Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shared Flame	By : TheLadyMiya Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 58984 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 44
- 45
- 46
Hello! Time for a new chapter. I hope you’ll like it.

As always, I’d like to thank my two favorite betas in the whole while world: Nerys and Shan. You guys have helped me so much! I don’t know where I would be without you. *Starts singing a serenade*

Anon review replies can be found here: tomioneconvention dot forumotion dot com /t144-shared-flame-review-response-ffnet

Enjoy!

Chapter 44
“We need to get a new bed,” Voldemort stated as he sat down on their temporarily repaired bed. Hopefully, they could finally have an uninterrupted night of sleep. After the healing session, Alexandra should sleep until the morning. The only problem would be if Althea woke up, but he didn’t think she would. She had been exhausted.
“What we need is to talk,” Hermione said. He could tell by her tone that he wasn’t going to get any sleep just yet. Perhaps he should hex her and postpone it until tomorrow? No, that would just make it worse.
“Fine, what is it?” Voldemort asked as he tried to get comfortable on the bed. Transfigured furniture was never as good as the real ones.
“You seem to need a reminder that we aren’t here just to cover up your tracks,” Hermione said, coming to a stop at the end of the bed, her arms crossed.
“What are you talking about?” Voldemort asked with a sigh.
“You treat Althea as if you are just trying to get her to shut up. She is in pain, Voldemort! She needs sympathy and encouragement and to know that she is loved, and don’t you dare snort at me!” Her voice grew louder at the last part, showing just how angry she was. “You are not just the ex-Dark Lord Voldemort anymore; you are a father, and it’s about fucking time you start acting like one. You have to put Althea’s needs in front of your own.”
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “You seem to forget, dear wife, that if I don’t put my own needs first, all hell will break lose, not just for me, but for this entire family. I don’t think you want that.”
“Don’t be such a drama queen,” she hissed. “You know what I mean. We have Polyjuice Potion, which works perfectly and will last for a month at least. And we can always get more. It’s just a mild inconvenience for you to have to drink it. And you have already fixed the acute problems with the Aurors. Now it’s time to focus on making your daughter feel better. She just found out her father is a known mass-murderer and lost her only friends! The least you can do is make her see that she has nothing to fear from you. This is not something you can threaten and curse your way out of. You have to take responsibility.”
“Or what?” he challenged her.
Hermione’s eyes turned hard. “Or I’ll expose you myself.”
Voldemort snorted. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” she asked, walking up to stand at the side of the bed. “You know me, Voldemort. I’ll do anything for my family, for the people I love. But there are two people in the world that I love more than you. So I dare you to tell me one thing I wouldn’t do for them.”
Voldemort stared at her in disbelief. She was telling the truth. He rose from the bed, towering over her.
“I would never let you do that.”
“You can’t stop me,” she spat.
“The spell—”
She interrupted him by laughing. “We’ve been married for a long time, Voldemort. Don’t you think I know how you construct spells by now? I broke your spell over me ages ago. You know it, too; you just don’t want to think about it. Because you hate that you actually have to trust me.”
He gripped her throat. “Don’t you dare cross me, witch.”
“Don’t you dare mistreat my children, wizard,” she retorted.
They held each other’s gazes for a long moment, none of them yielding. He squeezed her throat, not strangling her, just needing to show her who was in control. But she continued to stare back, not even blinking.
Several minutes had gone by when he suddenly felt his body changing. He pushed her back onto the bed before turning around so he could grimace freely at the unpleasant sensation. But he would let the change occur. She could use being reminded of who he truly was.
He opened his eyes again when the changing had occurred. He lifted his hand, studying the long, pale fingers. “Perhaps you just like seeing me like this.”
He turned around, smirking.
Hermione glared at him. “You won’t get out of this by flirting, Voldemort.”
“Who said anything about flirting?” he purred, closing the distance between the two of them. “You know I’m not impossible, kitten. If you want to fuck me in this shape, all you have to do is ask.”
Hermione backhanded him. “I want you to take responsibility as a father.”
His smirk disappeared as he stroked the tender skin of his cheek. “I have managed these past eight years, Hermione. I’ve always taken care of the girls in my own way, and they have loved me— just as any other child loves their parents. Althea will get over it.”
