Heir Of Voldemort

One year later - "Order of the Phoenix."

Notes: Just to warn you, this is where the HP fandom is going to cease to be as JKR planned it, simply because SHE HASN'T GOT THE BLOODY BOOK (THAT WAS MEANT TO BE OUT THIS SUMMER) OUT YET!

And no, it really doesn't bother me that much.

Honest.

_________________

It was as dark as ever, the jet-black stone of the walls only covered here and there with green and silver banners marked with a serpent.

At regular intervals along the floor, black steel torch stands stood, flames flickering and reflecting of the black stone around them. They cast eerie shadows over the circle of cowled men and women standing before a throne.

"What news?" The Inner Circle of Death Eaters was once again assembled before Lord Voldemort, backed by the younger generations. His scarlet gaze scanned over each of them, challenging any of them to step forward. "Well?"

"We have found no sign of her, my Lord."

Snape, his lips pressed together in a tight line, almost smirked at the fear in Lucius Malfoy's voice.

It was seen as the notorious wizard's fault that Bones had vanished in the first place and that was something which he had been regularly punished for since their Master had returned.

After the Hell Malfoy had put Snape through, this was initially one of the few people that Snape could bear seeing under the cruciatus curse, receiving a strange catharsis from the man's screams at first.

However, the number of times that the curse had been placed on Malfoy in recent days, since Voldemort's return barely two months earlier, was beginning to unnerve Snape. He was no longer able to watch it, unable to tolerate the screams.

Voldemort's wand came up in a swift, flowing motion and he breathed a single word, "Crucio."

Malfoy was on the floor before the Dark Lord's throne instantly, writhing in agony and shrieking for mercy in a heartbeat, while Voldemort cheerily swept his wand from side to side.

"You know that this all for your own good, you know, Lucius," he drawled. "I left one possession of mine for you to protect and shelter. You were terribly clumsy and misplaced her, which I find very disappointing...yes, disappointing..."

Bile rose in Snape's throat as Malfoy's screams grew more high-pitched in intensity and he started making gargling sounds, usually a sign that a blood vessel had burst from the sheer effort of screaming.

There was a swishing sound as Voldemort broke of the spell and sudden silence, but for the gasping of Malfoy.

A slighter figure from further back the ranks of lesser Death Eaters hurried forward and started to lever the fallen Malfoy to his feet, to aid him back to his place in the circle, but Voldemort raised a hand.

"Return to your place, boy," his voice was low.

"But..."

"Draco," Malfoy gasped, shakily standing on his own two feet. "Obey our Master."

The slight form of Malfoy Junior shot a venomous look at Voldemort from beneath the hood of his cloak, which could only be interpreted as anger.

Voldemort chuckled, fingering his wand lazily. "He certainly has spirit, Lucius," he remarked softly. "Be sure he learns when it is fitting to use it," His expression turned cold. "It may get him in trouble."

"He-he will learn, my Lord," Swaying on his feet, Malfoy staggered forward unsteadily, kneeling to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes. "I will teach him loyalty to you, our master..."

"See that he learns, Lucius, and does so quickly. I would hate to be forced to make an example of him," The wand seemed to vanish between the Dark Lord's long, white fingers. "But now, you will continue to seek out my Heir," Scarlet eyes flicked around the room. "I grow impatient."

Hushed murmurs of "Yes, my Lord," passed around the room, before the group used the hidden doorway in one of the walls to exit to the chosen Death Eater's abode, where Voldemort's `home' was concealed for several days.

***

"But the spell!"

Ethan took Cassandra's small hands between his gently. "I know, Cassie, but this is You-Know-Who. He'll use any means possible to find you and Alexander," Brown eyes stared up at him as if he had betrayed her. "I knew I said it would be foolproof, but I didn't count on how fanatical he would be about it."

Cassandra shook her head stubbornly, her face screwed up with a combination of anger, fear and misery. "But he can't, Ethan...can't find us...we're on a Hellmouth... and the spell..."

"Luv, I wish it was that simple, but he has people in the Ministry and they know people who aren't afraid to use demon and muggle sources..."

Cassandra jerked her hands free from his, standing up and stalking away from the bench. Several feet down the path, she swung around, the moonlight reflecting on the tears on her cheeks.

