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Chapter Text

There were some benefits to being Head Boy – besides power and control, of course – the greatest of them being having a private room. In his seventh year, Tom Riddle had arrived at Hogwarts a changed man. Namely, he had developed a taste for sex, thanks to his interactions with one Amy Benson, muggle.

The silly hat he had to wear was worth it, he'd concluded. 

Tom had taken the first opportunity to sneak a girl into his room early in the term, engaging in all types of debauchery, and it was pleasurable, but it wasn’t the same. Even as the girls – and there were many - writhed and moaned under him, it always felt wrong because it wasn’t her. Everything about these girls was wrong – they were not afraid of him, first and foremost, as he had to keep his true nature a secret while he was still a student at Hogwarts, but also, everything from head to toe was wrong – the way they smelled, the look and feel of their skin, the sounds they made, their taste, their voices – everything.

As time passed, Tom could not admit that he missed Amy. What he missed, he insisted to himself, was their perfect dynamic – her helplessness and the desperate desire for him that he had carefully cultivated. Tom figured that Amy had probably forgotten about him by now, having taken the potions he left her, but he could not be sure. The question of whether he might have a child out there somewhere did weigh on his mind from time to time – the curiosity eating at him. One day he would endeavor to find out – until then, he would fuck the most attractive girls at Hogwarts.

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Life goes on. Amy had waited an entire year after Tom left before marrying Edward “Eddie” Richardson. Eddie had not minded that Amy was pregnant when he ran into her at St. Ursula’s – a church that was known to assist unwed mothers. Eddie was a veteran with a war injury who volunteered at the church’s soup kitchen once a week. He was a kind man, though a lot older than Amy, he had welcomed her and her baby with open arms.

Amy had been upset after Tom had left her with the most difficult decision of her life. Did she accept the heartbreak or erase her memories of Tom? Did she have the child of the man she loved – a man who did not deserve it – or did she end the pregnancy that had been foisted upon her? She had thought about it long and hard for days before deciding that, no, she would move forward as was. She didn’t want to forget Tom even though it hurt, and she was already attached to the baby.

Alas, Amy’s promise of heartbreak was fulfilled, as Tom neither wrote nor visited. Many months passed as Amy and Eddie slowly got to know each other, before they officially started dating. When Eddie proposed, Amy knew she could not ask for a better husband. Shortly after having her son, Victor Thomas Riddle, Amy and Eddie were married in a small ceremony at St. Ursula’s – most of Amy’s guests were friends and staff from the orphanage. After their marriage, Amy left Wool’s and moved into Eddie’s humble home in East London. Eddie insisted that they change Victor’s surname to Richardson, and they filed the change with the district’s magistrate.

Mourning the loss of her first love, and the father of her child, took its toll on Amy, and she was resolved to never seeing Tom again. Soon, she would get so caught up in being a wife and a mother that she forgot all about Tom – that is, until Victor was close to his second birthday. The child had fair skin, dark eyes that glittered in the sunlight, and beautiful, thick, black curls. He was the spitting image of Tom, and Amy began being reminded of Tom on a daily basis as he grew.

She wondered where Tom was, what he was doing. Surely he had left school by now, she thought. She tried her hardest not to think of Tom, to put Eddie first, but some part of her still longed for Tom – loved Tom. She couldn’t help him, and tried not to dwell on it, but her smile was sometimes a little sad when she looked at her beautiful baby boy – who was definitely his father’s son.

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Tom Riddle found himself in muggle London for the first time since he’d left Wool’s. He was on an errand for Mr. Burke that took him to a squib who lived not far from the orphanage. Curiosity overwhelmed him as he left the meeting with his client, and Tom decided to stop by his old home to see how Amy was doing.

Tom was not sure what kind of reception to expect from Mrs. Cole.

“I’m here to inquire after Amy,” he said, hat in hand. Mrs. Cole scoffed. “After all this time? Better late than never, I suppose.”

Mrs. Cole showed Tom in to the entryway. She sighed, “I suppose you are always welcome here, Tom. This is your home, after all.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cole,” Tom said, inclining his head slightly towards the matron.

“Amy no longer lives here, Tom. She was married and left more than a year ago.”

