Voldemort stepped back in surprise as the double doors to the guest bedroom flung open so violently, the doors cracked and splintered as they hit the wall.
The Death Eater guards jumped back in shock, wands already raised to defend against the fury that had kicked the doors open so viciously. They never got a chance to even incant a spell in defence.
The two Death Eaters sprawled against the far wall, both doubled over in pain and nursing broken jaws from the brutal fists of the figure storming out of the bedroom beyond.
Blue eyes blazing in fury and dressed in nothing but his black boxer shorts, Dante burst out of the bedroom dragging his captive behind him. Wrenching the girl around by her hair, he ignored her shrieks and grasped her arm painfully tight.
Muscles flexing, Dante threw the girl across the corridor at Voldemort's feet.
Breath hard, livid beyond all reason, Dante glared at the dark wizard, his steel blue eyes blazing hotly enough to melt metal.
"I am married." Dante stated furiously. "Keep your whore."
Without another word, he strode back into his room and slammed the doors shut again.
Silence fell.
Voldemort looked down at the naked girl sprawled at his feet. He watched as she whimpered, clasping her bruised arm as she swept her long dark away from her beautiful face. She sat up and cast distraught amber eyes up at her master.
Voldemort tutted. "Bella, I expected more from you. Did you really think you could fool him into sleeping with you?"
Bellatrix sniffled and curled up into a ball on the floor before her master, bowing her head in shame. "I'm sorry, master."
"Dante is in love." Voldemort stated. "You will not win him. Polyjuice potion only simulates looks, nothing more. Dante is in love, and not with you. You cannot simulate his beloved; especially when she is his other half and a Pure Source. Dante in love with another - he will not give you the cheap thrills you want."
The girl whimpered on the floor.
Voldemort looked away in distaste. "Clean yourself up, Bella, and do not try to trick my Dante again. Get out of my sight."
Hauling herself up, Bellatrix scuttled off down the corridor still clutching her arm.
Voldemort sighed seeing his followers moaning on the floor and raised his hand. Instantly, four more Death Eaters apparated behind him.
"Clean this up and reset the guards." Voldemort ordered. "Do not let Bellatrix into Dante's room again. I want him to be happy here. You will leave him alone if he desires it and bring him anything he wants. He belongs to me and no one else."
"Yes, master."
Voldemort opened the double doors again and swept inside, letting his guards close it again behind him.
Buried under the sheets, Dante felt the mattress depress beside him.
"My apologies, my darling boy," Voldemort said sincerely. "Bellatrix has been lusting after you for several decades. One can hardly blame her for trying."
Under the sheets, Dante's anger flared again. "I'm married."
The dark wizard smiled. "She will not disturb your rest again in this manner. It is… unbecoming."
Dante opened his eyes as the sheets were pulled down. He forced himself not to react as Voldemort's cold, strangely rubbery hand pressed on his chest, directly over his heart.
"Still not replenished?" Voldemort said, his fingers spidering over the young man's chest. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to collapse when we returned here, Dante. You really did just drop. Nor did I think you needed this much time to regenerate."
"Killing your followers took a lot of energy; I was very mad. I usually go all out when I'm mad. They hurt my wife and they deserved it."
Voldemort smiled, but he didn't take his hand away from Dante's chest. Instead, he leaned closer, casting darkly glistening eyes into apprehensive steel blue. "Your heart is beating faster, Dante. Are you afraid?"
Dante glared back defiantly. "I'm mostly naked in someone else's bed with a desecrated bastard's hand over my heart and I'm not allowed to rip his guts out and wear them as garters. Do you really think my faster heart rate is out of fear, you filthy, broken little human?"
The dark wizard hissed in fury, his fingernails automatically digging into the young man's chest at the sheer audacity of the other's words.
Dante grinned. "Tell me, Volde – is your heart beating faster now? Is that fear or are you just pissed off?"
Seething, Voldemort took his hand away from the young man's chest. He stood up, straightened his robes and sighed deeply.
"You really are a difficult boy, aren't you?"
"You can blame my father for that."
Voldemort snorted. "I already do." He glanced back at the younger man. "Bellatrix will not bother you again. Anything you desire, request the guards outside and it shall be brought to you. This house is yours to enjoy as well, but you will not leave the boundaries of it."
"Whose house is this?"
"The Malfoys. They graciously gave up their home and their rooms for our cause."
Dante's gaze dropped to the bedsheets. "I'm at the Malfoys house…how did I get in this bed?"
