Here is the third one shot. This is set during chapter 1 and chapter 2 and is about what Voldemort did when he went away the first time. The vampire Akasha is mentioned in the letters section of chapter 1. Apparently I was going through a 'Queen of the Damned' phase when I wrote this, but I like the name and it's definitely not the same Akasha as is in 'Queen of the Damned'.

I'm in the process of writing chapters 57, 58, 59 and 60 of PWSS as well as two more one shots. As you can tell, it's all going very well. The story of my life seems to be having lots of different chapters on the go and getting stuck on all of them.

x-x

Akasha was not going to speak to him without a fight - he could see that now. He'd caught sight of her in Munich and instantly knew who she was. They'd looked into each other's eyes and seen enough. An image had flashed across his eyes. It was a house, her house, and he knew that he had to find it if he wanted to speak to her.

He drew his cloak further around him, looking down on the fjords of Norway. It was cold here. Maybe the vampire liked that. He wasn't sure Norway was the right place; somehow the house in the image didn't look Norwegian. He sighed, stepping back into the forest and apparating away. He needed somewhere to stay.

The woman in the local tavern eyed him suspiciously but allowed him a room anyway. He sat on the small bed in the simple room, wondering why he was bothering with all of this in the first place. If the German's didn't have anything interesting or helpful for him then he doubted very much any of the Scandinavian countries did.

He opened his bag, pulling out some left over bread from yesterday. He spotted the most recent letter from Bellatrix, smiling slightly as he read over it. She was perfect, and she continued to prove that to him. Part of him was furious with Lucius for not mentioning her to him as a potential suitor. He must have known very well that Bellatrix was well suited to him. Part of him knew that he had met Bellatrix at the best time; if she had been any younger it would not have been appropriate. He was just relieved that Cygnus Black had enough sense to cancel the Lestrange betrothal. Bellatrix deserved more than Rodolphus.

In her latest letter, she had written that she was betrothed again. Voldemort didn't like that at all. But he knew that the Black's were in no hurry to marry her to the wrong man and he knew that if he went to Cygnus and asked to marry Bellatrix then he would be successful. He was feeling more and more certain every day that she was the one he should marry.

He couldn't remember ever being more attracted to a woman. That was the first thing, and he knew that was important. She was an outstanding student and she had already confessed to him that she had used the cruciatus curse. Nothing would be too difficult for her to learn. She appeared to be fearless. She had impeccable blood. He was pretty sure she would drink whiskey if it was offered to her as well.

She was perfect.

So he had to ask himself why he was chasing after some vampire, who probably wasn't going to be much use to him, when he should be laying his claim on her.

He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She would keep. Her birthday was a week away, he would go to Cygnus on that night and he would ask to marry Bellatrix. And if Cygnus said no, then he would kidnap Bellatrix and marry her anyway.

He smirked. He wasn't sure he would be met with much resistance from her. He didn't need to be a skilled Legilimens to see how much she wanted him back.

x-x

He'd found Akasha's house in Sweden. It was simple enough with some tracking spells. He was slightly nervous, because it was night and the vampires would be strongest. He knew some good spells though.

As he approached, he could see her standing under a tree, her purple eyes shining through the darkness. "You found me, then," she called out. Voldemort was surprised that her accent was more French than anything.

"I did," Voldemort replied, smirking and stepping closer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see many other sets of purple or red eyes glinting, and that interested him. Was she scared of him? "What made you leave Germany in such a hurry?"

Akasha stepped forward, and Voldemort could see her better in the moonlight. She was beautiful, her skin was pale white and complimented by red hair. "We have been free to come and go through Europe as we please because we can disguise ourselves and remain invisible."

"You were not invisible to me," Voldemort said, his voice soft.

"Some of my kind are scared of your power and it has forced us to retreat. In my house we are safe… But our supply of blood here has long been extinct." She smiled at him slightly, and moved closer to him. "This is no life for us."

"What do you propose?" Voldemort asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Alliance," she said, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm. Voldemort had to repress his shiver at her cold touch – the last thing he wanted to do was offend these vampires. "We want to be free. You can ensure that for us."

"I am not in a position to give you what you want at present," he replied, frowning.

"But soon?" Akasha asked, showing her teeth as she smiled again.

"Perhaps," Voldemort said nodded. "What will you give me in return?"

Akasha shrugged. "I am unmarried. You are unmarried. Perhaps this way our alliance will be certified?"

Voldemort shook his head. "That is not possible," he said. He noticed Akasha's fangs suddenly protruding from her mouth and he could feel the other vampires drawing in towards them. He realised he had caused offence by turned her down so tactlessly. "I have promised myself to another," he added, hastily. He stared at her for a moment, and then her expression changed and she smiled at him.

"But you are not betrothed?"

"I am not," Voldemort agreed, swallowing lightly. "She will come of age in a couple of days. Then we will be betrothed."

Akasha tilted her head, watching him carefully. "You love her?"

Voldemort snorted. "No," he said, knowing that was impossible. "I chose immortality over love."

"We are immortal," she said, gesturing around her. "Our hearts ceased to beat many years ago, but we still love."

Voldemort resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. What did that matter to him? "When I rule my country I will remember you and ensure vampires are treated equally to wizards." He paused, looking around him, knowing that he should probably try to escape from the countless vampires around him. They were probably starved of blood as well. But he couldn't leave empty handed. "What will you give me in return?"

Akasha closed the gap between them. "You need strength," she said. He felt something slipping into his pocket. "A small taste of my blood will give you that. You should go away, alone, when you are ready and drink it. You will become weak before you will become strong." She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "We will be waiting."

