Thanks to everyone who read, fav'd, alerted and most of all to those who reviewed :) (Forbidden Moons - you would? xD)

Also, this is a good time to remind you that I don't own anything, especially not any original dialogue. Go figure.

Tom's gentle fingers where ghosting up and down my arm while his lips caressed my neck. I tilted my head to the side to grant him easier excess, a tiny moan of pleasure escaping me as he nibbled on my earlobe. His free hand gripped my waist and he drew me closer to him.

"Tom," I whispered breathlessly as his lips travelled down my neck again, smooth and persistent as he gently sucked on my pulse-point. The pleasurable feeling was disrupted, though, by a sudden slippery, flittering feel and it took me a second to realize what I felt licking over my neck now.

I harshly pulled away to turn around, but it was not Tom I saw; it was his horrible snake, even larger and more terrifying than normally. Its split tongue darting outside quickly before it opened its mouth, revealing huge, sharp fangs.

I screamed.

I jolted awake, suddenly upright in my bed.

Or rather, his bed.

Panting heavily, I turned to look at his sleeping form. He looked as peaceful as he possibly could, right there on the pillow next to me. No snake, just Tom.

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to catch my breath, trying to figure out what had just happened. I was not the type for nightmares. Even in Azkaban, at the darkest of times, I had not had nightmares. I vaguely remembered that when I had worn the locket for Tom, dreams had plagued me at night; but even then, it had merely been memories, pouring into me through the Horcrux.

This, now, was totally uncharacteristic.

"You all right?"

I turned to him again and saw Tom propping himself up on his elbows.

"Go back to sleep," I advised. "It's the middle of the night."

"Then why are you up?" he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Any other time, I might have felt a bit of triumph and satisfaction that I got to see this side – the unprepared, sleepy, almost vulnerable side of him – this side that Bellatrix Lestrange so desperately longed to see.
Today, though, the memory of my dream weighed to heavy on my mind.

"Just a bad dream," I said. "Nothing to worry about."

He sighed, then reached out to pull me down again. Tugging me to his side, his eyes closed again. For a quick second, I tensed, wondering if I might just have woken up to another nightmare.
But this was no Muggle horror movie. This was my reality.

It had been a long time since I had seen Narcissa Malfoy give a true smile. Now, though, it could not have been more genuine. Right she was, I thought. Today was obviously a day of celebration.

Lucius Malfoy kissed his wife and hugged his son with obvious glee. He was not the only one.

Tom had decided that he had gone long enough without his loyal followers. As swiftly as he had decided, he had broken them out. Azkaban was really not much of the fortress it was said to be.

It was a little bit ironic, I thought, that Rodolphus Lestrange was the first to greet me, while Bellatrix merely stood sneering, not moving an inch towards her husband.

"Hey," he said, hugging me quickly.

"Hey – how are you?"

"Been better," he admitted. "But I'll be fine."

"Good," I said, nodding at him.

He stepped past me to finally greet his wife and I walked over to Lucius Malfoy, who had parted from his son and was now chatting with Snape.

"Lucius," I said. "A word."

His eyes flickered to me and he quickly nodded. Snape did not seem thrilled, but turned around and left us without any protest.

"Are you all right?" I asked cautiously.

"I'm getting there," he muttered.

I nodded. "Look... you need to have an eye on Draco, yes? Cause Narcissa can't protect him and he won't let me, anymore."

"He's my son," Lucius said, obviously offended. "I always-"

"You've done a poor job of it, so far. Make it better," I told him. "I'm counting on you."

"What do you care?" he bit out.

"I just do, what's it to you?"

He pulled a face but did not object any more. I nodded at him and then turned away to join Tom, who was sitting in an armchair in the far corner, smugly observing the scene.

"We'll have a meeting tomorrow," Tom informed me as I joined him.

"Have fun, then," I said, sitting on the armrest.

"I want you to attend."

"I don't attend Death Eater meetings," I told him coldly. "I don't belong."

"Yes, you do," he growled. "You belong right at my side. People are talking."

"I'm sure you can stop them."

"Lorraine," he said warningly. "You'll attend."

I sighed. "When will you understand that I don't want anything to do with your dealings and-"

"When I say you attend, you will attend," he hissed. "Have I made myself clear?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but the dangerous glimmer in his eyes suggested that today was not the day to pick fights. "Crystal," I said.

"Good. We'll meet at nine in the evening," he informed me. "Don't be late."

"I'll do my very best," I assured him sarcastically.

Tom glared. "Don't embarrass me."

"I never do," I reminded him coldly.

He huffed. "I'll take your word for that."

"You're in a mood," I noted.

"Yes. Keep away from Lestrange."

For a moment, I stared at him incredulously, then I smiled wildly. He did not seem to quite understand my amusement, but I did not bother to explain. I just leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"I could tell you the same thing," I said before getting up and joining the others again.

I entered Malfoy Manor, just to see the Carrow siblings dragging up a limb figure from the basement.

"Hey," I called out. "Who's that?"

Amycus Carrow cackled madly. "They say she taught Muggle Studies."

"Poor excuse of a witch, too."

"She's a teacher," I exclaimed incredulously. "What are you doing with her?"

They ignored me and dragged her away, towards the drawing room. I followed hurriedly, dread filling me.

"Lorraine," Tom greeted me as I entered. He was already sitting at the head of the table and looked on as the Carrows levitated the unconscious body of the woman over the table.

"What are you doing?" I inquired again.

"That is Professor Charity Burbage," he informed me good-naturedly. "She's tonight's entertainment."

