Heir Of Voldemort

A couple of weeks after chapter 11

Notes: I should really be reading The Massacre of Paris right about now, for a two hour seminar tomorrow. However, unfortunately for me and my tutor, this story here is imbedded in my brain and therefore, I must finish it before I even dare to consider the chance of having a student life of any kind.

So, here we are - ninth to last chapter. This is where loose ends will start to be tied up, I hope, and I´ll try and get the rest done as soon as possible! I want to be able to sleep through the night without being woken by ideas! And yes, as with every chapter before this, its getting darker as we go. You have been warned :)

And now, for my crappy disclaimer - is not mine. I poor. Deal with it.

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The chamber was dark and eerily quiet, the only sounds the crackling of the flaming torches along the black walls and the whispering rustle of the robes of the assembled Death Eaters.

Snape´s eyes flitted around warily.

The dimly-lit anteroom was absolutely packed with Death Eaters, the stench of their barely-masked fear, unease and sweat permeating the Potions Master´s nostrils, even through his mask.

Rarely did all the Death Eaters gather, unless news of a serious target had come in.

They were so tightly packed together, small knots of the corrupted families standing in huddles, that it seemed impossible for any of them to move. All eyes were on the black and silver drapes that hung along the rear wall.

It felt like an eternity before the drapes parted, allowing the Dark Lord and a small, cloaked and hooded female figure to exit, approaching the dais.

Sinking down into his throne and sprawling out with effortless ease, like a great cat surveying his prey, Voldemort´s lips arched in a smirk, his eyes hooded, as the girl knelt down beside the throne, her head down, face hidden.

From what could be seen, she was small and slim. Bare feet protruded out from beneath her black robes, small, white hands folded demurely in her lap. Not many would notice that they were shaking.

Behind his mask, Snape´s brows beetled. What was this? Voldemort had picked another helpless girl to serve as his play thing? How had it come to pass that he heard nothing of this, when he had come for his tasks from his Master?

Who was she?

A child of one of the Death Eaters?

Unlikely...

Then who?

He hadn´t returned to Hogwarts since he had left, knowing that once he entered, he would probably be sealed in with the remaining pupils and teachers and he honestly didn´t think he could cope with sharing the Great Hall´s air with Remus Lupin.

Perhaps one of the pupils...

No: The school had been put off-limits for some reason, almost two months earlier.

A muggle?

Doubtful: Voldemort wouldn´t want to soil himself.

So who...?

Feet shifted uncomfortably on the gleaming floor, as the Death Eaters waited for their Master to speak. He, however, appeared distracted, his hand had snaked beneath the kneeling girl´s hood, his fingers probably tangled through her hair.

If there was one thing that Voldemort loved for no known reason, it was the long, rich, thick hair that witches so often seemed to possess.

When he finally deigned to turn his attention to them, a communal breath of relief combined with fear rippled around the crowded chamber, the shuffling of shoed feet silencing immediately. Scarlet eyes gleamed around at them and he smiled again.

"My Death Eaters," he said, studying each of them with his unwavering stare. "I believe it is time that we reminded this feeble world of ours who has the power and the will to use it."

Some enthusiastic cheers rose from the Death Eaters in front of him. Near the back of the assembly, Snape´s shudder went unseen, but he still strained to hear every low-voiced hiss of his Master´s voice.

"The guard of several of the half-blood families has been lowered, due to a lack in activity in the half-blood world of late," His smirk made him look even more sinister than usual. "Pity they did not seem to mind when the muggles were the ones to die."

The Potions Master grit his teeth.

So it was back to baiting and killing mud-blood and half-bloods now? He knew that he had a limit on the amount of time that he had to get to the Ministry, to warn them to warn the ones who may be under threat.

Pressing forward a little, his stomach felt like it was twisting into knots as he saw Voldemort handing out thin slips of parchment to groups of Death Eaters, bestowing a cruel smile and nod on each of them before they disapparated.

So he couldn´t just flee to the Ministry immediately...

His nails bit into the palms of his clenched hands and he was certain that blood was being drawn, but he ignored it, watching as group after group vanished, until there were only six figures left.

