A/N: The storm clouds are gathering, and change is in the air. Is the Dark Lord prepared, as he continues to drown in denial? I could not resist posting this chapter on the last day of the year (and Voldemort's 87th birthday...ha!) Wishing you all good things for 2014, and I promise more twists and turns to come for Rose, Voldemort, Sirius and Morgan. :-) SA

'I took out the stitches,

But my scars will always bleed.

So dark inside, I'm a hard story to read,

I'll probably never feel better,

But I can always dream…

All my life riddled with pain,

You're staring through a hollow man,

Persecution, the retribution…

Life, death, it's my call.

Hopeless, I was taught to be this.

Want it, take it, my law.

You can call it arrogance but I just call it like I see it.'

"Call it like I see it" - Hellyeah

Tuesday 5th September 2000, 8.25pm

Voldemort surveyed his followers as they stood before him. He would make them wait for a few moments more, and allow himself the time to collect his thoughts. The past few days had been hell for him, and his rages fiercer than usual. That he'd been required to destroy something so precious to him had pained him greatly. It had been a necessary sacrifice, and it would ultimately ensure his survival, but it had left him feeling inexplicably bereft.

But that was not the sole reason for his dark mood. The other cause stood quietly by his chair, her right hand resting upon its back. He hated her. It had been some time since he had hated a woman so strongly, and he despised himself for this continuing weakness he had for her. That he, the Dark Lord Voldemort should experience cravings for the company of a female, that she should invade his head, and his desire for her should overwhelm him.

He felt disgusted with himself that he'd regretted his behaviour towards her, even making a subtle gesture of ammendment. The elf, Locksley had said he was certain she understood the intention of the roses and books, yet she'd sent back no reply. This to him was a rejection and an insult. He'd since been contemplating several ways in which he could punish her, and had now chosen how he would do so...he ached to exact retribution upon her.

She was now here only in an official capacity as his consort, to present a show of unity to his followers. They could not know how this girl had made a fool of him. He had to maintain his reputation and authority...he had to show them he was still in control. Her expression was inscrutable, but he could sense her emotions. She would stand for the entirety of this gathering, pregnant or not.

She gazed into the distance, seeming oblivious to him, and he felt his mood darken even more...she was at the root of everything that had befallen him. Aiming his wand at her, he startled her with a jolt of energy against her side, and she let out a breath of shock, turning her face to his.

'Return your concentration to the here and now, whore. I will not tolerate your ignorance in my presence.' He spoke quietly, so only she could hear. She received another jolt from his wand when she did not immediately reply.

Though they could not hear the conversation, everyone gathered watched Voldemort and Rose surreptitiously. 'Answer me, whore!' he whispered harshly. Rose fought her rage and swallowed it down. 'Yes, my Lord.' He continued to stare at her.

'And?' He said coldly. 'Forgive me, my Lord.' She looked away from him, staring at the floor. 'Did I give you permission to look away from me?' He whispered. She lifted her head back up and returned her gaze to his immediately.

'No, my Lord… please forgive me.' Her new-found submission was refreshing, but it was too late. 'You may look away,' he said eventually, and she nodded. 'Yes, my Lord,' she replied, and cast her eyes back down to the floor.

But he did not look away from her...he could not. It had been five days since he'd seen her, having kept the promise to himself to stay away from her. Now he could allow himself to savour the sight of her and satisfy some of the cravings that had tortured him in his self-imposed abstinence. She looked so beautiful and elegant; the injuries he had inflicted upon her were now gone, and the teal green gown clung to her body, complimenting her hair and eyes. Her body was still slender, and her stomach showed no sign of her pregnancy yet.

Voldemort's thoughts turned to Morgan Le Fay. He was greatly concerned that not even once had he sensed her presence when they had been at his old headquarters. Morgan had seen everything, directing the girl and assisting her to unleash her magic. This information made him feel exposed and vulnerable. The girl had had divulged that although Morgan was still in spirit form, she was growing stronger and was able to wield her magic. She had also told him that the Order did have the Dark Amber stone, as he had suspected.

