A/N; Hello, one and all :) I bet you'd all thought I'd given up on this story. I did for a while. Life can be cruel as we all know, and I sadly lost my dad exactly one year ago. Needless to say that I lost my inspiration with his passing. But, I'm back and ready to continue on. Despite my head being turned by a certain King Thranduil of Mirkwood, (and starting a fic about him!) I never stopped thinking about the Dark Lord. I hope by finishing this story, he may forgive me my faithlessness and my lusting over a pretty, blonde elf ! :D I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read, favourited, followed or reviewed this story since I last updated it, and I am immensely grateful to all the suggestions. In regards to the comments about Rose not being feisty enough, please be patient with her, for the tables are about to turn! Oh, and as to whether Rose will choose Sirius or Voldemort...no comment ;D Hope you all enjoy this latest offering, and I shall do my utmost to update again soon. SA

'Yes and I, I need you to bleed for me.

And you, I need you to kneel for me.

Just one losing battle left to fight,

Your colors will stay frozen, red on white

And I, I'll show how to bleed for me...

The primal state of pain that I'll put you in,

Through sacrifice and fear I will curse your skin,

But still, I crave more than you could give.

A ritual is born in this human waste,

My lips are covered with your escaping taste,

And now, yes, now you can shine through me.'

"Bleed" - Corroded

Saturday 9th September

George stood in the shadows of the room, continuing to mull over what had taken place in the past few days. Morgan had secured them a new location for their headquarters in this old, abandoned castle. The Order had been seriously decimated during the battle, and the memories of Alvin's death continued to haunt him. Had it really only been days ago? Although the horror was still fresh within his mind, it seemed as if it had happened months ago. The unease he felt about Morgan continued to grow stronger.

He was glad to be alive, yet he felt no gratitude toward Morgan, only a sense that he was now beholden to her. George knew that she would eventually demand a favour from him when she chose. She had not saved his life from the goodness of her heart, and he now saw her as she truly was. Morgan was responsible for Ruby Goddard's death, that he was convinced of. And he could see as no-one else seemed to, that she was insidiously taking control. Those that remained were in thrall to her, doing her bidding and taking orders. And Sirius was the worst one of all - he was losing focus as Morgan enmeshed him in her web of lies. George had tried to reason with him, but Sirius would not listen.

His desperation to rescue Rose and kill Voldemort had become a burning obsession, so much so that he was willing to do this by any means necessary. And he now seemed convinced that Morgan was the solution - that she would bring Rose back to him and that her power was key to the Order winning the war.

George recalled seeing the haunted despair in Sirius' eyes the morning he'd been healed by Morgan. Sirius had come to visit him and George had been shocked by his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles beneath them. He exuded the smell of stale alcohol, and his clothes were creased and crumpled, indicating that he'd slept in them.

"I'm so glad to see you well again, George," Sirius had said as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes - they were dark and filled with despair, anger and hatred. His emotions were beginning to sour him, the bitterness beginning to taint his nature and disposition. "Thanks, Sirius mate." Silence fell between them and George continued to study Sirius.

"How are you, Sirius?" George asked. Sirius let out a harsh laugh. "How do you think? We've failed again - Rose is still in the clutches of that bastard, and he's still walking the earth!" He looked at George's pale face and shook his head ruefully. "Sorry - you don't need to hear this right now."

George shook his head. "No, it's okay mate. I know how you must feel. There's been too much loss for all of us these past few days."

Sirius closed his eyes. "Yes - seven dead and eight captured by the Death Eaters." Opening his eyes, he looked at George again, who felt the burning anger rise up inside him. "You mean eight are dead - have you forgotten about Ruby?"

The hard tone in George's voice brought Sirius from out of his thoughts, and his face clouded with guilt. "Forgive me, I did forget for a moment." He got up from the bed and began to pace around the room. "I feel responsible for her death, I should have tried harder to talk her out of volunteering." Shifting in the bed, George pulled back the covers and sat himself on the edge. "Well if Ruby hadn't volunteered, then it would be someone else we'd be talking about now." Sirius nodded. "That is true," he answered. " Yeah, and they would be dead too," George continued.

Sirius, now sitting on the window seat, looked up at him. "What are you suggesting, George?"

"C'mon Sirius? Ruby died of a seizure? Ruby was fit and healthy, she'd never had seizures before."

Sirius had risen from the seat and George couldn't believe what he saw. Sirius was not even questioning the possibility that Morgan was being deceitful.