"Ah, Lucius," Voldemort lazily handed the last sliver of half-curled parchment to the masked man and rolled his head back on his neck. "Take the boys and we shall join you there temporarily."

Bowing slightly, Malfoy and his two companions disapparated, leaving Voldemort, Snape and the girl in the silence of the dungeon, the expanse of stone floor spread out between them.

"Come forward, Severus..."

The girl´s hooded head turned sharply toward him and Snape felt a sharp lance of horror. Surely not...

Voldemort grinned down at him, the calculating smile of a Devil. "I believe you know my young friend, do you not?" His long-fingered hand jerked back the hood, revealing the bone-white face of Ginny Weasley.

Hopeless, sorrowful brown eyes stared up at the Professor, run dry of tears. She looked utterly shattered and Snape felt his heart breaking, wondering if it would have been a mercy to let her take the poison the year before.

Once again, she was gaunt, a shell of her former self, so much so that Snape wanted to cradle her and allow her to weep as he had done so many times in the past year.

The Professor´s own dark eyes flicked from her to Voldemort, who raised his brows, still smirking.

He knew...dear Merlin! He knew!

Biting on his tongue to smother a moan of despair, Snape clenched his hands into tighter fists by his side. "I recall," he said, his voice so tight he was sure that his vocal cords would snap. "She was your plaything last year."

"And an awfully charming creature, wouldn´t you say?" Thrusting his hand through the girl´s mass of red hair, he jerked her head back savagely, making Ginny cry out in pain. Snape flinched at the sound. "I´ve had her near a month and a half now and still, she surprises me."

"You are hurting her, Master."

Voldemort cast a quizzical look in the masked Wizard´s direction. "I know that I am, Severus," he said quietly. "It is all part of this lesson, which you will come to understand in time."

Lesson...?

"Please!" Bent at an agonising angle, Ginny was sobbing desperately, dry, harsh sobs, tufts of her hair audibly ripping free from her scalp. "Please! Stop!" In response, Voldemort merely jerked her back harder, his gleaming eyes locked on Snape´s. The girl´s shrill scream of pain echoed off the walls.

"Master!" Snape started to move forwards, only for Voldemort´s wand to be levelled at his chest.

"You intended to betray me to your precious Ministry, did you not, Severus?" the Dark Lord´s voice was calm, steady, but that only served to signal that he was at his most dangerous. With a flick of the wand, Snape´s mask spun off, landing on the floor halfway across the room. "I do not...appreciate betrayal."

"Master, I would not..."

"You lie," He barely had time to brace himself for the pain he knew would come, before Voldemort whispered. "Crucio."

Crashing to the stone floor, Snape´s body jerked and spasmed agoningly. He could feel his bones twisting and undulating beneath his skin, his flesh rising and rippling to accommodate the movement, nerves screaming out in a way that he couldn´t.

His throat seemed to have closed up completely, preventing him from screaming, breathing, begging, anything.

It felt like his skull was clamping in on his brain, the pain tremendous, his eyes burning, tears streaming down his face, milked from his throbbing sockets. White and scarlet flashed behind his vision, spotted with black.

A hoarse, gagging cry erupted from his throat and then...

Nothing.

Panting and shuddering, Snape managed to slump onto his side, facing his Master, his face etched with pain and tears. A quiet, frightened whimper from Ginny made his heart wrench in a way that even the Cruciatus curse couldn´t manage.

"Now, Severus, I have a little task for you..."

Struggling onto his throbbing knees, Snape raised a shaking hand to smear away the trickle of blood that was oozing from the corner of his mouth, his eyes swimming with pain. Swaying unsteadily, he nodded.

"We are going on a little mission, the three of us..." Voldemort´s eyes remained solely on Snape, his hand resting on Ginny´s head, the girl flinching each time he stroked his fingers through her dense curls. "We have some...associates who must be taken care of...by you, Severus."

Shaking his head, Snape tried to form words. "I-I don´t kill..." he stammered, his jaw still twitching from the Cruciatus curse.

Voldemort sighed, tutting. "Well, that really is an awful pity, you see, because I have no qualms about it," He turned his wand towards Ginny, who jerked back with a frightened gasp. "Would you appreciate it if I showed my prowess?"

"Don´t."

