Post by Crystal on Jun 4, 2010 16:49:41 GMT -8
Title: Caught
Rating: R
Warning: Contains scenes of a sexual nature
Pairing: Voldy/Petunia
Summary: Voldemort catches up with Petunia.
Notes: Takes place right after Chapter 3, The Dursleys Departing (book 7). (Dedalus and Hestia were driving away with the Dursleys).
This is my first HP fic … and I can’t believe it’s Voldy/Petunia… ugh! It sort of switches POV… hope it’s not confusing! Also, I know it’s late but I was super scared to post it…
“Is this as fast at this thing goes?” Dedalus Diggle was sitting in the passenger seat, pushing radio buttons in a frantic attempt to boost the speed.
“Don’t touch anything,” Vernon snarled, slapping Diggle’s hand away from the controls. Petunia took a deep breath, biting her lip to refrain from saying anything. Her husband really didn’t understand the peril they were in; the seriousness of their haste.
Hestia Jones sat in the back, between Dudley and Petunia, looking straight out the windshield. Her eyes were worried, but she had said nothing since the Dursley’s less-than-friendly departure from their nephew. How they took such little interest in the young man, she could never guess. The only one of them that seemed to have any sense at all was the younger fat one, who was currently taking the majority of the back seat. Hestia was half on Petunia’s lap to avoid being crushed by Dudley’s massive legs.
Petunia pressed herself against the door, trying to give Hestia as much room as possible. “How far is it we have to go?”
“Not far at all, at this rate!” Diggle turned around to see her between his seat and the passenger door. “We must apparate now!” He checked his watch as Hestia did the same.
“What, here?” Vernon sputtered, continuing to drive on the interstate. “There’s nowhere to park-”
“Forget the car, Vernon!” Petunia shrieked. Taking a shaky breath, she leaned forward to glance at her son before meeting Vernon’s eyes in his rearview mirror. “Pull over!”
Sputtering, Vernon jerked the car to the side of the road. As everyone clambered out, Hestia and Diggle began to talk in hushed tones. They appeared to be arguing, and Petunia caught the words ‘two trips’ as Hestia motioned at the obvious size of Vernon and Dudley.
“Take them first,” Petunia cut in, generating looks of shock from her family. She stepped forward, voice pleading. “You must take Dudders first, of course, and he’ll be better off with his father to keep him company while I wait.”
“Petunia…” Vernon had a horrified look on his face, but he didn’t argue. She knew he wouldn’t.
“We’ll be gone but a few moments,” Diggle piped, grasping Vernon’s arm while Hestia reached for Dudley. With a pop they were gone, leaving Petunia standing along the deserted interstate.
As she clasped her hands before her, Petunia heard a swoosh behind her. Spinning around, she tried frantically to remain standing as her legs weakened. Her breath quickened as her heart raced; standing before her was a very strange looking man, with slit nostrils, red eyes, wearing a black cloak.
“Do you know Harry Potter?” he hissed.
Awed, Petunia stepped toward him. “He’s my nephew,” she breathed, feeling it unwise to lie. Why should she, anyway? The boy would be gone by now.
Voldemort gripped his wand and held it up. This was the muggle that the boy had found refuge with for 16 years… yes, he could see the resemblance she held with her sister. He remembered Lily well; he usually left the killing to his faithful, yet blundering, Death Eaters. However, those he did away with personally, held certain… appeal to him. The ecstatic rush he had when he was eliminating the threat of the prophesy, the thrill of the kill as Lily pleaded for her son… it all came back to him now as he rounded on this muggle-version of the beginning of all his problems. Lowering his wand, he felt an unfamiliar urge in his lower region. It certainly didn’t help how she was gazing at him, moving closer toward him…
She should be scared. He was like nothing she’d ever seen before; the object of nightmares, and the cause of her sister’s death. He was a murderer. But… there was something about him. He radiated power, which was something she never got. Had she not been jealous of her sister’s acceptance letter to Hogwarts? Jealous of her wand; of her friends? Petunia had always been left behind, trying to show that she didn’t want magic; and insisted that she, in fact, detested the abnormality that magic represented. She married Vernon to prove it.
Pushing the thoughts of her mundane husband aside, Petunia took another step toward this man, this one that the others refused to call by name. He would hurt her, she knew. He would kill her in an instant. Yet she was alive; a fact that confused him as much as it did her. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, not wanting to let her go with the others that would surely soon be returning.
He apparated with her into the Malfoy manor, where he would be most comfortable. His master bedroom was scarcely decorated, but served its purpose. Nagini was curled up by the fireplace. The large snake lifted her head as Voldemort told her to wait outside and see to it that he remained undisturbed. The muggle appeared frightened as he hissed the orders at Nagini; he laughed at her discomfort. “Wishing you had run now?” he snarled quietly. His hand was still gripping her arm.
“Not at all,” she huffed. She wrapped her arms about his neck before raking her fingers along his chest. “Not at all,” she repeated, this time at a whisper. Her hands slipped inside his cloak, her eyes on his expectantly.
Unused to this aggression against him, Voldemort couldn’t stand it. He was gasping for air as his loins burned. Grabbing her around the waist, he shoved her onto the bed. His heart was beating as it had back at Godric’s Hollow, as it did every time before he killed. But the corresponding desire was very different. The excitement was not in his chest, but in his pants.
Unzipping his pants and hiking up her skirts, he otherwise kept their clothes on. With his confident eagerness, she might never have guessed it was his first time, except he misaimed his first attempt to penetrate her; fortunately, her excitement provided her a quick release for he didn’t last long. Exhausted, he watched her collapse back onto his pillow, panting. This won’t do at all, he thought, standing up from the bed. With a flick of his wand, there was a flash of green light as he disposed of her before calling Nagini back in.