"You think Morgan is lying about Ruby's death?" George remained silent, continuing to stare back at Sirius. "She's our ally - she saved you from death and healed you!"

"So? That doesn't mean she's telling the truth."

Sirius was standing by the bed again.

"I trust her, George, and with Morgan on our side, we will destroy Voldemort." As Sirius leaned in closer, George saw the burning intensity in his eyes. His rationality and reasoning were being overtaken by his desire for revenge, and George wondered what poison Morgan was whispering in his ear.

"Since when?" Sirius was startled. "What?" he replied.

"When did you start trusting her, Sirius? I'd love to know, because it was only a few days ago you had your doubts about her - so what's changed?"

Sirius stepped back, looking uncomfortable at his questioning.

"Nothing's changed."

George shook his head. "Then why do you look so sheepish? Don't tell me you've gone there with her."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yes you do - she was all over you like a rash a few days ago and you weren't even trying to stop her."

Sirius' eyes darkened. "There's nothing going on between Morgan and myself - I'm with Rose, I love her…"

"You wouldn't be the first person to cheat on someone they love…"

"How dare you! " Sirius moved close again and his demeanour was intimidating.

"Touched a nerve have I? That's because you know I'm right. And if it hasn't happened yet, then it's going to - Morgan's got her hooks deep into you and you can't bloody see it!"

"You're wrong! You have no right…"

"I'm doing what any good friend would do - telling you what I see!"

Really? And what exactly do you think you see?

"I see a drunken shadow of a bloke, twisted with hatred and blindly dancing to the tune of an ancient and powerful witch, without even questioning her motives!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yeah? Have you not wondered why Kingsley and Kreacher have disappeared? Maybe, it's because they saw how dangerous Morgan is - and I think you know how dangerous she is too!"

Sirius had snarled in anger, pulled out his wand and pointed it at George.

"Go on then - do it!" George had yelled at him, his bravado hiding his fear. They had stared at one another intently until a loud crack had ripped through the air and Sirius abruptly apparated from the room.

Now, here they were, waiting for Morgan to arrive and address them. She had summoned them to the hall, the message conveying that she had plans to announce. The low hum of conversation travelled around the room as the witches and wizards assembled talked amongst themselves. Bill looked up and saw George standing alone, leaning against the stone pillar. Excusing himself from the wizard he'd been conversing with, he strode over to join his brother.

"What's wrong, George?" His brother did not look at him, keeping his arms folded and continuing to stare intently into the distance. "C'mon," Bill continued. "Tell me what's bothering you, you've been like this for days now." The sound of the doors to the hall opening made George unfold his arms and stand up straight.

Bill turned and saw Morgan step through the doors, with Sirius following behind her. He had always thought that Fleur would be the only woman able to stir his senses and make his heart race. But Morgan was...was...none of the words he could use to describe her seemed adequate enough. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever gazed upon, and Fleur was a pale and insignificant shadow compared to Morgan.

"You want to know what's wrong Bill?" George looked at his brother, but he was gone...lost in a trance along with the rest of the room...even those whose inclinations did not lean towards being attracted to a woman. Morgan's allure had cast a spell over every man and woman assembled, and she had them under her control.

Except for him. Although George could feel it around him, trying to overpower his senses and make him submit, something had changed and he was now immune to its effects. He continued to watch Morgan as she stood in the centre of the hall, Sirius by her side. She smiled, and George saw the cold gleam in her eyes.

She stepped closer to Sirius and placed her hand upon his chest, betraying the intimacy between them. It was a possessive gesture, a display of ownership, and George's eyes widened when Sirius' hand came to rest around Morgan's waist. She reached up and took hold of Sirius' chin until their mouths were inches apart.

George watched in despair as Sirius' mouth collided against Morgan's. Their was no doubt about the nature of their relationship now, the scent of sex exuding from them both. Morgan broke the kiss and moved away from Sirius, her exultant laughter echoing around the room. Sirius watched her go, his eyes darkened with desire and lust. Oh mate, what have you done?

Wednesday 6th September 2am

Mummy!

His voice called out from deep inside, attempting to penetrate the grief for Sirius which had silenced her.

Mummy, please! What's wrong?

She heard his pleas and swallowed the lump of heartache that had lodged itself in her throat. Blinking, she forced back the tears that wanted to spill out.

I...I'm...your father has tricked me. He pretended to be Sirius and then tells me that he's… he's dead.