"What was that, Severus?"

"Don´t harm her."

Scarlet eyes studied him with something akin to amusement. "Perhaps I should just place the Cruciatus on her now, to teach you a lesson about betrayal."

Somehow, the Potions Master - despite every bone in his body feeling like it was burning - threw himself forward, between the girl and the wand of Voldemort. "Over my dead body," he croaked, shielding Ginny with his own body.

The tip of the Dark Lord´s wand tapped the centre of his breastbone once, red eyes gazing at him. "That could be arranged, Severus," he murmured silkily. "But, as I have more entertaining plans for this evening, I would appreciate you being present to do your part." He glanced over Snape´s shoulder at the shivering Ginny. "Behave and I may let the little vixen live."

"Why me?" Panting, Snape had to ask. "If I´m a traitor...why let me live...?"

The Dark Lord smiled slightly, showing his upper teeth. "Be assured that it is just a temporary arrangement, my dear Severus. I do so enjoy your gift with a blade...and your potions are seldom flawed," One cold, thin hand snapped out and locked around Snape´s aching throat in a vice-like grip. "I still have uses for you, you see, and you best be sure that I have your full cooperation or I may let some of our compatriots share in the pleasures that Miss Weasley gives me."

Snape closed his eyes. So that was it. The only reason that the poor, innocent child had been brought back into the game was to be a pawn for Voldemort to use to trap him into an inescapable Checkmate.

A hissing chuckle from before him made him open his eyes again. "So you have worked out my little ploy, eh, Severus?" The bony hand slid from his throat. "And expect you will be frightfully noble about it all."

"No...you don´t have to..." Ginny whispered hoarsely from behind him. He could hear the shaking in her voice, one of her small hands touching his throbbing back. "I-I would be all right."

The Professor ignored her. "What do you wish me to do?"

The flat, smooth face of Voldemort bent closer, inches from his, the crimson eyes flaming. "Exactly what I order," he growled.

Snape bowed his head in acquiescence.

For the life of girl who wept quietly behind him, he knew he would do anything, order or not.

***

Night had fallen on the melancholy school.

Four-poster-beds had been pulled down from the ceiling of the Great Hall and placed on either side of the hall, the boys to the right, the girls to the left. Not a sound rose from them, every pupil asleep.

Every pupil, except one.

Stirring, Harry Potter shifted uncomfortably beneath his blankets and sheets, tossing and turning. Part of him was afraid to sleep, lest dreams come, but another part of him simply wanted to collapse into the oblivion of sleep.

Flopping onto his back, he stared up at the top of his four-poster.

That was when he was hit by a rather surprising revelation.

One hand rose to his forehead and he couldn´t help frowning. It didn´t hurt. In the past few months, his head had constantly been throbbing, night and day, nothing any of the teachers provided helping, but now, for no reason, it didn´t hurt!

There had only been a few occasions since You-Know-Who had returned when his scar hadn´t hurt and most of those were when he was unconscious, or was in the protection of someone he knew and trusted.

Sitting up, Harry edged towards the crack of light between his curtains, wondering if he should inform a teacher of this.

Many of them took the case of his scar very seriously.

Peering out through a chink in the deep red drapes, he could see a solitary figure sitting in the Head Teacher´s chair, at the far end of the hall, in front of the fireplace, where a merry fire crackled.

After a moment´s deliberation, Harry eased out from between the drapes, pulling his dressing gown on as he went. He shivered as his feet touched the bare stone of the floor, hastily searching out his maroon slippers with the tips of his toes.

As quietly as he could, he made his way towards the fireplace, tying his gold and scarlet dressing gown cord with shivering hands. For some reason, despite the fire, the Great Hall felt strangely cold.

"Excuse me?" Nearing the back of the huge chair, he cleared his throat. "Professor?"

The voice that spoke certainly wasn´t who expected. "Ah, Harry..."

The boy´s brilliant green eyes shot wide open and - on legs that were quivering like jelly - he came around the chair, staring down at the inhabitant as he did so, his mouth falling open in shock.

"You know," the amused voice continued. "I had never noticed before, but from this angle, you remarkably resemble a codfish."

"P-Professor Dumbledore?"