I contemplated how much it would cost me to tell him how disgusted I was. Considering the audience we had, though, I decided that it would not be a smart move. So I remained silent and stiffly sank into a chair at the left side of Antonin Dolohov.

I found that the Malfoys were sitting right across from me. Draco, as pale as ever, worriedly glanced up at Charity Burbage's figure. It took me a moment to realize that he probably knew the woman, given that she was a Hogwarts teacher. I sent him a sympathetic look, but his features hardened and he looked away.

The door opened again and I looked up to see who had entered. Snape and Yaxley were standing in the doorway, both looking up to the woman in the air with stoic faces.

"Yaxley. Snape," Tom greeted. "You're very nearly late."

The two men's eyes darted from Charity Burbage to him at once and then their gaze dropped, probably out of a mixture of fear and obedience.

"Severus, here," Tom said, indicating a seat to his right. "Yaxley, next to Dolohov."

Yaxley walked over and sat down on the other side of Dolohov while Snape sat down next to Tom.

"So?"

"Milord, the Order of the Phoenix intends to move Harry Potter from his current place of safety on Saturday next, at nightfall."

I stiffened at that news while several others twitched and fidgeted.

"Saturday at nightfall," Tom mused. "This information comes-"

"From the source we discussed," Snape informed curtly.

"Milord," Yaxley said suddenly. "Milord, I have heard differently." He paused, obviously waiting for Tom to say something, but he remained silent. Yaxley swallowed and continued. "Dawlish, the Auror, let it slip that Potter will not be moved before the thirtieth. The night before the boy turns seventeen."

Snape smiled coldly. "My source told me that there are plans to lay a false trail. That must be it. No doubt a Confundus Charm must have been placed upon Dawlish."

"A Confundus Charm?" I repeated with raised eyebrows. "Upon an Auror?"

Snape's cold black eyes met mine. "It would not be the first time; he is known to be susceptible."

"I assure you, Milord," Yaxley said quickly. "Dawlish seemed quite certain."

"If he has been Confounded," Snape said lazily. "Naturally he is certain. I assure you, Yaxley, the Auror Office will play no further part in the protection of Harry Potter. The Order believes that we have infiltrated the Ministry."

"They wouldn't be wrong," I said darkly, causing a swift uproar of laughter on the table. I did not feel much like laughing. Not with a moribund woman levitating over my head.

"Where are they going to hide the boy next?" Tom inquired.

"At the home of one of the Order," said Snape. "I think there's little chance to get to him once he's there... unless the Ministry has fallen before next Saturday, which might give us the opportunity to undo enough of the enchantments-"

"Well Yaxley," Tom called. "Will the Ministry have fallen by next Saturday?"

Yaxley squared his shoulders. "Milord, I have good news on that score. I have – with difficulty, and after great effort – succeeded in placing an Imperius Curse upon Pius Thicknesse."

Many looked impressed, Dolohov even clapped him on the back.

"It is a start," Tom said coldly. "But Thicknesse is only one man. Scrimgeour must be surrounded by our people before I act... one failed attempt on the Minister's life will set me back a long way."

"You're going to kill the Minister?" I asked. All eyes turned on me and I shook my head. "This is madness."

"This is war," Tom said. "If you were inclined not to disturb this meeting any further-"

"I'm inclined to ask you what you plan to do – attack Potter while he's travelling, yes? He'll be guarded. And the Order's not made up of weaklings."

"I shall attend to the boy in person," Tom sneered. "There have been too many mistakes where Harry Potter is concerned. Some of them have been my own. That Potter lives is due more to my errors than to his triumphs."

Ironically, I believed he hit the nail on the head.

"I understand better now," Tom continued. "I shall need, for instance, to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

The room went eerily silent. Of course, no one wanted to give up their wand, it was as though he was asking for an arm.

"No volunteers? Let's see... Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

"My Lord?" Lucius breathed helplessly.

"Your wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"You can have mine."

Tom's eyes shot to me and I squared my shoulders. "I trust that in your presence, I won't need it."

Tom sneered and snatched Lucius' wand from the pale man's hand. "I think I'll do better with this one."

I narrowed my eyes at him and he glared in turn.

"You remember the promise you made me, Lorraine?" he inquired coldly.

"I was merely offering. No greater honour than to serve you, milord," I said coldly.

He raised Lucius' wand and pointed it to the figure above us. Charity Burbage came to life with a groan and begun struggling weakly.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?"

"Severus," the woman breathed. "Help me!"

"And you, Draco?" Tom inquired.

Nagini had wound herself around his shoulders and he carefully stroked its snout. I shuddered at the memory of my nightmare only a few nights ago.

Draco shook his head jerkily.

"But you would not have taken her classes," Tom mused. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage, who until recently, taught at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

I gritted my teeth as he gleefully continued. "Yes, Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles – how they are not so different from us..."

"Severus," the woman begged. "Please, please..."

"Silence," Tom snapped and with a flick of Lucius' wand, the woman was forced to remain silent. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defence of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. The dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance – she would have us all mate with Muggles... or, no doubt, werewolves..."

It took no genius to read the bloodlust and anger in Tom and I suddenly decided that I did not want to see. I did not want to witness this woman's death that she only suffered because of her perfectly reasonable views. I jumped to my feet and walked along the table. The Death Eater's eyes, formerly fixed on the helpless woman now turned to me as I strut to the door.

"Lorraine," Tom called after me, but I simply ignored him.

I couldn't ignore the hissed spell and the dull thud of a dead body on the marbled table, though.