Chapter Text
"While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die."
Wraith had a half an hour of simple peace, soaking in the tub the size of a small swimming pool. She stayed at the shallowest end of it as she wasn't at all confident in her swimming ability. She felt weary right down to the bone, but at least one heavy burden had been lifted from her heart.
She did not have to return to Slytherin Manor. No matter how many times she mentally reminded herself of this fact, it brought with it the same flood of relief every time.
And the Dark Lord would not be living in the castle either, she realized. He would return to the Manor without her.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, she felt the Dark Lord's presence just outside the bathroom door. She shifted slightly in the water, unsure of what was to come.
"My Wraith."
"Yes, my Lord?"
"I would like to speak with you."
Wraith glanced down at the water, terribly aware of her nudity, and then berated her own silliness. Her Lord had already seen her half-naked––how much of a difference would being seen completely naked make?
"You can come in," she called, looking back to the door. Despite herself, she leaned forward to wrap her arms around her knees to mostly hide her nakedness.
Voldemort stepped into the room, closing the door behind him without taking his eyes from the sight of his Wraith in the water. He circled around the bathtub, while his Wraith turned her head to follow his movement.
"You wanted to speak with me?" she prompted when he'd reached her side again.
"Yes," he said, kneeling down. He reached out to touch her arm, distracted briefly by the sight of the vivid red scar marring the pale skin.
Wraith looked down at it. "It'll disappear in the next few days," she said softly, "I doubt it'll be all that visible tomorrow."
"How do you know?"
"Vaisey's bullet," she reminded him. "There was a similar scar from the gunshot wound. It didn't last long." She shrugged, "This one might last longer, as the wound was more serious."
Voldemort nodded and straightened as she soft knock came to the door. He crossed, frowning slightly, and opened it a crack.
A trembling house-elf stood in the doorway, carrying a pile of towels and clothing. Voldemort stepped aside and gestured the little creature inside. The elf scurried to a small table across the room, which sat next to a folding screen, and he set his burden down upon the tabletop. Then he bowed to the Dark Lord and to Wraith before he disappeared through the door once more.
Voldemort took a towel from the pile and unfolded it, standing at the edge of the water. "Out," he told her.
Wraith hesitated and Voldemort gave her an arched look. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and waited. Wraith fought a smile as she quickly climbed out and wrapped the towel around herself.
"Okay," she said softly.
Voldemort opened his eyes and stepped closer to her. He touched her bare shoulder and let his hand drift across her skin, warmed from the water she'd been soaking in.
"…You saved my life."
Wraith was silent, unsure of how to respond.
Out in the hall, Snape knelt in front of the door, grateful for the way it was cracked open. He'd feared that his instructions to the house-elf wouldn't be followed or that either the Dark Lord or the Wraith would notice the elf had left the door open. He was only just able to see where they were standing within the room, but he could hear them clearly.
"You very nearly died in the attempt," the Dark Lord said, now circling around her.
"Not so nearly," Wraith murmured.
"I beg to differ," Voldemort said, standing behind her.
He touched a hand to her chin and turned her head. She looked up at him, the knuckles of her hands white as she clutched the towel against her. Voldemort's other hand drifted around to caress the vivid scar upon her arm. Snape saw the way she trembled slightly as she leaned back against him.
"If you hadn't been able to shield yourself from that tower, you would have been crushed."
Wraith said nothing, didn't trust herself to speak.
"Tell me, my Wraith," Voldemort said softly, "Would you die for me?"
"Yes," Wraith replied without hesitation.
The utter conviction in her voice made Snape shiver.
Her lips twisted into something of a smile. "After all, I wouldn't even have a life if it wasn't for you, now would I?" she said, touching the hand upon her arm, "My creator."
Snape felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach. Creator?
Voldemort laughed softly, bending his head down slightly. "If any one of my other followers swore they would die for me, my pet, I would hesitate to believe them. But you––you, I believe without a doubt."
Wraith closed her eyes with a sigh. "I couldn't let you be hurt," she whispered.
"I'm grateful," Voldemort told her, "and I will not forget it. You are more than deserving of a reward, my Wraith."
She opened her eyes and searched his face. "What I want," she began, her voice soft, "you've already given me. You've brought me away from the Manor."
"So easily pleased," Voldemort said, only a touch of incredulity to his tone.
Wraith smiled and shook her head, stepping away from him. He saw at once that she had started to shiver from the cold and likely exhaustion as well.
"Get dressed," he said to her, looking over her thin frame.
Wraith nodded quickly and crossed to the folding screen. She ducked behind it and finished drying herself off. Her hair was still soaked, but she let it go.
Snape slowly stood and crossed the hall to a nearby painting. "Phineas," he hissed, hoping that the portrait of the former headmaster would hear him.
"How do you expect me to spy on them if you're calling me out here into the hall?" Phineas said drawlingly as he stepped into sight within the painting.
"I want to know if I heard the girl correctly," Snape said swiftly, his eyes on the door still. "Did she call the Dark Lord her 'creator'? Did I mishear her?"
"No," Phineas replied, his constant air of sarcasm briefly subsided.
Snape was silent a moment. "Talk with the other portraits, see which might have any information on magical constructs."
"I've never heard of a human construct…not one that actually survived."
"Speak with the others," Snape told him again, "I'll be up shortly." He moved back to the doorway and knelt once more.
After she'd slipped on her underwear, Wraith reached out for the dress folded with the towels on the table. But as she reached for it, the Dark Lord's hand closed around her wrist and pulled he pulled her out where he could see her. She froze.
Out in the hall, Snape cursed mentally and quickly averted his eyes. But not before he had seen exactly what the Dark Lord had. The Wraith's body was terribly emaciated. Even at a distance and in the short time he'd seen, Snape was certain he could count her ribs beneath her skin.