Tom felt the blood drain from his face, but tried to keep himself together. He had given Amy a choice, after all. It appeared she had taken it.

“And the baby..” Mrs. Cole continued.

Tom looked up in surprise. There’d been a baby? His baby?

“I’ve seen him recently. He looks just like you, little Victor.”

Tom felt his heart soar. He had a son! He had been certain that Amy would have taken the first available opportunity to end the pregnancy, but she didn’t. That also meant that she hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Victor..” he whispered. “Thank you, Mrs. Cole. Do you know where I can find Amy and Victor?”

Mrs. Cole thought for a moment, wondering whether it was safe to give that information to Tom. “Very well, I imagine he is your son, after all. I shall look up her address for you.” With that, Mrs. Cole disappeared into her office briefly, and returned with a piece of paper that read:

Mrs. Edward Richardson

25 Holly Lane

East End, London

 

“It’s next to a bakery,” she added.

Tom thanked Mrs. Cole and left. He had to return to Mr. Burke with his recent acquisition, but he had a visit he was eager to make and soon.

Chapter Text

It was not difficult to locate the small house next to the bakery on Holly Lane in the East End. Tom’s long coat billowed around him as, disillusioned, he watched the front of the house for signs of activity. Amy – and his son – they should be in that house.

With another man.

He was waiting some time before Amy emerged pushing a carriage, cooing at the baby therein as she pushed him towards the park across the street without paying much attention of her surroundings. Amy was still very young but looked quite adult – her hair done up as was the style, still black and shining but put in rolls on the top of her head, with white gloves and a small hat on. A rather small dress too, Tom thought, as he fell into step behind mother and child.

Unnoticed, Tom placed himself in the shadow of a tree when Amy stopped to sit on a park bench, pushing the baby carriage back and forth. She seemed to be waiting for someone. Tom thought about approaching her, and was wondering how he should go about it when a man arrived. This much be Edward Richardson. He was far too old for Amy, Tom thought, he had to be at least in his 30s, but he smiled warmly at her before bending down to pick up the baby from the carriage. “That’s my boy,” he said, lifting the giggling toddler above his head.

Tom felt a jealous rage building inside of him. Your boy, hmm? He thought, clenching his fists tightly. Yet Tom stayed silent and remained out of sight while the small family sat on the grass nearby, encouraging his son to walk between the two adults.

The baby did resemble Tom in all the most obvious ways. Tom wondered when he would be able to tell whether he was magical as well. He knew he had begun to show signs of magic by the time he was old enough for school, but might not remember any signs he showed earlier.

Either way, this was his son, and part of Tom beamed with pride at the beautiful, robust little boy toddling around. Passersby even stopped several times to remark about how “cute” or “adorable” little Victor was – none of them noticing the dark presence of his father nearby.

Tom’s eyes narrowed as Mr. Richardson put his arm around Amy. Another man touching his woman? A filthy muggle raising his son?

He watched the family until they left the park, before heading home with a lot on his mind.

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In general, it would be almost effortless for a wizard to break into a muggle home – Tom could do it with his eyes closed and both hands behind his back – but the Richardsons had not even locked their front door. In the dead of night, Tom let himself into 25 Holly Lane. The family was asleep upstairs. First, Tom took a look around the family room and kitchen, shuddering at how utterly mundane everything in them appeared, then he crept up the stairs to the first bedroom he could find – the baby’s room. He approached the crib quietly and gazed at his son, Victor, sleeping peacefully therein. Once again, Tom wondered whether there would be more than a superficial resemblance to his father. He reached out to stroke the baby’s fat cheek, but drew his fingers back at the last moment, remembering why he was there.

Mr. and Mrs. Richardson must be sleeping another flight up. Tom went up the stairs, which squeaked quite a bit. At this point, he didn’t care whether he woke anyone up – he was prepared for a confrontation. When he reached the door of the master bedroom, Tom felt nauseated when he saw Amy and Edward in the same bed. “We meet again,” he announced, waiting for both muggles to wake from their slumber. Amy screamed and Edward yelled “Who are you? Why are you in my house?” while throwing the covers off of him to have a go at Tom.

Tom grinned maliciously, brandishing his wand in the man's direction. “Avada Kedavra!” he shouted, and Eddie Richardson crumpled back onto the bed, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.