Rose couldn't stop the moan of pain from escaping as she uttered her last words inwardly.

It hurts so much, little one.

Why, mummy? Why does father want to hurt you?

Rose emitted a shuddering sigh before answering.

Only your father could tell you that...or why he does any of the things he does.

His presence was impossible to ignore, interrupting their conversation and demanding her attention. She could feel his eyes upon her and breathed in deeply, trying to force her emotions under control. She felt his unspoken command permeating the air around her but refused to obey it. Her defiance had resurfaced, remaining undimmed despite the devastating blow he'd inflicted..

He's never going to break me. Bruise me, hurt me, leave his mark on me, but he won't break me. Never.

Despite her determination to fight and stay strong, Rose could not stop her stomach from contracting with fear. The atmosphere was saturated with ominous expectation and her body's age-old warning system had awoken. All her senses began to heighten...something momentous was about to occur.

Voldemort sat himself down on the bed and seconds later she heard a slight thud as he placed something down on the bedside table.

'Look at me.'

She didn't move and he stifled a sigh of angry frustration, unable to reconcile himself to her continued refusal to obey him. He was becoming weary of it and wished, just sometimes, that she would stop fighting him.

'I said look at me!'

He grabbed hold of her chin, pulling her face to meet his and feeling the taut resistance in her jaw. Her eyes were framed with redness, but those dark amber irises burned with familiar obstinance. He gritted his teeth before he spoke.

'You are the cause of every misfortune that has befallen me in these these past few months.'

Rose remained silent and watched his eyes as they broke contact with her own and raked across her body.

'However, this troublesome carcass of yours is about to bear more than just my child.'

'What are you talking about?'

His eyes made contact with hers once again and he laughed, knowing that his words were causing her unease to deepen.

'Women's bodies are designed to be strong, to be vessels for the creation and harbouring of a life.'

Rose exhaled a heavy breath when Voldemort's hand came to rest on her stomach. He stroked the area and thought that it felt a little more rounded. A frisson of excitement flared up inside him.

Speak to me, my son.

Voldemort used the language of the serpent in the hope that his son had inherited the gift. His request was met with silence, but instinct told him that the child had understood him perfectly.

Do not ignore me, child, I know you understand me!

Voldemort again waited for a response.

Yes, I hear you, Father, but you have broken your promise and I fear you are about to do so again.

Voldemort felt a swell of pride at hearing the small voice speak to him in parseltongue.

And exactly how have I broken my promise?

There was another pause before the child spoke again.

You have hurt mummy again, father. I can feel her heart aching and it makes me sad. You tricked her and pretended to be her friend - you made a promise to me not to hurt her.

Voldemort rankled at the rebuke but forced himself to keep his anger in check.

Yes, my son, I promised not to hurt her, nor to allow anyone else to do so - but only in the physical sense. And when I've failed to keep that vow, have I not suffered in return?

He paused and the child stayed quiet, so he continued.

But you did not make me promise to refrain from causing her emotional pain, did you? It is a lesson to you for the future, that if you elicit a vow from another, you must be specific.

Certain this would be the end of the discussion, Voldemort was about to speak again. But the child spoke first.

Why? Why do you want to hurt her, father?

Voldemort was taken aback, feeling overwhelmed by the raw emotion that pricked at his insides, and he could not restrain himself from reacting to the question.

Because she has hurt me!

In the momentary silence, Voldemort tried to stem his emotions as they pushed against the barrier he had built.

How? How has mummy hurt you?

His emotions refused to be controlled.

She betrayed me with this friend of hers! She should have kept herself for me, but she didn't! I don't forgive anyone who betrays me - she deserves to be hurt, to be punished!

The emotions raged inside him now, and Voldemort fought to try and compose himself.

Why can't you forgive her, father? You are hurting yourself by punishing her - why would you hurt someone that you care for?

Voldemort was stunned by his unborn son's direct questioning and his intuitiveness.

I have no feelings for your mother! All I require of her is to bring you safely into the world for me...

He was interrupted again by his son.

That is a lie, father - you like my mother, I can feel it! If you stopped being bad to her then she would like you too - she only hates you because of how you treat her.

Voldemort could tolerate no more.

Enough! Do not question me! I have no time for this, and you know nothing, boy...

The child challenged him again.

I know the truth, father. I know...

Silence!

Voldemort barked the harsh rebuke at his son.

You will learn to show your obedience to me...I am your father and I will not be countermanded! Do you understand?

