ꜱᴇʀᴘᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴛᴏᴍɪᴏɴᴇ

Whispers from the Past, ch. 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

She lay back on the bed and Voldemort draped himself on top of her. He wedged himself between her legs and kissed her hard, weaving their fingers together. He kissed her skin slowly and deliberately as though they had all the time in the world.

Harmony recalled that he had been very different the first time they were together at Shell cottage. He was hurried and frantic to become one with her. Maybe now he wanted to memorize every part of her as though afraid he would lose traces of her existence. Harmony tried to relax and let him savor her, but she couldn't suppress her greediness. She knew they didn't have all the time in the world. They only had hours or less, and after that they may never see each other again. What if the next time she fell asleep, waiting for his touch, he never came because he was dead? Harmony swallowed back a cry of sorrow.

Voldemort was running his lips over her collarbone when Harmony wrapped her legs around his hips. His mouth paused over her neck when she did this, and she knew she had succeeded in sending the message that she wanted to go further. With satisfaction, he brought a hand back to grasp her thigh, but he continued to only kiss her. Harmony suppressed a sigh of impatience.

"What's the rush?" he asked, his lips brushing like butterflies over her throat.

"You're going to be dead within days or sooner. We're never going to see each other again."

At the word "dead" Voldemort froze and then he lifted his lips from her throat to hitch up on his elbows, looking down at her.

"Right," he mumbled. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" Harmony exclaimed in disbelief. "How can you forget that you're going to be executed?"

He smiled down at her with hooded eyes. "Perhaps I only wanted to think about being with my heir. Can you blame me?"

She bit her lip and shrugged.

"No," he whispered, bringing a hand up to brush her bangs away from her eyes. He trailed his thumb down her jaw line and over her lips which were swollen from kissing. His mouth curved upward in a smile as he stared down at her. His blue eyes shone bright even though the only source of light came from the moon outside the window. Long, black lashes adorned his eyes and Harmony brushed away a stray lash on his cheek. He brought his lips to her hand and kissed her palm.

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "You're sad."

Harmony sighed deeply and her chest pressed against his. "What am I going to do after you die? I can't keep running forever. The Ministry is bound to catch me eventually. I'm afraid I'll be alone to handle everything that's about to come."

Voldemort relaxed against her and spoke into her ear. "You don't have to be afraid."

Harmony closed her eyes, focusing on the feel of his heart beating against her chest. She wished she could believe him. It would be so easy to pretend.

"If there was some way for me to see you again before you die, I'd do it," Harmony murmured.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said with a satisfied lilt in his voice.

"But you wouldn't recognize me."

He grunted.

"I wonder if it'll hurt," she whispered as though reluctant to speak the words allowed.

"Hm?"

"When you die, will I feel anything?"

He didn't reply, only stared down at her with an unreadable expression. His fingers on one hand methodically twirled around a lock of her hair. Unwind, twirl, unwind, and again. Then he uttered the words Harmony least wanted to hear.