So she requested a lust potion to give her some added kick. The Dark Lord has summoned her four hours ago, and she had until nine in the evening to show. Which was only twenty minutes from now.
The potion arrived two minutes after request and she drank it quickly, feeling it kick in almost immediately. Confidence, sexiness... it wasn't her, but maybe it's what he wanted
When she showed up, she shut the door behind her and glanced to the Dark Lord. Though the potion was still coursing through her system, she felt... well, the sight of him still made her stomach drop in fear.
She hated him with so much, that she didn't think the potion would change anything.
But apparently it was noticeable, the difference. As he went to strip her, pushing her roughly towards the bed, she boldly reached for the tie on his robes, and began to pull it off of him.
"What are you doing?" he questioned, pausing.
"I thought you wanted me to," she pouted. He curled his lip, grabbing her jaw and looking into her eyes, turning it this way and that to get the light into them.
"What did you take?"
She hesitated. A lust potion was only supposed to get the action started. It was only supposed to entice the evening, not work through it. So it was wearing off, making her feel once more like Antha. "Nothing."
"Don't lie."
She swallowed. "A lust potion."
He growled in disgust and shoved her face away from him, throwing her clothes to her and storming away. "I'm trying!" she called, making him stop. She felt so emotional that tears appeared in her eyes. "I've never known... I'm sorry, I'm trying... I just thought maybe the potion would teach me something... I don't know... I'm sorry... I'm trying to make you happy, I really am..." She dropped her gaze to the floor. "I just don't know how."
"It's done with feeling, Philantha."
"Excuse me for knowing no other... association with sex than a man using me solely for his pleasure. I don't know what to do here. I have no knowledge of what to do other than pray for it to be over, because it's painful, it's degrading, it's stressful..." She shook her head, staring at him as he watched her. "I'll admit it, I have no idea what I'm doing. When I was at Lavender Brown's, earlier in the week, and ... I heard things... things I've never heard before. I don't know what I'm missing, what I'm not doing... Everytime I think about, I get this image... of you just... of you and I can't... I can't get past that."
He sneered at her. "Then you're useless."
"I'm trying to learn, and this was my last resort. I'm sorry... I'm trying to give you what you want-"
"I don't want you to drug yourself for it," he snapped. "Do you trust me?"
"I do," she admitted. "Because I know without your trust, I would have died long ago."
"Then what more do you need?"
She sobbed. "I don't know. I don't know anything about this... I'm sorry."
"Leave," he said shortly. "I'll deal with you later."
"No, we can try again," she said quickly. "I promise-"
"No, leave. I have a meeting with Severus in an hour."
She felt as though she had been slapped. She swallowed, nodding, before gathering her clothing in her hands and apparating to her room.
The wedding was the next day. She worried... was he growing bored of her? Disappointed she wasn't living up to his expectations of a dutiful wife? She slept uneasily that night, and was awoken by a house-elf demanding she wake. It was time to get her ready.
The wedding was to take place at eleven, in the grand ballroom, with a miriad of Death Eaters, their wives, and the Daily Prophet. Antha wondered when the Dark Lord had infiltrated the news... but she really wasn't all that surprised, either.
Her dress was a pale cream color, nearly white, and made of many pieces of lace and tattered fabric. She felt like a goddess, of course, but it just... wasn't her. It wasn't what she wanted, not really. She made it grand simply because it was the Dark Lord, and a wedding with him requiredgrandeur.
Once she was ready, she walked by herself down the main staircase and waited outside of the doors to the ballroom until she was summoned by an elf. It was simply the way things worked.
She was summoned stiffly, and the doors were pulled open, revealing a congregation of Death Eaters seated on both sides. Her father was waiting for her, a sick grin on his face as he took her arms. He offered no comment to her beauty, nor questioned why her scars were hidden by glamours. She didn't want them to be seen. They walked in silence together, until she reached the altar where Tom was waiting, dressed in black and white formal dress robes. He was in his Voldemort form.
