The Distraction

I stayed slumped over the side of the tub for several moments, tears running down my face. It had finally hit me, I was in for it. Really, I should have had this breakdown the night before at my initiation, but it just hadn't seemed real then. The process was so violent and grotesque that my mind had refused to except it. But now, it had no choice.

The realization hit me that I could be in this position for years, decades, maybe even forever if Harry was defeated by Voldemort.

I pushed all thought from me as I slid out of the tub and pulled off my wet clothing. I spotted my wand laying on the floor and decided to cast a Calming charm on myself. There was no fucking way I was going to get through this in my state.

I picked up the robes that Voldemort had thrown to me, ah, who am I kidding, at me, and slipped them on. I pulled my shoulders back, put my chin up and walked out into the bedroom.

Voldemort was facing the door, waiting for me. I went to stand in front of him and knelt. He walked in slow circles around me while I kept my eyes averted. You never meet the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Take your robe off," he ordered quietly.

A voice in the back of my head was screaming, and if it hadn't been for the Calming charm I cast, the scream would have made it's way to my mouth. I took a deep breath and pulled the robe over my head and let it drop the to the floor beside me.

Suddenly, there was a long-fingered hand in my hair, wrenching my head back. I gasped in surprise, afraid I had been found out.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked coldly, holding a small vial full of clear liquid in front of my face.

My worst fears were bubbling to the surface. It could have been a few potions, but I'd bet my life it was a Truth potion. They had interrogated me last night with Veritaserum, to make sure that I wasn't a spy, but that potion had been provided by Severus, and was, of course, a fake.

I swallowed, my eyes locked on the tiny bottle that could be my undoing. "Veritaserum?" I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice."Good girl," he crooned. "Open your mouth."

I closed my eyes and did as I was told. He tipped the vial to my lips and I felt a few drops trickle down my throat. Voldemort released his grip on my hair and I slumped forward. Seconds later, a tingling warmth spread through me and my eyelids began to droop, but I was still thinking clearly. This was the same potion that was used last night, the one Severus had concocted. I made a mental note to buy that man an outlandishly extravagant gift at the first opportunity.

"What is your name?" Voldemort asked, his icy voice bringing me back to the present.

"Tamerlane Jacek," I answered in a deadened tone.

"Do you serve the Dark Lord faithfully?"

"I would serve the Dark Lord with my very life," I lied.

"Good. Do you know why I have come here tonight?" he asked, leaning forward.

"I have... I have heard rumors...."

"Such as?" he prodded.

"The Dark Lord seeks a faithful servant to bear him an heir."

"And where did you hear this?" he asked dangerously.

"I overheard two men speaking of it in Knockturn Alley."

"Indeed. Do you know who these two men are. Are they Death Eaters?" he snapped. I had pissed him off. Fortunately, his anger was not directed towards me, but at two men who were the products of my imagination.

"I do not know. I have not seen them since then."

"Very well," he said, resigned. "Back to business. Those men were right, Tamerlane. I do indeed seek a woman with whom to produce an heir. I have chosen you. Do you have any objections? Not that it would matter, of course," he stated in a matter of fact tone.

"It would be the greatest honor to bear the Dark Lord's heir!" I said, trying to sound as gratified and delighted as I possibly could.

"Very well. Let's begin."

I let out a small gasp of surprise as I was swept off my feet. My arms went automatically around his neck as Lord Voldemort carried me to the bed. Before I knew what was happening, I leaned forward and put my lips to his neck, thrilled by the feeling of his cold, hard skin under my warmth.

"My, you're more eager than I would have expected," said his voice very close to my ear. His breath was as cool as his skin, and I shivered at the sensation.

"Sorry, my Lord," I murmured, pulling away from him.

He merely laughed, and set me down on the bed. He stood beside me, surveying the room. "It is far too bright in here for my tastes," he commented and with a wave of his wand, everything from the carpet to the bed spread turned a shade of gray. He flicked his wand again, this time at the fireplace, and the dancing flames turned blue.

"That's much better, don't you think?" he asked, stowing his wand inside his cloak.

"Yes, my Lord," I said, looking around. It was actually quite soothing.