Whilst they had it, he still remained vulnerable to attack. And now it had been reported to him by Alecto and Locksley that the elf who had been made his wife's servant was missing. All that she would say is that she had given the elf her freedom. He did not believe this, but had no patience to question this further. Instead he had ordered that his wife was never to be left alone at any time - she was watched day and night.

Morgan needed to be dealt with and he needed to destroy the Order. A militia of his followers were now stationed at his previous headquarters. They were to lie in wait for any sign of Black, his elf, or any Order members returning and attempting to penetrate the wards in search of his wife. The same wards had been left in place and he was certain the Order did not know of his change of location. Black was to be taken alive and brought to him. He had great plans for his torture and ultimate death. No man who had touched what was his should be free to walk the earth.

He was also sure that he had now found the answer to keep Morgan at bay…for now at least. The Phasma Obex shield was extremely powerful and now covered the entirety of his new headquarters and its grounds. It prevented any spirit form from gaining access to his grounds and house. He suspected that Morgan had fed upon his wife's magical energies in an attempt to return to human form. Keeping them apart was paramount. He looked to his right, to the empty spot where Nagini usually coiled herself.

Returning his concentration to those assembled before him, Voldemort studied the emotions written on the faces in front of him. Very few of them could hide what they were thinking and feeling from him. He continued to make them wait a few moments longer, allowing the tension and suspense to build even more. The Malfoy's stood together silently, their heads bowed. Voldemort broke the silence.

'I have summoned you all here today to make a statement and to exact punishment upon a follower whom I trusted, and who I thought was obedient to me. However they broke that trust and disobeyed my orders.' Voldemort paused and felt the crackle of emotions from those assembled fill the atmosphere. The emotion from Narcissa Malfoy was the most tangible of all.

Voldemort rose from the chair and paced back and forth in front of his audience.

'I am extremely disappointed that I should be required to gather you all before me to explain my reasons for marrying my wife. I expected unquestioning loyalty from all of you. However, I now know that there are those among you who have called into question my union with her…whispering that I am soft and weak for the girl. Some have dared to doubt my commitment to our cause…and even my leadership.'

He watched the expressions on the faces of those before him, then turned and made his way back to the chair, sitting again. 'Those of you who have remained truly loyal to me… I thank you. As for the rest of you…do not fear…you shall be punished accordingly.' Voldemort smiled his dark, cruel smile and savoured the guilt and terror that seeped from his faithless followers. His smile left his face at the murmurs and whispers that broke out.

'Silence!' He yelled, observing the girl's left hand rest upon her still-flat stomach. The room became quiet once again and he felt the tension pollute the atmosphere. 'Now, let me begin. My wife is not a mudblood, as you have all been led to believe. When Severus first informed me of the Prophecy, I was horrified and disgusted. All of you here share with me that the thought of mating with a mudblood is abhorrent. After some time, however, the thought of producing an heir became strangely appealing. It was then that I made it my intention to learn more about the girl and to research her ancestry. I did not believe that a wizard as great as myself would be destined to marry a worthless mud-blood witch.'

He felt the anger and indignation emanate from her at his last words, and sense her hand grip the back of his chair more tightly. 'My instincts turned out to be correct, as usual. My researcher found out the truth of my wife's lineage. She is the great grand-daughter of Gabriel Mortmain.' He watched as they turned to each other in shock and heard the whispers between them. After a few moments they returned their gaze to him and saw his dark, knowing smile. 'Yes. I thought that name may surprise you. The entire wizarding world believed him to be the last living descendant of Morgan Le Fay who could continue her line.'

He allowed the whispers and murmurs of those assembled to flare up once more. He observed that many of them looked over to his wife in a mixture of awe and trepidation. They were no doubt regretting their show of disdain for her when they had first met her. Voldemort did not once consider that his decision to withhold his wife's true blood status and ancestry had caused this current situation. Raising his hand, his followers became silent once again.