“Yes, if she gets the attention she needs! Even the Healer said so!” Hermione growled. “We have to focus all that we can on her for the coming weeks.”
“These things with the Aurors won’t fix themselves, dear,” he said coldly.
“I know that,” she spat. “Of course we have to take care of that, as well as making sure Alex gets better. But less important things will have to wait. We should take some leave from work for the next couple of weeks, too.”
He regarded her coldly for a moment, thinking. “Very well. We’ll prioritise Althea. But I think we have a very different idea of how to treat her. I won’t treat her any differently from the way I always have. She needs things to get back to normal, not being treated like she is about to break at any moment.”
“But she can!” Hermione cried. “Can’t you see how sad she is?”
“She will toughen up.”
“She needs time!”
“So for me to be a good parent, I must be exactly like you?”
“Yes,” she growled.
“Why?” he asked. “Do you think you are a better parent than I am?”
He could see in her eyes that she thought so. It made him angry.
“So you think just because you love them, you are a better parent,” he said softly. “Even though your emotions get in the way of your better judgement time and time again.”
She scoffed. “So you’re trying to tell me that you’re a better parent because you don’t love them?”
“Yes,” he hissed. “I know what they need, and I’m capable of giving it to them. I don’t need to love them to be able to comfort them.”
“How could you even know the difference? No one ever loved you as a child,” she spat, her anger clearly getting the better of her.
He looked at her, unimpressed by her attempted insult.
“We will talk to the Healer tomorrow and ask what she thinks the best way to treat Althea is,” he said coldly. “And I will tell you, ‘I told you so’ when she agrees with me.”
Hermione glared at him for several seconds until finally pushing herself off the bed. “I don’t want to look at you right now.”
She pushed him aside as she made her way towards the bathroom. However, Voldemort wasn’t done with her. She wanted his promise to prioritise Althea, and he just had. Now it was time to resolve another issue.
He grabbed her from behind and pushed her up against the wall, her left arm stuck between her body and the wall, and her right arm twisted up behind her.
“Voldemort, what the fuck?” she cried, trying to struggle free.
“Now, about your plan to expose me if I don’t do what you want,” he hissed, not bothering to control his anger anymore. “Are you stupid, or is it the lack of sleep making you irrational? You know the Aurors wouldn’t catch me. You know it wouldn’t make you get rid of me. I’d come back for you before the Aurors arrest you for harbouring a criminal, and I would punish you, and our lives would be ruined forever. You’d have to give up Althea and Alexandra unless you wanted to doom them to a life forever on the run.”
He spun her around and slapped her. “Get yourself together, witch. I can’t have you acting this stupid if we are to get through this.”
She got her arm free and slapped him back. He let her. He knew it would help her wind down.
“How many times are we going to have this fight?” Voldemort asked softly.
“Clearly once more,” she said through gritted teeth. “Since you still see it prudent to threaten me and the girls every time things don’t go your way.”
She pushed him away once again. “But then, it kills you that you have you trust us, doesn’t it? You can’t stand being without full control. And it just kills you that, ever since you married me, you haven’t had it.”
“Are you trying to make me kill you?” he whispered, barely keeping his temper in check.
Hermione’s eyes were cold. “You could never do that. Deep down, you know how dependent you are on me. You have so many logical reasons to be with me. And all you have to rely on for me to stay with you is that I love you. But love isn’t logical. You know that much at least. Which is why you also know that I’ll kill you long before you can kill me.”
He slashed his wand at her, and she flew back, rolling halfway across the bed before stopping on her back. He came at her with his wand raised, ready to kill her. He had to kill her. No one could get away with talking like that to him. No one could get away with threatening him! It didn’t matter who she was, or what they had done, he would not let her live through this.
There was no fear in her eyes. She slowly moved up, so that she was leaning back on her elbows, not taking her eyes off of him. Her wand was still in her hand, but she didn’t raise it to defend herself. It made him even angrier.
With a growl, he got jumped on the bed, straddled her legs and pressed his wand against her throat.
The spell to end her life was at his lips. He had cast it so many times in the past. Countless of times. He knew he could do it. He knew what the result would be. So did she.
