Authors note: I was going to include this within the "Hell and Heaven" chapter, but it would have been almost 7,000 words long! I'm provoking Voldemort again in this chapter, bringing out his jealous streak and looking at his twisted logic, his possessive nature, double standards, misogyny and hypocrisy. It's never wise to make him jealous though, as carnage will ensue...
I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my great-great uncle, Ezekiel Brigstock (1839-41), whose name I have used for the healer. I didn't know Ezekiel of course, we were born over a century apart, but he was my blood. He died before his 2nd birthday. R.I.P Ezekiel, I'm sure you were very much-loved and missed...SA
'Now count deception, "I have no past" she told me,
Her words ring within my ears and chill my spine.
Now as the rage builds, I fear control is waning,
I feel this shell that is restraint now crumble away.'
"Vicious Betrayal" All That Remains
Monday 28th August 2000
The girl let out a last cry of satisfaction and she relaxed back on the bed, breathless. After a few moments, her hand reached out into the air in front of her, as if she was touching someone's face. She smiled, her lips curving in delight and then laughed out aloud in joy. She huddled herself into the pillow, as if she was curling herself up into the arms of someone next to her. Then she spoke the words so clearly to the person she could see inside of her mind.
'You know how to ravish a girl, Sirius Black!' Voldemort froze on the spot and felt his insides turn to ice at the girl's words. A cold anger began to spread through him at the mention of Black's name. He remembered the bond he had sensed between them when they had been brought before him. He felt an icy shiver down his back and the creeping hand of suspicion place itself upon him.
'Brigstock!' The healer shivered at the sound of his name being shouted by the cold voice. Putting down the potion bottle, he made his way reluctantly across the room and bowed low. He stood before Voldemort trying not to tremble and let his fear show. 'How many weeks pregnant is my wife? When would you say that she conceived the child…exactly?'
Ezekiel stopped breathing. He knew exactly what was running through the Dark Lord's thoughts. Sweet Merlin, he thought, how can I answer this, without placing the girl in danger? He took in a breath and tried to answer coherently, but he began to stumble over his words. 'My Lord… I cannot… I …' Ezekiel winced as he felt the sharp sting of an invisible whip against his cheek. He felt the blood begin to trickle slowly down his face.
Voldemort tried to master the rage that was building inside of him whilst he waited for the healer to try to compose himself and answer him. He bitterly recalled the thoughts that had been inside his head only moments ago. He had taken great enjoyment in the scene before him and had been mesmerized by her. Despite being still lost to him inside her mind, the girl had moaned in pleasure, as she always did when he took his fill of her. She had let out another gasp of satisfaction and had moved about on the bed in enjoyment, clutching at the covers.
Her eyes had remained closed, but she'd smiled. He had been convinced that she was reliving one of the many pleasurable sexual encounters that had occurred between them in the brief time of their union. He had thought back and remembered his early invasions of her dreams and the delights he had experienced. He'd smiled darkly and had told himself that even inside her subconscious he was able to pleasure and satisfy her!
The healer had busied himself with his potions and papers in the corner of the room, clearly embarrassed by the scene. 'Oh god, don't stop…please!' She'd cried out and Voldemort had barked out a laugh of amusement and a shudder of want. How often, he'd asked himself inwardly, does she cry out those words as I push myself deep inside of her? As he'd continued to watch her, he'd began to become aroused and had felt himself harden. Her moans of pleasure had become so wickedly enticing to him that he'd debated whether to dismiss the healer from the room and then take her…what would it matter if she was lost in her subconscious?
'Answer me!' Ezekiel started, and put a hand to the cut on his face. The Dark Lord's attention was back upon him now. 'Yes my Lord…I beg your forgiveness.' Voldemort inclined his head. 'Well then, answer me… and truthfully, Brigstock; I shall know if you try to lie.' He spoke with a deadly calmness now, and it caused Ezekiel to feel even more terrified. He walked over to his papers, his hands shaking as he went through them. 'I have completed my tests upon your wife and have calculated the most likely due date of the child.'
'And this is when?' Voldemort spoke again with a deceivingly soft tone. Ezekiel swallowed. 'I…I believe the child will be born on or around the third day of March, 2001, my Lord. This would show that your wife is between 10 to 12 weeks pregnant.' He let out another breath and then spoke again. 'This would mean that your wife had…sexual intercourse to conceive the child sometime between the…the first and fourteenth days of June. It is impossible to give an exact day or date of conception, my Lord...I speak the truth!' Ezekiel swallowed. He felt that his throat was going to close up.