'But Gabriel Mortmain did not die childless as was generally believed. He met and fell in love…' Voldemort barked out a sarcastic laugh after uttering this word…'yes… he fell for a most unsuitable witch by the name of Roisin O'Riordan. She was from an insignificant and impoverished Irish wizarding family. And she was a half-blood.' Again, in his arrogance, he failed to comprehend the irony of his disdain for the blood status of his wife's ancestor. He felt the waves of anger flowing from his wife at his disrespect for her kin.

'Mortmain married his Irish witch in secret, for he knew that his parents would never accept the girl. He was expected to marry a pure-blood witch from a distinguished family to continue his illustrious lineage. After a year of marriage, Mortmain's wife gave birth to a child. Their daughter, Seraphine Aoife Mortmain came into the world, just as her mother departed it. Mortmain was so distressed by her loss, that after burying his wife, he placed his daughter in the care of his wife's muggle friend, Susannah, and left.

In a deep depression, he spent his time travelling from place to place, drinking and gambling. His parents despaired at his self-destruction, and at their family name being tarnished by his reckless behaviour. Within six months of his daughter's birth, he was dead…killed in a drunken duel with a fellow wizard. Susannah became greatly concerned when the letters and galleons from her charge's father ceased to arrive.

Mortmain had been so wrapped up in his own grief, that he had left Susannah no instructions on what to do should she not hear from him. Susannah was young and unmarried, with no family to speak of. She had been bound by Mortmain to keep his daughter secret. He did not have a happy childhood and had no wish for his daughter to be raised by her grandparents. With no means to provide for the child and herself, Susannah placed Seraphine in a muggle orphanage.' Voldemort paused momentarily, as memories of his own orphanage childhood flooded back to him. He pushed down the unwelcome and bitter recollections and continued.

'Those in charge of the institution thought her name outlandish, and it was changed to Sarah. Within three months of being placed at the orphanage, Seraphine was adopted by a muggle couple named Ashmore. Seraphine soon discovered her magic, but was frightened and confused by it. She received a letter from Professor Dippet on her 11th birthday to tell her that she was a witch and offer her a place at Hogwarts. No-one, including the girl, had any idea who she was truly was. She was a quiet and reserved student, according to the school's records. Despite attaining adequate grades, Seraphine's talents were unremarkable. Some of the teachers felt that she never truly embraced her magic and in fact deliberately repressed it. Indeed, within two years of leaving Hogwarts, she had married a muggle and turned her back on the magical world.

The rest of the story is of little consequence or interest to me, but I shall tell you of it. Seraphine gave birth to my wife's mother, who was a squib, with no magical ability. My mother-in-law…' he laughed…' married another worthless muggle. Seraphine deliberately tried to keep her daughter ignorant and unaware of the magical world. She only truly became aware of our world when my wife's abilities came to light as a child and she gained her place at Hogwarts.' He looked at her and her eyes burned brightly with suppressed fury...it radiated from her in waves. He smiled at her and it increased. Her aura was now glowing with a red-brown hue. She looked away from him and stared straight ahead, ignoring the looks from his followers and fixing her eyes on the back wall.

Voldemort's attention was taken from his wife by one of his still-faithful followers raising a hand. 'You have a question for me Antonin?' Dolohov stepped forward and bowed low. Yes, my Lord. I was curious about how your wife's family came to have the Dark Amber stone? Everyone believed it to have been lost decades ago.' Voldemort nodded. 'You are correct Antonin. However, my researcher discovered that a solicitor contacted Seraphine just before her 21st birthday. She was given her inheritance, along with a letter from her father. Seraphine discovered who she truly was in that letter. She was told by her father never to sell the stone, give it away or make anyone aware of its existence. But he specified that it must be bequeathed to her eldest child on their 21st year with the same conditions in place, and that each subsequent generation must do the same.