So why was she looking so unimpressed?
He pressed the wand deeper into her throat. The first syllable was forming on his tongue. He could feel his magic building inside him, ready to lash out at her. To forever remove that fire in her eyes.
Several seconds passed. Too many seconds. It had never taken him this long to prepare to cast a spell before. Especially not this spell. Once he had made up his mind, he cast it quicker than everyone. He never had any guilt or regret holding him back. Not then, not now.
So why wasn’t he casting it?
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His grip of his wand weakened.
Her left hand came up to his wand, pushing it away from her body. He couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t cast the spell. For the first time ever, he couldn’t cast the Killing Curse.
“What have you done to me?” he whispered. It had to be her fault. His magic couldn’t fail him!
“Nothing,” she said softly. “But I know you, Voldemort. You are angry with me, but you wouldn’t want to kill me. You would never kill me. You need me. Maybe you don’t want to believe it, but your magic does.”
He stared at her, shocked. She was right. Of course, she must be right. What else could it be? His magic had stopped him, because he knew he wanted her alive much more than he wanted her dead. If she were dead, she would be of no more use to him.
That had to be it. Anything else was unthinkable.
Yet, he had a hard time believing it had happened at all. That his magic hadn’t followed his will. It scared him.
Hermione stroked his cheek. “Let’s stop the fighting for tonight. It’s late. We need sleep. We need to be there for Althea and Alexandra tomorrow.”
He nodded, slowly.
She sighed and pushed him lightly, so she could get away from underneath him. He allowed her to do it, still feeling shocked and quite numb. Yes, sleep seemed to be the best action right now. That probably had something to do with … all of this. He was too tired to think straight. If he had been at his peak, he would never even have tried to kill Hermione. Yes. That must also be it. His subconscious was helping him.

xxx

Hermione managed to keep her legs from shaking until she made it into the bathroom. Once inside, she sank down on the floor, shaking so badly her teeth were chattering.
He had tried to kill her. Her husband had actually tried to kill her. She had always known it was probably just a matter of time. His paranoia and emotional dysfunctionality was really aggravating to live with. He couldn’t stand being talked back to, but there was only so much bullshit she could take before she snapped. Not that it gave him the right to try to kill her! Merlin’s sake, no.
She didn’t want to be surprised. He was Lord Voldemort, and she knew exactly what he was capable of. But a part of her was surprised. And wounded. Voldemort had done so much to protect her. It had been just a few days ago when he had stopped a curse from hitting her! Why would he try to actually kill her now? Was the line so easy to cross for him?
Of course it was. He had done this for longer than she had lived. It was why she’d taken precautions. Yet, it still hurt that they’d been necessary.
No, she shouldn’t be surprised. Thus, she focused on her other emotions. She was angry, and at the same time, so utterly relieved.
It had worked.
Better yet, Voldemort hadn’t realised a thing. His arrogance and fear had helped her fool him. He didn’t want to think that there was anyway anyone else could control him. Thus, he didn’t want to realise that she could control his magic.
Or rather, her magic.
Merlin, it was a blessing in disguise that he had been feeding off of her magic for all this time. It was many years ago when she had started to see the benefit of him taking the magic they created when they had sex. The magic was still tied to her when they were having sex, even though it was going into him. And just like she had control over all her magic, there was some ways she could control the magic inside of him.
She had begun researching it soon after their wedding. It was unbelievably foolish of him to think that she would ever let him get away with being able to hurt her and their children. There was no way she could ever let him have that power. Thus, she had found a way to stop him, if needed. Like tonight. She would never allow Voldemort to take her away from her children.
She had placed a magical block inside of him. Fed it to him, little by little, while they had sex. He hadn’t noticed a thing. And unless he tried to harm any of them seriously, he would never notice a thing. All it did was stop his magic at her command.
He didn’t want to realise that. Just like he hadn’t wanted to pretend that she had removed his curse from her ages ago.
As her shaking eased, she found herself biting back a chuckle.
Stupid, arrogant prick.
Merlin, it would have been so satisfying to rub it in his face. To show him that she wasn’t under his control. No, he was under hers. However, that would break the tentative peace they had established, and she couldn’t be selfish. She hadn’t lied; they needed to prioritise Althea.