He observed Voldemort pacing the floor and absorbing the information he had just given him. Ezekiel knew that Voldemort had married the girl on the tenth day of June. The girl must have conceived within the first four days of their union if Voldemort had not lain with her prior to the wedding. He had spoken to one of the servants, who believed that Voldemort had left the girl be until they were married. Therefore his calculations indicated that there was a small window of opportunity for the girl to have conceived before her capture...if she had lain with someone else of course. He could not answer this question for the Dark Lord, and Ezekiel sensed that this was what he required an answer to.
He had heard that the girl had been taken by Voldemort's followers in the first few days of June and he knew, without reading Voldemort's thoughts, what he was thinking. Ezekiel himself had heard as the girl cried out Sirius Black's name from her subconscious state. He himself had told Voldemort that the girl was trapped in there and would be processing her way through her memories. He knew that the girl had lived under Sirius Black's protection for almost two years. He could feel the suspicion emanating from Voldemort.
'Is it possible that the child is not mine?' Ezekiel was roused from his thoughts by Voldemort's voice asking him the question that he did not want to answer. He knew he had to speak the truth. Voldemort would know if he lied. But the answer was going to place the girl under suspicion and in danger. He braced himself for what was to come. 'My Lord…there is… an extremely small possibility that the girl conceived the child before your marriage…that is…if…if she had…intercourse with someone else.' Feeling a concern for the girl's safety, he decided to try to help her if he could, and spoke again. 'But…but I think it is more likely that the child is yours…'
Voldemort's eyes bored into him 'How do you know that, exactly? You are unable tell me the exact date of the child's conception, yet you are able to verify that the child is mine! Crucio !' Ezekiel was struck by the curse and fell to the floor, screaming in unbearable agony. Voldemort halted his torture after some time and spoke to Ezekiel again. 'Tell me, how do you know this?' The man on the floor drew in breaths and sobbed. 'Are you now also an expert on my wife's sexual encounters and who she has taken to her bed?'
Voldemort bared his teeth at the healer and then inflicted the curse upon him once again. Ezekiel's screams of pain and agony echoed around the room for what felt like forever to him. Voldemort withdrew his curse and the torture ceased. Ezekiel sobbed in both pain and relief. He could not raise his eyes, but he found his voice. 'No, my Lord…but…but perhaps there is an incantation in one of my books to show the child's paternity… I… I have never been asked this question before…please…my Lord!'
When he received no reply, Ezekiel found his courage and looked upwards. Voldemort was no longer stood over him. His gaze shifted fearfully over towards the figure that now paced around the centre of the room. Voldemort seemed not to have taken his words in. The anger and rage that radiated from him enveloped the room and Ezekiel felt that he would choke upon it. He had to get himself out of here...he was still in danger.
He continued to watch as Voldemort fixed his gaze back upon the woman in the bed. She was still and peaceful now, still curled up against the pillow, with the same smile of pleasure on her face. Voldemort stood over her, clenching his fists, his eyes filled with fury…and…Ezekiel couldn't believe it. He thought he could see pain in the serpentine eyes. The Dark Lord didn't have feelings for the girl, did he? Ezekiel shook his head. No, he thought, I'm imagining it. The Dark Lord cares for no-one.
He inhaled a breath as Voldemort suddenly grabbed the girl roughly by the arms and began to shake her. 'Wake up now, you slut! I command you to wake up and answer me!' The girl was limp in Voldemort's arms, but she cried out in anguish. His hand struck her cheek. 'Speak to me girl! Did you lie with Black? Is the child inside of you his?' Ezekiel saw this as his opportunity to escape, to get out of here whilst Voldemort's attentions were fixed upon the girl.
He made to crawl his way to the door. But the sight of the girl being shaken like a rag doll and knowing that a life was growing inside her stopped him. He was a healer and his vocation was to heal people and save lives. She and the child were his patients and he could hear her cries of confusion. Ezekiel he knew could not walk away, the Dark Lord's actions could kill the child and cause harm to the mother, who he had spent the past few days trying to save and to heal.