The stone's continued existence only came to light a few months ago when the Order gave it to my wife; it had been held in keeping by Dumbledore, as a gift from her family for her own 21st birthday. Her mother had inherited it from Seraphine, who took the truth of her ancestry to her grave. She had no idea of the importance of it, or of the power it contained. Seraphine had merely told her daughter to store it away safely. On receiving her inheritance and being woefully ignorant of what she possessed, my wife foolishly entrusted the stone's keeping to Black's elf. She should have known better and retained it as dowry for her marriage to me.' Her eyes bored into his when they looked at one another. Voldemort turned back to his follower.

Dolohov bowed low once again. 'Thank you, my Lord for the explanation.' Voldemort inclined his head. 'You are most welcome, Antonin. I respect you, as you are one of the few to stay truly loyal to me. Go now Antonin, and see that my orders are followed. I have faith that you will acquire the stone and Black for me.' Dolohov inclined his head, 'My Lord,' and then apparated from the hall. Voldemort faced his followers once more. 'So, you now know the truth. I am glad that some of you held your faith in me at least. And I hope I have proved to those who doubted me that they should never doubt or question me again.' He saw several of the doubters lower their eyes to the ground, unable to look at him.

'All of you are aware of what occurred between my wife and Bellatrix Lestrange, are you not?' He saw heads nodding and heard the murmurs of acknowledgement around the room. 'Then you cannot doubt my word in any way. My wife has inherited the magic of her ancestor, despite the unfortunate dilution and tainting of her blood through her worthless muggle ancestors.' He looked at her again and saw the clenching of her jaw. Voldemort turned away, smiling. He was hurting her with his words.

'I have one more announcement to make, and one more point to stress to you all; my wife is now with child.' Once again, he allowed the murmurings of he his followers as they digested the news. He raised his hand once more and they fell silent. 'She almost lost my child, due to Bellatrix's reckless actions and disobedience. Thankfully she and my child are now recovered. Therefore, I have ensured that none but me will be able to lay a finger upon my wife, or harm her in any way until the child has been born. It is an extremely powerful spell that protects her. I expect you all to obey me without question...do I make myself clear to all of you?'

His followers all chorused in unison, 'Yes, my Lord.' Voldemort nodded. 'Good. I now require a vow from all of you that you will protect my son from either harm or capture by my enemies. That will include also protecting my wife from capture whilst she carries him inside her. But know this; my son is my only real concern.' He stood before them and directed his assembled followers in making their vow to protect his son and wife. Dolohov and the others had already made theirs.

He looked at her once more. Her eyes were still fixed on the wall, ignoring his gaze and the eyes of every other person in the room. The news of Morgan Le Fay's blood flowing through his child's veins had brought the doubters back to him. And with his last speech, he knew that they understood his meaning; his wife was merely a womb and a body to bear his child; that she was nothing more to him. This should crush the rumours that he was weak for her.

'Now to the other matter I have called you here to witness. I have to say I am most disappointed that this action must be taken against a follower who has been with me from the beginning. Nevertheless, their actions almost caused the death of my child, and their disobedience must be punished.' He nodded to the two guards who stood by the doorway. 'Bring her.' Within moments the guards had apparated back to the room, dragging the painfully thin and bedraggled body of Bellatrix Lestrange between them.

They deposited what looked like a pile of filthy rags, emaciated limbs and matted hair on the floor at his feet. Voldemort stared at her and found it hard to believe that this mess was the woman he had once taken to his bed, and whom he had taken great pleasure from. She had been such a beauty and he had admired her spirit, her blood-lust, and her desire to please him. He could find nothing to admire now.

