TITLE: The Lord and his Lady
SUMMARY: Anastasia had never thought she would fall in love. She had never thought that she would fall in love with the person who murdered her parents. She had always been dark. She knew and accepted that. But was she so dark as to become the first Dark Lady since Morgana Le Fay and rule alongside the most ruthless Dark Lord since his notorious ancestor Salazar Slytherin?
MAIN PAIRING: Anastasia Persephone Potter (FemHarry) x Tom Riddle Jr./Lord Voldemort x Possible Bellatrix Lestrange - depending upon the outcome of the poll on my profile
GENRES: Drama & Romance
RATING: Rated M for safety and for likely future lemons and almost guaranteed limes
"Normal Speech"
'Thoughts'
~Parseltongue~
Last Time:
"Anything else?"
He shook his head. "No that's all."
He saw her look almost…disappointed?, but she was gone before he could be sure.
Chapter 3: The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix
Durzkaban; 3 days later…
An irritated Anastasia paced furiously in her tiny room in the worst place for an 'abnormal and freakish' child in other words; 'a witch'. The Dursleys had been furious when they returned from their wild goose chase that Tom had sent them on, a side effect Tom had probably, somehow 'forgotten' to consider. A heavier than normal workload later, she had been hauled by her collar up to her room and chucked in there 'to rot until it was time for her to go back to that freak show school for freaks.' Her uncle had then banged the bedroom door shut for good measure so hard that the house trembled.
"The neighbours probably thought that he tripped and fell", she muttered. "Although that would probably create an unstable fault line along with an earthquake."
Needless to say, this 'oversight' had increased her frustration against Tom. He had been rather distant with her, and even though she was ranked above his Death Eaters, he still considered her his inferior as much as the oath allowed. She wasn't able to hide her disappointment when all he did was to give her the portkey, and not so subtly kick her out of there without so much as a 'by your leave.'
And here she thought that he was grateful for her having helped him get his body back.
Another reason for her anger was that she had not so much as received a 'Hello!' from her…allies at school; Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. She considered them allies, as despite her best efforts they had somehow managed to grow on her. Now however, with no word from them for weeks despite her begging them to respond, they hadn't. Not a peep out of them.
No doubt it was Dumbledore's doing and like the good little sheep they were, listened to him, leaving her in the dark knowing only what Tom had told her about the outside world.
Whatever slight friendship she may have made with them, was void and gone now. Zéro. Nada. Zilch. Nil. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with them but knew that she would (unfortunately) have to put up with them for at the very least, one more year.
She licked her lips in anticipation as she thought about the chaos that would occur in the Wizarding World when Dumbledore was finally dead and she could have her way with Weasel and Granger. When the time came, she would enjoy torturing them. She would enjoy hearing and watching them thrash around helplessly as they screamed in agony and anguish as their bones were cracked and broken (like what the Dursleys used to do to her), and their blood boiled and their loved ones were tortured and slaughtered mercilessly like the sheep they were, right in front of their eyes. But for now, she digressed. She was a good, naïve and innocent little girl after all.
In reality it was because for now however, she had bigger fish to fry. Her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be starting in two weeks. She would then have around a year to get Dumbledore to tell her the prophecy and find any useful information about the Order. Not to mention the location of their ever elusive Headquarters.
She sighed. She glanced at the mess of books and parchments on her rickety old bedside table next to her wand, a quill and an inkpot. In her bedside table drawer, rested her prized possessions; her father's Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map and Tom's Diary. All of which she had smuggled up to her room in the dead of night yesterday while the Dursleys slept obliviously, from the cupboard under the stairs, the very place she had slept in until just a few days before her eleventh birthday.
She knew that she was taking a huge risk by leaving them out, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. Her eyes lingered on Tom's diary. She had been ignoring him for the last three days, despite his numerous attempts to talk to her, as evidenced by the diary glowing gold and her scar tingling slightly every so often…like now.
