Second Chances~ Harry Potter

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Two days later, Megan Waters had successfully done it; she has brought back the Dark Lord, the epitome of vulgarity. With a concoction of various, horrid ingredients and a spell sure to damn her, she had done it. She stood in the dark, cold warehouse and stared on, her eyes a swirling pool of lust and reverence. A cold, pale hand curled in on itself, stretching the tight muscles; death did a fair deal on the body. Her heart hammered in her chest as she watched him, longed for him.

Thin lips curled over yellowed teeth and Megan's heart fluttered. He was a God, in all his glorious power. "Megan Waters," He spoke her name with vile smirk. She looked upon him eagerly, hanging on his every breath hungrily. "Do you have any idea what you've done, you stupid, stupid girl?" He laughed cruelly.

"I saved you," She said, her eyes raking his pale body hungrily. "You're going to rise to power once more, my Lord," She whispered giddily.

"I am," Voldemort grinned, scanning the abandoned room.

Megan was more than happy to share the devious details of what she had been up to. She told the Dark Lord eagerly about her killings. Her heart fluttered when he gave her an approving smile, though he seemed distracted.

"Where is the Potter boy?" Voldemort asked, interrupting Megan; he hadn't been listening to begin with. Frankly, the girl irked him to no end. He may have been evil, but this girl was irate and sadistic, something he found both interesting and unnerving.

Megan looked taken aback for a moment before answering sheepishly, "Well, you see, my Lord, I don't know."

Voldemort scowled, his thin lip curling over his teeth angrily. "You shouldn't have lost him, Waters."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," Megan dipped her head reverently.

Voldemort threw her a disgusted look. The psychotic witch reminded him vaguely of Bellatrix.

"I have a Connection with him though," Megan said quietly, having a sudden realization. Voldemort gave her a perplexed look.

Since the Horocrux within the boy had been destroyed, Voldemort's Connection was gone. Somehow this girl had a Connection. He was suddenly interested.

"So," Voldemort says slowly. "The Potter boy has found himself a Catalyst."

"Yes," Megan nodded obediently. "But once I kill her, the boy is all yours," She added, dropping her gaze from his.

"Oh, no, my dear," Voldemort smirked. "If the girl is a Catalyst to Potter, then she's as much mine as she is his," Megan's stomach churned as he spoke. Her love for him was obviously pushing the border of obsession. "She could be," He pondered for a moment, then smiled devilishly. "A wonderful asset to us," He spoke with a grin.

"I suppose so," Megan said, frowning. There was a reason no other woman had been invited to the resurrection of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort looked at her for a moment and whispered, "Try it," He demanded quietly.

"What?" Megan questioned; her mind had wandered to the erotic deeds she wished to do at that very moment.

"The Connection, you fool!" Voldemort hissed through gritted teeth.

Megan's face flushed and she nodded, quickly flushing the homemade erotica she had been silently twisting from her mind. "All right," she said, steadying herself and closing her eyes.

Thousands of miles away, Harry lay in bed, the early morning sun streaming through the blinded window of the Malfoy Manor, burning his corneas. He shot up suddenly, grasping his forehead; it felt as if someone had poured molten metal over his scalp. He sat gasping in the foreign bed, burning. Across the room, Ellie awoke with a start in her own bed. She took one look at Harry and stumbled from her bed and into his. She wrapped her arms around his quaking waist.