'I think I'm drowning, asphyxiated,

I want to break this spell that you've created,

You're something beautiful, a contradiction,

I want to play the game, I want the friction.'

"Time is running out" - Muse

Monday 7th August 2000

The refreshing breeze soothed his head and brought temporary clarity to his thoughts. He'd had to vacate the house before he cursed another of his followers.

He had to get control of himself. He had to. He could not continue like this. He desired greatly to squeeze the life out of the girl. Only the possibility that he could risk killing his own child stayed his hand. There were no signs as yet of a life ripening within her, but he could not take the risk.

He could feel himself unravelling and he could not find the source of what was causing it. The feeling had been gradual over the past eight weeks, but it was becoming stronger. And the more he fought it, the stronger it seemed to become.

He knew its name, yet never had he been under its spell like he felt he was now. He had always had control of it before; he could contain it and store it away when it was not wanted. But he could no longer control it since he'd brought this woman into his life.

Desire. He spat the word out inside his head. He had witnessed many people lose themselves to it and it had destroyed them. He had many desires in his life, but he kept strict control on them, never letting them control him. Desire was useful, pleasurable even. But you should never let it control you.

And now he was in thrall to the most pathetic and least important desire. The desire for a woman! He continued to walk the grounds of his manor. What has she done to me? How has she done it? He had probed her mind so many times, but nothing! He had even used veritaserum on her. Yet again, she revealed no information to explain what was happening to him. She retained an infuriatingly innocent expression!

He had been convinced she had cast a spell on him. When he had found no evidence of this, his suspicions had turned to his followers. Perhaps one of them was a traitor working to bring him down and usurp him. He'd called them to him one by one, probed their minds and used veritaserum. It had yielded no evidence of the guilty party who was responsible for the affliction that now infected him.

He had discovered some guilty secrets amongst some of his followers during his searches and they had been punished accordingly. Now he was scouring all his books, searching for what could be causing him to be so in thrall to her. There must be something somewhere to explain this wretched infection! He was becoming lost in this consuming desire and it frightened him.

He had desired her before he captured her that he would admit to. And when his followers had brought her to him in the flesh, he relished the lust he felt for her. He was aroused by the fear, loathing and reluctant desire for his touch in her eyes. Seeing the fear of him in the eyes of another had always excited him. But these feelings of desire and lust for her had not controlled him like they were doing now.

He had travelled backwards, searched through his mind and examined every interaction and encounter he'd had with her. He believed the change in him had started on their wedding night. He'd been surprised by her boldness. She had made free to touch him, to direct him in pleasuring her. She had challenged him and seduced him and he had enjoyed it. Never before had he allowed a woman to do so. He always liked to be in control. If a woman had ever dared to make free with his person, he had punished her for it.

Why had he not done so with her? Why was the need to pleasure and please her more important to him than obtaining his own satisfaction? He was a selfish being. His own desires and pleasures had always been paramount to him. He was also frustrated by his inability to break her and possess her completely. He had thought it would be so easy.

Her eyes still held a fear and wariness of him and she was being surprisingly obedient. She had hardly put a foot wrong since he'd ordered her to kill McNair. But there was something different about her. A quiet self-possession and confidence was evident about her. He could fault little in her behaviour and in her deference to him. But he could not crack that inner core of her. She was not his completely.

He burned inwardly in shame at what he had done yesterday. He had seen her looking at him appraisingly. Intrigued, he had read her thoughts. What he found there would normally have caused him to curse the person for thinking it. He hated to be reminded of his former self and if anyone had dared to ask or wonder what he had looked like before his transformation, they experienced the full force of his anger.

The heat of that anger had risen within him at seeing what she was thinking. But the desire to answer her question and please her overrode it. He did not know even now why he had done so, but he had performed a glamour spell and acquiesced to showing her his original features. She had looked at him with interest and he read the thoughts in her head…'so that is how he looked before….he was handsome….beautiful eyes…that is how my child may look'.

Angered by his decision and her thoughts, he flew at her, knocking her back against the wall. He gripped her by the arms, his nails digging into her skin. 'You tell anyone of this and I will make you regret it! I will never lower myself to do this for you again girl.' The hint of fear flickered in her eyes. 'I will tell no-one of this my Lord. But I did not ask you to do it. You read my thoughts and chose to show me your true face.'

His hand made sharp contact with her cheek. "Do not think I will not hurt you! Once you have fulfilled your purpose, I will rid myself of you!' He gestured to his face, the glamour now gone. 'This is my true form! Now, let us try again!' She touched her cheek. 'Forgive me my Lord. I will not presume to think such thoughts again.' Her eyes still held fear but he could sense the tough inner core that lay inside her. And still he could feel the irresistible pull of his desire for her.

He was surrendering more and more to her. His pleasure in bed was second to hers now. And he was letting her take more liberties, more control. She did not strive to pleasure him, only herself. And he derived his pleasure from hers. In a fit of anger at the tipping of control, he had used the imperius curse to make her submit and pleasure him. Physically he had obtained his pleasure in the encounter.

But this did not please him. He knew deep down she had only done so under the curse. He had wanted her to do so willingly. She was frustrating and infuriating him. He wanted her to want him. Damn it! He knew that she took pleasure in his attentions, but she could live without them and she only desired the satisfaction his touch gave her, she did not desire him! He was beginning to regret the decision to bring her into his life.

He had tried staying away from her. He had even taken Bella to his bed again. But this did not satisfy him and the craving for his wife would become unbearable. It would cause him sleepless nights and affect his concentration in the meetings with his followers. Thoughts of her would invade his mind at the worst moments. It began to affect his focus on his main aims and problems, of which there were several. So in the end he had to succumb to his addiction. He was spending more and more time with her.

And the jealousy he had begun to feel had shocked him! He was thinking of banning her from any of the social gatherings that were held. He had noticed the increasing naked interest of his male followers when she was in the room. Her allure was potent. The sight of the Malfoy's fawning over her, courting her attention was sickening.

Draco Malfoy had felt the Cruciatus curse from his wand for his wandering hands. Even Dolohov, who had never shown the slightest interest in her, was now following her with his eyes. Before they had looked down on her because of her blood status, now they were lusting after her!

Initially this had pleased him. Now he was suffused with anger and jealousy. She was his! His possession. He had flown at her after one gathering. 'You filthy slut! How dare you insult me in this manner?' He had grabbed her by the throat again, desiring to squeeze the elegant neck. 'My lord! I don't know what you mean! She had responded, an innocent look on her face. 'Silence, whore! I observed you with them tonight. Flaunting yourself, taunting them with your body, enticing them! What spell have you used? Tell me now!'

She couldn't speak with the hold he had on her neck, so he had probed her mind. There was no evidence of her having used any magic. The jealous anger had blazed from his every pore. 'I will show you exactly who you belong to!' He had apparated them to their bed, determined to show her who was in control. But once again the fire of her eyes and heat of her touch commanded him to pleasure her and he drowned in his thrall for her. She had taken control and he had revelled in her as she had moved and writhed on top of him, emitting gasps of satisfaction.

His insides burned at the memory of it. If any of his followers knew how this witch was controlling him, they would exploit this weakness. They were already becoming curious about his increasingly unpredictable mood swings, frightened by his increased tortures and interrogations, puzzled by the amount of time he devoted to his wife. He was still having her guarded and watched to try and find the source of her power. He would discover how she was doing this to him, he had to!