"And what am I supposed to do?" she demanded shrilly. "Wait for him to get here, find us, somehow, and take my little boy?"

"He might not..."

"But he might," She finished for him, hugging herself tightly, as Ethan got to his feet and slowly approached her. Turning her back, she tried to smother a quiet sob. "I-I trusted you, Ethan."

His hands came down on her shoulders gently. "Cass..."

In a heartbeat, she was in his arms, sobbing bitterly. "They can't take Alex to his father, Ethan," she wept. "They can't...he'd be...they'd kill him right away...he's more muggle than wizard..."

"Unless I told him who he was and gave him his powers, so he could fight..."

"No! I won't let that happen! I..." Cassandra paused, one hand raised to prevent Ethan from arguing. "What was that?"

A growl from nearby made them turn slightly and Ethan groaned. "Now I remember why its not a good idea to have private meetings in a cemetery in the middle of Sunnydale," With a gesture, a shard of wood snapped off the bench and lodged in the vampire's chest. "There's always a gate-crasher."

The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust.

"So, luv, what were you saying?"

"Duck!" A blast from her wand knocked a vampire's head off and it dissolved into dust. Her eyes scanned around and she slipped her wand away. "Any chance we can take this elsewhere?"

"Somewhere without the undead spying on us?" Grasping her hand, he made a sweeping gesture with his other hand and the air blurred around them.

Cassandra took in their change of location. "Um...I didn't mean on the roof of the house, but if you think this'll work..." Ethan gave her a small smile, that she always remembered from school. "So...Alex isn't going to get his powers."

"It's a choice of that or...well, I don't think you'd want to do the other one..."

"Try me."

Ethan studied her face. "You go to Voldemort and tell him to leave off until Alex is older and in full control of his powers," As he expected, she blanched at the thought of it, shivering violently. "Cass, do you want him to steal Alex by force?"

"I don't want him to get my baby ever," her voice was trembling.

"He's not going to and you know it, Cass," Ethan slid an arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side, resting his chin on the top of her head. "But if you're going to outwit a Dark Lord, you're going to have to do something terrible...you have to tell fibs to him."

Despite the severity of the situation, Cassandra couldn't help giggling, snuggling against her long-term friend and lover's side. However, she sobered quickly. "Ethan, I-I don't think I could face him..."

"You could lie to him, though?"

"He thought that I was pleased to be carrying his child last time he saw me," she said softly, without further elaboration.

Pressing a kiss to her brow, Ethan stroked her hair gently. "You're one helluva actress, luv," he said softly. "How you could even be brave enough to look at him, let alone..." He shook his head wonderingly. "You're amazing."

"And terrified," she admitted. "I...I hoped he was dead, just so I wouldn't have to see him again."

His cheek pressed against her thick hair, Ethan pondered for a few minutes, then remarked. "I do have an idea, luv," he said. "And if we play our cards right, he won't bother us again, if Dumbledore and his pack manage to do what they're planning before Alex turns eighteen."

"Why eighteen?"

Turning her face to his, Ethan smiled. "Just trust me on this Cass."

"I think I can manage that," She smiled faintly, before meeting his lips with hers.

***

"What news?"

A visible shudder rippled around the circle of Death Eaters.

Every gathering had begun with those words since Voldemort had returned and no news had yet been found of the location of the Heir of the Dark Lord, or the mother of the child herself.

On the edge of one of the circles, the Death Eaters studied the floor, as if fascinated by it. The less one said at these meetings, the less chance you stood of being blasted with the cruciatus curse.

"Master, perhaps she is..."

"We are not here to speculate, Avery," Voldemort said quietly, his hands curled around the arms of his throne. "And, as you discovered, she was rather adept at taking care of herself, was she not?"

The flush of humiliation from the Death Eater was almost palpable.

Before little Bones had been found to be pregnant with the Heir, Avery had tried to press his luck with her. He had not been able to walk for days and that was before he had been punished for touching the Dark Lord's concubine.

"So you wish us to continue searching?" Malfoy's voice pre-empted Voldemort's next words.