At least she knew it worked. That was a huge relief. He wouldn’t be able to hurt any of them with his magic. Not that she thought it was a big risk. She knew how much he needed them all. If there were anyone at risk in this family, it was him. Especially now that Althea hated him.
Hermione wondered how long it would take before Althea’s temper and magic got the better of her, and Hermione had to protect Voldemort instead.

xxx

Althea woke up the next day, feeling disconnected from reality. It was hard to explain, even to herself. She just didn’t know how to deal with everything. Therefore, she simply did what she would normally do after waking up; she went to the loo, got dressed, and made her way down for breakfast.
At the top of the stairs, she paused. The door to her parents’ room was open, suggesting they were already up and about. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see her parents yet.
Her eyes fell on the closed door to her sister’s room. Perhaps she should go and see how Alex was before going down to breakfast? Somehow, it would be easier to face Voldemort with Alexandra there.
She carefully opened the door; if her sister were asleep, she didn’t want to wake her. Just peeking inside, she was surprised to see her father sitting next to the bed, his wand over Alexandra. There was a soft green shimmer over Alexandra’s body, and she looked as if she was sleeping. For a moment, Althea thought he was hurting her, but then, Alexandra opened her eyes.
“Will you be done soon?” Alexandra asked, looking at her father.
“In a moment, precious,” Voldemort replied, squeezing her hand. “But the healing is clearly helping if you have enough energy to be impatient.”
Alexandra sighed; then her eyes caught Althea, and she smiled.
“Althea!”
Reluctantly, Althea entered the room.
“Hi, Alex,” she said, trying to ignore her father. “How are you feeling?”
“Lots better,” Alexandra replied, and she did sound more cheerful than she had the other day. “But I’m hungry.”
The shimmer around Alexandra’s body disappeared, and Voldemort put his wand away. “Good thing I’m done. Why don’t we go down for breakfast?”
He made his way out the room, and Alexandra and Althea followed at a slower pace.
“Can we play something after breakfast?” Alexandra asked.
“What do you want to play?” Althea asked, feeling a bit happier. It felt like ages since she last played with her sister, and it was a good sign that Alexandra felt strong enough to play.
“Hogwarts!” Alexandra exclaimed just as they reached the stairs.
Althea felt a strange tug in her chest. It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, she had wanted nothing more than go to Hogwarts. Then she had seen Lupin and Potter and been scared, and then, Morgana had come…
She hadn’t wanted to go to Hogwarts after Morgana had showed up. Now, Althea found that a bit strange. How could she have forgotten how much she had looked forward to go to Hogwarts?
“You can play teacher again,” Alexandra began to ramble. “And show me all those things with the wand. Do you think Dad will let us use his spare again so I can try something, too? Or can I use yours? Or do you want to play the Sorting? I could be the hat!”
Althea shook off her confusion and tried to just focus on her sister. It didn’t matter what had happened. She and her sister could play Hogwarts again, and that was fun at least.

xxx

Hermione had just served herself some tea when Voldemort entered the kitchen. She could hear her daughters talking upstairs, making their way down.
“How did it go?” she asked, not looking at him.
“Good. A few more days, and she’ll be as good as new,” Voldemort replied, pouring himself some tea before sitting down next to her.
They didn’t say another word to each other as the girls entered the room, talking about playing. They didn’t notice the tension between their parents, and Hermione was thankful for that.
Voldemort had pretended to sleep once she finally made it to bed the night before. She knew he had only pretended because he never fell asleep before she did. Exhaustion, however, had finally taken its toll on her, and she had got a few hours of uneasy sleep.
“Dad, can I borrow your other wand?” Alexandra asked, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts. “We’re going to play Hogwarts, and I want to shoot some stars!”
“I’m sorry, honey, but you have to be very careful with your magic over the next few days,” Voldemort answered her, slicing some cheese for his sandwiches. “But once you are better, I’ll teach you some new spells.”
“Really?” Alexandra gasped in delight, her cereal-filled spoon stopping halfway to her mouth.
