Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor Harry Potter. They belong to their respective geniuses, Joss Whedon and J.K. Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a little bit.
CAUTION: THIS FIC WILL CONTAIN BUFFY/VOLDEMORT AS WELL AS SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH A MINOR. If this isn't your cup of tea, PLEASE TURN BACK NOW. You have been warned.
Pairing: Buffy/Voldemort (ew, yes I know) and eventually Buffy/Harry (yay!)
Rated to be safe for later chapters.
I realize that I have about 5 unfinished stories going, but my muse nagged me until I answered its little plot bunny. I've already started on new chapters for The Chosen Two, The Aftermath of Oceanic Flight 815, A Fresh Start, and The Many Loves of Buffy Summers: Covenant Style, but I just had to get this out. Hope you like it as much as y'all seem to like my other fics!
Also, I am completely unsatisfied with the title, so if anyone has any suggestions, lemme hear 'em!
Enough with the disclaimers, on with the chapter!
Fifteen-year-old Buffy Anne Malfoy had a wonderful life. She was smart, beautiful, and popular. She had two loving parents and a twin brother that loved her and would do anything to protect her. Her father held a high position at the Ministry of Magic, and they were fabulously wealthy. Although many wizarding families hated them for having been in league with Voldemort during his first rise to power, she was the most popular Slytherin girl at Hogwarts, and she and her brother practically owned the school. Of course, her family had had some problems with Harry Potter, but the hatred between her and the boy who lived was significantly less than that between him and her brother. Although they didn't go out of their way to be nice to each other, they weren't bitter enemies either. They boy couldn't help the fact that he had been the one to defeat the Dark Lord. Sure, her entire family, as well as the rest of his followers, blamed him for their leader's death, Buffy understood that he was six months old at the time and couldn't tell Voldemort from the midiwitch that had delivered him. She had never voiced her opinion to her parents, and Draco had never informed their father of her lack of hatred for the boy, wanting to protect her from him at all costs. All in all, her life had been pretty damn good. Until now.
The sun had long ago set, and Buffy and Draco were both laying on his bed, flipping through magazines and simply enjoying each other's company. Draco let out a particularly loud burp, making no attempt to cover it, and Buffy scrunched her nose at him in disgust before smacking him in the head with the magazine she was holding.
“Ew! You freak!” she yelled, her shout of disgust dissolving into hysterical giggles when he tackled her off of the bed and onto the floor, pinning her down with one hand and tickling her side with the other.
“You did WHAT?” Buffy hear her mom scream, and shot her brother a look before kicking him off and running out of the room and down the ornately carved wooden staircase, only to dodge a crystal ashtray aimed at her father's head when she reached the drawing room. “How dare you! What were you THINKING?”
“Mom? Daddy?” Buffy asked hesitantly, stepping into the beautifully decorated room after Draco. He had sidestepped her and moved in front of her so that he could protect her in case their mother decided to hurl any more objects across the room. “What's going on?” Obviously extremely upset, Narcissa dropped into the nearest chair, burying her face in her hands, an anguished sob forcing its way from her lips. “Mom?”
“Sweetheart,” Lucius greeted softly, gesturing for her to sit down. Glancing at Draco and seeing his raised eyebrow, she walked over to the couch at sat down, giving him a small smile as he sat down next to her. “Fifteen years ago, when the Dark Lord first rose to power... Your mother and I...”
“How dare you?” Narcissa yelled, jumping up and stalking across the room so that she was nose to nose with her husband. Buffy's eyes widened slightly, and Draco grabbed her hand. They had never seen their mother talk to their father like that. It must have been something big if he was allowing her to speak to him like that without putting her in her place. “How dare you say that I would do something like that. I would NEVER do that to her! You despicable-...”
“Mom!” Buffy yelled, effectively gaining the woman's attention. “What's going on?”
“Yes, Lucius,” their mother spat. “Tell our daughter what you did.” There were a few seconds of silence as their parents continued to stare at each other, the anger shining in their mothers and guilt in their father's.
“Father?” asked Draco, his grip on Buffy's hand was so tight that it felt like it was going to fall off. But she paid it no attention. Her eyes were wide and her breath was bated as she watched her parents.
“Fifteen years ago, I...” he started, but trailed off in an attempt to squelch the rush of emotion that had surfaced. “I... promised you to the Dark Lord.” Buffy's stomach dropped, and Draco squeezed her hand even tighter. She was starting to loose feeling in it, but once again, she ignored it.
“What do you mean 'promised?'” he asked through gritted teeth, pinning his father with the cool gray eyes he had inherited from him.
“As a companion,” her father answered softly, looking into the bright green eyes of his only daughter.
