things and liked it on her. The house elf had instructed her to choose shoes and a piece of jewelry and sensing this was an important summoning she paired it with a silver long beaded necklace that wrapped twice around her neck. It was her distinctive style and not his, but given the choice, she couldn't entirely lose herself with him.
"You failed your NEWT," Voldemort told her sternly. "After all we have done, you go in there and you fail."
"I failed," Sarah's voice was hoarse, "really?" She reached to fiddle with the end of her necklace.
"Yes, really," Voldemort glared at her, "You can't tell me you are surprised."
"I am actually," Sarah cleared her throat, "I didn't think I failed."
"No?" his voice was light.
"No," she answered, honestly.
"But did you think you did well?"
"Not really," she admitted.
"Not really?" Voldemort asked, sternly, "You were prepared, Sarah. For you to fail, there would have to be a reason. And I want to know precisely what that reason is," he pointed his finger at her, his wand resting in his other hand.
She struggled to come up with a response that wouldn't make things worse, but the way he was glaring at her, made it hard to think.
"I don't know why," Her throat was dry, constricting with her panic, and she loosened the top layer of her necklace so it wasn't so tight around her neck, "It just happened."
"No, it didn't," Voldemort raised his wand, "It has something to do with him…" he gestured his wand towards Neville, "you talked with him and since then, you haven't been the same. What did he tell you?"
"Nothing, my Lord" Sarah quickly said, raising out her hand when she saw his wand raise, "He said nothing to me."
"You are an unconvincing liar, Sarah Grace," Voldemort told her, "especially when distressed. Now what did he say?" he shook his wand again in Neville's direction. "If you won't tell me, then I'll torture it out of him, Sarah…"
"Sarah," Neville voice was low.
"Nobody is getting tortured here," Sarah stepped in front of Neville, the black dress swaying gracefully as she moved.
"Let the boy speak," Voldemort said.
"He doesn't have anything to say. What could he have possibly told me, my Lord?"
"You tell me," Voldemort said, evenly. "Do not test me, Sarah Grace. I am sorely disappointed in you. And you know how I react when people disappoint me. Move out of my way."
"No," Sarah choked, tears beginning to fall, "This is not him. It's about me." She couldn't stand the fact that Neville was about to be tortured again…even if he told the truth, he would get tortured for telling her what he overheard Carrow and Yaxley talking about…both were impossible positions for him and the very thought of him again sacrificing for her tore at her heart, from deep within her.
"Don't do this to him because of me," she sniffled, "Please, I can't stand this anymore. Another person that you lash out at because you are angry with me."
Voldemort lowered his wand, "Do you think I want to do this? The boy just got out of bed. Mentally and physically, he probably can't withstand my torture, Sarah. And we know from past experience that he won't do or say anything to potentially hurt you. You just told him to be quiet so he is going to follow your lead. I expect the torture would be long and severe before he confessed. But you can stop this. All you have to do is tell me the truth. What happened?"
She breathed hard, but didn't respond. She tried to wrack her brain for a way to respond, but she had been unraveling for hours now, so much that she couldn't even think coherently.
"If you have nothing to say, then kindly step aside."
Her hands fisted as she stood her ground.
"I can't do that," she retorted, her eyes heated threat against Neville had an interesting effect on her. She seemed to have transformed into a lioness protecting her cub, the panic suddenly gone for her features, left with one desire: to keep Neville safe. He had already made too many sacrifices for her.
"I won't hesitate to bind you."
"And I won't hesitate to use my wandless magic to break your bonds," She countered, her voice steady, but the challenge was there.
"You are acting as if you could overpower my magic with your own," He stared at her, "Reckless behavior is not becoming. I do believe I liked it better when you were panicked."
"You know I will try, but it will only drain my magic…the same magic that you are so keen on saving. Is that a risk you are willing to take?"
He shook her head at her, not quite believing she would be bold enough to challenge him at this moment, "Careful, little one."
"What will it be?" Sarah asked him, ignoring his warning.
"The truth, if you please," Voldemort said.
"You already know the truth," Sarah countered. "I just told you it. I don't know what happened with my exam. Neville has nothing to do with this."
"You are stubborn," Voldemort held up his hand and swept his wand and a book came soaring off the bookshelf to land in his outstretched hand. "Have you seen this book before, dear one?"
The sinking feeling was back in the pit of her stomach. Years of Snape as her guardian taught her when she was caught, it was better to admit then to continue on with the charade. Her face grew pale.
"Sarah," his look was stern, "You will answer me."
She cleared her throat, "Perhaps, we should talk in private, my Lord."
"Will you tell me, then?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," her voice was hoarse, "if you promise there will be no consequences for Neville."