“Yes, it’s part of your rehabilitation,” Voldemort said with a smile.
“Reba-what?” Alexandra asked, frowning.
“To make sure you are healed,” he explained. “But if you want to play Hogwarts, I can transfigure your room to look like a classroom.”
“Yay!” Alexandra squealed. “Thanks, Dad!”
Hermione forced herself not to snort. At least he was trying to show his best side to his daughters. It was something. However, judging by Althea’s sullen expression, he wasn’t succeeding. Not yet at least. Hermione was starting to suspect that now Voldemort was fully committed to make Althea like him again, he would make it so. No one could stand against Voldemort’s charm.
When the other three were done with breakfast, they disappeared up the stairs to start to play. Hermione stayed where she was, pouring herself another cup of tea and summoning the Daily Prophet. She hadn’t dared to look at it earlier. It was just a matter of time before the media found out what had happened. It was just a question on what came first: Harry’s imprisonment, Ken’s death, or Althea’s return. That a student had disappeared from the Hogwarts Express had received a whole spread, where the journalist questioned the security of the children.
Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the newspaper. Harry’s face stared back at her, looking serious and collected. The headline was “Harry Potter arrested for attempted murder.”
She opened the newspaper and found the article. Reading through it, the only thing she felt was relief that none of their names had been mentioned. Tamsin deserved a raise. No doubt she had threatened to sue the Daily Prophet if they printed their names. The last thing they need was a lot of curious people and journalists stopping by.
Scanning through the rest of the newspaper, she found a notice of Ken’s death (where he was only mentioned as a foreign professor here on business), and a half-page long article of “Missing Hogwarts student returned safely.” That was good. Those two articles would not be noticed with Harry on the front page. Hopefully, no one outside the Auror force would connect Ken’s death with Althea’s reappearance.
She finished her tea at the same time as Voldemort came back downstairs. She pushed the newspaper to him. He just glanced at the front page.
“Are we mentioned?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Tamsin managed to threaten the right people,” Voldemort said, starting to clear the table.
“Apparently so,” Hermione replied quietly and got up to leave.
Before she reached the doorway, Voldemort grabbed her arm, stopping her. She looked at him questioningly. She didn’t want to start a new fight with him, but she didn’t want to talk to him more than she absolutely had to.
“When are you going to get over this?” he asked.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she replied, making an unsuccessful attempt to remove her arm from his hold .
He wouldn’t let go of her. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She sighed. “No, you aren’t.”
He took a deep breath and let go of her arm. “But I’m apologising. I was tired. My temper—”
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s everyone’s fault but yours,” she remarked bitterly.
“Hermione,” he said, sighing. “You know I don’t want to hurt you. Or the girls.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And I didn’t hurt you last night, I just…” he trailed off, grimacing.
Hermione didn’t say anything. The least he could to was squirm for a few days. Not that he actually regretted his actions, but he would be lying low, so he wouldn’t upset her further. That was just what she needed right now. Some peace and quietness.
“Let’s just keep our distance for a few days,” Hermione said in a low voice. She did not want to disturb the girls. “We’ll focus on the girls and then … we’ll see.”
She turned around and walked up the stairs. Behind her, she could hear Voldemort curse under his breath. But he didn’t try to come after her. Good. That meant he understood just how pissed she was and that he would have to actually work to get her back. Even though Hermione had stopped him, she was not letting him get away that easily with trying to kill her. Oh no. He would have to redeem himself.

xxx

After the Mental Healer had been there, Althea stayed in the library, thinking about taking refuge in her books. Alas, it didn’t take long until her parents entered, sitting down to read their own things. Nevertheless, Althea stayed. She could disappear into the world of the books. At least, that was the plan, until her father interrupted her.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
Althea looked up, frowning at him. Even before she had found out that he was Voldemort, her father had never been that interested in what she read for her own amusement. He was more for giving her books he thought she should read.
“The Hogwarts book,” Althea muttered, hoping that would make him lose interest.
“Haven’t you read it before?” he asked. To her great annoyance, he put a mark in the book he was reading and turned his whole attention on her.
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, I was just thinking that maybe you would like to learn something new about Hogwarts?” he suggested.