Voldemort received no reply of agreement from his son and sighed impatiently.

Very well, sullen, obstinate silence it is then...just like your mother!

Rose watched Voldemort, shocked by his aroused state as he conversed with their unborn child in parseltongue. She could hear her son's voice but could not understand what he was saying. She didn't need to. Voldemort's anger spoke volumes.

Good boy - don't be scared to tell him what you think!

Voldemort, feeling rattled by the exchange with his son, got up from the bed and paced the room angrily, trying to calm himself once more.. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever again regain control of himself and his world. He glanced back to the bed as he continued to pace.

That woman, with his child inside her, had knocked his ordered life off kilter. And each time he tried to regain the upper hand, something happened to unbalance him. Well, this next move of his would see him take back control again - his enemies would not be expecting him to do this,and it would create a dilemma for them if they wanted to try and destroy him!

Feeling somewhat reassured by his plan, he felt some semblance of his control return to him. Moving back to the bed, he sat down again..

'We shall now find out just how strong you are. Your body holds my child in safe keeping...now it will keep safe something else that is important to me.'

Rose's breathing began to become shallow. What the hell was he talking about?

She followed his eyes to the box he'd placed on the bedside table as reached out his hands to it, taking hold of it and transferring it to his lap. Rose watched as he caressed the smooth, polished wood.

'What is it?'

Her determination to stay silent had crumbled, her curiosity and dread unable to contain themselves. He did not answer her and remained focused on the box, tracing his finger against the lock and enjoying feeling her fear heighten.

She watched the creases appear upon his face as he smiled.

'Do you really wish to know?'

Rose swallowed and inhaled deeply, her throat feeling as if it was closing up. She couldn't form words but nodded her head in affirmation.

He laughed deeply, watching the fear flicker across her face.

'Aperi.'

It began to open and she shrank back against the pillow as the darkness that dwelled inside assaulted her senses.

'Don't...don't do this...'

The instinct to protect her son enabled her to find her voice.

'Please...for his sake...'

Voldemort stared back at her impassively.

'This is the only way. You will both become my guardians.'

Rose began to panic, her breathing becoming even more rapid. She tried to fight the binding spell, tried to summon her magic to stop what was to happen. But the magic that worked against her was overpowering. It filled the entire room and Rose felt her adrenaline go into overdrive. It was telling her to run, to get out of this room, but she couldn't...Voldemort's binding spell was holding her fast.

'Quacumque die invocavero te Osiris dator vitae aeternae…'

Dark tendrils of smoke began to slither from out of the deep recess of the box, and she could only watch as they moved about the room, twisting like serpents. It was the voices that caused cold beads of sweat to form upon her skin. Each tendril seemed to have a voice of its own. Wails of anguish, terror and fear. Seductive whispers, howls of rage and cries of despair pervaded the air, and Rose followed them desperately with her eyes.

'Teste ut vas unctus de sanguine sacrificati…' Taking out a phial of blood, Voldemort uncorked it, and placing the phial against his finger, tipped it to saturate his finger with its contents. Placing his finger first on her forehead and then her chest, he anointed her with the blood.

Then he produced an ornate, silver knife, its handle carved with the symbols of dark magic. Rose was unable to stop him as he took hold of her hand. "No! Don't do this, I'm begging you!" He simply ignored her futile plea, turning her hand over so her palm was displayed.

Steeling himself for the pain he would feel, he brought the blade down against her skin, slicing through the flesh. Her blood seeped out and she cried out in agony. Voldemort savoured the pleasure of her pain, whist his body stiffened as he experienced the identical searing pain in his left palm.

Letting her hand drop back onto the bed, he opened his left hand and slashed his own palm. Taking hold of her hand once again, Voldemort placed his palm against Rose's, squeezing their hands together and allowing their blood to mingle. 'Iussit ut ligatis pedibus nobis…'

The dark tendrils that moved around the room began to slither towards her and she whimpered as the first one made contact with her, winding itself around both their hands, sealing the blood bond. The rest followed, circling her limbs and torso, and their touch was cold, making her shiver.

A sudden movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention and Rose turned her head.

Relief flooded her system at the sight of her.

Thank God! I'm so glad to see you! Stop him now!

She remained motionless, standing in the shadows, her pale face solemn and resigned. Merope!

Rose inwardly shouted her name in desperation.

It's the only way...you are his only chance...his salvation.

Merope's response caused her anger to surge to the fore.