"if he gave you distressing information, then perhaps he should learn to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps that is my job as his guardian of sorts to teach him discretion."
"I'll take his consequences then," Sarah said, hoarsely, "if there must be some."
"No, Sarah," Neville finally spoke, "I can't let you do that."
"You have done so much for me already," Sarah looked over at him and then at Voldemort, "please, my Lord."
"Sarah," Neville protested again, but she quickly returned to his side and reached over to grip his hand.
"I insist, Neville," Sarah said, quietly. "This really has nothing to do with you. Thank you for being such a good friend to me. I really don't deserve your friendship."
"Of course, you do," Neville said, his voice low.
"Ah, the nobility in this room is truly heartwarming," Voldemort said, dryly, dropping the book heavily on his desk and then crossing his arms. "Both of you are acting ridiculous."
"We are both acting like Gryffindors," Sarah countered.
Voldemort titled his head, his stern countenance breaking for a moment, "So you readily admit that all Gryffindors are ridiculous?"
"That's not what I meant," Sarah retorted. "I meant that…" she paused at his shift in demeanor, deciding perhaps when she was so deep in trouble with him, perhaps, she not argue the finer points of being sorted into the House of Gryffindor.
"My Lord," Sarah entreated, her hand still resting in Neville's. "this is truly about me…and you. And the things I need to talk to you about…the reasons for all of this…I can't talk about it, especially that," she dropped Neville's hand to point at the book on his desk, "In front of my schoolmate. Please."
"I will acquiesce your delicate sensibilities, dear one," Voldemort waved his hand and a house elf appeared, "Tom, please take Neville back to his quarters."
"Tom?" Sarah asked, aghast as they left.
He looked amused again, "That's how precisely how worthy I believe my muggle name to be, dear one."
"But my name is a muggle name," she said, quietly.
"I fail to understand what Black was thinking naming you that. There is a long standing tradition among Blacks to name based on the constellations."
"Yes, my Lord, I think his point was to break tradition," she said, crossing her arms, hugging them against her. Her stomach still flip-flopped, feeling like there were a million snitches swirling around in there.
"You look ill," He commented.
"I feel ill," She admitted.
"How much did you sleep last night?" he inquired.
"Not much as I suspect you already know," she coughed. "What are you going to do?"
He motioned to her to sit on the couch and she sat down, absently folding down the creases in her dress. He twisted the book in his hand, transferring it from side to side. He thought over what he remembered from her memories of Snape's parenting and his mind settled on the time after Umbridge where Snape had made her read aloud from her poor school work and how effective that was for her. But the exam was already burning in the fire…but he did have the book and he knew this would be mortifying for her and perhaps teach her the lesson without resorting to physical torture.
The decision made, he sat next to her and handed her the book, "Read to me the page that you read last night when you decided to sneak around my manor and into my personal collection."
Her face grew even more white if that was possible. "I cannot," she shook her head.
"Now, now, little one, I know you happen to be a good reader…exceptional in fact," he said, dryly, taunting her a bit, "Open the book, Sarah."
She opened it to the page she studied last night. And then closed it shut with a thud.
"Care to rethink your choice?" he asked, his voice a silky warning.
"No," she answered, her eyes angry.
"Do you realize how much trouble you are in now? And yet, still you are defiant?"
"I'm not being defiant," she stood up, her hand fisted. "I'm not in the wrong here."
"You failed your exam, Sarah!" Voldemort's voice was stern, "After all the hard work we both put into it. And what makes me angrier is that I gave you a reprieve on using the blood quill for your grading because of how compliant you were being and how much your work improved. And yet, this is how you repay my generosity?"
Her eyes widened, "This is not on me. I am not in the wrong here," she repeated, this time more forcefully.
"Well, I'm certainly not in the wrong," Voldemort still remained seated.
"Oh, yes you are!" Sarah responded, her voice rising again.
"I am always in the right because I am your ruler. It is for me to decide what is right and what is wrong…not you."
"You did this to me!" she waved the book at him, "And you act like I am wrong for being upset? Wrong for wanting to know exactly what you did to me? It's my body that you forever altered without telling me! And yet, I'm in the wrong? How is that possible? Even with your superior logic, you know your actions were not justifiable…not truly."
"Tread carefully, little one," he titled his head, warningly. "You are teetering on disrespect, which I will not tolerate, as you know."
"My Lord," she grunted, "I will take responsibility for failing the test, for Neville's lack of discretion or whatever you want to call it, but this," she sent the book she was still holding to him with her magic, "this…was you! You cursed me!" she accused.
"I saved you!" Voldemort tossed the book onto the couch and stood then, towering over him, his face angry.
"You cursed my womb…all those consequences, I would have rather you let me die!" her volume rose significantly again.