“You. Did. What?” Draco asked, not yelling, but in a tone of complete and utter disgust. A tone that would have made the hairs on Buffy's neck stand up, if she had still been paying attention, of course. The second the sentence had left her father's lips, her brain had shut down, unable to wrap around the fact that he had essentially given her to Voldemort as a sex slave.
“Now that he's back,” Lucius answered, sidestepping his wife and kneeling in front of her. Next to her, Draco was shaking with fury. He had let go of her hand, and his fists were clenched so tight that she could see small trickles of blood seeping from where he had dug his nails into his palms. She closed her eyes for a second and turned away, absolutely appalled at what she was hearing. “He wishes for me to keep my promise. Buffy, Princess. Look at me.” She let out a deep breath and looked her father straight in the eyes, the hurt and betrayal in them making him jerk back slightly. Though the Ministry and much of the wizarding world refused to believe that Voldemort was back, she and her family knew better. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, which, in this case, was her.“I promise, I will do all that I can to keep you from him.” Within a blink of an eye, he was flat on his back with Draco standing over him, his hands still clenched into fists at his side and the knuckles on his right hand bleeding from where they had split against his father's jaw.
“How dare you,” her twin snarled, fury radiating off of him in waves. “How dare you... GIVE her away like that. Like she was a piece of furniture.” She watched in terror as her father pulled himself to his feet so that he was towering over his son and wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. But this didn't stop Draco from letting his father know what he really thought of the situation. “You call yourself her father? No father would give their child out like a common whore!” Lucius had had enough. Practically growling, he whipped his wand out of his cane and pointed it at Draco, muttering a few choice words and sending a bolt of light toward him. But it never made contact. Buffy jumped to her feet, and a second later, the spell bounced off of an invisible barrier into a chair, knocking it over in the process.
“Buffy?” Narcissa asked softly, looking at her daughter in awe. No one in their family had a history of being able to perform wandless magic. It was extremely rare among the wizarding world, and it was even rarer to be able to control it. Buffy was quite surprised herself but kept her features schooled in a cool mask. She had no time to deal with that right now.
“If you ever, ever, touch him again,” Buffy started in a low voice, her narrowed eyes looking straight into her father's widened ones. “I will kill you.”
“Princess...” he trailed off at her look. She was in no mood for pet names. “Buffy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just-...”
“I'll do it,” she said, her stony gaze faltering slightly. “I'll be Voldemort's... companion.”
“Buffy, no!” Draco whispered, walking over to her and taking her hand, forcing her to look at him. “You can't. You don't know what he'll do to you.”
“I have to, Drake,” she answered with a sad smile in his direction before shooting her father a scathing look. “He'll kill all of us if we don't do what he asks. I'm sorry.” With that, she extracted her hand from his and walked out of the room, quickly making her way up the stairs and into her room, shutting and locking it as soon as she had entered. Sitting down on her bed, she buried her face in her hands, but refused to let herself cry. It was her duty. Her destiny. There was nothing she, or anybody else could do to stop it. Slowly getting up off of her bed, she walked over to her closet, pulling out her school trunk, which she had just finished unpacking a couple of days ago, and opened it, grabbing a handful of robes, as well as all of her muggle clothing, and dropping them in. Walking around her room, she gathered up all of her possessions and dumped them into the trunk before changing into her best set of black dress robes. Pulling the pins out of her hair, she let the blond locks fall around her shoulders, framing her face and accentuating her beautiful features. Might as well look good for her future owner. “Sorry Nessa,” she said sadly, poking her finger into her owl's cage to stroke its feathers. “I'm going to be gone for a while, but Drake'll take care of you.” It cooed in response, tilting its head and sensing that something was wrong. Giving her room one last longing glance, she grabbed her wand, and with a small flick, levitated the trunk off of the floor and out the door, following closely behind. Lucius had cast a powerful spell over their house, essentially sealing it from the rest of the world so that they could perform magic without the Ministry knowing. It was quite useful when you were teaching your children dark magic. Following her trunk down the stairs, she dropped it with a flick of her wand, walking back into the drawing room to find her parents and brother still arguing. “We should go.” Taking in her appearance, her mother ran over to her, enveloping her in a hug before holding her at arms length and staring into her eyes.
“Buffy, please. You can't do this,” she pleaded, the tears streaming down her face. “Please don't do this.”
“I have to, Mom,” Buffy whispered, reaching out to wipe the tears away, her resolve face firmly in place. “You know I have to.” Her mother once again dissolved into sobs and turned away, leaning onto the back of the couch for support. “Drake...”
“Don't do this, please,” he said and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. “Please, I need you.”