There was a kind of surge of air around him, and then he realised after a moment that they were gone. Not daring to push his luck any longer, he turned and walked a few paces, before apparating away.

x-x

He spent a couple of days in France before he'd returned home, secretly. He adjusted the wards of the house to disallow any entry. He had to think. In his office, he shut the door and locked it, and drew the curtains over the windows tightly. He wasn't taking any chances. Then he pulled the item Akasha had put into his pocket out, and set it on the table. It was, as he had thought, he tiny vial of her blood. For hours, he sat and stared at it. He did not want to become a vampire. But they had amazing strength and this could give it to him. It was a risk.

He slammed his hands down on the table and sighed. Then he picked the vial up and slid it into his drawer locking it shut. He looked up, opening the curtains. He realised it was dark, but had no idea how long he had been brooding over the blood for. A quick spell informed him that it was eight o clock on the evening of Bellatrix's birthday. He swore, knowing he had promised that he would be there and that she would be heart broken if he didn't make it.

He scribbled a message to one of his more sensible followers, Gibbon, knowing that the man would have been invited. Then he sent a message to his house elves, telling them he needed something to eat. He could feel that it had been too long since he had eaten anything and that his magic would begin to dwindle if he carried on in this way.

He headed to his room and pulled on the closest set of dress robes, pausing for a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was very attractive to women. He smirked a little at the thought. Half of the women he met were a means to an end and the other half were disposable fucks. Not anymore, though.

He couldn't imagine himself with anyone other than Bellatrix. He cursed as he realised he didn't have a gift for her. He had to be a perfect gentleman tonight, and for the foreseeable future with her. He knew, in his mind, that he couldn't be like that with her forever. He knew that she would annoy him or disobey him at some point. And she would need to understand who the boss was. But for now, he would have to be perfect. He needed a pureblood wife to cancel his own bad blood. He needed her.

He found a perfect gift for her, after he'd eaten. He'd found many items of jewellery in this house, having claimed it from some pureblood pretenders many years ago. The house and its contents belonged to the heir of Slytherin. And that was, undoubtedly, him. It was a small necklace with a rose shaped pendant on it. It was perfectly Bellatrix.

Midnight was approaching. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few more minutes, thinking about the vial of blood. He would probably accept Akasha's gift, but the time was not right. There was so much of the world that he wanted to explore before committing to a way that seemed so dangerous. He wanted to travel further than Europe, but it would take many months. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave Bellatrix, but perhaps it would be wise to do so before she finished her time at Hogwarts. He ran his fingers over his pale cheeks, wondering how this strengthening idea would change his appearance.

He knew the way he looked and acted got him pretty much whatever he wanted. And he wasn't ready to loose that power just yet.

x-x

Voldemort had somehow forgotten how beautiful Bellatrix was in the few weeks it had been since they had last seen each other. He was grateful that his dress robes were loosely fitted below the waist. Everything she did made him want her more and more. He'd never had this problem before. The trouble was… He was certain she was playing him. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing, down to the little flicker of amusement in her eyes.

All he wanted to do was take her home with him and fuck her until she couldn't walk. He was convinced that she wanted the same. Simple things, like fucking, were made complicated by pureblood etiquette. He had to marry the girl first. Painfully, so painfully, he parted with her and found Cygnus.

"My Lord," Cygnus said softly, looking at the champagne flute in Voldemort's hand with a frown. "I think we can find you a better drink," he said, smirking knowingly.

Voldemort snorted back. "Shall we go to your study? There's something I'd like to discuss."

"Of course," Cygnus said, and Voldemort followed him to a quieter part of the house. Cygnus shut the door behind him, before pouring them both a whiskey. "My daughter is very taken with you," he said, handing Voldemort the drink.

Voldemort smiled to himself, not wanting to let too much show. "Most young ladies are."

"Indeed," Cygnus responded, gesturing to the chair by his desk. They both sat down. "Bellatrix is no longer betrothed. The two most recent matches proved undesirable in the end."

"Why is that?" Voldemort asked, sipping from the glass.

Cygnus set his glass down, looking at Voldemort thoughtfully. "Bellatrix is everything I hoped my daughter would be. She has more than the other two. You might say I am soft for her, certainly that is what my wife says."

"You wish her happiness," Voldemort replied, nodding. "Well, I would like her to bear my mark. I would like to train her. I suspect any husband may not enjoy that though."

Cygnus shrugged, smiling slightly. "Rodolphus Lestrange didn't seem to mind the idea."

Voldemort tried to hide his irritation. "Rodolphus Lestrange, as you know, is not the type of man any father should marry his daughter to."

"He was not happy at having her taken away from him," Cygnus said, raising his eyebrows. "He says he will duel any other suitor for her hand."

"I want to marry her," Voldemort said sharply. "He can duel me."

Cygnus didn't look particularly surprised, and Voldemort was irritated with himself for letting his guard down so quickly. "I have decided to leave the choice up to Bellatrix," Cygnus said quietly after a moment. "I shall go and find her and bring her here, and ensure she wants to be trained by you."

"She'd be mad to turn me down," Voldemort said, his voice slightly cold.

"She can come and stay with you," Cygnus said, after a moment. "She can get to know you a bit, under the pretence of training. All I ask is that she remains pure until you are married."

Voldemort nearly laughed, but he held himself together. There was nothing pure about Bellatrix. "Alright," he responded, taking a sip of his drink. He watched as Cygnus left the room, unable to believe that he had just allowed that conversation to happen.

Bellatrix returned, and he stared at her, smiling slightly as he half listened to the conversation that was taking place. All he knew was that he wanted to marry her. Protocol dictated that he should wait to ask her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to wait the night. As he looked at her beautiful face, he wondered for a second if she wanted to marry him. He knew that there was only one way to find out.

He finished his conversation with Cygnus, before leaving the room without a second glance at Bellatrix. She would follow because she was his.