“Marcus,” Hermione said, looking up with a frown. She was sitting curled up in an armchair at the opposite side of the library from Althea, going through some old parchment. “I must have read that book twenty times growing up. It was one of my favourites.”
Voldemort sighed. “Fine. But still, you and I could tell her a lot more about the castle than that book ever covers. It doesn’t even take up the Room of Requirement. Or why the Whomping Willow is on the school grounds. Or the true story about the Chamber of Secrets.”
Stupid parents, making her curious against her will.
Althea looked down in her book again, trying to focus, but she wanted to know what her father was talking about. She had only read the myth of the Chamber of Secrets. What could Voldemort know about it?
“Mum?” Alexandra called from her room. After playing with Althea, Alexandra had been exhausted and gone to bed, but now she must have woken up from her nap.
“Coming,” Hermione replied, carefully putting the parchments on the table before rising. She gave Voldemort a strict look before she left the room.
She had only just closed the door when Voldemort turned to Althea again. “Do you want to hear a story?”
“No,” Althea muttered.
“Well, you will anyway, so pay attention.” He summoned the book from her hands and looked at which page she was on. “Ah, you have only just started. You’re still reading about the founders. Which one do you think is the coolest?”
She shrugged.
Voldemort rolled his eyes. “Well, there are a lot of things that aren’t covered here. Like how the founders had families all over the world. Perhaps I should tell you one of those stories?”
Althea didn’t answer. She was curious, but at the same time… No, she didn’t know what she wanted. Thus, she kept quiet.
“Once upon a time, there was a boy called Tom Riddle,” Voldemort started, his voice getting that alluring tone, which made it impossible for her not to listen. “His father had abandoned him before he was even born, and his mother had been weak and died at his birth. He was left alone at an orphanage in London, hated by everyone just because he was different. It was a Muggle orphanage, and he was a wizard. Since no one from the magical world saw fit to contact him, he didn’t know he was a wizard. He just knew he was different.
“His only friends were the snakes he occasionally found in the garden. He could talk to snakes, but no one else could, so he didn’t tell anyone about his abilities. The snakes kept his secrets. He told them about all the weird things he could do, like making things fly by just looking at them and making people do things if he wanted them to. The snakes listened, but they were not great companions. Tom wanted human friends.
“Then, when he was eleven-and-a-half, a strange man came to see him. He told Tom about wizards and magic, and how Tom had been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Voldemort paused, looking into the distance. “Once he got a hold of real wizarding books, Tom read everything he could about this strange new world. He was afraid the people there would be just as hateful as the people at the orphanage. Still, he would go there, because at least he would be with people who could teach him more about himself and his magic.”
Against her will, Althea got curious. Her father had always been great at storytelling. “Did he make any friends?”
“Oh yes,” Voldemort answered softly. “But it was hard. He got into Slytherin, and there were mostly pure-bloods there. Some of them didn’t want to accept him at first, since he was an orphan from the Muggle world. But Tom was clever and powerful, and once he started to excel at his classes, the other students were eager to have him as a friend.”
Voldemort smiled. “Not only that, but he soon discovered that one of the Founders of Hogwarts, Salazar Slytherin, could speak to snakes as well. It is a very unusual gift, passed down from parent to child. Tom was the last heir of Salazar Slytherin.”
Althea gasped. “I can talk to snakes, too!”
He chuckled. “Indeed. You see, Tom grew up, and when he was older, he met a woman named Hermione Granger. They had sex, and nine months later, Salazar Slytherin got another heir, Althea Granger.” He smiled at her. “Being my daughter isn’t all bad, Althea. Of course, most of this will have to stay a secret, but the important thing is that you know just how special you are.”
Althea felt her chest tighten. “I know I’m special. Morgana always says so.”
From the corner of her eye, she could see her father clench his fist. However, it only lasted for a second, then he relaxed his hand again.
“Yes, she was right about that at least,” he said to Althea’s surprise.
She glanced up at him. He was staring off into the distance with a troubled expression on his face. He must want her to see that he was troubled. Usually, she could never read his expressions. He always wore a mask of calm or indifference if he didn’t lose his temper. If he lost his temper, the whole world could see how angry he was. It had only happened a few times, for as far she knew, though. When she had seen him like that, it had all been during extreme circumstances.
