Severus

'Summon me when you have the upper hand. Just like we practiced. I'll make it stop before it gets… out of hand.'

'Right,' Holly looked up at him, spinning the bloodstone ring around her finger. She was paler than usual.

'You know what to say,' he reminded her, trying to be comforting. He was somewhat relieved at her anxiety — in that he would have been more worried if she wasn't uneasy about what was to come.

'Er. Yes.'

'Relax, Princess.'

'I don't feel like sleeping at all. Tell me a story,' she said hastily.

'I—I don't—' Severus stuttered, at a complete loss.

'Not like Babitty Rabbity,' she rolled her eyes at his bemused state. 'A story about something real, like… Why do you call me Princess?'

She shocked him to silence, he'd never truly considered why he called her that. The nickname just happened. He traced a finger over his lips in concentration, thinking back to the day she first set foot in his class.

'My mother's maiden name was Prince,' he started, scooping up a section of hair that spread out from her head like an exploded ink pot. She stayed quiet, watching his fingers plaiting a neat string into her otherwise chaotic hair.

'During my first few years as a student, I was something of a persona non grata. I was almost always alone. Except when Lily was with me, of course. It was a difficult time at home,' he struggled for the right words. 'Because of my father, I grew to develop an animosity towards Muggles altogether — at least for a time. It was wrong. But I couldn't help it. I took the moniker of the 'Half-Blood Prince'. To distinguish my Magical from my Muggle side.'

She looked at him with a mixture of pity and interest, drinking in the information.

'I'm your counterpart then. Your Half-Blood Princess.'

Their eyes met. He tried to smile, 'I've been in denial since we met.'

'The nickname; I like it. It makes me feel… loved.' She took his hand, lacing her fingers through with his. His mark buzzed.

'You are loved. Madly, deeply,' he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She hugged him tightly from the side, and he felt her smile against his arm.

'I love you too, Sev,' she said. 'Remember, this was your idea. No getting mad at me for doing my job. You can show me how much you love me after the dream.'

He grimaced, 'I'm counting on it. And I won't interfere with your espionage. Unless I deem it necessary.'

'I'm ready. Give me the sleeping draught,' she said with calm determination.

Holly threw the potion back like water. Slowly, she sank back against the pillow, mumbling something at him as her determined little frown slipped away and sleep carried her away. Severus sat next to the slumbering witch, head in his hands and body strung tighter than a bowstring. He tried to meditate, but it turned into a prayer to any deity who'd listen.

Holly

It all happened like Severus said it would: Voldemort was waiting, as soon as she fell asleep, he was there. He was shrouded in darkness, using his true form. Long, elegant black robes pooled around him. On his skull-like head lay a hood made of translucent black material. A very fine chain of silver acted as a clasp for the front of his robes. The bone-white wand was tucked into a wide silk belt at his waist. Voldemort cut a handsome figure. He was taller than Severus. Even taller than Sirius, thin but broad at his shoulders with narrow hips, like a long triangle. He was relaxed and confident. Raw magical power radiating from him.

It's just a dream, she reminded herself.

Slowly, a midnight forest clearing materialised around them. Tall pines thick as houses appeared as if from a shroud of mist. Boulders were overgrown with vines sprawled in a semi-circle around the dark lord. It was the ritual grounds he loved showing her in dreams. Holly could smell the fresh scent of the trees. Feel the pine needles pricking her bare feet. She wore the same loose white linen dress she wore in reality. Voldemort stood a stone throw from her, turned away still, hands clasped behind his back, gazing thoughtfully at the nearest rune-covered altar. The forest was silent as a grave.

A trickle of ice ran down her spine. She turned inward, summoning Severus by holding the image of the bloodstone fast in her mind's eye. Nothing happened. Voldemort turned his head as if listening for something. She shut her eyes, trying to focus on the ring again.

'Holly Potter,' he said finally, using Parseltongue. She opened her eyes, finding him regarding her cooly now.

Holly felt a pulse of heat rush through the ring. Sev was here too now. Somewhere. She could feel him in the sudden warmth of the ring.

The translucent hood shrouded half of Voldemort's angular face. The dark magic that had corrupted his features made of him a scary species you'd expect to see while paging through a Care of Magical Creatures handbook. Beautiful, in a bizarre way. And certainly not human.

Their eyes met, but she averted hers quickly as if making eye contact with a stranger on a train.

Do not look him in the eye if you can help it, Severus had said. Compliment him. Act submissive. Do not speak unless spoken to. Focus on anything that's positive about him. 'Don't think of your hate. You need to make him believe you want to join him. Try not to lie. If you have to, tell a half-truth instead.'

It's too much to remember! she thought, head spinning.

'I like your robes,' she commented truthfully.