“No!” Amy screamed, rushing over to her husband’s body. “No! What have you done?”

Tom grinned as Amy gathered up Eddie’s body and held him against her chest, weeping. “Oh, god, Eddie, no, please don’t leave me! Please!” The young woman was shaking as grief cascaded through her. Downstairs, the baby started crying.

Looking up at Tom, eyes red and full of tears, Amy hissed “see what you’ve done!” before going to comfort the baby.

Tom followed her to his crib and watched as Amy bounced and patted Victor.

“We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said. Amy turned away from him, which left Victor facing his father. Tom tapped his finger to the baby’s button nose. “Hello there,” he said. “I’m your daddy.”

“Dada,” Victor gurgled, before turning his head away from Tom shyly.

Tom reached out to stroke the baby’s lush hair. “My son,” he whispered.

Amy spun around to face him. “How dare you?” Amy choked out. “You disappear for years only to show up in the middle of the night and murder the man who has been loving and taking care of me and Victor for all this time, then you have the audacity to call him your son?”

Tom took a few steps forward, looking down at Amy, his eyes glowing red. “Put the baby down,” he commanded. Amy shook in fear, knowing she and Victor were both in danger. She shushed the baby, telling him it would be alright, and gently placed him back in his crib before looking to Tom, who pulled her out of the baby’s room and shut the door.

Tom got a fistful of Amy’s hair and forced her to her knees. “Never. Speak to me that way. In front of my son. Ever again,” he spat.

“Okay! Okay!” Amy cried, hands in her hair, trying to relieve the agony of having it pulled so tightly. “I’m sorry! Please! You’re hurting me!”

Tom abruptly let Amy go, and she remained on the floor in front of him, sobbing. “Eddie..” she whimpered.

“Get your things together,” Tom snapped.

“What?” Amy sniffed, confused.

“Get your things. We’re leaving.”

Chapter Text

Tom had Amy gather essential items for her and the baby, as well as any objects of value, and place them in the baby’s crib. While making use of his crib, Tom held his toddler for the first time, and little Victor seemed to warm up to him at last, putting his grubby little hands all over Tom’s face and hair.

Amy sobbed as she sorted through all of the family’s earthly possessions, taking some items belonging to Eddie as mementos, and others because they held value - as Tom had asked. She tried to avoid the bedroom where her husband lie with a vacant expression, but in the end she had to go there to get clothing and jewelry. She could not bring herself to look at the body, moving gingerly around the room so that her back would be to it at all times, with tears streaming down her face.

Once everything had been loaded into the crib, Tom handed Victor back to Amy. “This might feel funny,” Tom warned, before taking Amy’s free hand in one hand, getting a grip on the crib in the other. “Whatever happens, do not let go of my hand or the baby,” Tom warned, before apparating the three of them directly into his Knockturn Alley flat.

As soon as they appeared, Tom went into action and swooped in to catch Amy as she stumbled and nearly collapsed to the floor. “What was that?” she asked, feeling nauseated.

“That was what’s called apparation. It can be a bit unpleasant, especially when one is not used to it. I’ve brought you to my flat,” Tom explained. Amy looked around in wonder. The apartment was very small and very humble – essentially a bedsit. A tiny kitchen stood in one corner, a bed in the other, in the middle were a few sparse pieces of furniture. Definitely a bachelor’s flat. Amy was thankful to find that a small bathroom with a tub was tucked away behind a door – at least there would be some privacy.

“Are we to live here now?” Amy asked, her voice belying her feelings towards the matter.

Tom nodded. “Victor is my child and you’re the mother of my child. It is only right that you live with me.”

Amy was not thrilled about having had her husband murdered in front of her eyes and then been brought to live with Tom without having a say in the matter, and Tom sensed her hesitation.

“I don’t have much, but I will take care of you both. Besides, you can’t go back. Everyone will assume that you killed your husband for his money and ran off.”

Amy felt sick. That was probably true. It had been an odd match to begin with – a young mother with an older man and a baby who did not belong to him. People already did not think well of her and her motivations, and now Eddie would turn up dead.

