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Falling into Destiny	By : Demonic_Host Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 11026 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with the Harry Potter franchise, nor do I make any money from this piece of work.

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Falling into Destiny
Chapter Twelve

Even in the dim lighting of the candles you had lit earlier, you could see a bunch of half formed sentences that had been abandoned on your parchment. You sat at a personal sized writing desk with the inkwell placed in the divot near your right hand. The desk was of moderate craftsmanship and it was definitely smaller than what you were used to in your old room but it did serve it's purpose. Which, at the moment, was to be a nice background to a letter that had more unfinished sentences than a british romantic movie. Not that you knew what those were given the fact that you'd never seen a singular muggle movie much less knew how to predict a whole genre. The only important thing about any of this was the fact that you couldn't think of a single way to explain to Blaise everything that had happened in a completely edited way.

You couldn't tell him that you were born from a sex craving spirit, which some might call a demon and you'd be inclined to agree, nor the fact that this form of creation made you a hybrid while still maintaining a pureblood status. Only a few truly understood what occurred during that particular siring processes and those who did understand either hunted and killed people like you and your father, or they were very dark magic practitioners like Voldemort. Whom was another part of the puzzle that you couldn't explain to Blaise. You knew that his mother might have dabbled here and there with questionable topics as did most people at least once in their life. But you didn't know if their family was among the loyal death eaters. Or if they were, if they knew that Voldemort had indeed completely returned though after this last summer at the Quidditch World Cup it would have been very hard for any death eater to not have known. The issue was that you didn't know if Blaise would have been told about the situation with Voldemort even if all the other stars had aligned. If he did and you knew this for certain, it might have been easier to put into words everything you needed to tell him. As it was you were stuck before you'd even truly begun.

Frustration didn't even begin to cover what you were feeling and you weren't sure if it was at yourself or at the world at this point. You did know that there was a level of self loathing that you didn't think you'd ever be able to fully forget about. You had fucked, not even made love to or slept with or any more discrete affectionate sayings, not one but two people when you'd lost control of your inhibitions. In front of people. Granted when you'd really started to get down to the dirty you'd knocked one of the watchers unconscious but that was a whole other issue as well.

You closed your eyes and curled your hand around a fistfull of the thick night gown you had on. The flannel material bunched up under your fingers as you twisted, trying to push down the feeling of nerves took the form of nausea which started to rise up. You'd been cornered and blackmailed into giving the darkest wizard more than you would have ever been willing to give. The first time you'd had sex and it was a situation where you'd been blackmailed and guilted into doing it, not that it had mattered to your primal state once that had been triggered, and it had been in front of people. To say that you felt low would have made the dirt under the foundation of the manor you were an elevated state of being.

Those weren't the only issues either; just some of the most frightening. Another which swirled in your head was the fact that you'd knocked Narcissa Malfoy out. That part was a bit blurry and it was hard to remember but she'd definitely been hit with brute force into the wall hard enough to shock her body into shutting her consciousness down. You should not have been that strong; you had never been that strong before. Then again you'd never slipped that far into a primarily state before. This morning had been a lot of firsts for you and none of them had been particularly great. Energy and sensation aside, everything else (the meaning and potential repercussions of that short time period) was horrible.

You leaned over in your chair, feeling like the world was spinning once more. Your brain felt both as in synch with your flesh and as out of touch with it as it had ever been. You felt like you were floating in a sea of troubles that transcended your body after drowning it in problems. And yet you felt every nauseating moment which passed over. It had only gotten worse the longer it wore on as well. After the main event a series of smaller events, where you were able to isolate yourself for this anxiety related introspection, took place.

Once you'd regained enough thoughts to feel human again you'd found the situation that your hunger had left you in. You had been between two unconscious bodies. Both of which had been exposed haphazardly and improperly. You hadn't even really bothered with their shirts when you'd….Anyways, you'd woken up between two sleeping males. One of which happened to be the full time butler at the Malfoy Manor and the other happened to be the Heir of said manor - technically your husband. Until that very moment it had been in name only. He'd been your husband by way of contract, a contract that had been due to become void at the end of the month barring consummation. A consummation which had definitely occurred now.

But how did you explain that to Blaise?