Fuck, Holly. That was so lame. Ears burning, she studied the way her toes sank into the springy moss, wishing she could disappear. Her hair fell over her shoulders and into her face, she was grateful for the hiding place it offered.

Mere moments later, his dark presence crept closer. The smell of rain, moss, earth, and pine needles accompanied him. A cold, long finger under her chin forced her head upwards. Her scar burned white hot. She didn't struggle or defy him but looked down to the bottom of his face instead. The pain made her eyes water.

His cheekbones. Just look at his cheekbones. Aren't they something else? He could've made it big in Hollywood with those.

'Look. At. Me,' he hissed in Parsletongue. His voice was sharp like needles. Soft. An echo in a cave. She could hear him breathe, feel the air tickle her skin. Even if Severus could hear, he won't be able to understand them. She could see the forked tongue forming the words, behind white teeth that were pointed like a carnivore's.

Think cheekbones. Shoulders. Robe. She tried her very best to project any feelings of admiration toward him.

Her eyes fluttered to meet his. His eyes weren't dark in the way Severus's was dark. Sev's irises were pitch black, bruised around from his hauntings and general lack of sleep. Voldemort's eyes were dark in another way. Dark in the way he looked at her. Dark in intent. Dark with a kind of power Hogwarts didn't teach. Dark in a way that made her believe eyes could really be the window to the soul. Their ruddy depths spoke of power. And madness. He was too close. The nail of his forefinger neared her throat. He leaned closer, smelling her hair.

It always started the same way. He came too close. Then intimidated her with clever words and perfectly timed touches.

'You remember our rendezvous now?'

She swallowed. 'I—I remember. My Lord.'

He raised a non-existent brow, 'So… meek. Where is the disrespect you adore showing me?'

Holly frowned her retort at him, but left the biting remark unsaid.

'Better,' he hissed, slipping thumb and forefinger to the hollow of her throat. 'Are you afraid?' His large hand hovered over her hammering pulse.

'No,' she said truthfully. 'It's just a dream.'

This made his jaw flex and his grip tighten on her throat.

'Who broke the spell for you?'

'You know who,' she said softly. Projecting Dumbledore at him.

Voldemort's lips parted in a silent snarl.

'Screw Dumbledore,' she hissed up at the towering wizard. 'This is not about him. I'm here for you. He's only ever lied to me. I want the truth. I want to know everything.'

She remembered saying something similar to Severus some time ago.

Voldemort's expression softened as much as his reptilian features allowed. His closed hand sidled up her throat to graze her jaw. It was cold and powerful.

'Will you teach me?' She repeated the words Severus made her learn. He said to call him 'my Lord' in every sentence though. But she couldn't bring herself to do it again, it didn't feel right.

She felt the familiar pressure building in her skull. Her scar burned and she felt Voldemort bring his lips to her ear. His cold breath against her chest.

'Do you know what you ask, Holly Potter?' He hissed, the side of their heads bumping. He had to stoop to reach her. She could count the rows of fine silver embroidery patterning the high neck of his robes. His black tulle hood brushed her nose. He carried the scent of rain-wetted earth.

'I will pay for knowledge.'

'And how will you pay?'

'With my body,' she hissed, meeting his scarlet eyes bravely. 'I know what you want.'

For a long time, he looked down at her with a curious expression. 'I accept your offer. Kneel. I will teach you what you wish to know,' he gestured at the forest floor, lips pulling to the side in a wicked half-smile.

Voldemort let go of her in an abrupt movement, making space for her to kneel. He stayed close enough to make descent uncomfortably close to his body as she got to her knees in the soft moss. The material seemed to be the same as her invisibility cloak, she realised when given another opportunity to study the intricate details of his robes.

When she was on her knees at his feet, she stared at her hands, trying to think of nothing.

'Your arm,' he hissed, holding out a long-fingered hand. The cuffs of his robe reached over the back of his hand in an elegant V shape.

Holly exhaled shakily but lifted her right arm above her head. She dared look up at the very obviously ecstatic dark lord.

He tore the sleeve of her linen dress away. The rip of the fabric echoed in the black forest surrounding them. His wand had materialised out of thin air and he pressed the tip into the soft flesh near the crook of her elbow. 'Res meas,' he sang, a vice grip strangled her hand as he pulled it up and toward him.

Pain wracked through her body. She almost fell over, but he kept her upright by her arm still locked in his grip. Holly heard her own voice calling out in agony. She wondered if Severus would save her now.

Voldemort let go. Severus did not save her.

She cradled her sore arm, unable to look away from the new mark inside it. It wasn't like the other Death Eaters. There was no skull. Only a snake tangled around a fine crown, its scaled body moving slowly. The crown was decorated with a raven spreading its wings to create the arch. The entire thing consisted of red lines, like Severus's. The pain slowly subsided, but she still held it to her stomach protectively.

