"You are the love of my life," Y/N said. "I love you."
"If loving me comes with shame," Hermione breathed in a shaky breath. "I don't want your love."
In a matter of seconds, Y/N's world came tumbling down. Hermione's words hit her...
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Voldemort's cold, bony fingers tightened around Y/N's delicate neck, cutting off her breath and pressing her against the unforgiving stone statue. The pain radiated through her body, coursing like a venomous serpent through her veins. But even in the face of such torment, Y/N refused to surrender to the darkness that threatened to consume her.
She mustered every ounce of strength within her, every flicker of defiance that burned within her soul. Her eyes, fierce and defiant, met Voldemort's gaze, refusing to yield to the malevolence that emanated from him. Despite the excruciating agony that coursed through her, she summoned a defiant glare, her unbroken spirit shining through her remaining eye.
"Don't touch me!" Y/N's voice rang out, her words filled with a mixture of fury and defiance. Though physically overpowered, her spirit remained unbroken. Voldemort's smirk widened, savoring the taste of power and control.
Voldemort's voice dripped with a chilling arrogance as he reveled in the pain and suffering he had inflicted upon Y/N.
"Standing on the bones of my father..." he hissed, relishing in the darkness of his past and the terror he had instilled in the wizarding world.
"I'd introduce you, but word has it you're almost as famous as me these days." His words dripped with mockery and a twisted sense of pride.
"Your abilities are legend. The power of Flame itself. Oh yes, you'd make a fine Death Eater." Voldemort teased as Y/N seethed in anger.
"You've made friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, yes? God-siblings." Voldemort trailed off.
Voldemort's cold, serpent-like eyes bore into Y/N's defiant gaze, his lips curled into a twisted smile that exuded malevolence. With every word, he reveled in the power of his taunting, savoring the anguish and turmoil it inflicted upon his captive.
"Shall I reveal what truly happened to your godparents that night thirteen years ago?" Voldemort's voice dripped with sinister delight.
The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within Y/N. A mix of anger, grief, and curiosity swirled within her as she braced herself for the horrifying truth.
"Shall I divulge how I truly lost my powers?" Voldemort's voice trailed off, a mocking undertone lacing his words. The intensity of his gaze intensified, probing Y/N's reaction, relishing in the anticipation that danced in the air between them.
"Yes... Shall I?" Voldemort's voice lowered to a dangerous whisper, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. She recoiled as he leaned in closer, his presence suffocating, his breath like a toxic mist against her skin. Her body trembled, but her glare remained unyielding.
And then, he spoke. The words fell from his lips like venomous drops, dripping with contempt and disdain.
"It was love," Voldemort deadpanned, his voice laced with bitter mockery. Y/N's eyes widened, her heart racing as his revelation began to unravel the intricate web of her past.