The mass before him let out a moan of pain and moved weakly. Sensing the presence of its master, the head raised itself slowly and looked upwards to meet his eyes. The face was gaunt and pale, with dark circles around the eyes. Dried blood covered the chin and bruising marked the grey skin of the face. The lips were cracked and dry. The dark eyes, which were dulled and desolate, began to glisten with emotion when they rested upon his face. He could see the tears form within them, and watched as the eyes filled with sorrow, bleak hope and the pathetic, desperate longing for him.

'M…my Lord,' croaked the weakened, parched voice of Bellatrix. 'Pl…please forgive me, my Lord…I did…not mean to harm the child…I did not know…' He could see the desperate pleading in her eyes. He leaned forward in his chair towards her and could see the hope flare in her eyes. His face was impassive and Bellatrix could not tell what he was thinking. She inhaled a breath when he began to speak. 'It is futile to try to appeal to me Bella. My mind is made up and the decision will not be undone...you must accept your fate.' He sat back in his chair once more and watched the hope die within her eyes.

He heard a sob from within the gathering, and looked over towards the Malfoy's. Lucius was holding his wife by the shoulders and trying to calm her. 'Control your wife, Lucius,' Voldemort said. 'I now know from personal experience how troublesome and disobedient they can be.' Lucius nodded subserviently. 'Yes, my Lord.' He looked once more at his own wife and her eyes were no longer fixed on the wall. They were looking between the sobbing figure of Narcissa Malfoy and her sister.

Narcissa broke from her husband's grasp and flew to her sister. She knelt beside her and took Bellatrix's frail and ragged body in her embrace. Narcissa was no longer her usual elegant and perfect self. She wore no makeup and her eyes were red and her complexion blotchy from crying.

'My Lord, I implore you…please show mercy and spare my sister! I know that she disobeyed you and tried to attack your wife. I know that your wife almost lost the child, and I can understand your anger towards Bella for her actions. I understand that she must be punished, but not this…please! Your wife has recovered and the child is well. Can Bella's punishment not be to simply stay in her prison cell?'

Voldemort studied the impassioned, pleading face of Narcissa. He could not help but admire her courage in appealing to him and pleading to change the outcome of her sister's fate. 'Your loyalty and defence of your sister is admirable, Narcissa. But it is pointless, for my mind will not be changed.' He gestured to her husband.

'Lucius…please come and take your wife away.' Lucius came forward and bowed. 'Come Narcissa…please come with me.' He placed his arms around her shoulders and tried to pull her away from her sister. 'No!' she yelled, letting go of her sister and shrugging off her husband's hands, Narcissa swiftly made her way towards Rose.

Voldemort watched the scene with a mixture of surprise and irritation. He wanted this to be concluded swiftly, and was angry that Narcissa thought that his wife held any influence over him. He looked to Rose, and the shock on her face was clear. She stared at the figure of Narcissa Malfoy at her feet, a desperate and pleading expression on her face.

'Please! I know that you dislike me and my family, and have no reason to help us…but please, show some mercy on my sister…she did not mean to cause any harm to your child!' Voldemort studied his wife's face. She was learning to keep her expression inscrutable, but her emotions still seeped from her and her aura gave away what she was feeling. Dislike…mixed with confusion, uncertainty…and compassion.

'Narcissa,' Voldemort interjected, his voice icy, 'Why are you appealing to my wife to spare your sister? She has no say in any of my decisions! Remove yourself from the floor before I decide that you will share your sister's fate!'

Lucius, and now Draco, came to pull Narcissa away and up from the floor. 'Mother...please! Come with us now. There is nothing you can do.' Draco glanced briefly at Rose, a resigned and sad look upon his face. Narcissa exhaled a breath of defeat. 'Forgive me, my Lord,' she whispered, her voice trembling.

She allowed her husband and son to lead her back to stand among the rest of the gathering. Voldemort was shocked when his wife started to move from her place at his side. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back to stop her. 'What do you think you are doing? You go nowhere without my permission!' She looked at him, then lowered herself into a bow before him.