"I want her found. I don't care if she has hexed herself," Voldemort's soft voice had grown harsh. "No more excuses. She is to be brought to me immediately. I will brook no more disappointment from you."

"Ah, what it is to feel missed," a female voice spoke from the back of the group of younger Death Eaters. Voldemort rose to his feet, trying not to show his anger at the violation of his sanctuary.

"Who dares to speak?" he hissed.

The crowd of teenage dark wizards parted, revealing a slight cloaked figure leaning against the wall, casually filing her nails. Her face was hidden by a cowl, but - as the crowd dispersed around her - she straightened up and pushed the hood back.

"Good evening," Cassandra Bones said calmly, a small, enigmatic smile on her lips.

Those of the Inner Circle who recognised her simply stared at her in astonishment, while Voldemort stepped down from the small dais upon which his throne stood, his robes rustling.

"You," Voldemort was staring at her with something akin to religious fervour.

Pushing off from the wall, Cassandra approached the Dark Lord, sinking gracefully down on her knees and lifting the hem of his robes to her lips. Brown eyes rose to him and he extended a spidery hand down to her.

"My Lord," Drawn to her feet by the Dark Wizard, she bowed her head. "Forgive my late arrival," Her eyes flicked to the circle of Death Eaters. "I could find no one to inform me of your whereabouts."

"You have come alone?" There was a suggestion of anger in his eyes.

She raised those dark eyes to his. "My Lord, I come to beg your favour," He inclined his head for her to continue. "For fourteen years, I have raised and protected your son from the Ministry and those who would harm him. I come to beg that you allow me to continue to conceal him, until he is of age and strong enough to fight for himself with both magic and physical power."

"I would educate and protect him."

"My Lord, I am aware of this," She dropped to her knees again. "But understand that I have concealed him for so long already. Regain your empire, quash your enemies, and when you rule this world with none who would destroy your Heir, I will bring your son to you."

Voldemort seemed torn.

Part of him clearly desired his Heir, to train in the ways of dark magic, but a great deal of what the mother was saying made sense. Better for the boy to come to a powerful empire, than to falter and be lost before that empire was secured.

"Of course," he said softly, drawing her to her feet again. His white fingertip tilted her chin up and he bestowed a smile on her. "It is comforting to find you and he are both living."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"You will stay for a short time?" It was said as a question, but everyone in the room knew it was an order.

Brown eyes dipped down humbly. "If...if that is what you wish, my Lord, but I must return to your son..."

"Nevertheless, you will return to him, when I have finished with you," a trace of Voldemort's usual menace had returned to his voice. She stared back at him and didn't recoil as he touched his lips to hers.

Scarlet eyes closed, but her brown ones remained open, disgust etched there. His fingers wove through her mass of gold hair and he deepened the kiss, the witch unable to fight his touch.

The Death Eaters quickly dispersed, one remaining a few seconds longer to shoot a bewildered black-eyed look at the Dark Lord and his Dark Lady, as the woman's robes dropped from her body to the floor.

With a shudder of distaste, Snape disapparated with a pop.

***

Seated on the edge of the sumptuously decked bed, Cassandra Bones replaced her shoes upon her feet, then stood up, smoothing her trousers. She turned, looking down at the Dark Lord, who was asleep in the bed.

It was strange to see him like that.

Peacefully sleeping, he almost looked...normal.

Her fingers twitched to use her wand, but she knew that the wands of almost every Death Eater were neutralised as soon as they crossed into Voldemort's domain, lest someone try to attack him.

Physical attack was also pointless.

Even if she had been armed with more muggle-esque weapons, he would probably have woken and subdued her long before she could do much damage with her small, daintier form.

Sighing, she crossed the floor to pick up her black cloak and swung it around her thin shoulders, her back to the bed as she painstakingly fastened the bronze clasp at her throat.

A gasp of fright escaped her as bone-thin hands came down on her shoulders. "Did I give you leave to depart?" his voice was a low hiss, his breath cold against her neck and she shuddered.

"You...you were sleeping. I-I did not want to disturb you," She tilted her head slightly to look up at him.

"Very well," He traced a cool fingertip down her cheek, a slow smile reaching his lips. "I trust you will keep me informed of my son's progress," Cassandra nodded immediately, shivering. "I will await your correspondences."

