"I shouldn't drag you all the way into the castle."
"I don't mind," he says.
I smile and shrug out of his robes, immediately cursing the atmosphere for its oppressive chill. "But I do. Thank you for walking with me, and for the robes. If I don't see you before the first task, good luck."
"I am hoping to see you before then." He doesn't take his robes when I hold them out.
"You know where to find me."
"And maybe we could play together? Quidditch, I mean," he says.
"Maybe, but I'm not sure I could hold my own against you."
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"I, uh... I know who you are," I say, and it comes out awkwardly.
"Well, that isn't fair," he says, and I open my mouth to explain that I'm not some crazy stalker. "You know me already but all I know is your name."
"I-"
"Y/N Y/L/N," he says, testing each syllable on his tongue. "I want to know more about you, Y/N, Y/L/N."
***
Y/N Y/L/N wants to have a memorable seventh year. After she hears that Quidditch is being replaced with a tournament, she is adamant that she will be one of the 'champions'. However, from the very beginning, the tournament is not what it seems, and Y/N soon finds herself fighting for more than fame. She's fighting for her life.
From the tournament comes something else, something special with famed Quidditch star, Viktor Krum.
The real challenge isn't the tournament. It's the effects. It's the pain, the memories, the corruption, the damage it does. Everything that once came naturally becomes forced, and what was once a light in a life that could use as much brightness as it could get becomes too painful to bear.
And now... she's alone. Isolated. Drowning in regret.
But he will get her back. No matter what it takes.
*UPDATES ON FRIDAYS*
"Oh my love," Voldemort sighed. "Aren't you tired of this endless running? You don't look well. All this writhing in the dust like a hunted animal doesn't suit you."
Harry struggled against the binds keeping him in place, his breaths coming out in sharps pants as he twisted away from his touch. He's a monster, he reminded himself, forcing himself not to think about how gentle he could be with him. How much he missed his touch. You need to run from him, run far, far away. You are in the middle of a war!
"I'm tired of chasing," Voldemort continued, stepping closer to Harry's struggling form. "Of indulging this little game of yours. Let's stop pretending there's anywhere you could run where I would not find you." He paused in front of Harry and knelt down, a hand reaching out to caress his cheek possessively. "Let's stop pretending you want to be anywhere but my arms, hmm?"
"Go to hell!" Harry spits, jerking away from his touch. "I'm not yours!"
"And that, my love, is where you're wrong," Voldemort said with a crazed smirk. "Nothing, not even death, could keep me from you. You always have and always will belong to me!"
|.-.-.-.-.-.-.-|
Voldemort had finally won. He defeated the light and gained control over Magical Britain, and in the process, he had lost everything. As he remembers how he met, fell in love with, and ultimately lost Harry Potter, he realizes that in his greed, Voldemort had ruined everything that ever mattered to him. But when new information comes to light, it's a race against time to bring Harry Potter back from the dead and reconcile their relationship or risk losing the love of his life forever...
...Even if it means getting help from what's left of the Golden Trio.