“Drake, I'm so sorry,” she buried her face in his chest and held onto him tighter, wanting to always remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, protecting her, keeping her safe. “I'm so sorry...”
“Buffy,” Lucius called, and she looked up to see him staring down at her. She made to move away from Draco, but he wouldn't let her go. “I'm so-...”
“No,” she ordered, cutting him off. “Don't.” Giving Draco one last squeeze, she extracted herself from his embrace and stepped back, giving him one last look before pushing past her father and walking into the front hall, watching as he entered after her. “Let's go.” With a curt nod, he grabbed her hand with his right and her trunk with her left, watching as she closed her eyes in anticipation of the side-along apparation. She had never really been a fan. All she saw before her world went black was Draco running into the room screaming her name before all of the air was sucked out of her lungs, making her cough violently. Then, before she had time to comprehend what had happened, air invaded her lungs, making her cough again, and she opened her eyes to see that they were standing in front of her aunt and uncle's place. Though the beautiful castle-like building it was quite a bit smaller than their's, it was breathtaking. It was made completely out of stone and several stories tall, she even spotted a turret or two. Jerking away at her father's hand on the small of her back, Buffy marched right up to the door, letting him carry her luggage. It was the least he could do since he had decided to give her to Voldemort. Reaching the door, she lifted the large brass door knocker and let it drop, resulting in a loud, echoing bang. The door opened, and she found herself face to face with a very large, very tall dark-haired man with brown eyes.
“Nott,” greeted Lucius, and the younger man let them in without hesitation, leading them through the spacious house to the drawing room. Just like the outside of the house, the inside was breathtaking. It was decorated in various shades of green and silver, and her aunt and uncle had not hesitated to put their most precious possessions on display for their guests. “My Lord,” he said with a bow as soon as he saw Voldemort, who was tall and skeletally-thin, with scarlet eyes and a flat, snake-like nose. Buffy eye's widened at the sight. She had never seen anything like it. He opened his mouth, and she expected a loud, booming voice, but it was quite the opposite.
“Ah, Lucius,” he greeted in a quiet, high-pitched voice. “I see you've brought a guest?” Buffy made a face but quickly forced her features to once again become impassive. People had been killed for less than making a face at him. She was sure of that. “Bring her here.” Shrugging off the hand that her father had placed on her shoulder, Buffy stepped forward, seemingly a lot calmer than she felt. Stopping in front of him, she looked straight into his eyes, an action that caused all of the Death Eaters in the room to gasp in shock.
“How dare you look the Dark Lord in the face, child!” screeched her aunt Bellatrix, and Buffy turned with wide eyes to see the older stalking toward her. Her aunt had never been the nicest person in the world, but she had never outright yelled at her. “Have you no respect!” She made to lunge for the blond, but Voldemort quickly held up a hand to stop her.
“Leave us,” he ordered, and everyone but Lucius quickly cleared out of the room. “You may go, Lucius.”
“But My Lord,” he protested but was quickly cut off.
“Go.” With a quick bow and one last look at his daughter, he disappeared, leaving Buffy and Voldemort to stare into each other's eyes. “Buffy, is it?” She clenched her jaw but nodded. “You're more beautiful than I could have imagined.” He extended a pale, freakishly long-fingered hand and brushed a stray lock of blond hair out of her face. She felt like screaming and jerking away, but she forced herself to remain passive, knowing that she could do nothing to jeopardize the safety of her family, even though her bastard father had sold her to the most powerful, and most dangerous wizard in the world. “It's quite late, shall I show you to your quarters?” She gave him another subservient nod and allowed him to take her hand in his and lead her out of the room, up the stairs, and down a long corridor to a door on the left. Opening the heavy wooden door, he gestured for her to enter, watching her reaction as she surveyed the large room. There was a large bay window against the far wall with a built-in bench, covered in plush-looking cushions lining it, a large four-poster bed draped in silver and green, a ornately carved wardrobe, and two bedside tables, one holding a lamp and the other a vase of freshly cut, blood-red roses. There was another door across the room, which she assumed led to the bathroom. “I hope you find your living quarters satisfactory. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, My Lord,” she muttered softly, refusing to meet his gaze. With one last touch of her cheek, he swept out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving her staring after him. Turning around, she noticed that her trunk had already been placed by the foot of the bed and walked over to it, shedding her black dress robes and changing into a short white nightgown before sliding beneath the emerald green sheets, her emotions finally overwhelming her. Resting her head on the soft pillow, she closed her eyes, once again wondering what was going to happen to her and letting herself cry for the first time.
Well, that's it for now! Hope you've all enjoyed it so far! Please drop me a review on your way out... Reviews are my antidrug. =D