'Forgive me, my Lord, but may I be allowed to speak with Narcissa?' Her tone was deferential, and she raised her eyes to his, He considered her request, being surprised and curious. 'Very well, I give you my permission…but make it swift.' She nodded. 'Thank you, my Lord,' She forced out her unwilling gratitude and he released her. She bowed to him again and went over to Narcissa. He observed the two women stood together, talking quietly and intently to one another. Lucius and Draco stood together and their faces also expressed surprise at the interaction. He narrowed his eyes at Draco as he saw his lingering glance upon his wife. He did not like the way the boy often looked at her.

He was distracted from these thoughts when, to his great surprise his wife put a hand on Narcissa's arm. Moments later, Narcissa placed a hand upon his wife's stomach and then she nodded, as more tears began to fall down her face.

The two women parted...Narcissa going to stand with her husband and son, his wife returning to his side.

'Well…are we done now?'

'Yes, my Lord...but I have one more request to ask you.'

He frowned. 'Damn you and your requests! You have no right to ask anything of me!'

She nodded, seemingly unperturbed by his outburst. 'I know, my Lord. Yet I ask it of you all the same. Narcissa is no friend of mine, but like me she is a sister. I would not wish to watch my own sister suffer the fate that Bellatrix will...can I ask that Nacissa be excused from the room?'

He looked at her for a moment, and then barked out a laugh.

'How noble of you…showing compassion for the kin of your enemy. You are so pathetically weak, girl!'

His tone was mocking, and she knew that she should remain silent.

'Yes, my Lord. My worthless muggle father and useless squib mother taught me so many weaknesses…especially compassion.'

Within seconds he had moved from his chair, taking hold of her neck, as he always did.

'How dare you!' He spat the words into her face, and shook her. 'You are either stupid, or you like pain, for you will not keep that mouth of yours shut! The moment my child is removed from your body, you will be gone! You will not be allowed to live to infect him with your poison!'

She saw the tightness in his jaw, and heard the expellation of air from his nostrils.

'Your request for Narcissa to be absented is now denied...that insolent tongue of yours is to blame!'

He roughly wrenched his hand from her neck, his force causing her to fall to her knees. He turned away from her, moving back in the direction of his chair.

'No, my Lord…you are to blame. You insult me, and my parents for the way they raised me. Compassion is not a weakness, and I will teach that to my son! Don't blame me for your decisions! No-one makes you decide to do what you do!'

Voldemort had turned around as soon as she began to speak. She had dared raise herself from the floor and countermand him. Rose dropped to the floor once again, this time caused by the control he had placed upon her legs.

'Kneel whore.' He moved towards her, and she could feel his fury.

'Beg my forgiveness for daring to speak to me in such a way!'

'No.'

She watched the rise and fall of his chest. She knew what she should say, but she couldn't do it anymore.

'I will not beg forgiveness for having an opinion.'

'Silence!'

This controlled assertiveness that she now displayed enraged him far more than her impetuous anger. The sharp sting whipped across her cheek, and the blood began to pour from the wound, starkly contrasting with the creaminess of her skin. Dark droplets spilled onto her dress. She looked at him as she touched her cheek. Rather than cry or look horrified, she simply placed a finger to her cheek and wiped away the blood, a smearing of crimson remaining.

He moved to her kneeling figure, and she winced as he gripped her by the hair.

'Have you so quickly forgotten what happens when you disobey me?'

She looked at him steadily. 'No, my Lord. I remember exactly what happens when I disagree with you and refuse to do what you want.'

He twisted her hair around his fingers even more tightly.

'Well then, I order you once more to beg my forgiveness for showing your disrespect and disobeying me.' He could sense her emotions fighting inside of her.

'No.'

She watched his serpentine eyes glow more brightly. He let go of her hair roughly and moved away, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room upon him. His anger was beyond control now.