Rating: R
Warning: Contains scenes of a sexual nature
Pairing: Voldy/Petunia
Summary: Voldemort catches up with Petunia.
Notes: Takes place right after Chapter 3, The Dursleys Departing (book 7). (Dedalus and Hestia were driving away with the Dursleys).
This is my first HP fic … and I can’t believe it’s Voldy/Petunia… ugh! It sort of switches POV… hope it’s not confusing! Also, I know it’s late but I was super scared to post it…
“Is this as fast at this thing goes?” Dedalus Diggle was sitting in the passenger seat, pushing radio buttons in a frantic attempt to boost the speed.
“Don’t touch anything,” Vernon snarled, slapping Diggle’s hand away from the controls. Petunia took a deep breath, biting her lip to refrain from saying anything. Her husband really didn’t understand the peril they were in; the seriousness of their haste.
Hestia Jones sat in the back, between Dudley and Petunia, looking straight out the windshield. Her eyes were worried, but she had said nothing since the Dursley’s less-than-friendly departure from their nephew. How they took such little interest in the young man, she could never guess. The only one of them that seemed to have any sense at all was the younger fat one, who was currently taking the majority of the back seat. Hestia was half on Petunia’s lap to avoid being crushed by Dudley’s massive legs.
Petunia pressed herself against the door, trying to give Hestia as much room as possible. “How far is it we have to go?”
“Not far at all, at this rate!” Diggle turned around to see her between his seat and the passenger door. “We must apparate now!” He checked his watch as Hestia did the same.
“What, here?” Vernon sputtered, continuing to drive on the interstate. “There’s nowhere to park-”
“Forget the car, Vernon!” Petunia shrieked. Taking a shaky breath, she leaned forward to glance at her son before meeting Vernon’s eyes in his rearview mirror. “Pull over!”
Sputtering, Vernon jerked the car to the side of the road. As everyone clambered out, Hestia and Diggle began to talk in hushed tones. They appeared to be arguing, and Petunia caught the words ‘two trips’ as Hestia motioned at the obvious size of Vernon and Dudley.
“Take them first,” Petunia cut in, generating looks of shock from her family. She stepped forward, voice pleading. “You must take Dudders first, of course, and he’ll be better off with his father to keep him company while I wait.”
“Petunia…” Vernon had a horrified look on his face, but he didn’t argue. She knew he wouldn’t.
“We’ll be gone but a few moments,” Diggle piped, grasping Vernon’s arm while Hestia reached for Dudley. With a pop they were gone, leaving Petunia standing along the deserted interstate.
As she clasped her hands before her, Petunia heard a swoosh behind her. Spinning around, she tried frantically to remain standing as her legs weakened. Her breath quickened as her heart raced; standing before her was a very strange looking man, with slit nostrils, red eyes, wearing a black cloak.
“Do you know Harry Potter?” he hissed.
Awed, Petunia stepped toward him. “He’s my nephew,” she breathed, feeling it unwise to lie. Why should she, anyway? The boy would be gone by now.
Voldemort gripped his wand and held it up. This was the muggle that the boy had found refuge with for 16 years… yes, he could see the resemblance she held with her sister. He remembered Lily well; he usually left the killing to his faithful, yet blundering, Death Eaters. However, those he did away with personally, held certain… appeal to him. The ecstatic rush he had when he was eliminating the threat of the prophesy, the thrill of the kill as Lily pleaded for her son… it all came back to him now as he rounded on this muggle-version of the beginning of all his problems. Lowering his wand, he felt an unfamiliar urge in his lower region. It certainly didn’t help how she was gazing at him, moving closer toward him…
She should be scared. He was like nothing she’d ever seen before; the object of nightmares, and the cause of her sister’s death. He was a murderer. But… there was something about him. He radiated power, which was something she never got. Had she not been jealous of her sister’s acceptance letter to Hogwarts? Jealous of her wand; of her friends? Petunia had always been left behind, trying to show that she didn’t want magic; and insisted that she, in fact, detested the abnormality that magic represented. She married Vernon to prove it.
Pushing the thoughts of her mundane husband aside, Petunia took another step toward this man, this one that the others refused to call by name. He would hurt her, she knew. He would kill her in an instant. Yet she was alive; a fact that confused him as much as it did her. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, not wanting to let her go with the others that would surely soon be returning.
He apparated with her into the Malfoy manor, where he would be most comfortable. His master bedroom was scarcely decorated, but served its purpose. Nagini was curled up by the fireplace. The large snake lifted her head as Voldemort told her to wait outside and see to it that he remained undisturbed. The muggle appeared frightened as he hissed the orders at Nagini; he laughed at her discomfort. “Wishing you had run now?” he snarled quietly. His hand was still gripping her arm.
“Not at all,” she huffed. She wrapped her arms about his neck before raking her fingers along his chest. “Not at all,” she repeated, this time at a whisper. Her hands slipped inside his cloak, her eyes on his expectantly.
Unused to this aggression against him, Voldemort couldn’t stand it. He was gasping for air as his loins burned. Grabbing her around the waist, he shoved her onto the bed. His heart was beating as it had back at Godric’s Hollow, as it did every time before he killed. But the corresponding desire was very different. The excitement was not in his chest, but in his pants.
Unzipping his pants and hiking up her skirts, he otherwise kept their clothes on. With his confident eagerness, she might never have guessed it was his first time, except he misaimed his first attempt to penetrate her; fortunately, her excitement provided her a quick release for he didn’t last long. Exhausted, he watched her collapse back onto his pillow, panting. This won’t do at all, he thought, standing up from the bed. With a flick of his wand, there was a flash of green light as he disposed of her before calling Nagini back in.