The Cabin | D.M 18+

S E V E N T Y - F O U R

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TW: There's quite a bit in here. Mentions of rape, betrayal, war and gore. Just be careful. Viewer discretion is advised.

- BELLE -

You don't have to stand so close to see the giving snarl on Voldemort's face. It was the sun that woke up on a dull morning. He had ruined it all.

This was a sunrise that no one enjoyed. It was colourless. Cold and surrounded by misery. Not even the prick of a needle could make my face as sour as his did.

And everyone could agree that small, thin cuts were the worst to suffer through.

It was the type of disappointment where you hear it had snowed, but looked outside to see nothing but mud.

"What an absolute pleasure to see you all again." Voldemort announces, his hand waving slowly and gracefully as to add to his dramatics. "Time and age is in your favour."

"Spare me the bother," Draco scoffed, Fulgur's ears twitched, causing Draco to rub the side of his neck to calm him, "You've made quite the impression. You wanted an audience– do your worst."

"Oh you do know me quite well, I'm pleased with your observations, young Draco, that I am one who rather enjoys the attention."

"Well congratulations." Draco shrugged. "You've bloody got it."

Voldemort, however, arches his nonexistent brow. Muse curled off the wrinkled edges of his eyes.

He took another step forward to test our stance, to which we refused to move. There would be nothing to stop us. We were too angry. Too brave. And nothing, especially not Voldemort would run us out without at least putting up a good fight.

Regardless of the disadvantage that we were currently in.

"Never better than having your woman under me as I taint her womb." Voldemort grits. He looks at my pregnant belly, "And I see my deed has been completed. Does that hurt you, Draco?"

I swallow the bile that threatens to exit. It comes back in flashes. And– I can't– I don't want to. My arms wrap around my stomach and the heartbeat I feel eases my anxiety.

Draco's. Not Voldemort's. Our baby. Our little bat.

Draco's fury by this point could make acid pour from the clouds. And with the strength he yields, it wouldn't surprise me if just that occurred. He was the law of attraction when it comes to surprise.

Like attracts like.

Nature abhors a vacuum.

The present is always perfect.

Luna, you and your magical brain never cease to disappoint me. I say a silent prayer in her honour.

Draco lifts his chin, "Knowing it's my child she bears and not yours, I say I'm quite satisfied."

The clouds would turn green and the grass would thin into sharp knives.

"I find that hard to believe." Voldemort responds.

"You may be an arsehole but you're not fucking stupid. You and I both know the child isn't yours." Pansy took a step forward, blockading the space between, creating a barrier around me. "Then again," She shrugs, "With your age and whole creepo bravado, I'm surprised you could get it up in the first place."