"So you have not forgotten me, eh, Harry?" The shimmering, pearly-white figure smiled at the boy. "I must say that is rather reassuring." He shifted, his beard rustling softly as he did so.

Harry managed to blink several times. "H-how are you here?"

"Alas, that I cannot answer, Harry," The smile grew slightly melancholy. "Perhaps it is my love of the school that held me here...or perhaps I am forever condemned to search the castle for all the odd socks that went missing over the centuries."

Harry blinked at him. Did Dumbledore´s ghost just make a joke about socks?

Looking at the fire, Dumbledore studied the flames for a long time. "I have seen how bad things are, Harry..." he said quietly. "I wish I had had the foresight to prevent this so many years ago."

"Um...sir?" Harry tried to find the right words to say that wouldn´t offend the head master´s ghost. "Do you...that is, is there some way that you know of that we could... er... defeat You-Know...Voldemort?"

Pearly-blue eyes that reminded him briefly of Ollivander stared up at Harry. "There is nothing that I have that would be of assistance, Mr Potter," he said quietly, his eyes studying Harry intently.

"Is...is there something that...I have?"

He thought he saw the flicker of a smile.

"Perhaps..."

"Are you going to tell me?"

The smile widened a little. "Perhaps," The twinkle that Harry always remembered was back in his ghostly Mentor´s eye. "But then, Harry, that which we really need and look so hard to find, often transpires to be right in front of us all the time."

"Is..."

A shrill voice from further down the Hall interrupted Harry´s question and he turned to see Professor McGonagall striding towards him in her notorious tartan dressing gown and nightcap. "Harry Potter! What do you think you are doing, out of bed at this time of night?" She came around the chair, still talking rapidly. "I am..."

What she was about to say never emerged, as she saw what Harry had seen.

Her mouth opened and shut several times, one thin finger rising and pointing at the figure in the chair.

"Albus..." her voice was a faint squeak. "It´s you!"

He glanced down at himself, then back at her, his eyes twinkling. "Alas, I am so transparent," he remarked with a straight face. McGonagall uttered another strange, squeak-like sound and promptly keeled over in a dead faint.

"Is...is she all right?"

Dumbledore nodded, chuckling, as he got to his feet. "She survived your father and Sirius and the Weasley twins," he answered conspiratorially. "I think she can survive fainting this once...although perhaps you ought to find Madam Pomfrey..."

"Yes, Professor," The boy started past the ghost.

"Oh, and Harry," He looked back. "Best keep this between us for now, eh?"

Again, Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor."

When he looked back again, a few seconds later, Dumbledore was gone.

***

"Wh-what are we doing here?"

Lord Voldemort ignored Ginny´s quavering voice, as he swept up the front path of The Burrow, dragging the girl forcefully by her right arm, Snape reluctantly following a few paces behind them.

The door was already hanging open and Ginny whimpered in fear and panic as she was dragged past several Death Eaters, into the living room.

The moment that they entered the room, she shuddered. It was much darker than she remembered, an eerie green fire burning in the heart, frightening shadows dancing on the walls, stretching forms of the Death Eaters casting ominous silhouettes.

Everything in the room seemed much sharper, much more dangerous and unfamiliar than she remembered home being. All the softness and warmth had faded to black and icy greens and silver.

Looking around the dark, chilling room, the girl was both relieved and ashamed to be concealing herself under the hood of her cloak, when she saw just why she had been brought back to her family home.

Her parents were there, and Bill and Charlie.

Molly, white-faced, was clad in travel robes and seated on the couch, fear-filled eyes roaming the masked, hooded faces. Her husband, also in travel robes, was standing just in front of her protectively.

Bill and Charlie were standing defiantly near their parents, but Ginny could see that they were both frightened as well. Bill´s cheek was twitching, his hands shaking by his sides. Charlie´s face was whiter than their mother´s and he looked like he was only keeping his mouth shut to stop himself being sick.

"Arthur Weasley," Voldemort murmured, releasing Ginny´s wrist. She considered trying to run, but found herself blocked on all sides by Death Eaters, none of whom she believed to be Snape. "Finally, we meet."

