TW: Mention of gore (no detail), one-sided attraction between a minor and an adult
Disclaimer: I do not, nor will ever, own the Harry Potter series, or any of its characters and plots.
Rose
The food tasted like ash on her tongue, but she continued to eat.
It had been almost a week since the Ministry, but she was still being held captive. Voldemort's knee bumped against hers under the table, and though she knew he probably meant nothing by it, she still flinched.
"Are you alright, Rose?"
Mr Aeson emphasized her name in a way she didn't understand.
She set down her fork, looking up at him. The gentle expression on his face only made her hate him more.
"I'm fine." She said sharply, and then looked at Voldemort. "May I be excused? I'd like to think over the list." She asked as politely as she could.
He studied her for a long moment before he nodded, waving her off.
She stood, leaving before he could change his mind. He was prone to do that if she dallied.
The walk back to her room was short, not helping at all with her befuddled thoughts.
She longed for freedom but knew that she would never be able to escape alone.
Mr Aeson was a viable accomplice, but how was she to know if he could really be trusted? He might just rat her out, and Voldemort would just throw her in the dungeons.
Rose sat on the edge of her bed, staring through the open doorway into the mirror over the bathroom sink. She looked worn, and she wasn't surprised.
Every day, she suffered through hours of borderline interrogations by Mr Aeson, and then had to spend the rest of the time in the sights of Voldemort or – even worse – his clingy serpent.
Even now, the snake was curled up in front of the fire, basking in the warmth while Rose fought to keep her magic from exploding out of her.
Ever since the Ministry, it'd been unpredictable. She thought Voldemort was going to kill her the first time she broke a glass after one of his Death Eaters spoke about overturning Hogwarts and ridding it of the 'mudbloods' and 'bloodtraitors'. As it was, he merely observed her before ignoring her altogether.
That was another thing. Voldemort rarely acknowledged her verbally, but he was always watching her. Staring. Like he was trying to figure out a way into her mind, to control her to do his bidding.
Well, Rose thought, if he wanted to control her, he'd have to find another way.
A strange sort of anger overtook her then, and she stood up, walking towards the mirror. With a single swing, she shattered it, slicing open her knuckles in the process.
The pain made the fuzziness of her thoughts soften enough for her to realize what she'd just done.
She turned to watch the snake slither from the room, deciding that she was going to be screwed either way. With a cry of rage, she hit the mirror again, splattering blood and making the cracks grow. Her vision tinged red, adrenaline making the pain bearable.
By the time she felt Mr Aeson's arms around her, for Voldemort would've never touched her without her scar burning, she could no longer see her reflection through the cracks and blood.
"Don't stupefy her, my Lord." She heard the mindhealer say.
It was the first time that she heard someone give Voldemort an order and was even more surprised when Mr Aeson wasn't immediately killed for it.
"Stupid girl!" Voldemort sneered, and she was suddenly spun around.
Mr Aeson released her as Voldemort pushed her back onto the end of the bed. He snatched up her wrists, ignoring her wince of pain.
"Leave us." He snapped at Mr Aeson, who looked ready to protest before he turned, striding from the room.
Voldemort waved his hand, conjuring a chair. He sat down in front of her, still holding her wrists in a death grip.
"If you wanted to hurt yourself, I would've done so with less trouble." He hissed, glaring into her eyes.
She glared back, trying to pull her arms away to no avail.
"You should've killed me when you had the chance!" She returned harshly.
"Do not speak to our Master like that, Sister!" The snake flicked her tongue out, brushing against her neck.
"I'm not your sister! Stop calling me that!" Rose replied instantly.
The snake twisted her body around, so they were face-to-face.
"And he's not my Master!" She added as an afterthought.
"Not yet. You're not ready yet." The snake said and gave a snake equivalent to a smirk before she slithered back to her place by the fire.
Rose tensed with anger, preparing to respond, only for Voldemort to flick his finger.
When she tried to speak, no sound came out. Her head throbbed with anger, but he ignored her, beginning the painstakingly long task of pulling shards of glass from her hands.
She briefly wondered why he didn't just use magic and concluded that he wanted her to suffer as much as she could from the task.
As he worked, the anger slowly faded to a dull apathy, leaving her exhausted.
By the time the last shard was removed from her hands, she was on the edge of consciousness, watching him through lidded eyes. She swore she heard him snort before he waved his hands, healing her hands in an instant.
"I'm sorry…" She whispered, reaching out to grab his arm when he moved.
Her drowsy mind barely realized that he'd relieved her of the silencing charm.
"Like I said, if you wished to be hurt, I have no problem complying." Voldemort returned coldly.
She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Thank you…" She mumbled, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
He smelled like pine, like he was traipsing through the forest all day.
Rose was asleep instantly, too exhausted from her emotional rollercoaster to recognize his arms coming around her.
Voldemort smirked down at the sleeping girl, and then looked at Nagini.
"Soon. Soon she will be mine." He hissed softly.
Alani
She giggled as she ran through the garden Mr Aeson and Voldemort had formed for her, chasing after the small, white rabbit that seemed intent on evading her.
The tables and chairs of the study had been vanished, replaced with tall grasses and beautiful flowers that sparkled enchantingly. The books were turned into butterflies, birds, and other small creatures that would catch a young girl's fancy.
Alani was at peace, content to chase after her stubborn rabbit, whilst the older two men spoke about her. The words they were saying didn't making any sense to her ears, merely a gentle background lull.