Bowing her head, she turned to him. "May I leave now, my Lord?"

"Yes," Sweeping to one side, he allowed her access to the door. "Do not forget, child, I wish to be informed."

Nodding, Cassandra bowed her head once more, before disapparating from the main hall of the Dark Lord's Domain.

***

"Are...are you all right, Xander?"

Staring blindly at the TV screen, Alexander didn't turn at Willow's voice from behind him. He was distracted, trying to work out what could possibly be upsetting his mother.

She had been nervous, lately, jumpy. He couldn't put his finger on what could be affecting her, but he had to admit that a lot more weird stuff than usual seemed to be happening around Sunnydale.

That was probably it.

Beside him, the cushions of the couch shifted slightly and he turned to find Willow's concerned eyes studying him. Smiling weakly, he nodded towards the television. "Its the Snoopy Special."

"I know," She didn't look away from him, her brow wrinkling. "Xander, is there something wrong?" He opened his mouth to answer, but knew that whatever he was about to say would be a lie. "Xander, you can tell me..."

"It...it's okay, Will," He faked a smile. "Mom's just been kinda stressed out so I was thinking about her." The red head nodded patiently.

Of all the people he knew, Willow was the one who knew him best, knew about the issues his family had. Even Jesse couldn't say he knew everything about Alexander, while Wilow could name the dates he lost his first tooth, first rode a bike, first ate solid food...

She and his mother were never short of conversation material, he admitted with a quiet laugh, turning back towards the television. He had regularly walked into the kitchen in mornings, in his pyjamas, to find them sitting and talking about him.

"Hey!" He pointed to the television. "The Snoopy Dance!"

Scrambling over the arm of the couch, he immediately started dancing and Willow hid her mouth behind her hand, giggling. Even with their twelve years of friendship, she still covered her mouth when she laughed, as if it was something bad.

As he danced, he didn't notice her smile fading, her green eyes that were fixed on him still filled with concern. Maybe he had said everything was all right, but she knew better than that.

All she wanted to do was help him, but unable to do that, she applauded politely as he finished his dance, taking a bow and bouncing back down beside her on the couch, noticing the snacks she was carrying. "Ooh! Popcorn."

Holding out the bowl to him, Willow jolted as he flopped down, his head in her lap and continued to watch the Snoopy Special, munching on handfuls of popcorn. Her fingers stroked through his hair gently.

A tiny smile crossed her lips.

Maybe she couldn't help him...but this was good enough for her now.

***

"Did it work?" watching her son and his friend watching the television in the living room, through a narrow gap in the kitchen door, Cassandra spoke into the phone in a hushed voice. "Is he going to leave us alone?"

Ethan's familiar voice came back to her, sounding as strained as hers was. "I dunno about that yet, luv," he said. "What he said isn't enough of a guarantee?"

"It's never enough," she whispered. "You need to find out if the Death Eaters have been taken off our trail."

"I've got a meeting with Poison in about an hour or so, so I'll let you know as soon as I know."

"You...you sound tired."

He chuckled wearily. "I've been continent-hopping for the last two days straight almost... does tend to get a bit exhausting," he yawned. "Cassie, I don't wanna stop talking to you, but I..."

"I know, Ethan," she smiled sadly. "You sound like you're almost asleep as it is."

"I have to go to see Poison. I have to know you're safe. You and Alex," There was a moment's pause. "Skeleton?"

"Yes?"

"You know I love you, don't you?" Tears stung in Cassandra's eyes. She could hear the exhaustion, pain and longing in his voice. He was so far away and all she wanted to do was hold him. "Don't you?"

"Yes," she spoke hoarsely. "I love you too."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

She could visualize the tired smile on his lined face. "Go and look after your little boy, Cass," he ordered gently. "I'll talk to you as soon as I know any more about this whole mess."

"Take care, Ethan."

"You too, Skeleton," There was a quiet click, then the dull tone of the phone.

Cassandra hung the phone back in its cradle, leaning against the wall as twin tears rolled silently down her cheeks. Pressing her eyes shut, she forced down another wave and wiped her eyes with the heel of her right hand.

