Ldub: Thanks for reviewing! She might not want to know... I went back and looked, and I think I'm gonna leave it but only because he talks about all of that happening early in the year. He's specifically talking about when she got pregnant rather than when she gave birth. But thanks for the head's up! I appreciate how you catch typos and let me know about other mistakes I've made, it's really helpful!

PineappleBearr: Thanks for reviewing! I can't say what Rodolphus might or might not know, haha. I'm glad you liked the chapter!

EmilyCMalfoy: Thanks for reviewing! I feel really bad for Charlotte. She doesn't deserve anything I've put her through :( I'm glad you liked the little backstory between Bellatrix and Rodolphus! Yeah, you're in the pre-teen age. I don't remember much from when I was that age, honestly. Really bad memory. Why do they call you Dora? I live in the US

Hawknest143: Thanks for reviewing! Haha, my lips are sealed about how their friendship might develop (or possibly regress)! I also can't say if Rodolphus knows or not! No spoilers here, lol

Guest: Thanks for reviewing! Here's the update!

CHAPTER 23

I walk to the middle of the room and stop, crossing my arms in a way of defiance against Voldemort and this disturbing duty he is forcing me to go through. The far door opens not long after I enter, and in walks the Dark Lord himself. "Charlotte," he greets me coldly, "I can see the fight has not left your spirit."

"I can see that you still expect me to stop fighting."

He takes a step closer to me, his red eyes full of hate. "I assume you had a rather interesting afternoon with your father?" he asks, smiling cruelly. "I cannot imagine how hard it must have been for you not to tell him the truth. He is such a charming man."

So that explains why he had my father watching over me. Voldemort wanted to torture me just a bit, which makes much more sense now. But I will not fall into the trap and become upset with him. My will is stronger than that, as I have proven in my Occlumency lessons.

I put my frustration aside, take a short breath, and ask the only thing I need to know right now, "Why do you want a child? I mean, why am I even going through this?"

The Dark Lord watches me for a moment, an odd look on his face as if he's surprised by my question and is debating whether or not to actually answer my question. "I have gone to extreme measures to preserve my immortality," he says some time later. "The child will be nothing more than a stepping stone through which I will maintain my immortal reign over the Wizarding World."

"Immortal?" I ask doubtfully. "Is that even possible?"

"Complex Dark Magic," he says, "magic with which you needn't worry yourself."

Which most likely means that he does not trust me to know what all he has done. I ignore that and let this new information sink in for a second. "So…it...it's not an heir you seek? You lied when you introduced me to the Inner Circle?"

"What use would I have of an heir when I will never die?"

There's a reason he's telling you this, you need to stop asking questions. You don't want to know the truth. He wouldn't be willing to tell you unless he wants to hurt you. "How many of them know the truth?" He watches me silently, so I continue with, "Are you going to kill her in some profane ritual to keep your…immortality?" I'm not really sure why I chose the feminine form—it just slipped out. Perhaps it is because deep down, if I must have this child, I want a daughter, a daughter I can love in ways that I have only recently experienced.

Voldemort chuckles, and the hair on the back of my neck rises. "Dear one," he says, "if the child is a female, I will have no choice but to rid the world of her."

"…what?"

"It is a male I desire. Therefore only a male may survive."

"If you don't want an heir, why does it need to be a male? That doesn't make sense!" Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop. You don't want to know, you don't want to know. He wouldn't share this much with you unless he knew it was going to hurt you. "You're just going to kill my daughter if—"

"If my body is destroyed again, I will need another ready for my return. What better solution than to have a son, through whose veins my blood runs, in whom a piece of my soul might rest until my return?"

I take a short breath, my body going cold. My son, if I have him, will be nothing more than a vessel used for Voldemort's return. He will be nothing in the eyes of the Dark Lord, nothing but a tool to secure his immortality. My heart aches in my chest. Every breath hurts. "So my son will be as good as dead?"

"Your son?"

"Yes. My son. Will you kill him?"

"He is not the one who will lose his life," Voldemort says.

"Then…who—"

"When you give birth to the child and he is grown enough that he no longer needs your care—"

"A child will always need a mother's care," I interject, knowing how deeply I always wanted and needed my own mother's care but was unable to have it until so recently.

"Emotionally and mentally perhaps, but physically he will not. And when he physically needs you no longer, you will make it possible for him to accomplish his purpose. But you mustn't worry about the boy. He will have others who will fill the void left behind when you are no longer around."

My chest aches, making breathing difficult. "You..." I close my eyes, fighting back the anger and sorrow trying to take over my once again. "You're going to kill me?"

He takes a step closer to me. "You will have performed your task valiantly, but through your death, you will have fulfilled everything of you that I desire."