"Lay down," he ordered. I did so, feeling more naked than I thought possible.

Voldemort settle himself beside me and proceeded to run a spidery hand over my skin. He started at my neck, and slipped his hand slowly towards my breasts. Inexplicably, I found myself pressing closer to his touch, frustrated by the lightness of his hand.

He chuckled softly and moved his hand further down. I felt my abdomen contract as he rested his hand on my belly. He moved his hand back and forth, caressing my hips. I moaned softly, again pressing myself up to him.

"Shhh... be still," he said softly. He reached down and deliciously, teasingly stroked the soft skin of my inner thighs. I bit my lip, struggling to keep still, afraid he would remove his hand.

I gasped as one of his long, cold fingers slipped inside me. He smiled at my reaction, and moved in as far as he could before encountering my barrier.

"You're a virgin?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.

I looked away and nodded, blushing from head to toe.

"That's a very pleasant surprise," Voldemort said softly, and began to move his finger slowing in a "come here" motion, pressing sweetly against a very sensitive area I never knew I had.

I cried out, my breathing heavy, writhing in a combination of bliss and agony. What he was doing to me felt so good, so right, but I could no longer push from my mind what was happening. The Calming charm was wearing off, as were the effects from Severus's fake Veritaserum.

I had to act quickly before all my nerve was gone. I sat up and grabbed the front of Voldemort's robes and pulled him into a kiss.

"Be patient, love," he said, pushing me back.

"Patience can come later," I said bravely. "I've been dreaming of this for months. Please, my Lord, this is torture." I gazed into his scarlet eyes, trying to put as much pleading into my expression as I could muster.

He smiled shrewdly. "Very well. Even I realize that it is very rude to keep a lady waiting," he said, standing up beside the bed again. I laid back down on the soft gray blankets and watched as he unhooked the silver clasps on the front of his cloak. He slid his robes off to reveal he was wearing nothing underneath. I wasn't shocked by this. After all, it's not like Voldemort was a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy.

His body was stark white and thin, reflecting the blue light of the flames from across the room. He stood naked in front of me, watching my face, as if waiting for a reaction.

My eyes slid down to the body part I was most curious about. It was as pale as the rest of his form, lacking a nest of hair, and intimidatingly engorged. I blushed ever hotter and moved my gazed back up to meet his. "My Lord?"

He sat back down on the bed beside me, never taking his serpentine eyes off of my blue ones. He waved his hand and the curtains around the bed flowed shut, leaving us in almost total darkness. I felt his slight weight shift, then cold hands were on my knees, pulling them apart.

I gasped as he settled on top of me, tensed as his hardness rested on my stomach. I shut my eyes as tightly as I could, even though I really couldn't see anything, and fought desperately to hold on to the last little bit of magic induced calm that lingered.

A low, raspy laugh sounded in my ear and I almost screamed. "You were so brave before, my dear," he breathed tauntingly. "Where has all your courage gone?"

Sharp teeth sank into my neck and at last, I vocalized my fear. I screamed wildly and tried to push him away from me. I kicked and thrashed and bit, but his mouth was latched firmly onto my skin, draining away my blood and strength. Finally, I wrenched myself away from his grip and head-butted him as sharply as I could.

He was silent for a moment, and I curled up in fear, waiting for the Avada Kadavra to hit me, but all I received was a hard slap across the face.

"Normally, I rather enjoy a good fight, but I'm afraid now is neither the time nor place," he growled.

He grabbed my wrists and roughly thrust my arms above my head while wedging himself once again between my thighs. I felt the tip of his manhood brush against my opening and threw myself backwards as far as I could, only to be pulled underneath him once more.

"NO," I cried desperately. "LET GO OF ME! I CAN'T!"

"You can, and you will," he spat. His free hand clasped around my throat, choking off my pleas for release.

Voldemort thrust in to me as I sobbed and fought for breath. I tried to ignore the searing pain in my abdomen; I knew I was going to be sore for days afterward.

He growled and quickened his pace, the force of his movements bruising my flesh. As his excitement grew, his grip on my throat became tighter, and finally, mercifully, I passed out.