'Rise,' his fingers flitted over her head in an almost loving manner. 'What is it you wish to know?'

She looked up at him, mostly to see his expression. 'I want to make a Horcrux,' she said, shaking out the proverbial bag of potatoes. His eyes narrowed for some time, before changing into something more thoughtful. She was his now, marked and summonable like the rest of his followers. She had promised him her body to make and carry his new body. He had won. Surely there was no reason not to indulge her?

Unless he knows what I've been up to… she reminded herself.

'And where did you learn of this phenomenon?' He asked, slipping his wand back into the band at his slim waist.

'Beyonde Darkness.'

'A classic. Yes, Vicar has delved into the art of Horcruxes. But only I have pushed the boundaries of magic further than any other.'

He wasn't lying. It was quite literally writ in his features. You couldn't mess with dark magic like that and just walk away with your humanity intact.

'Will you teach me?'

'You will call me your Lord. Or Master. When addressing me.'

'Will you teach me… Master?' She tried again.

'I am considering it,' he whispered. 'Rise,' he said again.

Holly shakily got to her feet, stepping on her long dress in the process. Another ripping sound echoed through the clearing. She looked down. Her legs were revealed behind a long tear in the fabric.

Voldemort's eyes were twinkling with amusement at her predicament. She felt embarrassed, her torn dress juxtaposed starkly with his elegant robes.

'Let me help you,' he hissed, stepping on the rest of the tattered skirt to only leave a thin flap of skirt that barely covered the gap between her thighs.

Her face grew hot with humiliation, but then she remembered her power. Voldemort didn't understand love. But he understood lust. This was how she would tame him.

'Thanks,' she said, flashing him the biggest grin she could manage.

He stepped forward. She stepped back, her bum meeting the cold stone of a stone altar.

She licked her lips and tried again; 'Tell me about Horcruxes.'

'Why?' Voldemort hissed.

'I want to make one,'

'Why?'

'I don't want to die,' she said simply, thinking of everything she still wanted to experience and knowing he would be able to relate.

He was silent, very obviously using Legilimency on her. Holly reached back to rest her palms on the altar and pulled herself up to perch on the edge. She spread her legs, watching him through her lashes. Voldemort stepped confidently into the empty space, his red eyes snapping to her legs when their bodies touched. He clearly didn't have the same self-control as Severus when it came to the carnal.

So seduction was the answer. Not that she knew much of the art. Severus said she was a natural. But she wasn't so sure. She was as plain as anything. Only Sev seemed to think the opposite. But it seemed the Dark Lord shared this sentiment.

'Tell me… my Lord,' she repeated, placing a shaking hand on his broad chest and making her best puppy eyes at him. The material was buttery under her fingertips.

He took hold of her throat again, roughly this time, and pulled her closer by it. She choked lightly. He smiled.

'I have created many. Even one, I daresay, by accident,' his fingers slid up to her scar as he spoke. Holly frowned.

'What do you mean? According to Vicar, it takes months of preparation.'

'I prepared to make another item the Horcrux,' Voldemort cocked his head and brought his face closer to hers. 'I took the sword of Gryffindor to Godric's Hollow that fateful Halloween night. It was going to be the Goblin sword, made Horcrux by your death. Instead, it was you. The sword had disappeared, and as fate would have it — you became the Horcrux.'

Holly felt ill. 'Impossible,' she whimpered in English.

'It's true,' he said. 'My biggest failure… I am not afraid to admit,' he exhaled, running a hand over the tattoo on her forearm.'You see now why we are connected as we are. And now,' he brushed over the writhing snake, making it burn under his touch. 'We will be inseparable forevermore.'

Holly glanced down at the tattoo. Voldemort had made his second mark on her body.

'Can it be undone?' She asked.

'Only death will do us part, Holly Potter.' She shivered. He chuckled darkly, letting his finger drag to the top of her dress. 'I will come for you,' he promised, finger tracing down to her chest. 'And you must know,' he pinched the tip of her breast between two fingers. 'That we are equal now. I killed your parents, and you killed two of my Horcruxes.'

Her eyes whipped up to his.

'You thought I did not know? How naive… to think you would not have to pay for what you did.'

A cry escaped her as Voldemort ripped the bodice of her dress with both hands, feasting his terrible eyes on her nakedness.

A blueish glow appeared somewhere behind his left shoulder. A translucent doe stood at the edge of the clearing. The ring rattled on her finger as the doe reared onto its hind legs. Blue light illuminated the scene until there was nothing but white light left and she was alone in her head again, her head buzzing with bomb shock.

The Dark Lord was banished.