I move away from him. "Does my mother know about this? About you planning to kill me?"

"She does not know the full extent of your duty. But do you think that she will turn against me…for you?"

I bite my tongue, because I know that he has a point. There's a very small chance that Bellatrix will ever turn against Voldemort for me. No matter how close we become, no matter how much she claims to love me, she will always choose her precious Dark Lord over me. She went to Azkaban for him; she is convinced my duty is an honor; she doesn't seem to care that this duty causes agonizing pain. She is blinded by her love for Voldemort.

"And if she learns of what you must do and decides to choose you over me," his dangerous voice cuts through my thoughts, "you will watch her suffer a horrid death." He puts his hand under my chin. "And should she learn of your fate before my choosing, when it is your time to completely fulfill said duty, I will not be gracious." He raises his wand.

The familiar happiness comes over me, and after what I've just learned, I don't want to leave this state. But because of what I've just learned, I cannot allow myself to be overtaken by the Imperius Curse. I cannot. If he's going to kill me either way, he's going to know exactly how much I plan to resist him.

Then the happiness is gone.

Voldemort clenches his jaw. "And just who has been teaching to resist the Imperius Curse? The last time you attempted that, you were left in a state of delirium, so much in fact that your mother had to escort you back to Spinner's End."

I don't remember ever trying to resist the curse that much.

"Who has been teaching you?" he repeats, his voice cold and angry.

"My own willpower to defy you, Tom Riddle."

Without any warning, the Dark Lord waves his wand and what feels like a fist strikes me in the face. I collapse to the floor and hold my eye, trying not to whimper.

"Your 'willpower' will not help you, Charlotte. You can spare yourself pain if you only cease this fighting."

His hands grab me by the shoulders and lifts me to my feet. Before I can register what I am about to do and how awful of an idea it is, I clench my fist and hit him in the jaw. His face contorts in anger, and I know that I've crossed a line from which I cannot return. Voldemort shoves me backward by my neck until he has me rammed against the wall. I close my eyes, knowing that there is nothing I can do to stop this.

But I can put up a fight.

And I will.

I kick out at him, hitting his knee and causing him to grunt loudly, his eyes becoming much more infuriated than they were just moments ago. With a flick of his wrist, my wand flies to the other side of the room, but I will not give up like this. I dash to the bedside table, snatch up the lamp, and throw it at him with all of my might. It skims his face, a deep red mark slowly oozing blood, and I hold back my laugh of glee at seeing him bleed.

Then a spell rams my chest and throws me across the bed and onto the stone floor, and suddenly I cannot move at all.

My fight is over.

"Are you all right?" a kind voice asks me.

I force my eyes open, but I have to close them right away because the lights burn them.

Soft hands grab me by the shoulders in an attempt to make me sit up, and I gasp with pain. The hands immediately release me, but it doesn't stop the aching throughout my body. I whimper quietly.

"Charlotte," the voice says again.

This isn't my mother or Narcissa. My eyes fly open—well, the right one does; the left one appears to be swollen shut. Standing beside me is Rodolphus Lestrange, my father who does not know that I am alive. "Rodolphus?" I croak. Even speaking is painful. "Where's Bellatrix?"

"The Dark Lord would not permit her to come see you," he says gently, pointedly keeping his eyes on my face.

I try to sit up, but groan in pain and fall back against—what am I against? I look around. I am not on the bed as I had originally thought. I'm lying on a black sofa. Rodolphus slides his hands under my knees and my back and lifts me off the couch, keeping his eyes focused only one my face. I clutch onto his chest, trying my hardest not to cry out, as he places me into a sitting position. "Thank you," I whisper.

Despite the pain of moving, I try to reach out for my robes. "Does…is it this bad every time?" He grabs my robes for me and drapes them over my shoulders, then pulls out his wand and murmur incantations over each of my deep bruises and cuts. The pain graciously lessens.

"No…I…I fought him…" I struggle to say.

Rodolphus pauses, his eyes meeting mine. "You fought him? Do you not want this to happen to you?"

I close my eyes. "I fear it." He begins healing me again. "Why is Bellatrix not allowed to see me?"

He stops again. "The Dark Lord does not want her seeing you in this state."

"Meaning he doesn't want her to know how he has abused me?"

Rodolphus doesn't answer, which in and of itself gives me the answer that I need. "Come on," he says, helping me to my feet. I grunt in pain, and unable to stop myself, I lean into his chest and stay there for a moment, thinking of how everything could be different if only he knew the truth about me, if only he was permitted to know the truth about me. He pats my shoulder awkwardly.