Eddie was dead, and Amy was trapped with his killer. The reality dealt a hard blow to Amy, who began to cry anew and turned her face away from Tom, kissing the baby to try to hide it. Meanwhile, Tom was busy unpacking her belongings from the baby’s crib, which he placed in a far corner of the flat. Women’s and toddler’s clothing, bottles, toys – all things Tom never expected to have in his home.

Having finished unpacking, Tom took it upon himself to enlarge his bed to accommodate both adults. It took up far too much space in the room now but it would have to suffice.

“Put the baby to bed and let’s try to get some sleep,” Tom directed, and Amy complied. Victor was falling asleep in Amy’s arms, and she was able to gently lower him back into his crib where he promptly fell asleep. Tom took the opportunity to cast a reverse silencing charm around the crib so that they would not disturb sleeping Victor, then he turned his attention towards Amy.

“There’s much to say – much to ask, but it’s late. Please, make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing towards the bed.

Such a gentleman after murdering my husband, Amy dared to think.

“Could I have a glass of water?” She asked shyly instead. Tom’s expression softened – the girl had been through a lot in the past few hours.

“Of course,” he said, summoning a glass and filling it with water using Aguamenti. Amy stared in awe. “This is safe to drink?” she asked.

Tom chuckled. “You’re going to have to get used to magic if you’re going to live with me.”

Amy managed a weak smile, but she drank the water and it tasted fine. As if I have a choice, she thought. Amy made a point of having a look around while Tom undressed down to his underwear – which is how he preferred to sleep. When Amy noticed him, she shuddered at the Adonis in front of her. Tom was still so beautiful – so perfect – but even more masculine than ever. He was definitely a man now.

Overwhelmed with guilt at finding the man who had just murdered her husband attractive, Amy placed the cup in the kitchen and climbed into the bed, as far to the side as possible, facing away from where Tom would be.

It didn’t escape Tom’s notice, but he decided to let her be for the time being. Sleep claimed him quickly despite the sniffling and weeping coming from Amy. It had been a long day.

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Tom was unpleasantly awoken by the sound of Victor fussing. Great, he thought. This is my life now. Next to him, Amy woke and, after getting her bearings for a few seconds, climbed over him and out of bed to tend to their son. She looked a mess – face puffy, eyes swollen and red. Tom imagined she must have been up most of the night crying. Pathetic.

“He’s hungry,” Amy offered, bouncing Victor. “Where should I…”

“Use whatever you need,” Tom said, still not fully awake. Inwardly, he groaned – a lot of changes were going to need to happen, beginning with his living space and furniture. Changes that would take more than his meager salary from Borgin & Burkes to come by.

Thinking of his employment, he instructed Amy to keep the baby quiet while he made a quick floo call to Mr. Burke to let him know he wasn’t well and needed the day off.

Once he got off the call, Amy was staring at him, her eyes full of tears. Not this again, he thought.

“What you have done?!” Amy shouted, walking towards Tom aggressively. It was kind of cute because she was so much smaller than him. Tom wasn’t afraid at all, moreso worried that Victor, who was crawling on the floor, might start screaming.

“What have you done, Tom?!” Amy wailed, banging on Tom’s chest with both fists. Tom allowed Amy to pound on him, scream and cry until she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Little Victor was looking concerned at seeing his mother in such a state, but was more curious about his surroundings. Amy was inconsolable as Tom knelt down to stroke her hair. “I righted a wrong,” he explained. Amy sobbed harder. “You didn’t belong with that man – neither of you.”

“Eddie was all we had, Tom! He loved us! He took me.. at my worst. No questions asked! You’ve ruined my life, Tom!”

Tom hissed at the repeated use of his Christian name, but he knew that Amy had good reason to be upset, so he decided to let it slide this time.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you sooner, Amy,” Tom said, projecting the utmost sincerity. “I’ll make amends for it, I promise. I will take care of you and Victor. I will love you.”

Amy laughed a tearful laugh before whispering “you can’t love us, Tom. Even if you want to. You’re not capable.”

This assertion angered Tom, who stood abruptly, dressed and left the apartment, leaving Amy to pout. He needed some time alone to think, and apparated to a spot in the Forbidden Forest where he’d enjoyed spending time during his school days. He was certain that Amy would not be foolish enough to wander outside at this stage, but he locked and warded the door behind him anyway.