"It was the only way to get what I wanted…"
"And you would just get it, not caring the cost to me," she said, the tears filling in her eyes. She swatted at them, indignantly. "Or our children…"
"What about our children?" Voldemort's tone held a hint of surprise…for it was the first time she truly acknowledge having children with him as a given.
"Our children are destined to be ev…"
She paused at his laughter, deep, rumbling laughter.
"Why are you laughing?" she asked, incredulously.
"Come now, don't you think that if our children have dark preferences it is more about who their parents are verses their time spent in utero?"
She paused at his very reasonable logic, "I will not have my children having dark preferences."
"It's inevitable, little one," Voldemort said, "I will teach them to behave fitting a wizard or witch of their breeding and moreover, you will too."
She had no response to that, so she came at him from another angle, "When were you going to tell me about all of this? The first time we shagged, I would find out when I was in excruciating pain…wouldn't that be a good laugh?"
"I was going to tell you before," Voldemort told her, evenly. "I was going to prepare you for what was to come."
"That's not what they think!" she flung her hand in the direction of the door, "they are having such a good laugh over this…"
"Who?"
"Carrow and Yaxley," Her lip trembled again. "Oh, they think it is so very funny."
"Did Neville tell you that?"
"Yes, and I am glad he did," she declared, fervently. "Someone had to tell me the truth of things!"
He stared at her and then paused, his demeanor softening significantly, "Your feelings are hurt that I didn't tell you myself," he mused.
"No," she swiped at her eyes, "of course not."
"You are upset I told Carrow and Yaxley things about you that not even you knew and now they have the opportunity to laugh at your expense," he continued.
"Do you think it is funny?" she asked, a shadow of vulnerability passing over her features.
"Of course not, I take no pleasure in the unpleasant side effects of the curse I used…the curse I used to save your life."
"But they do!"
"Why would you care?"
"Oh, I don't know!" she exclaimed, "I just do!"
He studied her for a few moments, "I forget that you are so sensitive about these things, " he murmured.
"I'm not sensitive," she sniffled again.
"You are though," he reached forward to grip her arm and lead her back to the couch, "Let's talk over this, reasonably, little one. I can be reasonable if you would just simmer down a bit. You challenge me and I get my back up. This is not the way to have a productive conversation."
She sat with him and stared straight ahead of her.
"You do know that it is the first time you have acknowledged children with me as a forgone conclusion." He couldn't help but feel satisfied at the thought. And because she said those words, his anger towards her actions and her challenging words, had almost disappeared.
She looked over at him, wearily. She had, hadn't she?
"I can be practical if need be. And I know when I have been beat," she said, quietly.
"And yet, you still fight me which such a spirit," he countered, amused. "Why?"
"I can't make this too easy for you, can I?" she sniffled, "You should have told me."
"And given you the chance to lose your virginity to Draco or one of the others?"
"No," she shook her head, wiping at her eyes again with the back of her hand, "I wouldn't do that. You know I wouldn't do that!"
"Why not?"
"Because whoever I did that with, it would mean their death. I wouldn't dare risk Draco's life for that."
"I believe you there, but my silence on the matter was also because I'm not ready to take you as my mistress and I knew you would agonize over the event and contrary to popular belief, I am not sadistic. I don't relish your physical or emotional distress…not usually, that is," he amended, "unless you are acting like a brat."
She bit her thumb, anxiously, and he immediately reached for it, squeezing it.
"Don't," he said, sternly.
"What you did to me…it's unforgivable…"
"It's a good thing I don't desire your forgiveness then, isn't it, little one?"
"Don't you feel at all bad about this?"
He shook his head, "Why should I? I saved your life. I figured out a way to still achieve my goals. So, there might be some…pain for you…but I get what I want."
"You are sadistic."
"I'm practical," he countered, sternly, "some pain is necessary in life. If I was sadistic, I would enjoy your pain and I just clearly told you that on most occasions, I don't. I inflict pain when necessary to punish and change, when the recipient is deserving of it…my other followers, well, I can't speak for them…Carrow and Yaxley are perhaps relishing in it."
"I hate this!" she cried, looking to the ceiling.
"Don't be so dramatic," Voldemort retorted.
"I can't help it! I can't think of anything else. That's why I failed my test." she began to sob.
"I know that's why you failed your test," Voldemort said.
"How did you figure it out?"
"Severus did," Voldemort admitted, "And I saw that the book was disturbed, which for future reference, there are charms to my personal collection."
"Are you mad about that?"
"Of course, especially when all you had to do was ask," he told her.
"Ask?" she laughed, the tears falling, "yeah, sure. That was never an option."
"Because it would have put Neville in a bad position with me…"
"Yes," she tried to take a soothing breath, "and it's just all so mortifying. And disturbing."