Even the most cruel and violent of Voldemort's followers were shocked when he turned back to his wife and aimed his wand at her again. Gashes began to appear in her flesh, and blood spilled from her wounds, staining the delicate fabric of her dress even more. She did not scream, despite the pain she must have felt. Small, controlled moans came from her lips, and her hands were clenched. Her eyes remained fixed upon him, despite every strike that came from his wand. Stop it! You are hurting her!

The small voice invaded his head, but he ignored it, continuing to aim his wand at her. Gasps of shock sounded around the hall when Voldemort's wand flew from his hand and clattered to the floor. Rose and Voldemort's eyes met. She saw the tautness in his hand and the slight tremor in his face. He's in pain! When the pain began to subside, Voldemort summoned his wand back to him. He massaged his hand and tried to master his anger. He heard the child's voice once more. You made a promise to me, father, and you cannot break it. You will suffer if you do. Voldemort exhaled a frustrated breath, debating how to proceed.

'Very clever,' he said, loud enough for all to hear. 'Your attempts to arouse my anger are most irritating, and I have no wish to play along with your childish games. You know that it is only the life inside of you that spares you from harm, and it is that which gives you the audacity to speak to me in this manner...you would not display such bravado otherwise.'

'Alecto,' he called, and she came forward. 'Yes, my Lord.' She replied. 'Take my wife back to her room. She has shown us yet again she cannot behave in company. She stays there indefinitely, and is to have no interactions with anyone, and nothing to occupy her time. I know this will be punishment enough until I deal with her properly. Ensure that she is watched closely.'

Alecto nodded and grabbed Rose by the arm, pulling her roughly from the floor. Voldemort looked at her once more.

'I would use your isolation time wisely and reflect upon your actions.'

Rose had heard her son's words to Voldemort and she knew that Voldemort hated that how he was bound by the promise he had made. In his anger towards her, he had forgotten the restrictions placed upon him, and he'd received a taste of the consequences. Rose knew that his change of approach was his way of saving face in the presence of his followers. He would try to find some other way to punish her now, she was certain of that.

Her wounds were agonizing, but she would not show him how much. It had not been her intention to challenge him, she had tried for the sake of her baby to behave the way Voldemort wanted her to. But she couldn't stay silent when she had to witness cruelty, or to submit to it. And she was stubborn to a fault.

Perhaps he was right... that she was stupid. Not even her son inside of her could stop her retaliating. It would be a miracle if he even made into the world the way things were going. Her hand came to rest on her stomach...she had to get herself and her son out of this place, and away from Voldemort.

She looked at Narcissa's tearful face and felt some small sympathy for her. Her eyes briefly rested upon Bella's broken body. She had no sympathy inside for the woman who was awaiting her own retribution.

'It's not only me who needs to reflect upon their actions, my Lord...you should too.' She could not resist her parting response to him, despite the knowledge that it was another thing to add to his list of punishments for her. She watched his knuckles whiten as he gripped the arms of his chair.

'Take her out of my sight,' he said. Alecto nodded and apparated from the room with his wife.

Voldemort turned his attention back to his followers and the task at hand, making no comment upon the scene that they had just witnessed. He summoned the creature who had been given the task of exacting his punishment upon Bellatrix, and reclined back in his chair.

The room was filled with a sudden darkness and coldness. As the creature made its way over to Bellatrix, he saw the rest of his follower's edge backwards, away from the pervading and desolate gloom the creature's presence emitted. He continued to watch as the Dementor hovered above Bellatrix's body. He heard the sobs from her sister, and saw the look of horror dawn upon Bellatrix's face at the sight of her punishment. The Dementor turned it's hooded head to him and awaited his command.

A huge bang and a flash of light from the grounds outside the house stopped Voldemort from giving the Dementor his order. Those assembled began to look to each other, and then their master. Voldemort was momentarily stunned. Two guards had apparated before him from outside, their faces displaying shock and apprehension.

'My Lord! We are being attacked! The wards have been breached...it is Sirius Black and the Order of the Phoenix!'