She sighed as she quickly scrawled a quick note to him via the diary demanding to know why she had been punished. Couldn't he have ensured that they didn't? Compulsion charms on muggles weren't that hard.
His answer had her wondering as to whom to strangle; Tom? Or Dumbledore? Apparently, if Dumbledore's pet sheep from his thrice-damned Order came to collect her only to find her being treated nicely, they would certainly know that something was up.
She scowled as she wrote back; "You could have warned me."
"This was the perfect way to ensure that you weren't in a good mood when you arrived at the Order's Headquarters. No doubt Weasley and Granger would have apologized, but they couldn't write because Dumbledore had ordered them not to. I didn't want you forgiving them or even forming an emotional attachment to them. They are pawns Ana. They are to Dumbledore, and they are to you. Not your allies and certainly not your friends. They are simply a means to an end"
She hesitated before she chose to change the topic. "Why are you acting so cold? Before I helped you return to a body, and you needed me, you seemed to actually care about me. Now, you simply don't need me any more huh?"
Tom fired back. "I am the Dark Lord not to mention Slytherin's Heir. When I want something I will do anything to get it. I am always cold and distant. Get used to it. It's how Slytherin's are. We don't wear our hearts on our sleeves."
"Cold and distant wasn't the Tom who became my friend. Voldemort is more than just a glamour isn't it? It's the worst of your personality. Stop allowing an alter-ego to influence you Tom. You're the Dark Lord. Not a weak-willed blood traitor."
"This conversation is over."
She was about to reply, when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She quickly chucked her diary under her bed sheets and hid her inkpot and quill behind the bed. Sliding her wand into her hand as a precaution in case of fat possibly pedophilic uncle, she pretended to be asleep on the bed angling herself in such a way that her wand wasn't visible.
The locks on the door clicked open and the door swung inwards its rusted hinges creaking, before she felt a sudden sharp sting on her arm that was gone the next instant. She knew at once it was a Stinging Hex, and acting quickly she flipped off of her bed and landed on the other side, her wand pointing right between the intruder's eyes.
The lights were switched on just as she prepared to fire a spell. She blinked. There were around six people standing in her bedroom and she recognized only one of them. "Professor Moody?"
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody who was supposed to have been the Defense against the Dark Arts professor last year, but had ended up being impersonated by Barty Crouch Jr. a loyal Death Eater who had helped in helping Tom get his body back, rolled his eyes. "Don't know much about professor", he grunted. "Didn't get around to teaching you much now, did I?"
'No. You didn't', she thought. 'Too bad you didn't die in that dumb trunk of yours.'
She hesitated before lowering her wand. She highly doubted they were Death Eaters in disguise which could mean only one thing. 'Maaaaa!', she thought sardonically, her lips twitching slightly.
Moody was a slave driver, and she hated him. She was frozen to her broomstick, her thin woolen sweater useless against the icy wind continuously hitting her face and lithe body as they flew north towards London. Why they had to go via Greenland was a mystery to her. I mean, if Death Eaters are going to possibly attack you, then shouldn't you make your time in the air as brief as possible instead of doubling back every ten or fifteen miles, then hovering in the same spot for a good few minutes, then taking a detour to Greenland before landing in a mere 5-10 miles from Privet Drive?
They were, as a large sign said, in the London borough of Islington. It wasn't much. Just a dingy and narrow street probably frequented by druggies and rapists and the like. Every few meters, a worn out and rusted street sign spelled "Grimmauld Place" with a number. She noticed that there was no "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place" and that Numbers Eleven and Thirteen were side-by-side.
'Probably the Fidelius charm', she deduced.
"Why exactly are we here?" she asked to nobody in particular.
Moody shushed her, before he handed her a crumpled piece of paper. "Read it", he urged. She raised an eyebrow. "Why? You practically froze me to death and now you want to test my literary skills?" she yelped incredulously.