"There is no need to carry on like this. You are acting immaturely."
"Feel free to find a witch who is closer in age to you, then," she shot back. "McGonagall is not spoken for."
He reached over to pinch her arm, "Temper."
"I can't help it. That…" she pointed over to the book, "that….oh," she put her hands on her head, "i don't even know what to say about that!"
"It will only the first time, Sarah. Not every time."
"That doesn't matter!"
"It will only be a minute and then it will be over."
"But I have to think about it…for how long? Days, weeks, months? It's not enough to know that this is coming, but now I have to contend with this on top of it?"
"If that is truly the case," He rose, "Then let's fix this now. Follow me." His tone didn't allow for any argument. He was done with the theatrics.
"What? What are we doing?" she looked at him through her falling tears.
"You and I will have sex now," he told her, matter of factly, "And then you won't have to be afraid of it. Problem solved. Now, move."
"NO!" she stood with him, "No, no, no. I can't. Not now. Not feeling like this."
"You are panicked and allowing fear and irrationality to rule you. And it needs to stop. Come along now. I will not ask you again."
In a daze, she followed him, her face pale. Half way up the long staircase, she tripped over her heels and he reached down to steady her.
"Careful," he instructed.
"I hate heels!"
He stepped back down the steps towards her and then lifted her up in his arms, "We need to get you accustomed to wearing them."
"I like the way they look," she admitted, "they just kill my feet."
"I know," he said as he carried her down the hall and into his room. He eased her down and balanced her as he helped her slip off her shoes.
"This is all happening too quickly!" she said, trying to breathe.
"I think it has been a long time coming," he countered.
She stood next to him at the foot of his bed, shaking at the prospect. She began to tug at her necklace, anxiously.
"You need to calm down," he gripped her shoulders and then reached to remove her necklace, untwisting it from around her neck. He tossed it on his dresser, "this was an unconventional choice."
"I can't do this," she whispered to him.
"Do you need to use the loo?" he asked, ignoring her words.
"Please don't make me do this…not now," she whispered to him, continuing to cry deeply.
"I'll take that as a no," he put his hand on her hips and turned her around. He began to unbutton her dress.
She twisted around, fighting him, "Don't!"
"If you fight me," he warned her, "this will be so much worse for you. The damage to your body will be significant."
"I'm not ready," she said, beginning to heave.
"Stop fighting me!" he growled at her, his frustrating returning with a vengeance. "You are going to tear your dress."
"I don't care about the damn dress!"
"It was your mother's dress!"
"And I don't care!" she fought more and the dress ripped.
"Sarah!" Voldemort grunted, using more force to try to restrain her from escaping from his hold and still allowing him to continue unbuttoning the bottom buttons which didn't tear, "Is the thought of having sex with me really that appalling for you?"
"It's not that," she said as he wrestled with her as she fought against him. He adjusted his hold and finally just wrapped his arms around hers, so she was pinned against him.
"Sarah, still yourself now." he whispered in her ear, shaking her against him, "I don't want to have to use magic to bind you and keep you still, but you know I will. Moreover, if that is what it takes to make you comply with me, I'll do it without another thought…I'll stick you to the bed." she immediately froze and he squeezed her tightly, but not painfully.
"You wouldn't!"
"Of course I would," he said, calmly, "and what's more, you'd deserve it. How agonizing it would feel to have to lie there and not be able to move while I do whatever I want to you. If you want disturbing, I can be disturbing," he said, darkly. "If you want appalling, I can be appalling."
"I told you it's not you," she whispered, the fight leaving her.
"Then explain yourself...and do so quickly," he commanded, turning her around to face him, his eyes still angry.
"It's the book…it's not you," she exclaimed and then her face flushed as she turned her face away, "it's you too." she said, quickly. "of course, but I just had gotten my mind wrapped around the fact that we would be having sex…"
"Had you?" he asked, questioningly, turning her face back towards him.
"Well, almost," Sarah admitted, sheepishly, "I'm still working on it…I'm really trying to work on it, I swear to Merlin I am…" he was still holding her away from him so he could see her and she swayed slightly, him adjusting his hands to steady her.
He could tell she was telling the truth and then he knew that there was no way he could force her to do this tonight, not when she was starting to come to terms to her future as his mistress and the mother of his children. His frustration waned and his temper abated.
"I believe you," Voldemort said, pulling her to him so she was leaning against him.
"But now, you had to add this to it? It's too much for me to handle right now. Please don't force me to do this with you tonight."
"You know how I feel about begging," he said, his voice low.
"I'm not trying to beg, I'm trying to ask you to reconsider," she shot back, "I'm too upset and I will fight you. I won't be able to stop myself…even if I know it will make things worse. It's a reaction and maybe it is wrong…"
"It is very much wrong."