The ceremony was barely longer than a half hour, consisting of a hand fasting and ring exchange ritual, requiring the incantation of magic and the exchange of blood through a slit palm.
It wasn't sanitary in the slightest, but it was tradition... a couple's magic was theoretically one. Once the marriage ritual was over, they kissed each other in what appeared to be a soft kiss, but was truly nothing more than a peck. She didn't want to think about what tonight would bring.
The Prophet wanted pictures, for the announcement article, so they posed, Antha doing her best to appear happy with her new future. She wasn't. She couldn't.
They sat at opposite ends of the feast table, the Death Eaters chatting, planning, drinking. The Dark Lord rose suddenly and all was silent. "My wife and I have an announcement to make," he spoke. An announcement? She felt cold. What? "We are expecting a daughter by year's end." Antha choked on the pumpkin juice she had been drinking, and set it down carefully as the Death Eaters all began to clap and offer congratulations. "And for that reason, we'll be retiring early for the evening..."
He gestured for her to stand and she did so, pushing her chair out behind her with a loud scraping noise. As he walked around, towards her side, he seized her arm, pressing it into his side. "Shall we, my dear?"
"Of course," she said calmly. Her heart was racing as the doors shut behind them and then the chatter of the Death Eaters once more resumed. Her bedroom door was once a security, but when the Dark Lord was on the same side of it as she was, it was... just a piece of wood.
"I have a meeting with Severus this evening... apparently there is defiance against the new rules... We will spend the day together tomorrow, instead of tonight." He looked her over, noting how her tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "Rest well."
"And you, Tom," she answered quietly. But she was confused. He wasn't going to... it was tradition a husband sleep with his wife on the night of the wedding. He had pushed for tradition. The whole day was full of tradition. He left, off to his meeting, no doubt. A secret meeting with Severus, as it no doubt was, would best be left undetected if everyone thought the Dark Lord was busy with his new prize.
An owl pecked on her window and she found the Evening Prophet clutched in its talons. They had printed the story already?
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Takes a Wife!
by Rita Skeeter
The late hours of last night, the Prophet was invited to the exclusive wedding of the Dark Lord and his beautiful bride in the Death Eater headquarters. The bride, as pictured below, is the on-again-off-again Death Eater spy Philantha Lucinda Lestrange. Her beautiful dress was a million galleons in price, designed only for her and her alone. Mrs. Riddle, nineteen years of age, has been seeing the Dark Lord for, reportedly, four years now. Her adopted son with her new husband, Salazar, is turning four this year. Salazar, technically Philantha's brother, is being raised as the couple's heir to the Riddle name.
The wedding, which took place this morning, consisted of family, Death Eaters, and very few reporters. The Daily Prophet has the complete wedding coverage on A5.
Philantha had no bridesmaids for the evening, standing at the alter in the ballroom by herself, her husband equally as accompanied. She wore diamonds and her scars - which she received from her late mother - were hidden by glamour charms. Philantha had a secretive smile on her face, like she was in on a secret that no one else knew. That secret later became known at the feast when the Dark Lord announced she was pregnant. Mr. and Mrs. Riddle are expecting a daughter by the end of the year.
How can Mrs. Riddle hide her bump so well? Apparently there is Dark Magic in the works. Her baby bump is able to be hidden by an ancient spell the Dark Lord himself has discovered. Read B2 to find out what names the Wizarding World believes the little girl will be named and join in on the polls!
Everyone at the Daily Prophet wishes their best to the happy couple and their family. They seem very much in love.
Antha looked at the picture accompanied with the article. They didn't look in love at all. Antha was stiff at the Dark Lord's side, her eyes dead and her smile as heartbreaking as her mother's. She looked... detatched, if anything. And the Dark Lord... looked triumphant.
She folded the paper and tossed it away from her, snorting. The Dark Lord had what he wanted now.
"The Order believes it." Snape. She glanced towards him at her bedroom door. "They think you've been seeing him for years... in secret. That the dark magic to cover your bump was the only lie in the article. They know of the potion."