Voldemort touched a hand to those ribs and his hand drifted down to the sharp angles of her hips. "You lied to me," he said lowly, his eyes locking with hers.
Wraith closed her eyes, fighting the temptation to cover her bare chest.
"This isn't only from tonight's exertions," the Dark Lord continued. "You've been overextending yourself for months, haven't you?"
"I wanted to be of use to you," Wraith whispered.
"And you have certainly been useful," Voldemort conceded, "but you'll be of no use at all if you burn yourself out, my pet."
"And what if I hadn't lied?" Wraith demanded of him, "What if I hadn't been there tonight?"
"A point," Voldemort said with a short nod. "I'll forgive the lie––but you will need time to fully heal, my Wraith."
"I know," she said softly.
"You will be able to do so here," Voldemort told her. "For the next few months at least, your duties at Lady Death will be suspended."
Wraith finally opened her eyes again and the Dark Lord was pleased to see the sharp glint in them. "If I disappear after tonight…people might just assume that I have died," she said slowly.
"And what a horrible shock it will be for them when it becomes clear it isn't true," Voldemort said, smiling just slightly.
Wraith lowered her eyes, her mind racing.
Voldemort released her wrist, "Finish dressing."
"Yes, my Lord." Wraith ducked behind the screen again and hurriedly dressed.
Snape waited until she had emerged fully dressed and was taking a brush through her black hair before he straightened and knocked once upon the door.
"Enter," the Dark Lord said. Both he and the Wraith turned when Snape entered the room.
"My Lord," Snape said, bowing to the Dark Lord, "My Lady," he added, bowing his head to Wraith, "I have rooms prepared for you on the seventh floor."
"You will show them to her in a while, Severus," Voldemort said idly. "I must take my leave––there are things to be dealt with at the Manor."
Wraith glanced sharply at her Lord. "What is going to happen to Bellatrix?" she asked plainly.
"Imprisonment would be best," Voldemort said callously, "No harm will come to the unborn child, my pet. You have my word." He gave her a curious look. "I am surprised that you care."
"It is not the child's fault who its mother happens to be," Wraith said with a small shrug. "I see no reason to punish a child for the parent's mistakes."
"Ah." Voldemort touched a hand to Wraith's chin, searching her eyes. "Walk me out, my pet."
The Dark Lord and his Wraith walked down to the entrance hall, shadowed by Snape who remained several steps behind. There was a fragile air around the Wraith and he knew without asking that she was very close to collapsing. Snape kept a careful eye upon her as they reached the front doors.
Standing on the front steps, the Dark Lord turned back to Wraith. "I'll return tomorrow," he told her, "There are several things that we need to discuss, with all of my Death Eaters. We'll hold our meetings here at Hogwarts until you've recovered enough to Apparate again."
"Yes, my Lord," Wraith said softly.
"Come here," he instructed her. She stepped down until she stood beside him. "Try not to kill Severus, my pet," he said, running a hand down her hair.
"I'll resist the temptation," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at Snape. To Snape's surprise, there was only a spark of dislike in her eyes, rather than the full heat of hatred he'd come to expect. Wraith turned her eyes back to Voldemort. "You'll visit here?"
"When I can," Voldemort replied vaguely. He looked to Snape briefly. "Severus, give us a moment."
Snape bowed his head and stepped back inside, closing the door.
Voldemort put a hand at the back of Wraith's neck and tilted her head back. There was a flash of heat in the kiss that surprised Wraith and despite her exhaustion she responded to it. She curled her hand around his neck as her lips parted beneath his.
Slowly, Voldemort pulled back, caressing her cheek as he stepped away. "Once you have recovered, there will none to match you," he said, his voice low. "Lord Voldemort never forgets those who have aided him. I will not forget that you saved my life."
"As I never forget that you gave me life," Wraith replied softly.
Voldemort smiled slowly and turned away. "Until tomorrow, my Wraith."
Wraith stood at the top of the steps, watching him walk away. She waited until he had disappeared through the gates before she too turned and walked back into the castle. Snape was waiting at the staircase within. He remained still until she had reached him before he started up the stairs. Wraith followed him up to the seventh floor.
When he stopped before a door, he looked back at her at last. "You must be more than ready to sleep," he said. Wraith nodded shortly, not meeting his eyes. "Here," Snape said, opening the door. He led her into the room and stepped back to let her examine it.
Wraith looked around and her first thought was that the first room was a perfect mixture of her rooms at the Malfoys' and her tower at the Manor. The walls were stone and hung with tapestries, but the room held only a long couch and several chairs and small tables. There were two thin tall windows at each side of a larger, more ornate window that also had a window seat.
Wraith crossed the room to a second door to the right, which led to the bedroom. Within was a large canopy bed and smaller window. There was also a large wardrobe made of dark wood, set with a mirror in each door. Wraith went to the bed and ran a hand over the soft covers.
As she straightened, she finally looked to Snape, standing in the doorway. "Thank you." There was a hard underlying tone to the words, but Snape accepted them with a nod.
He started to turn, but then stopped himself. "…It wasn't only the Dark Lord's life you saved tonight," he said to her. Wraith blinked at him, unsure of what his intentions were. "You nearly killed yourself making sure that every one of us got out of that house alive. That kind of selfless act is not often seen amongst us."
Wraith turned her head away, frowning. "That's because such selflessness has no place among us."
"Perhaps a place should be made."
Wraith looked at him sharply, but he had already walked away. She heard the door close behind him and only then did she step back into the front room.
As she crossed to the center window and settled herself among the cushions, she admired the view beyond the glass. The grounds were cast in shadow, but the lake itself glittered with the stars that hung above it.
Now, Wraith realized, now I feel like I'm home.
End of Part One