Sniffing hard, she blinked to hide any evidence of tears. Withdrawing her wand, she conjured a plate of pungent, golden-brown onion rings, her most reliable excuse when she emerged from the kitchen with watery eyes.

Picking it up, after concealing her wand, she pushed the door open. "Hey kids! What are you watching?"

***

"Are you insane?!"

Those were the first words that greeted Ethan as he apparated into the basement of Honeydukes. Illuminated by the flickering glow from the tip of his wand, Severus Snape was glaring at him furiously, black eyes glittering.

"Now that's not the welcome I was looking for," Wearily sitting down on one of the crates, Ethan ran a hand through his curly hair. "Sev, sit down, would you? You look like you're about to have a heart attack."

"How could you do something so idiotic?"

Green eyes met black. "Idiotic how?"

"How could you send her in there? What if he hadn't allowed her to leave?"

Ethan shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference," he said quietly.

"Surely you considered her son!" Snape was pacing angrily across the floor, sending clouds of dust in the air. "What if he had been left motherless, because you - the fool that you are - sent his mother straight to HIM?"

One hand rose. "Sev, like I said, it wouldn't have made a difference."

"She could have been placed under the cruciatus curse! Or the imperius!" his voice rising with rage, Snape turned on his ally, his fists balled. "She could have been killed and the effort put in by you and I would be in vain!"

"SEV!" Ethan's voice rose angrily. "Shut up for a moment!" His head drooped to his chest, his posture speaking of utter physical exhaustion. Snape seemed to notice and reluctantly sat down on the edge of another crate. "She was never there."

"What are you talking about?" Snape demanded irritably. "I saw her there. They saw her there. HE saw her there."

Ethan shook his head slowly from side to side, as if it were very heavy. "No, you didn't," he said softly. "It wasn't her."

"It...wasn't little Bones?" Ethan shook his head again. "Then who was it..." Green eyes - ringed with dark circles - met black again. Snape recoiled in shock, his mouth falling open. "No..."

"Polyjuice is incredible stuff." Ethan looked down at his hands, which were gripping his knees through his trousers. His voice was so low that Snape could barely hear a word he was saying.

"But You-Know-Who..." Disgust, awe and shock rivalled for places on the sallow-skinned teacher's face. He seemed to be having trouble finding words to express what he was thinking. "Ethan, he took her...I mean, he...you...surely you didn't..."

Ethan's eyes locked onto his hands again. "I did what was necessary to protect little Bones and the boy," his voice shook slightly, then he looked up at Snape. "She can never know, Sev. Do you understand me? She. Must. Never. Know."

Snape nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say.

"You..." after several minutes of uncomfortable silence, he spoke. "You must care a great deal for her."

"More than you know," Ethan acknowledged. "But that isn't why I'm here. Has he called off the search?"

The Potions Master nodded. "His attention is more focused on returning to the position he was in before his fall," His bony hands drummed on the top of the crate pensively. "I think he wants to wage war on Hogwarts, though. He wants Dumbledore out of the way."

"Is it possible?"

"Well, Dumbledore is finally being forced to acknowledge that he is no longer as young as he used to be..." Snape sadly admitted. "However, I believe that it's going to take some time for Voldemort to regain his full powers. By the time he is ready, who can say? There may be someone...or a group strong enough to face him."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

Snape smiled thinly. "I can ensure that the next generation of Death Eaters are lacking in magical skill and prowess, so that gives us a small advantage. We can hope that it - and the powerful muggle-borns - will be of use."

Ethan got to his feet slowly. "Thanks, Sev," He held out a hand, which Snape immediately enclosed with his own. Black met green again. "I'll keep in touch...you can have the privilege of being the envoy of the Mother of the Heir."

"Oh the joy."

Chuckling, the sandy-haired Wizard smiled. "I thought you would say that," He squeezed Snape's hand tightly. "Thanks for your help, Sev," The sincerity in his voice surprised the darker wizard. "Keep safe, all right?"

"Concern for my well-being?"

Ethan grinned, a boyish look crossing his rapidly-aging face. "Where else would I find a supplier as efficient as you?"

"Selfish bastard," Snape returned the grin wryly.

"Conceited git," Ethan released Snape's hand. "Like I said, take care."