Chapter Text

Tom paced in his favorite clearing in the Forbidden Forest, fuming. It was bad enough that he was now in custody of a muggle girl and a baby, but the way Amy had spoken to him had angered him. Tom wanted to punish her, but he knew he needed to take a step back to figure out what the hell he was doing rather than react blindly.

Love had killed his mother. It only made one weak. Silly emotional entanglements were not something Tom wanted to be a part of, even if he could – even with his own son. Yet, the idea that he was incapable of something – even something as tedious as love – did hurt his pride. But perhaps it would be easier to give Amy the impression that he did love her and Victor. At least to shut her up, for the love of Merlin.

Not capable. Ha!

No, let the girl think what she wanted. It was of no consequence to him. The priority now had to be to find a better arrangement for their small “family.” Tom did not have that situation figured out, but he knew he would not be able to bear staying in one room with Amy and the baby for very long. He had always needed his space.

Fortunately, there was some money from Mr. Richardson, and some belongings of value he could sell – a watch and a few other trinkets. It should be enough to let a bigger place. Tom would have to be more aggressive in order to make enough commission to support them going forward – and a little thievery on the side wouldn’t hurt either.

But for now, he needed to get some food in the house. With that, he disapparated to do some shopping.

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When he returned home, Amy was sitting on an armchair with Victor. She in no way acknowledged Tom’s presence – not looking at him nor responding when he said hello. Rolling his eyes, Tom went about putting away the groceries.

Two can play at this game, Tom decided, and went about his business as if Amy was not there – taking a shower and then reading in silence.

After Amy had put Victor down for a nap, Tom slammed the book he was reading shut and put up a silencing charm around the crib. “We need to talk,” he said, approaching Amy. Amy continued to ignore him. “You will look at your lord when he addresses you,” he hissed, and Amy, sensing his anger, acquiesced, but her facial expression was not a pleasant one.

“I know you are upset,” Tom continued, trying to seem empathetic, “but we are stuck with each other now, and we have got to find a way to make that work.”

“Gee, I wonder whose fault that is,” Amy said snidely. Tom grabbed her by the shoulders.

“It seems you have forgotten,” Tom glared down at the small muggle girl. “You belong to me. I was only taking what is mine.”

Amy pushed at Tom’s chest, gaining a few inches between them. “I moved on, Tom. You left me with a baby. You were gone for years.”

“It seems you are in need of a reminder of where things stand between us,” Tom said in a low voice. “Don’t make me punish you in front of the baby.”

Amy looked away, recalling previous torments that Tom had inflicted upon her. Tom killed like it was nothing. He had tortured her on multiple occasions. He wasn’t someone to get on the wrong side of. Amy swallowed thickly, deciding that she had better mind her words to stay on Tom’s good side. For better or worse, she was at his mercy now, as was her young son.

“Yes, Sir,” she said demurely.

Tom took a step forward, reaching out a hand to stroke Amy’s cheek. “It is good to have you back,” he said. Amy shivered at his touch. “I regret that I stayed away for so long, but I must admit, I thought you would have taken the easy way out.”

Against her conscience, Amy leaned into Tom’s hand. “I couldn’t,” she said quietly. “I was in love. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Tom smiled down at Amy, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m pleased that you chose me,” he said before leaning in to kiss her gently.

Amy felt immensely guilty to be kissing a man who was not only not her husband, but who had killed him, and yet she felt an intensity and passion behind the kiss that had been missing from her interactions with Eddie. Her relationship with Eddie had been affectionate more than passionate. She had loved him, but not been in love with him. He wasn’t an unattractive man, but Amy had never desired him that way she’d desired Tom.

Tom kissed Amy as if for the first time, slowly working his way inside her mouth, which she surrendered without a fight, allowing his tongue to explore every inch. Amy could feel her pussy throbbing and becoming wet as Tom began to stroke her body through her clothes. She moaned into Tom’s lips as he pressed his body against hers. “Mine,” he groaned, entangling a hand firmly in Amy’s hair and tilting her head back to mouth and nip at her neck, leaving marks.

“It’s been too long, my pet,” Tom whispered, guiding Amy towards the bed behind her. As her knees hit the side of the bed, Amy came to her senses. “Please, wait,” she said. “I’m.. I’m not ready for this.”