A moment later I pull away and apologize, to which he does not answer. As he gathers up the rest of my clothes, I slide my arms into my robes, slightly whimpering, and once I've closed them around myself, we leave the room. His arm around my waist keeps me from falling as I hobble away from this horrible place. Bellatrix is waiting in the hallway and walks quickly to me when she sees me. "I can take her from here," she says to my father.

He nods silently and shakes my hand once more, then hands me the rest of my clothes. I watch him leave.

"Are you all right?" my mother asks quietly, handing me a potion.

I drink it. "As good as I can be, I guess. What time is it?"

"Nearly seven. You must be heading back to Hogwarts soon."

Tears fill my eyes, and I drop my head onto her shoulder. "I don't want to leave you."

She holds me closely. "We do not have a choice, Aurelia."

I nod against her and force myself to pull away. "Until next time then, Mum." She smiles. After taking a short breath and bracing my hand against my stomach to prepare for the pain, I Apparate back to the sitting room of Severus's private quarters. I grunt as I come to a stop, closing my eyes against the pain in my core. The potion is helping, but it isn't helping fast enough.

My breathing is ragged and labored, and the panic in my chest rises to a new level now that I'm away from the manor and Voldemort's words are coming back to me. Voldemort is going to kill me. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, Voldemort is going to put a piece of his soul into my child. My innocent little boy will be left without me, without the one person who will be willing to protect him against the Dark Lord without reservation. I won't be here to protect my child. He will be a vessel used for Voldemort's return, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

"Prof-prof—" I take a breath. "Professor!"

The door from Severus's office bursts open. "Charlotte! Charlotte, what's happened?" His voice is frantic, panicky, as he rushes toward me.

I drop everything and throw my arms around him and bury my face into his chest. "He…he's t-told me why he w-wants a ch-child!"

"Charlotte, I am so sorry."

"You knew?" I whisper.

"I was one of the few to whom he entrusted his plans."

The betrayal rips me in half, and I shove him away from me, whining from the pain of the effort, my heart pounding with fury, my fists clenched and prepared for a fight. "You knew?" I hiss, my voice bitter. "HOW DARE—"

"I—"

"YOU KNEW HE PLANNED TO KILL ME, YET YOU HAVE BEEN FEEDING ME LIES ABOUT HOW I WILL BE FINE AT THE END OF THIS?" I shriek, my throat aching and tearing, my insides burning from the potion's delay in healing me. "WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?"

His face blanks for a moment. "He…he what?"

"YOU KNEW HE PLANNED TO KILL ME, SEVERUS, AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!" I am unable to even regret that I've let his first name actually slip out of my mouth. To his face.

He shakes his head, his mouth slightly agape. "I didn't—I didn't know that, Charlotte. The Dark Lord…he never said he planned to kill you."

I wipe a few silent tears, my anger transitioning into sorrow. "Well, that's his plan."

He steps closer to me but does not reach out to me, and a strange sadness grips my heart because I realize in that moment that I want him to reach out to me and comfort me. "What exactly did he say?" Severus asks cautiously.

"That if I have a girl, he will kill her. If I have a boy, once the child no longer physically needs me, he'll me."

"He only wants a boy?"

"So if his current body is destroyed, he will have a readymade body to come back to," I whisper.

"And you're sure he plans to kill you?"

No words come out of my mouth, but the sob that escapes me is answer enough for him. Severus quickly takes me into his arms. "You will not die," he says confidently. I bury my face into his chest. "Charlotte, I will not let you die. I swear to you, you will live to see the Dark Lord's life come to an end."

"But will I do that with or without a child?" I whisper.

"If there is any luck left in the world, without a child."

"You think that the luck will bestow itself upon me?"

He's silent for a moment. "Yes."

I stay in his arms for a long time, enjoying the feeling of someone holding me closely. His arms are strong, and when I grow weak and begin to fall, he holds me up and helps me over to the sofa where he lowers me down and sits beside me. I rest my head against him and cry. "I'm going to die," I whisper.

"Charlotte—"

"Don't deny it right now. Just...let me grow accustomed to the idea that I might."

He sighs but remains quiet.

A long while ago Draco offered to help me run away from Voldemort and the Death Eater. I know I could do it—I'm a Metamorphmagus and can easily go into hiding. But I cannot do that to Severus; he's my friend, and I cannot just abandon him like that. I don't think I could do that to McGonagall either, even if she currently dislikes me because of the way I have been treating her and how I've failed to even attempt apologizing.

And I fear that Severus, Rodolphus, possibly Bellatrix, and many others I care about will be punished for my sudden disappearance.

My only escape is through the death of Voldemort.