"And maybe it is foolish…and immature…"
"Yes, it is most certainly all those things," he said, his tone severe.
"But with the night I had last night and now the day I had, I can't control my emotions right now. You know that about me…it's a struggle and I try, but I'm not there. I'm not stoic like you or Snape. And you know what a fight I can put up when I'm feeling this way."
He pulled her away from him and studied her disapprovingly with pursed lips, before gestured to the bed, "If you sit and attempt to talk to me reasonably and without such hysterics…then just maybe, Sarah Grace, I'll give you a reprieve."
"Why would you do that?" she asked him.
"Well, certainly not because I am condoning this poor behavior, but simply because I don't want you to view our first time as rape. Actually I don't want you to view any time with me as me raping you. I can see that if we do this tonight, I will have to be forceful with you…very forceful to tame you enough to do this. And in that case, then your mind will naturally categorize our sex as rape."
"Naturally," she crossed her arms, shivering. "Because that is what it would be."
"You are treading on thin ice, Sarah," he said sternly. "Sit before I change my mind and simply not care."
She walked over, resigned, and sat with him on his bed. "I'm so scared."
"I gathered from the hysterics," he summoned tissues, "Blow your nose, for Merlin's sake. This display is absolutely a disgrace. You are braver than this…by far."
She shivered from the air on her bare back, her dress beginning to fall over her shoulders as she tried to wiggle to adjust it.
He stood, lit a fire with a flick of his wand and then summoned her robe. He wrapped it around her shoulders to cover her back.
"Now, we will reason through this together, little one. I will help you, but you need to try to see things rationally, without the hinderance of your rampant emotions. Do you think you can try to do that?"
"Yes, my Lord," she murmured, "I can try."
"I fail to understand you, little one. You have always faced situations that would have unraveled the bravest witches or wizards with such a fearlessness and grace, yet the thought of sex of all things is what makes you come undone…not my inner circle? not the cruciatus? I fail to understand why. I need you to explain yourself. It seems irrational to me."
"My fear isn't irrational though."
"But you have had sex before," he moved her face so she was looking at him, "you have even lost your virginity before. You aren't innocent."
"Yes, I know, but you have to understand."
"Understand what?"
"My first time with Draco, well, it was…" she struggled to explain, "Well…" she shrugged.
"Go on," he prompted, "what was it like?"
"Losing my virginity to Draco…it meant something…"
"That was clear to me," Voldemort said, with a nod.
"but it…it was un…" she struggled again, "unpleasant," she frowned.
He chuckled, "That's being generous to your former husband," Voldemort tapped at her knee, "I saw your memories, remember?"
She cringed, "You saw that. Merlin, how mortifying!" she groaned, "How much did you see?"
"What I needed to. And from what I remember from your memories, it was downright awkward and painful," Voldemort said, with a raised eyebrow. "Not an ideal first time and if I had know how he would have handled you, I would have definitely thought better of it."
"It wasn't entirely his fault…Lucius was putting so much pressure on him."
"Still, if he was older, he would have handled that pressure better," Voldemort shook his head, disgusted, "I even had to help him along and even with my specific instructions, he still fumbled you."
"Whoa, wait!" Sarah turned her entire body towards him, and put her leg underneath her, "you gave him specific instructions?"
He tapped at her leg, "Sit like a lady especially in a dress," he instructed her.
"My legs are closed," she protested.
"Oh, you have made that abundantly clear tonight," Voldemort shot back, "legs down. You can cross them if you like."
She groaned, but lowered her legs, crossing them and smoothing her dress over them. "Did you really give Draco specific instructions about me?" she asked again.
"Of course," Voldemort rolled his eyes, "I never fully trusted him with you in this area. And then I wanted to know what you liked and didn't like."
"Did you ever thing that maybe that was private between Draco and myself?"
"And don't you now realize that nothing between you and I is private…even your preferences with former lovers?"
"I don't like that you did that."
"I know you don't and I simply do not care," Voldemort retorted.
"Now I feel like my whole marriage was a farce," she bunched up the tissue in her hands, fiddling with it, "Thanks for taking away from me the one thing that always made sense."
"It never made sense for you to marry Draco," Voldemort countered, "he was all wrong for you."
"But I loved him. And none of that mattered. I have loved him since I was eleven years old. And I felt…safe with him."
"Don't you feel safe with me?" he reached to flick her cheek.
Her laugh was weary, "Not hardly. You are so unpredictable. One hesitation, one wrong move and I am either getting the cruciatus or a beating."
"That's not entirely true," Voldemort answered, "again, I'm not sadistic, Sarah. And I am not as evil as you make me out to be. I can be gentle with my lovers…or rough, if they like it better. Or adapt to the occasion as need be…"
"Regardless," Sarah couldn't help but blush, "losing my virginity to Draco was bad enough, but I was thankful it was Draco because I loved him."
