(𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑) 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

Chapter 9

Chapter 10: "Faith of the Heart"

(Crying Over) Spilt Potions

by Azhure

~~oo0oo~~

Chapter 9 - Faith of the Heart

Voldemort slithered towards the bed slowly as he absorbed the tableau before him. Harry struggled within his magical bonds and realised that he was unable to sense his own magic or even move his arms from his side. The pain rippling through his scar overrode the blinding panic rising within, but Harry could see Voldemort's grotesque face adorned with a wicked grin as he looked down at the new born child. He'd never felt such urgency and desire to kill the Dark Lord. The fact that he couldn't get the slightest grasp on his magic simply increased his panic.

"Well, well, well. Issssn't this the touching little family reunion?" Voldemort did stop momentarily to look down at Lucius' body. "Tsk. What a pity. First Luciusss, next Draco, then your ssson." He shook his head as he looked from Draco to Harry. "What a pity that none of you shall live to sssee the dawn. I do believe tomorrow's going to be a sssspectacular day."

Voldemort reached the bed with clear intentions of approaching the baby. There was, of course, no doubt that Voldemort had plans for the child which only augmented Harry's desperation. He knew he was bound and his magic was inaccessible to him, but there was some part of him, something in his heart that significantly needed to ensure the safety of his offspring, which drove him to continue searching for a solution. He refused to be overwhelmed by his temporary inabilities. Draco and the baby didn't deserve the events that would result if Harry gave in to the panic.

Looking over at Draco, he could see that the blonde's health was deteriorating more rapidly due to the block on his natural healing magic. With Draco's own magic unable to help him, the only option had been Harry's rudimentary healing charms. Unfortunately, those charms required frequent maintenance which meant that they were ceasing to work now that Voldemort had bound the lot of them. Harry felt a cold, clenching fist around his heart as he saw Draco's tired visage pale even further and caught the sudden scent of fresh blood, no doubt coming from the blonde's unchecked birth wounds.

Feeling a swiftly increasing need to reach his lover and child, Harry struggled in vain to get out of his magical bonds. The Dark Lord watched wordlessly, mirthful in the face of Harry's pain. "You know I've spent yearsss envisaging you in this very sssituation. You can't essscape me this time, Potter. I've waited too long for this moment." Voldemort laughed, and looked down at the baby once again.

The insidious laughter continued as Voldemort brought his withered and scaly hand down to touch the baby's head. Harry watched his daughter closely, brimming with a need to protect her from the morbidly twisted caress. With every passing moment, Harry was being faced with additional reasons to struggle, and each time he was reminded that he was essentially helpless. A niggling sense of failure and hopelessness tried to overcome Harry, his fears telling him that nothing would get him out of this but sheer dumb luck. He couldn't accept that, couldn't allow himself to think of the seemingly imminent outcome. Instead, he mentally forged ahead, redoubling his efforts to find some way to break the magical bonds that held him.

The scaly hand was resting against the child's cheek. A robust wail accompanied the touch, and the Dark Lord flinched momentarily. Harry assumed it was a grin crossing Voldemort's face, but he couldn't be sure. "You know it's fortunate that he took the Malfoy colouring." Voldemort noted absently, and grinned again as the child cried her defiant protest at being touched by the Dark Lord.