At some point early Sunday morning I wake up to find Severus and me in much of the same position as we were the last time I fell asleep in here. I'm using his chest as a pillow, and we are scrunched on this sofa of his. I can't help but wonder why he doesn't just move when I cry myself to sleep on him. I make a sudden movement, then quickly pretend to be asleep when he jolts awake. He sighs quietly and yawns. I sit up a few moments later, and he and I move away from each other, Severus to the bathroom, me simply sitting up on the sofa.

I wait until Severus returns before I say, "It's probably best that I go to the Slytherin Dungeon now, right?"

He walks over and sits back down with me. "Do you want to talk about—"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. I think I'm just going to sleep for a while." Or try.

"And risk running into those annoying students?" He pulls a disgusted face, and I feel myself smile at him. "I know how much you hate them."

This actually draws a laugh from me, followed shortly by a small whine from the leftover pain in my core. "I really do hate them." Sorrow soon consumes me once more. "But I think it'd be best to be alone right now. I kind of like being in that small area when the curtains are closed around me."

"And you're well enough to Apparate right now?"

"I think so. I just—I want to be alone."

Severus nods sadly, then waves his wand, a vial flying into his hand. He gives it to me. "You can Disapparate to the second-floor girls' lavatory."

I drink the potion, so very grateful to him. "Thank you, for everything."

He seems on the verge of saying something, and when he fails to speak, I Apparate. I waste no time hobbling back to the Slytherin Dungeon. Two students see me, Christopher included (I partially wonder where he's going this early), but I avoid speaking to any of them. Eventually I will try to find a way to apologize to all of the second-years for what I've done, but that simply will not be happening today. Instead I keep to myself and dodge around all of the Slytherins who are awake and in the common room at this hour.

I ascend the stairs up to the dormitory and hide away in my bed where I cry myself back to sleep.

My mother lies on the floor, bloody. Voldemort stands above her, his wand aimed down at her. "Say your goodbyes, dear one. I warned you what would happen."

I jolt awake, gasping, and immediately realize that something is different. On the foot of my bed sits Daphne, her legs against mine, and I jump away from her, my heart hammering in my chest. "What the hell?" I snap, pulling my knees to my chest and sitting against the headboard. I realize immediately there's still dried blood between my legs and now desperately want to shower.

"Morning," she greets me carelessly, looking at her nails.

"Daphne—"

"Where were you last night?" she asks. "You weren't anywhere in the castle. And you were nowhere to be found the night before that either. So where were you?"

"I don't really have to tell you that."

"Charlotte, we were worried about you."

"'We'?"

The curtain slides open, and Astoria sits down beside her sister, closing that curtain back so we're alone. "The two of us. The second-years don't know that you were missing. They believe you were holed up in here for the entire day. But we know better. So where were you?"

"Please don't do this."

"We've spoken with McGonagall on the subject, and even she seems worried about you," Astoria says.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't gossip about me with the Hogwarts professors."

"Charlotte."

Something in the way Daphne says my name, her voice so full of kindness, breaks me, and I begin crying. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry." This catches them both by surprise, and they both quickly sit up, alert and ready for whatever I might say next. I wave my wand, casting a spell around my bed to keep out any eavesdroppers. "Zoe was murdered by the Dark Lord." They each try to say something, but I cut them off. "He killed her because I was in love with her, and because of what he is forcing me to do and how possessive he is, he could not tolerate me bestowing my affections upon anyone else. Before you ask what he wants me to do, I should simply tell you that I can't say what it is. Just know it's horrid and I have no choice. I will be called away from Hogwarts the last weekend of each month."

They sit quietly and take in what I've just said, and I give them a moment before I continue with, "She was murdered in front of me, and in turn I murdered the man who turned us over to the Death Eaters in the first place. The Dark Lord imprisoned me—" I stop. They can't know I went to Azkaban. No one needs to know that—really, I shouldn't have even told McGonagall. "He imprisoned me in a magic-muffling dungeon after that and threated to throw anyone I care about into Azkaban, which is why I have been doing my best to shut everyone out and to keep everyone away from me. How could I possibly live with myself if I not only caused the death of the one I love but I also got my friends and other loved ones sent to Azkaban? Do you really think those second-years could survive a single day in that hellhole? I—" I broke within nine days.

Astoria remains silent, watching me wide-eyed horror, but Daphne moves toward the head of the bed where I sit and puts an arm around me. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charlotte. You need to know that. Besides, all of the second-years are Slytherins. Why would You-Know-Who distrust them enough to send them to Azkaban?"

I rest my head against hers and close my eyes. "But why risk it?"

"Charlotte, they miss you," Astoria says quietly. "They won't be harmed if they act like upright Slytherins. That's all we have to tell them to do."

"But why risk it?" I repeat.

"Because they miss you," Daphne says. She reaches forward and takes my hand. "At least think about it."