Antha nodded. "Good. They should believe it."
"They worry you've gone dark for good."
"For someone on our side, Severus, you seem to be awfully informed about the Order," Antha stated sharply.
Snape smirked, picking up the paper as he looked at the front page. "Yes, well, the Order isn't exactly quiet, hmm? And children whisper in the halls." He gave her a cold stare. "And your thoughts on this article?"
"It's rubbish. You know just as well as I that the Dark Lord and I were wed for mutual affection towards the other."
"Hmmm, do I?" Severus set the paper down so it was in Antha's line of vision. "So in love, yes. I trust you'll be taking it easy?"
"Of course."
"Good, then also know that the Weasley Wizard Wheezes are suddenly opporating like nothing happened. Some even say that the single twin left is acting a bit unlike himself." Antha blinked at him, trying to figure out if he was baiting her. "I was under the impression I'd be administering a Polyjuice Potion, but you instead killed him."
"The Dark Lord found no more interest in him," Antha said simply. "I did as asked."
"As always," Severus intoned. "Very well. I must cut this visit short, then. Hogwarts is demanding. I can see why Albus went on holiday frequently."
"Yes," Antha agreed. "I'm sure that was the reason. Be sure to send my regards to the students. I'm told a leader's involvement with the children reflects well."
"Told by whom?"
Antha shrugged. "No idea." She tucked her knees to her chest, the small bump pressing against the tops of her thighs. "Has he told you anything?"
"Who?"
"Tom. Does he warn you of anything before you visit me?"
"No." Severus admitted quietly. "He trusts me wholly."
"How do I know where your loyalties lie?"
"I wouldn't be telling you that your lover Weasley is up and about taking over Weasley Wizard Wheezes otherwise. I also wouldn't be here alone with you if the Dark Lord didn't think I was solely loyal to him."
"He's planning on killing you," Antha said quietly. She felt a rush of tears approaching and met his eyes as he seemed surprised. "At the battle. You have possession of the Elder Wand. We all know it's Draco, but... Please, don't go to him if he calls. It's not worth it. He knows the battle will be his end. Don't give him that chance... that chance to win. You have to live. You have to keep Draco alive." She sobbed and stared at the blankets at her feet, the covers she had pulled back from her bed. He sat at the foot of her bed, angled towards her. "I don't want to be trapped here forever."
"You won't be." He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Don't cry. You know how I feel about women crying."
She laughed quietly. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't feel anything anymore. I've become a shell, and whenever I do feel something, it's this overwhelming urge to cry and it usually means my barriers aren't strong enough around some memories."
He reached for her and smoothed her hair, soothing her only slightly. "I'm more concerned that you're shielding too much."
"Maybe," Antha admitted. "Have you met with Cissy?"
"She's hiding," Severus answered. "She is with the Tonks at the moment, reuniting with her sister until more suitable safe homes can be secured."
"Good," Aquila nodded. "She was so worried she'd be trapped too. At least she's out."
"She worries about you. I assure her you're doing better."
"I hope so, at least," Antha murmured. She rubbed her hands against her legs before taking Severus's hand. "You're my only friend now, Severus." She held it tightly and let out a deep breath. "Does he scare you, too? Or have you become numb over the years?"
He was silent a moment, sighing. "You become numb, but there are times where he can surprise you." Antha nodded and glanced toward the hand she had grasped tightly. "He frightens you, doesn't he? You tell him he doesn't, but he does. And then when there's an inadequate amount of affection towards him, he takes it out on you-"
"And then is surprised when I recoil like I'm a slave." Antha finished it bitterly and let go of his hand. "And then he fucks me like I'm a dutiful wife. And then he gives me gifts as an act of an apology. And then he does it again. And then the gifts. And again. And again and again." She clenched her hand into a fist and reached suddenly to the nightstand, grabbing a candle. It was lit and she let the wax drip onto her open palm. "I feel nothing anymore. It doesn't burn. It doesn't sooth. I feel numb. And then heartbreak. And then numb. And then heartbreak. There's nothing else. There's nothing better. He's cruel, and he's lovely, and he's vile and he protects Salazar."