"Leave my family out of this and I´ll come with you peacefully," her father´s voice shook, but Ginny felt pride swelling in her heart. He wouldn´t be a coward like the Death Eaters were.

Voldemort chuckled, a whispering, hissing sound. "You would have no choice, peaceful or otherwise, Weasley. You are unarmed. We are all armed. I do not believe you would commit noble suicide."

"What do you want with us, then?"

"We come to offer you a place among us."

Arthur spat savagely at Voldemort. "Never!"

The Dark Lord didn´t seem at all surprise, raising his slim fingers to wipe the glob of mucus from his cheek, glancing at it with casual interest, before turning his attention back to Arthur, still rubbing the tips of his fingers together.

"You are foolish, Weasley."

The red-haired wizard stiffened his back. "I stand by what I believe is right."

"Bravery and folly...so often they intertwine..." Sighing, Voldemort motioned for Ginny to be brought forward and jerked the hood back from her face. "Your daughter certainly had her share of bravery."

"G-Ginny?" Bill voiced the croak, shaking his head.

Tears filled her eyes. "I´m sorry..." she whispered. "They made me..."

"Oh, Ginny..." Molly started to rise from the sofa, a shaking hand held out to her only daughter, but one of the Death Eaters stepped forward, a hand on her shoulder forcing her to sit back down. "Ginny..."

A wand was placed into the girl´s hand, held tightly by a Death Eater´s, in the direction of her family.

Even if she tried, she wouldn´t have been able to pull away.

"Now, little girl," Voldemort´s voice was a hiss beside her ear. "Choose one."

"Wh-what?"

His lips skimmed the shell of her ear, making her shudder and shy away from him, but his hand locked around her arm in a vice-like grip, bruising her skin. "Who do you love best? Who do you love least? Who will you touch with the killing curse?"

"I-I can´t!"

"Perhaps I shall just kill them all then?"

"D-d-don´t make me...please..."

A snake´s kiss was placed on her neck. "You should know, pretty one, that begging serves no purpose to me."

"Ginny," Bill stepped forwards, his expression resolved. "You...pick me if you have to pick anyone..."

"No, Bill," His father drew him back, determination on his face, a face that looked so much older and more worn than she could remember her father being. "Take care of your mother for me."

"Arthur..." Molly Weasley whispered, shaking her head.

Turning, he bent and gently kissed her and pressed his forehead against hers. "Molly, it has to be one of us," he said softly. "Don´t you see that? You have to look after the boys and Ginny."

"Please, Arthur...not like this..." Her hands came up and clasped his face, pulling his lips down on hers fiercely. She was sobbing when they broke apart, trying to hold him as he pulled back, closing his eyes for a moment.

Lifting her hand in his, he pressed his tear-soaked cheek against the back of her shivering hand. "I have to, Molly," his voice was low, barely a whisper. "I love you too much to let them kill you. You and our babies."

"Dad..."

"No, Bill. You have your life ahead of you," Drawing away from Molly, he clasped Bill´s shoulder. "You..." He couldn´t say more, hugging his eldest son briefly, then turning towards his daughter.

"Daddy..."

His eyes met Ginny´s, tears spilling uncontrollably from her lids and gathering in the hollows beneath her eyes, before splashing down her face, and he smiled at her. "I love you, Virginia Weasley."

"No, daddy...no..."

Voldemort chuckled. "This is why I love dealing with families so. They provide so much entertainment." His hand steadied Ginny´s, holding the wand. "Perhaps a little of the cruciatus, first, hmm?"

"No..." Whimpering, Ginny shook her head. "No...please..." A cry of pain escaped her when Voldemort´s grip tightened on her thin wrist. "No..."

"Would you prefer to be the cause of all their deaths, little girl?" his voice was a hiss in her ears.

Shaking her head, unable to speak, shuddering sobs rocking her body, she pointed the shaking wand at her father, tears burning so fiercely in her eyes that she could barely see. Her father gave her one of his calm, quiet, sad smiles and nodded his head.

"C-c-c-crucio," she sobbed, the wand jerking in her hand.

"ARTHUR!" Molly screamed, lunging forward, as her husband crashed to the floor, his own hoarse cries ripping through the silence of the house, his body twisting and writhing on the floor.