Your shaking hand loosened around your pants and came up to join your other hand around your stomach. Oh god. How were you going to deal with anything that happened after this? Sure you had waved your magic wand and put the boys back to rights as well as moved everyone to their respected rooms much to what seemed to be Lord Voldemort's amusement. But that didn't solve anything. In fact it only gave you a more unique perspective on the issue at hand.

You had both consummated your marriage with Draco and cheated on him all within the same period of time. To compound all these issues was the fact that when you'd finished moving the three other residents of the manor, not being able to look Lucius in the face when you passed him, you instantly started to your room. Only to remember that it was no longer yours as you touched the doorknob. Narcissa had been trying to tell you that your room had been taken but it had been Voldemort himself that let you knew such a fact. He had taken over your room and the smaller sub-chambers that went with it. Which included your bed and your much needed bath.

Without too many other viable options you'd had to find a small unused servant's room to seek refuge in. You'd been able to summon the gown you currently had on from wherever Narcissa had put it by means of magic, which you had plenty of energy to accomplish after that morning. You'd also had to resort to a small wash bin in a potentially shared bathroom near by in order to clean up. You had scrubbed yourself so much that you'd gotten rid of all the old layers of skin to reveal new, more sensitive ones. After your very long scrubbing you'd found the bedroom and pretended that no one could see you if you just hid under the covers long enough.

The day's light went away pretty quickly considering the fact that you lost track of the hours that you'd ignored the world. As the sun faded a somewhat more stable mind set had kicked in - it was the same one you were in currently. You'd realized that Blaise would need to be told something. You just didn't have the words to figure out what that was or how to go about telling him. Thankfully you were saved from any more deliberation about the letter by a knock on the door. It didn't have the any true amount of force behind it so you ruled out the fact that it was Narcissa or Lucius at the door. And considering that they had knocked to begin with and didn't just barge in, you ruled out it being either Draco or potentially Voldemort.

"Come in," you called out in the steadiest of voices that you could.

The door slowly opened and the maid, the one who worked alongside Adam as the only other full time staff at the manor, walked in. She took up pretty much the only open space in the middle of the bedroom, especially as she held out an ornate paper box. It was in stark contrast to the amplitude of space you had gotten used to having while staying with the Malfoys.

"Your presence is requested in the dining room."

Oh, you felt like you were going to be sick.

You closed your eyes and counted backwards as you tried to regain some sort of composure. You didn't know if you had said something to her as way of dismissal or in acknowledgement, though you were sure at least one of those had slipped out at some point. The young maid laid placed the garment box on top of your new bed before making her exit. Briefly you contemplated running away; far away where they would never find you. Your logical side reminded you that there probably was no such place when it came to Voldemort's displeasure. There was also the fact that even if you managed to find such a haven that there was no guarantee of safety for the people you left behind. Aside from the dickish behavior of their son, the Malfoy's had done nothing wrong against you. In fact, you would probably be forever indebted to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy given that they'd taken you in and supported you when your own mother had been unable to do so any longer.

Gingerly you got up from your spot at the small writing desk and moved towards the box of clothes. Your hands felt like they were made of ice as you opened the box and looked to see what had been brought to you. From what you could see it looked like a basic enough black dress. It was no doubt cut in a very flattering way and looked vaguely familiar. It was probably something you had in your wardrobe that you hadn't worn very often. After all, for most of the year you were stuck wearing the Hogwarts' uniform so you'd rarely had time to wear your own choices. Underneath the dress, of course, were a matching pair of under garments as well as other necessities to be considered fully dressed.

You went through the motions of dressing as you tried very hard to continue to resist the urge to run far away. The feeling of nausea wouldn't leave you be, nor would the sound of your own slow heartbeat. The feel of it in your chest felt like it was the death march though it's tempo and actual rhythm didn't resemble the somber song at all. The closer you got to the formal great room the worse you felt. It was like having to willingly walk through ice waters or forcing yourself to sit in an ice bath. You tried to push that perception away by focusing on all the familiar details on the way. You focused on the tiles or the grain of wood as you passed, on the etchings and paintings. You paid special attention to the paintings where the people were currently missing from because that seemed less creepy than making eye contact with something that was dead and yet still so alive. You never understood how Gryffindors didn't get creeped out by the fat lady being the guardian to their homeroom.