"But I am so much more skilled than Draco is, little one. Love really doesn't matter…not really. You'll see."
She swallowed hard, "But this book…did you see the pictures?" her eyes were wide. "The women's faces look like they are getting their fingers chopped off."
"Of course, I did," he said, evenly, "And if you had just stopped and let me explain instead of getting so righteously indignant downstairs…the book, it's a bit of an exaggeration. It is a dark magic text and geared for people…well, um…" he paused, "have dark preferences."
"Like you…" she sniffled, "so it is going to be like that!"
He held up his hand, "Stop and listen to what I am saying, Sarah. I'm not going to allow it to be that bad for you."
"So, it's not going to be as bad as the pictures."
"Not quite."
"How?"
"Do you really want specifics now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really," She mumbled.
"What you need to know is that I will help to ease the pain with this, but…I won't lie to you, the spell I used on you, well, it will require significant amount of force to…" he paused, frowning, "bind us together."
She looked stricken.
"But you have a good tolerance for pain. I noticed the first time I used the cruciatus on you. That's much worse than this."
"But," Her lip trembled, "this is personal…you are in my space…I don't…know how to explain it."
"I gather your meaning," he said, with a nod.
"Really?"
He sighed, "I always knew that you took sex as something deeper. And to be honest, I find that innocence to be one of your many charms."
She turned to him, wearily, "Why me?" she whispered.
He traced the side of her face with his finger, "Why not you?"
"I feel…young…inexperienced…inadequate."
"I feel like you are all those things, but it isn't something that thwarts my desire for you…because it means that you are amendable to my leading. I can shape you. You aren't set in your ways."
She gave him a small smile, "I am still set in my ways, my Lord."
He chuckled, "I admit that some of your ways are taking a lot more time to rectify…like your pension to save everyone…and your inability to give into your dark magic…I didn't anticipate your stubbornness and your resistance. But, I like that you are a challenge."
"I don't know how to force myself to be okay with this," she said.
"At this point, I would just be content with when I take you here," he poked his finger into his mattress, "that you won't fight me. I also want to ensure that you won't cry when I try to touch you. And I can see tonight, we aren't quite there yet. I'm afraid in either scenario, I might lose my temper and I don't wish to be violent with you as my lover."
"I don't how to just settle myself enough not to."
"Well," he tapped her knee, "I do think we may need to start working on that now so when I'm ready, you will be ready."
She swallowed hard, "What exactly does that mean?"
"We'll discuss it after your test. I just want to ensure that when the time comes, you won't fight me…and after it is done, in time, I fully believe you will be okay with our arrangement. In fact, I'm sure there will be times when you enjoy yourself."
"You ask too much of me," she said, honestly. "I think you are wrong there."
He shook his head, "I'm never wrong, remember, little one?"
"Okay," she laughed in spite of herself, and then used the tissue to wipe her tears. "What about childbirth?"
"Let's get your pregnant first and then I'll try to explain things there. There are spells I can use to ease that with you and I will do that for you."
"That's fair," she took a breath, "I really am sorry I failed my test. I feel horrid about it. And so embarrassed."
He frowned at her, shaking his head, "You must learn not to let these things get to you. You are stronger than that. This meant so much to you."
"It did," she said, swallowing hard, "I want the potions fellowship with Snape."
"You'll have it," Voldemort said, "you can retake your test tomorrow and show Snape and I exactly how much you deserve it."
"Do you think so?"
"I know so," his look turned severe, "or you will be severely punished."
"What about Neville?"
"Hum, I'm going to talk to him, but I won't torture him."
She nodded.
"Sarah," Voldemort's eyes were on her, "did you visit the greenhouse earlier today?"
She shifted and frowned, "Yes."
"Did you tell Neville not to say anything?"
"Yes," she admitted.
He smacked her leg, "Don't do that. I can't have him here if I feel like I can't trust you with him."
"I just wanted to warn him. I wanted to protect him."
"Your first responsibility to is to me…not him," Voldemort told her sternly. "Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," she said, biting her lip. "But I didn't want him to take more punishment for me…"
"I know, you have such a tender heart," he said, dryly. "I'm not sure how to deal with that. Bellatrix was quite the opposite of you."
"I'll never be Bellatrix," she said, quietly.
He shrugged, "I don't find that unappealing. I do, however, want you to show me that you can keep your own among my death eaters, even with that tender heart of yours."
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"I am still figuring that one out," he poked at her, "But you do know I always get what I want."
"I do," She yawned in spite of the serious conversation they were having.