"Lovely?" Severus scoffed. "He's anything but lovely."
"He saved George. He keeps me alive. He keeps Salazar protected. It's enough for me."
"For you to stay," Severus nodded.
"I have no where else to go," Antha whispered. "I will never have anywhere else to go."
"You always will. You're Antha."
She sobbed again and dropped the candle, the fire going out and she peeled the wax off of her skin, listening to the silence of the room as she tried to control her emotions. "I am Philantha. I am not Antha anymore. I'm not your student anymore. I'm not your fellow Death Eater anymore. I'm not human anymore."
"More human than most of us," Severus disagreed. "The Dark Lord is awaiting my arrival in an hour." He was silent a moment. "Do you want to go somewhere?"
"Where?" Antha muttered. "Where can we possibly go? I can't go anywhere. I'm a prisoner. I so much as breathe wrong and he knows."
"Does he know about the others?" Severus asked suddenly. "Last time you were here."
"Yes." She swallowed. "He can't do anything to me while I'm pregnant, but I expect a punishment for letting the men do anything to me." She exhaled. "I'm so tired of him. Of them. I don't even know if I know how to love him properly. He's so quick about it, and I suppose that's best. But how do I convince him that I'm trying to love him? How do I convince him I do, without truly convincing myself?"
Severus didn't have an answer, it seemed. "He says you've never slept with Weasley."
"No."
"Anyone but him? And the others?"
"No," Antha admitted quietly. "It was too dangerous in school. I knew he was looking for me, waiting for me. If he found out about any of my friends... I couldn't risk that. Maybe I should have. He can only hurt who he can get his hands on." She swallowed. "Is it possible to teach me?" He glanced at her sharply, but she continued. "Not ... not phsyically, no. If he starts to believe me in love with him... will he stop? Will he stop hurting me?" She took a breath, energized with her new idea. She lurched forward, grabbing his shoulders. "Can you teach me how to love him? He believes your words, he believes your loyalty."
"You already say what you can to a man that knows where your heart truly lies. He doesn't believe your words because he knows they aren't true. So, make your actions true."
She dropped her hands from him, her excitement gone. She shook her head and rose from the bed, hugging her arms to her. "I don't know how. I try. I try to love him. I try to show him. I don't know how. He doesn't let me."
"So tell him to let you," Severus stated blandly. She walked towards a mirror, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the thinness of her face. She needed to sleep more. She needed to eat more. She needed to stop stressing out.
"How?" Antha asked him. "When? When he's holding me down? When I'm asking him to stop - no, begging?" She heard him get up from the bed and approach. "He doesn't listen to me anymore. All that's important is the war. I have no further use. He has me and he's growing bored."
"If he grew bored, you'd be dead," Severus stated. "You're not, so he's not." He was right behind Antha, staring into the mirror over her shoulder.
"What makes a woman enticing, Severus?" Antha questioned. "What makes her beautiful to you? How do you know she loves you?" Antha glanced away from herself as her eyes dropped to her scars. "Or the Dark Lord. What entices him?"
"You do, obviously." Severus exhaled roughly. "The Dark Lord and I have different tastes. He prefers someone young enough to be his great granddaughter. I prefer women my own age." She wrinkled her nose at the reminder. "Willingness is a plus."
She snorted, turning to face him. "Have you ever raped a woman?"
"No, nor do I want to," Severus stated coldly.
"It's a difference," Antha answered. She dropped her gaze from him and sighed. "You're leaving aren't you? When will you next arrive? A week from now once he's thoroughly bruised me again?"
"Bruised?"
She grimaced. "I talk back. He likes it, but he also likes to punish."
