ꜱᴇʀᴘᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴛᴏᴍɪᴏɴᴇ

Whispers from the Past, ch. 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The weather only worsened from there on. The heavens opened and poured buckets of icy rain onto the treetops where they fell heavily on their cloak hoods. Harmony was miserable, chilled to the bone. But when she looked up into Voldemort's face, he showed no signs of weakness. Either the frozen rain had numbed his burns, or he was just too stubborn and unwilling to let her see his discomfort.

An hour after they started the trek that day, Harmony finally decided that she completely and wholeheartedly had no idea where they were heading through the forest. But Voldemort walked, her hand clutched in his, and led them on. She wasn't sure if he knew exactly where they were heading, but his purposeful steps were more assuring than her absolute uncertainty. He didn't tell her more about this new headquarters and there were moments of silence while they walked side by side.

Again and over again, the images flashed in Harmony's mind of last night's dream. The little girl in particular appeared, and she was dumbstruck at the possibility that the same little girl was growing inside her at that very moment. Blue eyes, his eyes. What wouldhe think of the baby? Harmony had a difficult time imagining the Dark Lord Voldemort being fatherly to a child. While one moment he could be killing hundreds of Muggles and the next be picking up his little girl and hugging her into his arms.

He would be a proud father, that was certain. This child would be his heir, someone to pass on his legacy, making him immortal. Something he had always wanted.

One part of her mind was relieved that her baby would be needed, but the other half of her was worried. If Harmony's fears came true and he really was going to kill her after the child was born, he would undoubtedly teach he or she everything he knows from the strongest charms to the blackest of the Dark Arts. The child would become hungry for power, always on the run from the Ministry. The child would be restless, just like their father.

This was all the more reason for Harmony to stay alive after the child was born. Alive, she would be able to keep her child from becoming just another Wanted criminal on the Ministry's list. She needed to stay alive, even if that meant waiting for as long as she possible could to tell him.

Perhaps the dream was only an overactive recreation of what she once feared most in Lord Voldemort: his capability to kill anyone at will. Or perhaps it was the other way around; perhaps the dream was showing what Voldemort most feared. He had killed his mother and he had killed her, his heir. If he desired to rule the world, why kill everyone, leaving no one left to rule? Perhaps what he most feared was loneliness. Abandonment.

Harmony scrunched the rain water from her eyes and rubbed her temple with a drenched hand. A dull pain was starting to pulse through her head. She was thinking too much. So many questions. Some answers could only come with time.

While they walked on in silence, Harmony clutched his hand tighter and day dreamed of a perfect life with the man beside her. They could be living somewhere far away-on a beach maybe-just the three of them. Maybe...maybe more than just the three of them. Maybe they could have two children, or four. All thoughts of taking over the Wizarding world and killing Harry Potter would be completely gone from his mind. All he would worry about is his family. Like the Malfoy's. He would love them...if not that, then something close to it. They could live somewhere where no one could find them. They could live their lives in peace. That would be the perfect life for them.

But fantasies weren't going to get her anywhere. Harmony looked up again into his face. Beads of rain ran down his cheekbones and dripped off his black eyelashes. If she wanted the perfect life with him, she was going to have to fight for it and take every day one at a time.