He stood up and took her by her arm, pulling her off the bed. He dropped the blanket off her shoulders and then slipped her black dress off of her. He turned her around so she was facing away from him and unclasped her bra, untangling it from her arms and throwing it on the dresser with her necklace.
"Don't stiffen," he chided, before summoning her nightgown and instructing her to lift her arms. He slid it over her and then turned her back around.
"You have to have sleep if you have hope of achieving on the N.E.W.T tomorrow," he lifted her up in his arms and with his wand, flung the blankets aside, slipping her into bed. "So I can keep an eye on you." he pulled the covers up.
"No dinner, tonight?"
"Later," he told her, "We'll have it in bed."
"Okay," she turned on her back and turned her head to looked over at him, "What will you be doing?"
"Figuring out how in Merlin's name to get you top marks in Transfiguration and especially the Dark Arts," Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "We need a study schedule."
"I think my magic is back," she said, quietly. "I easily cast lumos wandlessly and it was strong."
He gave her a severe look, "I wondered how you created enough light to traipse around the manor."
"I only used it for a minute to locate my torch."
He frowned harder, "which is something I will be confiscating later tonight. You are not allowed to have blatant muggle objects in my home."
"I grew up in the muggle world…and there is nothing wrong with a torch," she told him.
"Enough," Voldemort snapped at her, "I'm angry that your mother would take you away from where you rightfully belonged and create all these ideas in your head."
"Those ideas would have been in my head anyway even if we had stayed in the wizarding world."
"You are probably right," Voldemort conceded. "I know the tender heart comes from your mother."
"The best quality of my mum perhaps."
"That's debatable. She always was a beautiful woman and an exceptionally talented witch, which was why it was such a shame she pulled you away."
Sarah shifted again, turning on her side towards him. "How did you know my mum was beautiful?"
"I saw your pictures," Voldemort said, reaching for her texts and his quill, "and I did meet her once."
"Did you?"
He nodded, but said nothing more. They were silent for a few minutes, Sarah's mind being drawn to her mother.
"You are supposed to be sleeping," Voldemort said.
"I know, I will," She looked at him, "May I tell you something before?"
He looked up for where he had began to write, "What is it?"
"I'm still upset that she never told me she was dying."
"Then you are foolish," he told her, bluntly.
"Why?"
"She made a strategic choice, Sarah, one that spared you months of grief of waiting for her death to come," Voldemort told her.
"But she lied to me."
"And you still see the world in black and white with nothing in between. Sometimes lies are productive. Surely, you have all people can attest to that," he raised his eyebrow at her.
She swallowed hard, "That's harsh."
"I'm sorry, did you want me to lie to you?" he asked, quirking his head.
"No," she sighed, "well, maybe…"
"My point then…"
"So, you think I am wrong to hold onto the past?"
"No, not necessarily. Listen, I'm not the old fool, little one. I'm not going to talk to you about the healing power of forgiveness or some sort of rubbish like that. If I were you, I would try to stop agonizing about her decision which was years ago. Merlin knows, you have enough to deal with besides drudging that back up…"
"But what if…" she shifted, "what if I do the same thing with our children?"
"Oh," Voldemort laughed, "I'm 100% sure that you will readily lie to our children without a second thought."
"What makes you so sure of that?" Sarah asked, incrediously.
"You'll wish to shield them from the pain of having me as their father," Voldemort said, knowingly. "not unsimilar to your mum trying to sheild you from the pain of her death…but in the end, our children will know who I am…and you still had to face your mother's death."
"That's true," she said.
"And this was simply not one of your mother's foolish choices. I'd say defying me and pulling you out of the wizarding world would be top on the list."
She looked at him, curiously, "How did you meet my mother?"
"That is a story for another day," he poked at her, "enough talk. You need sleep."
"I'm sorry I bothered you,"
"It wasn't a bother," Voldemort countered, "and if you are confiding in me again, that means one thing."
"What's that?"
"You are giving me an opening," he told her.
"One that you will no doubt exploit," she said.
"Undoubtably," Voldemort answered, dryly.
She fell quiet and he thought she was almost asleep when she spoke again.
"My Lord," she sat up, "when are you going to punish me for all of this?"
"A smarter witch would have just let it go," Voldemort frowned at her, "must you always be prepared for everything?"
"I like to know what I am facing, otherwise…"
"It consumes you…yes, I know," Voldemort rolled his eyes.
"I mean…you were so angry…I want to know if this is going to come up again," she shifted as she leaned against the headboard, "And I did break like a thousand of your rules."
"A thousand?" he asked, amused.
"Well, maybe three," she amended, "four? five? I think I lost count somewhere between using a muggle object and failing my test."
He reached over and flicked her cheek again, "There was a lot in the past two days."
"So?" she bit her lip.
