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Broken by the Dark Lord	By : Kanashii Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 6067 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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�� Lucius Malfoy
glanced at the nude chained up woman before him. She had been whipped, beaten,
and tortured with both the Crucio and Imperius curse, but now she was barely
conscious and Malfoy was using his wand to clean his cock of her blood and the
juices of his rape of her. His torture of her had been exquisite and the muggle
wench had spilled her guts to his master who had watched this horrific scene
impartially in the corner.

� �You are getting
crueler in your interrogations, Malfoy.��
Voldemort hissed, �This pleases me.�

�� Malfoy just nodded
slightly and respectfully to his Master as he cleaned the rest of the woman�s
blood off him. Her muggle fluids on him revolted him, but it was the catalyst
that had fueled his dark rage.

� �Mulciber�� The Dark
Lord whispered to the other death eater who had been a part of this horrific interrogation.
�End her life.�

� Mulciber nodded and
then pulling his wand out pointed it at the nearly unconscious woman �avada kedavra� and the magical green jet
shot out and instantly put the writhing muggle out of her misery.

� �You are dismissed
Mulciber.� Voldemort curtly ordered and once the other death eater had left,
Voldemort turned back to the now fully dressed and immaculately clean Lucius
Malfoy.

�� Do you remember the witch I had in here the
other day, the equine animagus?� Voldemort eyed Malfoy, �You should, you
certainly seemed to enjoy breaking her to your will and riding her across the
moor�s.�

�� Of course my
Lord.� Malfoy nodded warily. Would the Dark Lord perhaps keep his promise to
give the witch to him full time to break even further?

�� As if reading Malfoy�s mind the Dark Lord
spoke, �I have great plans for her.� Voldemort walked up to the corpse of the
muggle woman and almost lewdly ran one of his long fingers in the still
dripping blood from the �SectrumSempra�
jinx; he had cast earlier on her. �I have Severus working with her now,
probably for the next several months, however�� and finally the Dark Lord
turned to Malfoy facing him fully.

�You will indeed get to be her instrument of punishment and
compliance.� Next to him Voldemort could almost feel Lucius tremor with sadistic
need. �Make no mistake Malfoy.� The Dark Lord glared at his death eater, �She
is to remain alive and in relatively good health. But once a week you will have
two hours with her, as her second teacher. I want her fear and obedience of me
ensured and drilled into her very soul. However, kill her or ruin her
permanently�.�

�� Voldemort did not
even need to finish the sentence. Lucius could feel the cold certainty of his
Master as though he had stabbed him in the heart with one of those long fingers
of his. In fact, Lucius� Dark Mark began to tingle ominously almost as a
premonition of what Voldemort would do to him if he didn�t follow the Master�s
orders implicitly. �I fully understand my Master.� Lucius bowed deeply.

�� The Dark Lord had
held out his hand and suddenly that black cruel bridle had magically appeared
in his grasp. He held it out to Lucius Malfoy. �Miranda bears my Dark Mark now,
Lucius. She is MINE.� The Dark Lords words slithered through Malfoy�s very
soul. �Only I have the power to grant her death, but once a week you will take
her to your estate, or to the moors and you will teach her exactly why she has
reason to fear and totally respect us. Is my meaning clear?�

�� Crystal clear, my Lord.�
Malfoy took the bridle one of his elegant hands running along the sharpened
bit. It cut his finger as easily as razor sharp knife. �Utterly, crystal
clear.� He repeated and bowed again.

�� In seven days you
will take her for her first lesson with you. I expect her to turn out to be a
fine steed in the end. After all, I may very well want to ride her myself one
day soon, up the slopes of Mt. Etna, or perhaps over Albus Dumbledore�s
corpse.� The Dark Lord gave a short harsh laugh at this, and while Lucius
didn�t understand his Master�s meaning, he could feel the cruelness in that
hollow laugh of his.

� �Now leave me.�
Voldemort demanded as he watched Malfoy exit the dungeon door.

�Wormtail,�
Voldemort touched his own Dark Mark and sent a message to his servant, �I have a body in the dungeon that needs to
be disposed of. Take care of it.�

�� Voldemort then apparated
up to his private living room; Nagini awoke from her place by the fire and
slithered over to her master, her forked tongue scenting the air and then
flicking at the remnant of the Muggles blood on her Master�s finger. Voldemort
watched with red eyes as it stormed angrily outside, the rain beating upon his
the windows of his estate to match the darkness within his heart. He indeed did
have great plans for Miranda Vitale; her father was a high level prosecutor in
the Italian government, one of the very few who had power to actually cause
problems and chaos within the Sicilian Mafia. Already Don Bruno, Don Vittorio
and Don Ruggerio had promised their undying support to the Dark Lord�s agent,
and those three Mafia Don�s had strong ties to the American and Canadian Mafia
as well. Miranda would be trained, honed and then sent back to Sicily to not
only kill her father, but to then act as the Dark Lord�s intermediary between
the Don�s the Dark Lord and to throw a wrench into the Italian governments
prosecution of the Sicilian Mafia Families.