'My Lord, please stop...I beg you!' Ezekiel cried out to him. 'She will lose the child if you continue to handle her in that way! The child inside of her will almost certainly be yours! The girl could become permanently lost in her subconscious!' Ezekiel froze as Voldemort suddenly released his grip upon the girl's body and she dropped back on the bed, crying out in confusion. Voldemort turned around and focused his gaze back upon him.
Ezekiel gazed in horror at the sight of the Dark Lord's face. The rage that emanated from him was palpable. Ezekiel inhaled a breath and he realised that this was to be his last. 'Avada Kedavra!' The green light from Voldemort's wand hit Ezekiel squarely in the centre of his chest. His heart stopped and the life left his body. Voldemort let out a yell of rage and frustration. He had to leave this room…now. He was going to explode.
With an unbearable range of emotions flooding through him, Voldemort apparated himself from the manor. Within seconds he had transported himself into a park. The weather was warm and sunny, and people were making the most of the August bank holiday Monday. They stopped to stand and stare at him, mesmerised by the terrifying figure that appeared from nowhere. He was completely alien to them and they shuddered in fear at the huge serpent that slithered on the ground beside him.
Parents were playing with their children, pushing them on the swings, watching as they ran around, filled with their childish energy. People were walking their dogs. A group of young men were playing football and young couples relaxed on the grass, loved-up and lay in one another's arms. Several groups of teenage girls were taking advantage of the hot August sun and topping up their tan. He moved among them, his robe trailing on the ground. He was oblivious to the screams of terror, the barking, howling and whimpering of the dogs.
When they saw him, they screamed and tried to scramble to safety, to run, to protect their loved-ones, friends and owners from the horror that this creäture began to inflict on them. They felt and they heard his rage pour from him. The last thing they saw before they died was the flash of green light that came from the stick that he held in his hand and pointed at them. They fell to the ground, lifeless as the green light hit them and their bodies began to cover the ground.
Those who were able to save themselves from death remained hidden or lay still on the ground, playing dead. Through their horror, grief and shock, some of them recalled the reports they had seen on the news about a dark wizard whom the government had said wanted to take control of their world. They had waited for some time to see this creature they had heard of. But apart from an increase in murders and some strange happenings, life had gone on almost as normal. They remembered laughing at the news story, thinking how unbelievable it all sounded. But it was real. It was the truth. This was the wizard they had been told about.
Voldemort stood amongst the carnage he had created. The park was now silent, save for the sounds of the birds and the distant screams of horror and grief from those fortunate enough to be spared. The faint wails of the emergency vehicles that had been summoned by traumatized survivors began to grow louder. But Voldemort was oblivious to all of this. He exhaled a breath. Most of his rage had now been exorcised, but the sensations of hurt, betrayal and a feeling of acute disappointment still festered within the core of him. His massacre of these worthless muggles had not cast these feelings from him. He did not want to feel this way or suffer these emotions, they were a weakness and he was not weak! The only way to rid himself of them would be to obliviate his memory...but then I would be ignorant of the girl's betrayal, he thought bitterly.
Nagini slithered up to Voldemort, shocked yet again by the emotion she could feel from him. 'Masster, what ails you?' Voldemort exhaled, looked down to his serpent and spoke in Parseltongue, 'The girl has betrayed me Nagini.' The serpent hissed disdainfully. 'Did I not tell you that these women cannot be relied upon? I sshall always be faithful to you, master.' Voldemort smiled at his creature. 'I know you can always be trusted, my pet. You are likely the only female I can ever trust!'
As he walked through the piles of lifeless bodies, Voldemort continued to think upon the betrayal. He had never felt anger like this in so long. The desire in him to kill her, shake the life out of her and utterly destroy her was overwhelming. She had lain with Black! His suspicions had been correct and Black had taken her; taken what was his! He felt sick at the knowledge that another man had touched her. She belonged to him, she had been destined for him and despite this honour, she had deliberately taken that pure-blood traitor to her bed! The child inside of her, that he had been so certain was his own, could now be Black's!
Voldemort again focused upon his anger, the one emotion he was comfortable with, and tried to block out the deeper emotions he had felt. He thought upon the greater concern he had. He was no longer able to penetrate the girl's mind to find the truth. He vaguely recalled the healer suggesting that a spell or incantation may be found to determine who the child's father was. He had to act; he was not waiting for this child to be born. He needed to know immediately if it was his seed or Black's that grew inside of the whore that he had married. He could not put into words the intensity of his disappointment in the girl. Why did she make him feel this way?