Again, a Death Eater pushed her back on the couch, but she pushed forward again.

This time, the masked figure hurled her back forcefully and followed the push with a savage back-hand that sent Ginny´s mother reeling, Bill catching her, his eyes burning with hatred.

Both of them turned their eyes to Arthur, who was still arching and crying out on the ground. His eyes bulged, drool and blood bubbling from his torn lips, which he had gnashed on with his teeth.

Bloody gouges were opening in his face and neck, torn into his skin by his own blunt fingers, deep and deadly. His legs jerked and spasmed, bones audibly snapping with his impact against the floor.

His screams had trailed into bloody gurgles, his head thrashing violently from side-to-side so hard they could see the fractures forming as his skull seemed to change shape before their eyes.

Blood rippled out from bulging eye sockets, spattering the carpet. His teeth clattered together, shattering, broken pieces and shreds of tattered, torn off flesh matting the floor around him.

"St-stop it..." Ginny whispered, trying to break the wand off from the curse.

Death Eaters started laughing, drowning out Molly´s despairing sobs and Ginny´s desperate pleas.

"Oh, I forgot to inform you, little girl," Voldemort hissed in her ear. "This wand was specially designed for situations such as this." He bit her earlobe hard enough to draw blood, making her cry out again. "The only way you can stop it," His tongue flicked the bite on her lobe. "Is to kill him."

"Do it, Ginny!" Bill cried out desperately, trying to shield his mother´s eyes, as their father ripped his own face to shreds with his bare hands.

"I-I can´t..." She sobbed.

"You have to, Gin..." Charlie added, his voice trembling. "You have to..."

Shaking her head, tears still streaming down her white cheeks, she drew a shaking breath and pointed the wand. "A-A-Avada K-K-Kedavra..." Still, Arthur continued to thrash and writhe on the floor at her feet. "I-it didn´t work!"

"You obviously want your father to suffer more, don´t you, little girl?"

"N-no!" Pointing the wand down at her barely-recognisable father, she tried to stop her hands from shaking. Pressing her eyes shut, she cried out as loudly as she could, which was little more than a whisper. "A-Avada Kedavra!"

There was a sound like rushing wind and a flare of green light.

Silence followed.

Opening her eyes, Ginny forced herself to look down, her hands coming to her face, a wild cry of grief bubbling up from inside her, the wand dropping to the floor, as her father´s mangled, lifeless features stared blindly up at her.

"Bravo, little girl," Voldemort murmured. "You murdered your own father..."

Caught in Bill´s arms, Molly gave a released a terrible, haunting cry, sinking in her son´s arms. He buried his face in her mass of hair, holding her tightly, his shoulder shaking with sobs.

Standing where he had been since they entered, Charlie´s lips were pressed together in a thin line, silent tears coursing down his cheeks. Kneeling, he shakily closed what remained of his father´s eyes and bowed his head.

"I...I didn´t have a choice...I didn´t...I didn´t..." Whispering feeble reassurances to herself, as well as her family, Ginny stared down at her father´s body, shaking violently. "I-I didn´t want to...didn´t...didn´t..."

Her legs felt like they were turning to water, her head swimming. Everything seemed to be fading in and out to her, but Voldemort´s steel grip on her arm stopped her from sinking to the floor in a heap.

"Perhaps, my Death Eaters, we should depart," The Dark Lord smirked around at the family. "Although..." He nodded to the Death Eater who had slapped Molly down. "I think you would like to see who was the cause of your grief."

"Master?" the Death Eater´s voice sounded positively gleeful.

Voldemort smiled coolly. "Yes," He nodded to the figure, then spoke again to the cowering family. "He was watching over your home, for your return." Jerking Ginny upright, he lifted her chin with the tip of one long, icy fingertip. "I believe you will want to know this, my dear little girl, as he is the one who arranged your abduction from Hogwarts...he brought you back into my hands."

Forcing her face up, glistening tears still rippling down her cheeks, Ginny stared at the figure as he raised his hands to his head, lowering his heavy cowl and reaching for his mask.

Jerking it away, he grinned devilishly down at them.

Molly uttered a gasp and shrank back against Bill, who shook his head. "No..."