You steeled your nerves as much as you could before moving into the great room. The table stretched across a good portion of the massive size chamber, though it nowhere took up the whole space. The thing that seemed the most odd to you was the fact that dinner with so few people was being served on such a large table. But you supposed that everything was probably on ceremony as it was meant to honor the current house guest - Voldemort was the Dark Lord after all. As you waited a moment to make sure that you weren't interrupting anything, you noticed that Lucius looked especially affected. There was a tightness to his features that you couldn't quite tell if it was from anger or stress, but it was definitely something beyond the confidence he normally wore. Even that notion was disconcerting. After all, he was as much of a father figure as you would ever have. Yeah, sure, you did have a father and you had been assured many times over that he cared for you in his own twisted fashion but Lucius had been the one to see you on a day to day basis. He'd been the one to make sure you were ready for school and the face that you saw when you came back every vacation. Which was why it hurt somehow to see him so vexed.

You moved around the table towards where you might have normally sat, though even that was a little changed up as Lucius wasn't at the head of the table nor Narcissa at the foot. Most of the chairs sat completely empty, most of the table was completely empty. It was kind of haunting in that way. When Voldemort motioned towards the open seat with his right hand you nearly flinched. Especially given the way that the other three people looked towards you, some with more trepidation than others. With as much grace as you could under the tenseness of the situation you took a seat where you were guided to by the supposed host of the meal.

"We were beginning to think you'd run away," Voldemort spoke out into the silent room, his lips curling up into what seemed like a cruel smile.

"I'd considered it, my lord," you replied.

The smile persisted, "Ah, honestly. Not a quality I would have expected from you."

You weren't sure if that was necessarily a good thing nor a bad thing. Was he trying to pay you some sort of compliment or was he trying to belittle you? Without knowing him further or without having any more clues you couldn't quite figure it out. He wasn't quite as eager to supply those details as someone like Draco would have been. It wasn't that he wasn't expressive it was just that his expressions seemed skewed by something you couldn't comprehend. That didn't stop you from trying all throughout dinner. You even paid attention to what he did and did not eat - he very much seemed to favor his meat. Other than the soft, dinging sounds of the silverware the meal was a silent affair. It wasn't until the plates had been vanished that he spoke up once more.

"Tell me would you like to see your mother again?"

Your eyes instantly moved to his, searching. Unlike everyone else in the room he looked completely relaxed, as though he hadn't asked you such a riddle filled question. The easiest answer you could give would have been 'Yes' but it wasn't as simple as that. Your mother was in Azkaban and had been locked up for years. Unlike other in that place you doubted she had earned a visit even if either you or she had been on death's door. Not after the crimes she'd been found guilty of and the behavior that she'd been rumored to display in such a dark place.

"Is that possible?" Was the half-thought out question that made it's way out of your mouth.

There was a certain look in his eye that made you think of a snake about to strike. It was deadly, frightening in such a way that it was nearly enchanting. You tore your eyes away to look more at your plate than at him. You knew it had been a stupid thing to ask and yet it had fallen out regardless. It was like you were a child all over again learning some simple rules.

"Yes," you answered in a quiet voice though you knew your face showed how hard you were trying to get it to remain neutral.

"Then I will do you this favor."

His words were too good to be true. You felt your breath bait even before the rest of the house's eyes turned with surprise to the pale man.

"And in return you will do one for me."

Ah, there was the other shoe.

"What would that be, my lord?" you asked as you tried to resolve yourself to neutrality.

"You will use your unique talents and distract Harry Potter, sew discord into his world. It is a feat that I have every confidence that you can manage. Especially after seeing the strength of your abilities for myself."

Oh fucking hell there was no way to truly describe all the thoughts that raced through your head at that. You couldn't see it but you weren't the only one slightly disturbed by this turn of events, nor were you the only one at the table who visibly reacted either. However, you did know that no one was going to say a single word about the 'request'. You also knew better than to think you could reject this so called exchange of favors. And you knew better than to believe that he wouldn't have some way of knowing if you were trying to uphold your end. Voldemort was exceedingly clever and resourceful - he had been a slytherin after all. Not to mention one did not rise to power by being a fool.
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Falling into Destiny