“You haven’t cried over Ken,” she said out loud, suddenly realising how strange that was.
Voldemort looked at her, smiling tiredly. “Have you ever seen me cry at all?”
Althea frowned, thinking hard. Then, she shook her head. “But Ken was your best friend. You must be sad.”
“Of course I am sad,” he stated softly. “But I’m not one who cries when I’m sad. I take action. I avenged Ken.”
Althea’s frown deepened. “But you lied to the Aurors about what happened. They think some other people killed Ken. You told me the fairies did it.”
If her father could lie so carelessly to the Aurors, what was to say he wasn’t lying to her? Could she ever trust another word her father said to her again?
Voldemort sighed and leaned towards her in the armchair. “I lied to the Aurors to protect myself. I can’t have them finding out about me. They will kill me if they do. Do you understand that?”
Her expression darkened, and she crossed her arms. “Yeah, you deserve that.”
He looked almost wounded. “Do you really think so, Althea? Do you really hate me so much that you want to see me dead?”
Althea hesitated, feeling uneasy. “You are evil.”
“The world is not divided into good and evil, Althea. It all depends on where you are standing. I know that a lot of people think I’m evil, but that’s because they are scared of my power. They don’t want me to win, because that will mean they’ll lose their power.”
“But you have done evil things! You have killed people!” Althea objected.
“So has your mother. So has Harry Potter. The only reason people don’t think they are evil is because they did it in the name of some ‘greater good’. They don’t even dare to stand up and take responsibility for their own actions.”
“But they do good things, too,” Althea retorted. “Harry put away dangerous people and brought justice; and Mum is a teacher; and she helps students; and she is nice.”
“I’m a teacher that helps students, too,” Voldemort reminded her. “And I do a lot of other good things, too. I was a part in creating you, after all. How can I be evil, when I made something as perfect as you?”
Althea squirmed in her seat, not sure how to best approach her father. “Morgana did good things, too, but you still killed her. That is evil.”
“Once again, that was self-defense. If we hadn’t killed her, she would have killed us. But … if it is justice you seek, then fine.” Suddenly, he got down on his knees on the floor, in front of her. With a wave of his wand, her own wand came flying into her hand.
“Avenge Morgana, Althea. That’s what you really want. You don’t care if I’m good or evil, you just want to avenge your friend. So fine. Do what you want to me. If you really think it will be best if I am dead, then kill me yourself.”
Althea stared at him, horrified. Did her father really want her to...?
Voldemort took her left hand and placed his wand in it, before letting go. She felt the much longer wand grow warm in her hand. She stared at it, and then, up to her father again. He was staring at her, his face very serious.
“Go ahead. Do what you need to avenge your friend. I won’t stop you,” he stated, showing his empty hands.
Althea slowly rose from the armchair. Sitting on his knees with his back straight, her father was almost the same height as her. He was just an arm’s length away. The room around them had gone terribly silent. She couldn’t even hear the murmur of her mother’s voice, reading to Alexandra. It was just her and Voldemort.
Lord Voldemort.
The Dark Lord.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Someone she had learned to fear and hate, long before she found out who he really was. Everyone hated him. She remembered James Potter bragging about how he would seek Voldemort out when he was older and finish off what his father had started. He had talked about Voldemort like he was an animal that needed to be put down.
Althea had agreed. Voldemort had just been a monster to her before. Now he was kneeling here, in her father’s features. Staring at her with her father’s dark-blue eyes. He didn’t look like a monster. Despite everything she knew he had done, everyone he had killed and hurt, he didn’t look like a monster.
For a moment, she wanted him to look like a monster. She wanted him to look like he had done in the cellar two nights before. Then she could have cursed him.
Now, she found that she couldn’t. His wand was in her hand. She knew curses. Nothing that could kill someone, but she knew curses that could hurt and make him bleed. If she made him bleed enough, then he would die. She knew that.
But she couldn’t.
Her eyes welled with tears. She dropped both wands, reached out and slapped her father across the face. A loud “SMACK” resounded through the library. She spun around and raced out of the library, angrily brushing her tears away.
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