"It appears that there are seven total, in addition to Rose herself." Mr Aeson said under the cover of the language distortion ward.
His violet eyes watched the girl prance about in the field they'd conjured for her.
"Seven breaks of magic, beginning shortly after her first birthday, with the most recent being about a week and a half ago. I suspect that was when you retrieved her from the Ministry?" He asked, and Voldemort nodded silently, his eyes also on the last living Potter.
His face was blank, not conveying his surprise. Seven parts? That was a bit too coincidental.
"It does not look like any of them are aware of the others, with Jareb being the exception, so far. From what you showed me of the person in the Ministry, I'd suggest they had no awareness that they weren't the 'host' of the body, so-to-speak."
Alani finally caught the rabbit, giggling as she held it tightly against herself. She looked up at them, as if searching for approval, before she became distracted again as the rabbit leaped from her arms.
"Is there any sign that a merging could take place in the near future? She is of little use to me if she cannot be stabilized mentally." Voldemort asked, finally turning his eyes to Mr Aeson, who swallowed heavily under the gaze.
"I think… such a task would be detrimental to her sanity should it be forced."
It took every ounce of courage for him not to stammer. He forced himself to focus, a little pucker appearing between his eyebrows as he thought.
"However, there are two other options. One would involve a small ritual that would connect their mind to yours. You would have full access to their thoughts, emotions, et cetera. The only requirement would be the willingness of the most dominant part, in this case, Rose." He paused, and then grimaced. "Of course, there is always a chance that it would backfire, destroying both of you in the process."
Voldemort leaned forward, his gaze narrowing on Mr Aeson's. The dark-haired man flinched, lowering his eyes.
"There is another way, but it is far more unpredictable." When Voldemort didn't respond, he whispered, "You could enlist the help of your Horcrux."
Voldemort's smile was cold as he leaned back, and Mr Aeson barely hid his sigh of relief, glancing at Alani.
The girl had been strangely silent, and as he looked at her, he realized why.
She stood still, her eyes unfocused and her face blank. If that wasn't horrifying enough, the rabbit that she'd been playing with lie at her feet, decapitated.
The bloody head was gripped tightly between her hands.
Vema
The head of the rabbit hit the ground the moment Mr Aeson gasped.
She turned her head, looking at his shocked expression before he quickly hid it. With a wave of his wand, the study was back to normal.
The blood was gone.
"Hello." She said softly.
"Hello, my name is Mr Aeson." He tried (and failed) to sound nonchalant.
"I know." She walked forward, her eyes remaining on his face. "You're our healer."
She stopped before she hit his knees, looking down at him briefly before she crouched so they were face-to-face.
"What is your name?" He asked stiffly, looking ready to push her away.
She smiled.
"He always called me Vema." She breathed, and reached out her hand, running her nails gently down his neck.
"Who is 'he'?"
Mr Aeson was uncomfortable, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes that made her want to push even closer.
She played with the collar of his shirt, so close to him now that she could feel every brush of his breath against her lips. The sensation sent tingles down her spine.
"Too easy." She murmured and plucked his wand from the holster, pressing the tip of it into his neck.
His eyes widened, his pupils dilating in fear, and she laughed breathlessly, her other hand moving up to cup his cheek.
"You can't save us." She told him, her voice barely audible even in the silent room.
Mr Aeson lifted his hands, probably to push her off, but one glance to her right, and he stilled, letting his hands fall.
"I'm not here to save you." He said instead, seeming to regain control over himself.
"Vema." Voldemort spoke for the first time, and the strictness in his tone made her look at him.
"Master." She hissed with a smirk, watching as he visibly drew back like she'd slapped him.
Mr Aeson inhaled sharply at their exchange, looking paler by the second, but it was no longer fun for Vema.
The second she'd spoken that word, she'd begun to feel a piercing pain in her forehead. She lifted her hand, only to pull it back when she felt wetness beneath her bangs. Her fingers were covered in her own blood.
"Cute." She said as she backed up, erecting a shield around herself with Mr Aeson's wand.
It was weaker than it would've been if she'd had her own wand, but it would do.
Voldemort rose from his chair, staring at her. Blood dripped down the side of her face, but she ignored it, lifting the wand to her forehead.
"This is for you, dear." She sneered at him. "Avada Ked-!"
"No!" Mr Aeson shouted, but it was Voldemort who reacted, slashing his arm down through the air.
The shield dissipated instantly. A force slammed into Vema's chest, making her hit the wall behind her. The magic that flowed over her skin felt like silk, making her skin prickle pleasantly.
"Ah…" She gasped, her head falling back.
She barely heard the click of the wand against the floor.
Voldemort approached her, his face completely blank, but his eyes narrowed in anger.
"After all I've done for you, you dare to kill yourself?" He hissed furiously.
She laughed breathlessly, thankful for the magic pinning her against the wall. If she'd been standing, she might've been a puddle of goo on the floor by now. As it was, she couldn't seem to form words to respond with.
Voldemort was close to her now, his face level with hers. She felt like a right whore, unable to control her breathing with him so close.
"I ought to kill you." He murmured, glaring into her eyes.
"Mmm… I dare you." She managed to say, her fingers twitching to touch him.
He was intoxicating, making her thoughts fuzzy.
He lifted his hand, brushing away a drop of blood as it ran down the side of her face. She turned her head, pressing her lips against his thumb before he could pull it away. She smiled at the blank look on his face, the metallic taste of her blood on her lips.
A/N: Thanks for reading; reviews are always appreciated!