�� He had tried this
once with Furio, to turn him, to have an inside agent within the government and
between the Don�s, but when Voldemort had fallen after attacking the Potters,
Furio Vitale had backed out and turned against him. Now if his plans worked as
he hoped, Miranda would be that new intermediary between the very people her
father was persecuting, and even better would be the instrument of her father�s
death.

�� It was exactly as
Voldemort had said to Lucius the other day; while he was powerful indeed, he
could not be everywhere at once. He needed more followers, supporters, spies
and turncoats. Already he was close to having the Dementors turned from Azkaban
and under his total control. Fenrir Greyback and the werewolves were clamoring
to serve him, and he had two delegations sent out to make contact with the
Giants. He needed the muggle criminal groups to merge unknowingly under him as
well, and the Sicilian Mafia was a much more stable and profitable criminal
group than some of the smaller gangs that resided in the American cities.

�� A suddenly loud clap of thunder made a smile
flicker on his skull like face. Yes, now was his time for careful planning
indeed. For the first time in many weeks, the Dark Lord felt unbridled euphoria
flow through his veins.

�� Miranda awoke
slowly, one eye blinked in the gloomy grey light of the room. The storm from
last night seemed to have intensified; it still was raining buckets slashing at
the dirty windowpane like harsh claws.�
She groaned and wearily rolled over, noticing that the fire in the
fireplace was now burning brightly as though someone had recently been in her
room to stoke it. She saw two new vials of potions on the nightstand next to
her and a small note written in cramped small writing in Italian. �Drink these two potions, then after your
morning chores come downstairs. �Snape-�

� ��Almost on autopilot she followed the
Professor�s simple instructions. Her muscles were still sore and aching, but as
she glanced at her body she could indeed see the wounds were far more healed
than had they been allowed to heal mundanely.�
Like Snape had saw, she could tell there would be permanent scars on
her, and she could still vividly recall every detail of nearly every event
since she had been kidnapped from Sicily. It seemed like months ago and yet she
knew it was only two days ago. Her mind worried about her father, how he was
holding up. She knew her disappearance would be heartbreaking for both her
parents, and she remembered the cruel confession of Lord Voldemort telling her
it had been on his orders that her beloved Uncle Furio had been killed. The
happy, extroverted and handsome man, who had been like her, a wizard and
animagus. She could still see his sleek hawk form soaring over the beautiful
Italian countryside, as if it had only been yesterday she had seen him.

�� As she stood up and
stretched she noticed there was a pile of various clothes in her size neatly
and precisely folded atop the dresser: Slacks, two simple but attractive
dresses, a pair of jeans, some undergarments, several warm sweaters as well as
some socks and shoes. There were also a set of robes, done in the style of
black and green, she had never seen robes like these and felt they were somehow
wizarding type clothing. �With a slight
shudder she realized that Snape must have been up here while she had been
sleeping tending to the fire, putting the clothing there for her and the
potions. Had he been watching her sleeping? Had the dour teacher done anything
to her while she had been unconscious? Somehow deep within her heart she didn�t
think so. She knew he could be cruel, sharp tongued and as dark and gloomy as
his small cramped house, but somehow deep in her very soul she just didn�t feel
Snape was like the vicious Malfoy or the other death eaters. There was
something deeply hidden and tightly restrained in him, she had glimpsed it
momentarily the other day when he had roughly grabbed her face a moment. She
had seen the briefest flicker of remorse and even sympathy on his face. A part
of her wondered if �they� would ever let her go, and a part of her wondered if
she wouldn�t be better off simply finding a way to kill herself before that
cruel Voldemort had her do any more despicable acts.

�� I know you are up
and awake!� Professor Snape�s cold voice abruptly called from downstairs, �I
clearly hear you stomping around up there. I do not have all day to be waiting
for you.� She could hear a definite growl in his voice, �So get down here for
breakfast and your lessons, before I fetch you bodily.�

� His voice had been
like a dash of cold water on her wandering thoughts and she hurriedly got
dressed and practically ran down the stairs and through the secret panel.
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Broken by the Dark Lord