Trigger Warning: Alludes to attempted non-conscensual sex (doesn't actually happen), but I wanted to give a warning all the same. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

They barely entered their suite before Hermione broke away from his grasp. She was enraged.

"How dare he? That old fool!"

The Dark Lady stomped around looking for somehting light enough to throw. She settled on a vase of fresh cut flowers and flung it toward a painting on the far wall. Before crystal collided with scenic background, the vase stopped suddenly hovering mid air; it descended gently to the floor intact.

"If anyone is going to break things it will be me." His whisper was low deadly.

Hermione faced him seething.

"And why is that? He insulted me!"

"And you insulted me by speaking out of turn!" He yelled walking toward her.

"Speaking out of turn?" She asked confused, "what part of 'we are in this together' did I miss out on?"

He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose the way the headache creeped from around his temporal lobe toward his frontal he would have to double the dosage of the potion tonight. He wouldn't be able to sleep with out doing so.

"Support," he whispered the word repeating it.

"Support. That is your purpose, you are to be silent, look pretty and be obedient, and on ocassions when you are not rolling around in self-pity and misery appear to be a loving and loyal wife."

She stood looking up at him her gaze a mixture of unhinged rage and fear.

Voldemort wasn't sure what unnerved him the most.

The glint of madness or the fear.

What did she have to be afraid of? What was she hiding? His mind briefly went to the whisper from earlier to night. Someone was trying to communicate with her but he had been too distracted and on edge to hone in on the voice. He dismissed it, that would be a matter for another time.

She spoke softly her arms wrapped around her midsection.

"Once the baby is born they will see. It will help everything, it will help us."

He let his shoulders go slack his lips downturn, "there is no baby and you know it."

Her breathing became laboured her eyes now watery, "there's a chance..." she trailed off tears cascading down her cheeks.

He shook his head, "no there isn't," he stood up straight the anger from earlier returning, "and because of your outburst we have to find a way out of this mess or a form a plan to carry out this facade."

The dark wizard sighed heavily as he placed his wand on a small table and began to disrobe.

Hermione watched in silence her hand over her mouth as she sobbed into her hand his words stung.

Once fully nude he stood staring at her his face blank.

"Take your clothes off Hermione." He spoke with no emotion and she could only look up at him as she understood his meaning.

She wiped her face with her bare hands and then wiped them on the bodice of the dress.

"No. I won't settle for you pounding away like I am a mare for breeding."

"You don't have a choice here."

She stood straighter her voice firmer, "no."

It was if a switch had went off and de wasn't sure what it was.

His muscles tightened disobedience and disorder was everywhere. The question of 'how did it come to this' danced at the edge of his mind and in one swift motion he snatched the wand from the table and pointed it at her.

This was a mistake.

It was purely to soothe his bruised ego. It was a coward's move but he needed to feel in control, powerful somewhere, anywhere. Unfortunately, Talbot wasn't here neither was James so her body would receive his wrath just as she had on those few occasions in the past.

After all they had spoken to one another over the last few weeks, months even, with one word everything had been undone, he was unsure if there was anything left to salvage.

Before she had registered she was under the cruciartus, Hermione was on the floor screaming her body twisting awkwardly as it coiled in on itself before stretching out.

Some time passed before he released the spell. She coughed violently dry heaving into the wood.

Calmly, he placed his wand on the table and approached her. He hesitated, he had never taken a woman against her will and a heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He ignored it.

The situation was becoming delicate which required him to take a more heavy hand with her. He moved quickly before he changed his mind.

Tom roughly pulled her from the floor slinging her over his shoulder and headed into the bedroom. He tossed her on the bed and began ripping at her bodice shredding the delicate lace as he continued to yank at the dress wildly. Her breasts were now exposed.

She wanted to fight but her muscles cramped causing her to go limp. The Dark Lady closed her eyes anticipating what was to come.

Once he had her naked he stood staring. Slowly, her eyes opened settling on his. She saw the battle raging within those crimson tinted orbs.

She spoke first.

"Are you going to rape me?" she asked the question coming out shaky as she breathed through a muscle spasm.

"No. The cuciartius was enough for your disobedience. Tomorrow, I'll come to you."

"If I refuse?"

Hermione in a split second after uttering the question regretted her boldness as she witnessed the shift from confusion to full blown rage and for the first time in over two years she feared he would kill her.

He leaned over her body his breath hot on her cheek as he snaked his hand around her throat breathing became difficult until she couldn't.

"Given everything that has happened I have tried to be understanding but my patience is wearing thin. You want a baby then I will have you every night until your womb is seeded trust me these...sessions, if you need to give them a name, will not be pleasurable for me either. You will do well...wife," he spat out the word as if it tasted bitter, "to come willingly."

He stood quickly releasing his hold on her. She grasped for air as she rolled over on her side.

The Dark Lord watched her for a moment. A part of him wanted to comfort her the other unsure of what he needed to do next so he decided on nothing.

Hermione listened as he headed toward the bathroom. She let out a strangled cry indeed there was no baby and there was no them, no her and Tom, just the Dark Lord; his thirst for control and power would always outweigh whatever part of him that remained human.

The monster, the Dark Lord would always be the victor here, Tom Riddle never stood a chance.