Severus gave her a cold look that clearly told her she was an idiot. She knew that already. Change in her behavior would make him suspicious. "I cannot tell you how to love him, nor how to convince him," Severus told her simply. She nodded and turned away, moving towards the Prophet. Her dead face stared back at her. She needed to work on her face. Her emotions. If she could fake that, she could maybe convince him. It was worth a try. "I can ... I can show you."
She stood straighter before turning to glance at Severus. "He'd torture you if he found out."
"He can't kill me yet," Severus reminded her. "Opportune moment."
She rolled her eyes. "You just want to get laid, Severus." He shook his head, snorting to himself. "Why would you do this?"
"You asked me for help," Severus reminded her. "I can't tell you. I can only teach you."
"Will an hour be long enough to teach me?" Antha asked. It wasn't that she was adverse to the idea, it was the fact that he was her friend... her only friend, really. Draco was... well, he was more distant these days.
He nodded once and she sat at the edge of her bed, watching as he approached her cautiously. "The goal," he told her, "is to seek pleasure for yourself. It will show him that... well, it will show him that you find pleasure in him. So, the more pleasure you-"
"Got it, just stop saying the word pleasure," Antha said immediately, laughing slightly. She was quiet a moment as he took his cloak off. "Is this weird? We've known each other for ages."
"The goal is that you stop thinking," Severus stated. Antha nodded immediately and he stepped towards her. "Now, kiss me."
She hesitated before standing and placing her hands gently on his shoulders. She pulled him down to kiss her and found that he was quite warm. For being a dungeon bat, he certainly didn't carry around his cold reputation. It was pleasant but he wasn't pleased. Merlin, she couldn't be that bad of a lover, could she?
So he taught her. Merlin, she had never felt so desired in her life, nor as powerful. It was like he was bowing down to her. And it felt bloody amazing. He guided her, told her exactly what he wanted her to do, and she obeyed. Never, ever had she fallen off the edge like that.
"Bloody hell, this is what it's like?" Antha whispered as he redressed. "All the time?"
"With someone you like, yes," Severus nodded. She smiled faintly and rested her head against her pillow, thinking.
"My Vow talks of how I have to be loyal only to him," Antha said suddenly. "Does this break it?"
"It was for him."
Antha supposed it was. Once he was dressed, she pulled her dress on and pulled her hair back, watching him carefully. "I make the change slow, so he doesn't get suspicious," she said quietly. "Thank you, Severus... I appreciate it." She swallowed tightly. "I only hope he appreciates it too."
"I hope he does as well."
They stared at each other a moment and Antha sank down on her bed, her arms tucking her legs under her chin. She stared at nothing, half expecting him to leave. He didn't.
"There is more on your mind."
She shook her head. "Not really. I do this often. Sit here and wait for either him or Salazar to call for me." She gave a half-hearted smile. "He will come soon. Even though he promised not to visit tonight, he will. He always comes to my room after a personal meeting. He either gets frustrated and wants to take it out on someone, or he gets tired and wishes a stimulating encounter." Severus grimaced at the image it painted. She rose suddenly and went to the mirror, staring at her body and then meeting her eyes. She needed to block the memories.
"You're blocking too much."
"I'm not blocking enough," Antha countered. "It has to be everything. Everything I feel, everything I care for-"
"It's too much," Severus reasoned. "Block less. You'll start to unlearn actions. Unlearn proper responses."
She shook her head. "He'll see... He can always see. This is the easiest way to make sure I'm loyal to the vow. The only way."
"No, it's not."
She nodded and satisfied the memories of the last hour were concealed well, she turned to face him. Her face was blank again and the urge to cry from earlier was completely gone. "It's an experiement. How much can I take until I can't take anymore?"
"You're ruining yourself," he reasoned.
She shook her head. "Perfecting."
He tried to penetrate her mind and she immediately felt pain. "I can't even access what you're feeling right now," he stated blandly. "You need to stop."
"I will." But she knew she wouldn't keep her promise. She watched him leave and then sat once more on the bed. He would come for her soon. He always did.