This was the hardest seen for me to write. I think it came out a bit sappy, but I'm afraid I just can't understand how Death eaters think, so they keep coming out too nice. Even He-who-must-not-be-named...

Part 5 Tears of hunger ~ Smiles of ice

Voldemort felt the curious little girl's hands on his robes, and raised an eyebrow, slightly. His surprise gave way to a hiss of irritation, as Belltrix started to dive for the child. He snarled slightly, and silenced her with a wave of his arm.

Then he turned his attention back to the small figure, that stood, still tugging on his robes.

Many a scream had he enjoyed from those who had made this same mistake, but the little child knew no better, and it amused him.

He crouched down, looking into her eyes, peering into her mind, staring at her in fascination. She suddenly began to cry, softly, very softly.

He considered lapping up her tears, savoring them as a treat, but he might be tempted to gnaw on her flesh, once tasting her face, and he had told her he would merely kill her, without foreplay. And He Was Never Wrong.

Before he could finish his thoughts she had stifled the sounds of her tears, and started wiping her face on her little, pink jumper -

For one sickening moment, he recalled doing the same. Swallowing cries, wiping his face coldly, refusing tears, so he could grow to what he was now. This magnificent creature he had become.

In his shock, he missed the crucial moment when she looked to his mouth before leaning forward. He was utterly unprepared.

And there it was, a soft, fluttering kiss, like the warm wings of an angel, brushing his lips shyly. A gentle, naive, lovely little kiss, that smelled like rose water and chocolates, settling on his cold, cruel mouth.

Something inside him lurched. The utter ridiculousness of this moment caught him off guard. This sick, fool of a child, who would kiss the man who murdered her parents... Did she not hate him, loathe him? Did she want to kiss him? Did she - again the absurdity of the thought made his chest cold - love him? She did not admire him, she had said, but what could move her to love - the desire to save her own life? Why hadn't she run?

He felt sick, and almost unpleasantly warm. This was wrong. It was wrong because it was not wrong enough.

He had stolen kisses, taken them by force, wrenched them from screaming mouths, but when had he ever been... given one?

The warmth of it spread through his clammy body, and it... frightened him. A pair of round, little hands were still entangled in the front of his robe, and he wanted to free himself from them - escape the innocent little kiss. But he didn't.

He wanted to stay.

The tiny little lips pushed against his mouth - a baby's kiss, soft and dry - and then lifted away.

The little girl leaned back, smiling, and nodded to him, ready to die.

She had not been trying to save her life. She had merely kissed him goodbye.

And in that moment of horror, he Hated her. Hated this thing, this naive little creature that gave kisses and memories. He wanted her dead. And he was Never Wrong.

His wand hand flew up, and his voice screamed unforgivable words into the night.

Under the unbearable emerald light, the little white body flew backwards, to land, soul-less on the ground six feet away.

Unforgivable. He smiled. Yes! There was no forgiveness for someone like him. For one who wanted no forgiveness.

He drew closer, and peered at her frozen, smiling face. His mouth curved in cruel, hysterical amusement, and his high, hoarse laugh wrenched through the air.

He leaned forward and slapped the impudent little smile, his nails leaving marks on her pale face, slightly skinning her rosy cheek. Rising he kicked her frail, little body, again, and again. Once again his high pitched voice rose to a crow, like a crack in the sky - jagged and wrong, hoarse and sick.

His hand lifted to his mouth, to caress his cold smile-

Horrified he drew his hand back, and stared at it in shock.

His face was wet. His mouth was warm.

*********

Ellie drew back, content. She had kissed the lips of ice, and they weren't so deathly scary after all. Like kissing a snowman.

She looked up into the pale eyes, and smiled. Time to go. It wasn't so scary after all.

He looked angry, which was sad. Ellie had hoped kisses would make people happy. Oh well. Goodnight, world, and good luck.

The green scared her, but only a little. It would be okay now.

The last thing she thought was happy. She warmed a frozen mouth, and his scary, stony eyes had cried.

She was dead before she hit the ground. She never felt him kicking her, or them toss her to the portkey. She never saw the frozen fields re-appear around her, or the sky growing light.

And far above, a crow circled, peering down at the tiny figure, lying silent on the ground, with a hand print on her face, clouded blue eyes, and her white nightgown and pink jumper moving, slightly, in the cold morning breeze.

*********

in the darkness, Ellie heard a voice.

"Stay or go?"

"What do you mean?"

The voice came again. "Stay or go? Stay here, untouchable, incorporeal, bound to this world, but safe - or go beyond and see for yourself what lies ahead?"

Without missing a beat, Ellie answered. "Take me to heaven, please."

"You cannot know," the voice said softly, "that heaven is what awaits you."

'Poor, silly voice,' thought Ellie. 'But then, even God has to have some silly people working for him.' She would Just have to phrase it so the voice would understand. in the darkness Ellie smiled.

"Take me to Momma and Poppa, now, please."

The voice sounded like it was smiling this time.

"Very Well."

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Sorry.