'How could you!'

Voldemort's eyes jerked open as her outburst shattered his concentration on the spell he was casting. He looked down at her, furious.

Rose tried to speak out again but It felt as if a hand was squeezing her throat when she tried to talk.

I'm sorry.

Rose returned her gaze back to her husband and he looked at her with a mixture of confusion and anger. He glanced over to the corner of the room and then back to her.

Sorry? You plant this idea in his head, putting mine and my son's lives in danger! The time will come for me to make you sorry, Merope Riddle! You and your son!

'Do you really think you can distract me from what will be? Stay silent! You cannot prevent this!'

Letting go of her face, he continued to chant. 'Sertis ingeri Nostro refusus pectori simul…'

Rose was unprepared for the force which assaulted her. In the moment the last word left his lips, the serpent-like slivers of smoke let out high-pitched screams of agonised ecstasy and flew toward her at speed.

They entered her mouth, and her body became rigid, her back arching. She could see nothing but darkness. Feel nothing but darkness. She could even hear darkness, and the sound made her wish she was dead.

'In aeternum vinculum.. nunquam potest avelli…sic fiat semper.'

Rose's body relaxed, dropping back onto the bed limply. She had physical autonomy again but she did not move. The last remaining vestige of Voldemort's soul had latched itself to hers. The voices reverberated throughout her, broken images flashed into her mind. She felt that she was lost, trapped in a nightmare of despair and darkness.

An unseen force rushed around the room, it's ancient voice crying out. The whole room shook and the window was forced open. And then the room was silent again as the force departed, the window closing behind it.

Voldemort relaxed his body when he saw that the spell had worked. When the blackness cleared from her eyes he admitted to himself that he was pleased, for he would be disappointed to be deprived of their beauty.

She was staring up at the ceiling blankly.

'Look at me.'

She looked into his eyes without hesitation, but they were dull and distracted, present yet lost at the same time and Voldemort experienced a flicker of dismay.

'You are mine completely now. My guardian, my protector, my possession...mine.'

He stroked her face with his fingers and she did not resist or flinch from his touch. But their was no reaction at all. Her skin was cool to the touch and she lay before him still and passive. Passive. The word echoed in his head. It was not in her nature...not until he had made her the receptacle of his soul.

'Do you understand me?'

'Yes, my lord. I am yours.'

No hesitation. No resistance. No glint of anger in her eyes...nothing at all. Voldemort experienced a momentary pang of unease, but dismissed it quickly. She would eventually adjust to the presence of his soul inside her and then her natural self would resurface. Albeit a more respectful and obedient self than before.

He leaned in closer and kissed her, savouring the scent of her that always intoxicated him. But she did not respond, her eyes expressionless and her senses unstimulated by his touch. Stifling his disappointment, Voldemort began searching her mind for the knowledge she had so far shielded from him. Several minutes went by, and despite an intense and concerted effort, that which he searched for remained hidden from him. He snarled in frustration. How could this be?

"You will disclose all the secrets that you hide from me deep inside your mind."

He was certain that she could not resist this command. Her blank eyes stared at him. "I cannot tell you what you wish to know."

Her voice remained toneless, devoid of her personality and spirit.

'Tell me where the Dark Amber stone is.' He decided to ask her outright, certain she could not keep the information from him. She looked at him, her eyes blank. 'I cannot tell you.' Voldemort could barely contain his fury.

'You will tell me, I command you to tell me!' Her eyes remained expressionless. 'I cannot tell you.' she repeated. His hands gripped her head tightly, the urge to hurt her intensifying. But he knew he could not do so without hurting himself, and had to be satisfied with raging at her.'Tell me!' he roared at her. But it was futile, for her reply remained the same.

Flying from the bed, he apparated from the room. landing on the hill that overlooked the cottage. He roared and cursed out loud in the silent night air, until his rage was satisfied. Damn it all! Was he to be forever thwarted this way? It could not be the girl's own magic that protected the secrets she held within. This had to be something else, some other ancient magic that he had not counted on. He paced for a time, lost in thought. No matter, his soul was once again safe. It had a new home, and his enemies were ignorant of this. Voldemort laughed to himself. It would not be so simple for them to kill him now.

A translation of the spell.

I call upon you Osiris, giver of life eternal.

Witness as I anoint this vessel with the blood of the sacrificed.

To bind us,

To entwine our souls together,

In an eternal bond...never to be severed...so mote it be.