"You were bought into this guest room when you collapsed seconds after the confrontation in the woods." Voldemort couldn't help the smug smile. "Bellatrix insisted on undressing you, Dante. The lady of the house was also here to chaperone, but I cannot vouch for either of their discretion."
Dante glowered at him. "Where are my clothes?"
"Being laundered by the lady of the house."
"Where's Rebellion?"
Voldemort regarded Dante for a long moment. Now sitting up in the bed, the half-demon seemed defiant as ever despite his current situation. "You do understand that you are my prisoner, do you not?"
"Where's Rebellion?" Dante asked again.
"She is safe." Voldemort told him. "Just in case you had any plans on breaking your vow, I thought it prudent to remove something else you loved dearly."
"What happened to making me happy?" Dante replied, irritated. "You've got my lead promise. I can't run from you or I'm dead. I thought you wanted me at your side."
"Of course I want you to be happy, my darling Dante." Voldemort said with a sickly sweet smile. "But let us not muddy the waters – you belong to me now. Your heart, your body, your soul and all of your power is mine to do as I please." His smile widened into a cruel grin. "I want you be happy, Dante, but do not forget your place, my golden boy. You belong to me now."
"I am your prisoner."
"In every sense of the word."
Dante hid the cold stab of fear deep inside himself and glanced around the vast bedroom. "Is this my prison?"
Voldemort opened his arms lovingly. "I am a gracious captor, Dante. I want my darling boy to be kept in comfort while he is not doing my bidding. I am very just that way. As you are to be my personal source of power, I thought the dungeon was a little too dramatic – after all, you have pledged yourself to me, there is no reason to lock you away."
Dante leaned forward on the bed, trying and failing to keep the desperate one out of his voice. "If I let you imprison me and do whatever you want, you'll leave my wife and her brother alone, right? I'm yours and I won't run away, so you can't threaten them - that includes all your followers. Bellatrix is not allowed to hurt Krysta either. Those are the terms, right? Then you can do whatever you want with me."
The dark wizard regarded the young man for a long moment. A ghost of a smile played on his lips.
"You are in love." Voldemort stated. He tilted his head to one side curiously, his black eyes glistening from sunken, strangely grey skin. "A Dark Source like you, is in love. Deeply in love."
Dante couldn't hide his recoil this time. Something about how the dark wizard said those words chilled him to the very core.
He flinched as Voldemort's hand shot out and wrapped around his jaw, pulling him closer to see the flicker of disturbia that rocketed through his prisoner and relish it in.
"Who knew a Dark Source could love anything." The dark wizard said reflectively. "Yet you are deeply in love with a Pure Source – a source of power so much more than you could ever hope to be. Little Krysta is a wonder in herself – a beautiful, lovely, pure source of all magics. I am surprised she looked twice at you really, Dante." He grinned seeing steel blue eyes well with something much deeper than mere pain. "You know that, don't you? Krysta is so much more than the broken little Dark Source you are. She can destroy the world and remake it again exactly how it was; Michael was a God and he created the most perfect Pure Source is his daughter. She is Light and you are Darkness. You are nothing but an empty void compared to her. What on earth did she see in you?"
His heart inexplicably pounding, Dante pulled away out of Voldemort's grip and glared at him. The dark wizard chuckled cruelly at the agony he had created in the other.
"Those are the terms so long as you are under my control." Voldemort stated, composing himself. "Neither of the Potter children will be harmed on my orders as per the contract for your servitude."
Dante hid the wave of relief that flooded him.
"And I will be keeping Rebellion until I have use of your power, just as an added insurance." Voldemort sauntered to the doors. "Rest, Dante. I was so looking forward to using your power tonight in full force, but I have waited several decades for you already, what's another night to replenish your power to full might? Rest."
As the doors clicked closed, Dante lay down on the bed again and stared up at the dark ceiling as all light left the room. It was nightfall now. The last thing he remembered was disappparating with Voldemort that morning in the forest once all the hostages had been magicked away to safety.
He hadn't meant to collapse, but the power drain had been sudden and absolute. He would not have been able to hold off the effects for more than a few minutes – and now he had no idea how long he could keep up this pretence for.
It has been such a stupid idea, but he really had had no other option at that moment.
Dante tried very hard to quell the rising panic, but it was much more difficult to do than ever before. He had never been in this situation before.
Pulling the sheets over him completely, he sank into the security of the soft bed and tried very, very hard to calm himself down.
It only took a few minutes for the fatigue of the power drain to grip him again. everything ached, everything cell of him was exhausted beyond belief; he couldn't hold out anymore. As the darkness closed in, dragging him into its merciless embrace, he considered the very new, raw feeling of being scared.
He really didn't like it.