"And you, Ethan. I'd hate to lose my best customer."

Shaking his head, Ethan disapparated with a pop. Less than a heartbeat later, there was another popping sound and the basement of the shop was - once more - empty, but for supplies, dust and the occasional mouse.

***

"Yes, Cass, I'm positive," Soaking in a steaming bath, Ethan held the phone against his ear with one hand, while scrubbing viciously at his body with a rough sponge with the other hand. "I spoke to Poison..."

"But he could be lying...or wrong!"

Wincing as he scrubbed harder, Ethan sighed. "Cass, luv, trust me. Sev wasn't lying about this. The hunt is off. All you have to do is worry about the Hellmouth reacting to your old man's resurfacing dark powers."

Cassandra's voice sounded tiny. "I still find it hard to believe a Death Eater."

"He hasn't blabbed about you or your squirt in the last fourteen years, Cass," Ethan reminded her. "I don't think he's about to start now."

"Yeah...I know..." There was a soft sigh. "Thanks, Ethan," He heard her gasp with fright or surprise. "I have to go, Ethan!" she said sharply. "Robert just got home."

"Love you."

"You too."

As the phone rang off, he quickly tossed it across the bathroom to land in the pile of his clothes. His attention returned to his lean body, a few scars dashed here and there to remind him to stay out of trouble.

The sponge was still grating against his skin and he wasn't surprised to see that he had scrubbed his chest and arms raw, while talking to Cassie, the tiny beads of blood gathering and spreading in a wash of pink over his torso.

He didn't care about the blood, though.

Anything, to feel vaguely clean again.

Drawing a deep breath, he submerged himself beneath the steaming, scented water, felt his skin prickling with the intense heat of the liquid.

He braced his hands against the smooth sides of the bath, letting the heat envelope him, sounds around him muffled by the fluid burbling softly in his ears, his eyes pressed shut.

Erupting from the water, gasping as the cold air around the ice-white bathroom hit his soaking body, he swallowed great gulps of air, slumping back against the end of the bath.

Panting, he closed his eyes, instinctively reaching for the sponge again.

He knew what Voldemort had done to him could not be classed as rape, since he had forced himself to go along with it, but the physical violation of his borrowed form had felt personal and it had sickened him.

A shudder past through Ethan, as he recalled the horrible sensations of the spidery hands moving on the illusion of Cassandra's body, his stomach tightening.

Leaning over the edge of the bath, he retched wetly, the contents of his half-empty stomach splattering on the white tiles of the floor. Half-hanging over the edge of the bath, shivering from the cold, the wizard shuddered as a sob escaped him.

The raw, animalistic sobs increased in ferocity, all the pain, despair for his lover and the sheer sense of uselessness he felt, which had been bottled up for so long erupting from the wizard.

How could she have survived that?

Had she felt as disgusted with herself as he did now?

Did she feel as cheap and useless when Voldemort had degraded her?

Burying his face in his arms, folded on the smooth edge of the bath, Ethan broke down entirely.

If he felt so horrific and so disgusted with himself after one night of shame, he knew that he had felt nothing compared to his lover. He knew what he felt must have been a drop in her ocean...

And yet...

How could one such small and insignificant a person be so strong?

"The bastard knew what he was doing when he picked her out," the wizard said softly, to no one in particular. "He knew she would be able to cope with whatever was thrown at her."

Stumbling out of the bath, he groped for a towel, drying himself and dressing again rapidly, in his pyjama bottoms and T-shirt that served as sleeping garb. Another shiver ran through him.

He was fully-clothed and yet...yet...he felt naked.

Stripping off, he pulled on his faithful and thicker shirt and trousers. Making his way through to the Motel room he had acquired, he pulled back the covers on the bed and crawled between them, pulling the blankets up to his chin

Closing his heavy eyes, he felt all the aches and strains pouring through his rigid body into the mattress beneath him. He was so tired, he knew that he would sleep like a log tonight.

His eyes snapped open as footsteps sounded in the hallway. Ethan froze, his heart thundering against his ribs. The footfalls past and there was silence again.

Yes, he would sleep like a log tonight.

That is, he felt the sting of tears, if he dared to close his eyes.