Nina: Thanks.

Black Eyes Burning

HARRY POV

He couldn't believe she didn't want him, not after so many years of repressing the memory. She wanted him. He knew it. How could she not when she was so clearly succumbing to his embrace?

"No! Harry stop it! I don't want this!"

"Then why aren't you fighting me?"

His voice was ragged from his desire.

"Because you're too strong! You don't seem to realise how strong you are. You're hurting me! Let me go Harry, you're too strong!"

And indeed he was. When he loosened his grip, she struggled free, and ran from the room, a look of abject terror on her face.

"I'm sorry..."

But it was too late. She'd go back to her precious Ginny, and they'd talk all about it. They'd probably denounce the male sex, and then end up in bed together. It was what usually happened.

"Damn it!"

VOLDEMORT POV

"Why are you late?"

"I was scouting the field."

"Yet so many are dead. You did not do your duty."

"Lies! I told them what would happen. What was waiting, but they didn't listen. You of all people, sorry, creatures, should know that."

"You would do well to..."

"To what? Do your bidding like a puppet on a string? No chance Lord. I am in control here, not you. Our purpose is similar for a time that is all. Do not disregard my powers so easily, for you may, nay, will, be unpleasantly shocked."

"I'm sure I agree."

Staring after her, Voldemort slit his eyes dangerously, watching her sashaying across the room, hips swinging, before a whip of Sand swept her body and she was gone. Turning on his heel, he walked over to a small niche in the corner of the room, and pulled from it a chair, seemingly empty.

Swinging the chair to face him, he yanked off a silvery invisibility cloak, and lowered his face to that of the woman's before him.

"You heard?"

"I did."

The woman's voice held a strange quality of listlessness.

"And?"

"She lies. She is in league with the one they call the Boy Who Lived. He loves her..."

"I thought so."

TRELAWNEY POV

Turning from the woman, Voldemort's belt flashed in the glasses of the small frail witch in the chair. Turning her head ever so slightly, she tugged daintily at the corner of a bedraggled, faded shawl. Settling herself once more, she prepared herself for the game to continue. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up for Harry. She was not cut out for a job of such subtle subterfuge.

"I won't let him down though!"

"What?"

"It won't be in the town though."

"What?!"

"The meeting for the finale."

So? Let me know. If I can make it more reader friendly, please tell me. Otherwise, comments welcome...all comments 