"Do you really wish to deal with this tonight?"
She nodded, "I do…or not at all. I'm just saying that I don't want it to be held over my head."
"Very well, I was going to wait a few days, but if you insist," he flicked his wand and a few minutes later the book came flying in the room. He opened to p. 22, and handed it to her, "Go on."
She looked at it wearily, "Can't you just beat my arse?"
He inclined his head, "What makes you think I'm not going to?"
"You made it sound like you weren't."
"Hum, I don't recall that. Now, read to me about this curse I used."
She cleared her throat, "But the words are kind of graphic. Like really graphic. Kind of inappropriate."
"Not between lovers, which we will be in a few weeks. Now go on."
Her stomach twisted as she stared at the book, covering the disturbing pictures with her hand. She wrinkled her nose. "Um, I really can't."
He raised his eyebrow, "Shall we go over your list of transgressions? Go on. I'll help you count them. In order, please."
She shifted, "Well, I used wandless magic to create a light."
He grunted, "You missed one."
She frowned.
"You decided to get out of your bed without my permission."
"For Merlin's sake!" Sarah grunted, "that's not one. What if I had to use the loo?"
He inclined his head, glaring at her.
"Fine, I moved without your permission," she retorted.
"Sarah," he warned, "temper under control."
She took a breath, "two, I used my wandless magic to create a light. Three, I used a muggle object to sneak out of my room. Four, I snuck out of my room," she began to drawl, in a bored tone, very much reminiscent of Snape, "five, I went into your private collections; six, I read your private collections; seven, I failed my exam; eight, I snuck back out to see Neville…and I think that about has it…"
His eyes were on her, "Sarah, aren't you forgetting something?"
She frowned again, "I lied to you? And yelled at you? And fought you when you said we were going to have sex?"
"Nine, Ten, and Eleven," he supplied for her, glaring at her.
She shrugged, "at least it wasn't a thousand!" she bit her lip. "Eleven transgressions doesn't sound too bad, right?"
He raised his eyebrow, in disbelief. And then fixed her with another glare.
"I know it sounds bad," she offered, "But honestly, I really was under great duress. I mean…this," she lifted the book up to show him, "was really traumatic for me."
"It's a good thing I find you so darn amusing, my dear one," he said, under his breath. "You are getting spanked eleven times…but If you read this page, like a good girl, to me…with proper enunciation…and good clarity, then I'll only use my hand and you can even stay in bed…otherwise you are over my desk with the belt, understood?"
"Quite clearly," she frowned and swallowed hard, "Well, when you put it that way…" she looked at him, again, helplessly.
"Go on," he said, "If it helps, either inject some humor into your reading, or pretend it is a history of magic text…honestly, you are acting like this is worse than the cruciatus."
She grunted and then cleared her throat, "Restoring Virginity: dark magic to subdue and bind your…" she cleared her throat again, "wanton lover." she looked up at him, "that's not me."
"Clearly," He retorted, dryly, "now go on." he nodded to her and she managed to read the book and all the gory details, but her voice was quite cheeky as she did. He knew it bothered her, because of the blush that rose over her features, but he had to hand it to her, she rose to the occasion. He held out his hand for the book and she handed it to him.
"Tell me again, it's not going to be that bad," she asked, nervously.
"It's not going to be that bad," he said, his voice almost soothing. "Now roll onto your stomach so I can spank your arse."
She wrinkled her nose, "I should have just kept my mouth shut," she sighed, dramatically.
"I told you that."
He followed his word and when he was done and her knickers slid up, she turned again to him, wiping her tears.
"May I ask you one more question?"
"Go on," he said, settling back into the bed and picking back up the texts and his quill.
"Will you give me warning? When this is close…"
"I'd say if you pass your Dark Magic exam with top marks, then the time is close at hand."
"How again am I going to do that?" she asked, wearily.
"If you would go to sleep like I asked you to an hour ago, then I could figure that out."
"Yes, sir," she groaned and turned on her side, facing him, "I, personally, think it is a hopeless endevour."
"Sarah Grace, bed!" he snapped, "now."
"I don't think even Rita Skeeter would believe how complicated this relationship is," she mumbled.
"Must you always have to have the last word?" he groaned, reaching over her to smack her bottom again.
"Yes," she settled down in bed, "but I know I'll never get it again."
"And in that, you are one hundred percent correct!" Voldemort growled at her, but then rather surprisingly, leaned over to brush the hair out of her face, "Get some rest, little one."
She nodded.
"Top marks tomorrow."
She yawned, "Yes, sir."
"Don't disappoint me again."
"I wouldn't dare," she closed her eyes and soon let sleep overcome her, exhausted from the emotions of the day.
A/N: Please review: and up next: The Dark Arts exam...