In her defense, being able to poke fun at them while pretending to be the naïve girl they all expected her to be, was too good an opportunity to pass up.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman with horrendous pink hair smirk slightly as Moody growled at her to keep her voice down and to just read it. Quietly.
She'd oblige. Tom would owe her big for this. She quickly opened up a connection with him via the scar before she quickly muttered the words on the paper to herself knowing that Tom could see through her eyes.
'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'
Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were trying very hard (but sadly failing) to not quail under the harsh glare being sent their way by Anastasia. "Why", she began coldly, "did I not get a single letter from the two of you? Oh yes, because Dumbledore told you not to."
"Annie, we wanted to tell you, we really did", cried Granger wringing her hands. "But Dumbledore-", she trailed off at the dark look on Anastasia's face.
"So let me get this right. You're letting a senile old fart dictate what you can or cannot do and who you can or cannot write to? Why don't you just kneel and stick your tongue up his ass and lick it clean? Considering your attitude towards him, I'm willing to bet that you think the sun shines out of his ass and the air that you breathe is cleansed and purified in there", she snapped back at them.
They looked at her shocked, but she wasn't done. Not by a long shot. "Two whole months I've been stuck at my dear old fucking relatives' place, nicking papers out of bins to try and find out what's going on, unable to study or do my homework, unable to owl-order the Daily Prophet, unable to leave the damn place, locked in my room that has a fucking cat-flap on the door and bars on the window and a bucket to take a dump, while the two of you are nicely holed up here living in abject luxury knowing everything that has been going on. I bet you two have been having a right old laugh about poor old Anastasia who just can't learn to forgive her poor innocent and ignorant muggle relatives haven't you while busy licking the old man's feet clean? Oh don't look so pathetically stunned. It makes me want to barf. On YOU!", she yelled at them. "And don't get me started on old man Dumbledore, who insists on sending me back to my uncle's despite him knowing that-", she stopped herself abruptly.
"Anastasia mate, we're sorry we really are, and we really wanted to write and we would have if we were allowed but those remarks were uncalled for", remarked Ron stepping forwards looking at her sternly.
She stiffened angrily and opened her mouth, ready to snap back but then stopped herself. She still needed them to cover for her, and they would be useful in getting any Order related or otherwise, information that was given to them, seeing as Dumbledore insisted on keeping her under an information blackout. They would no doubt want to make things up to her, and would be more willing to break rules and take punishments for her. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed them. So, while inwardly she fumed and raged and ranted, outwardly she gave a long, drawn out and regretful sigh. "I'm sorry", she said feeling anything but. "I just got pissed." 'Enough to crucio your brains out like Bella did the Longbottoms', she added silently.
Suddenly, there was a loud CRACK! making them all jump and a loud voice exclaimed; "Pissed? I'll say you got pissed. You shouldn't bottle up your anger though ickle Anniekins. There may be some people 50 miles away who haven't heard you."
She tried not to glare at the annoying Weasley twins. She would enjoy killing them too especially if they thought that her living conditions at the Dursleys were a laughing matter. They simply could never be serious, could they? And no doubt the sheep below, had been reassured by Dumbledore that she was simply exaggerating her situation at the Dursleys. And Tom had wondered why she had decided to join him.
AN: I know its just a filler and you guys are going to be disappointed, but suck it up. Life isn't fair. Next chapter is likely when they return to Hogwarts. I'll skip all the cleaning of the house and all of that shit that JK Rowling deemed necessary to be included in her rag of a fifth book. As for my poll about whether I should make the pairing Tom/Anastasia/Bellatrix, while the YES's won, I'm still unsure and just want to leave my options open for now before committing to anything.
Please review. Your opinion counts! Constructive criticism very much appreciated. It helps me improve my story. Flames welcome provided they make valid points.
That's all for now folks! :)
Signing out for now;
~Apex113
Written and Completed: 27th April, 2014 at 1329 hours
Word Count: 2615 words