Tom chuckled, looking down at Amy. “Not.. ready?” he mocked, snaking his hand up Amy’s skirt and into her knickers. She squirmed to get away. “You seem very ready to me.”

“Please, Tom, my husband..”

“To hell with your husband,” Tom growled, pushing Amy back on the bed. “You belong to me and I will do with you as I please.”

Amy sobbed as Tom climbed on top of her and insinuated himself between her legs. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop him from taking what he wanted from her. “No, please,” she protested weakly, as Tom hiked up her skirt. Before she knew it, Tom was hovering over her, his hardness pressed against her pussy. “Yes, please,” he said with a smirk, before kissing Amy deeply while thrusting his erection against her over and over again through his trousers.

Amy couldn’t help it – she was becoming aroused by having Tom do this to her. She felt terrible that while her heart and mind said “no,” her body was screaming “yes.” Tears ran down the side of her face as it burned with shame.

“I need to be inside you,” Tom said in a husky voice, right into Amy’s ear. Amy shivered with anticipation and did nothing to hinder him as he reached down to undo his trousers and pull her knickers to the side. Tom pressed forward, his cock slipping into her wet cunt easily. “How I’ve missed this,” he hissed, thrusting in a shallow, teasing manner.  The thought of the baby sleeping nearby while Tom rutted his mother turned Tom on more than it had any right to. 

Amy couldn’t help but moan as Tom pumped in and out of her. She reached up to pull Tom closer to her, urging his hips forward. “Please,” she cried, as Tom continued to tease her with shallow thrusts in and out.

Tom gave her a sly smile. “Please what, darling?”

“Please fuck me, my Lord.”

“Yesss,” Tom groaned, beginning to fuck into Amy in earnest. “Merlin, your pussy still feels so good.”

Amy felt a strange bit of pride knowing that she was still able to please Tom sexually. Tom took hold of both her wrists, pinning them to the bed on each side of her head as he fucked her into the mattress. “My little muggle slut,” he hissed, and Amy felt her whole body flush at his nasty words. “Always remember you chose this. You chose me.”

Amy sobbed, feeling conflicted. She had never stopped loving Tom, desiring Tom, but Tom was a cold-blooded killer. Tom had manipulated her, tricked her into becoming pregnant, had kidnapped her and their child.. Now she was essentially his prisoner, yet she loved what he was doing to her.

“Would you like me to make you pregnant again?”

All Amy could do was moan. Her logical brain was once again saying “no,” but the idea seemed so sexy in the moment. Tom chuckled as his pace faltered. “Don’t worry,” he choked out. “I was only joking.”

Tom was approaching his orgasm, and began fucking Amy erratically. “I am going to pump this little cunt full of my cum though,” he growled before throwing his head back. “Take it! Oh, fuck!” he shouted, as he stilled deep inside of Amy. Panting, he hovered over her for a few moments, kissing her softly, before rolling off, his cock slipping out of her and leaving a trail of semen in its wake.

Tom took a few seconds to catch his breath, then waved his hand above Amy’s abdomen and said a few incantations. The sticky fluids between her legs disappeared, replaced by a cool and clean feeling, and he said something about “contraceptus,” which gave Amy a little peace of mind. There was no way she wanted to double down on her situation right now, and one toddler was enough.

Tom wrapped his arms around Amy as her stomach began to growl. “There’s food in the kitchen,” he said. “Will you make us something?”

Thus began the domestic life of Tom Riddle and Amy Richardson, formerly Benson.

Chapter Text

The next few days saw Tom, Amy, and Victor move from his efficiency flat to a small house. He had had to confund the landlord in order to obtain it, and it was in a less-than-desirable muggle neighborhood due to their financial constraints, but it served to keep the unconventional “family” away from prying eyes. Plus, the muggle amenities made Amy feel more comfortable.

They established a sort of routine, with Amy caring for Victor and the house while Tom worked long hours at Borgin & Burkes to try to make a little extra money. The girl was sullen and obviously unhappy but seemed resigned to her fate. They had an understanding that she should be ready to please Tom at any moment, and every evening she was either on her knees or back for him. Tom spent a lot of his downtime at work thinking about what was awaiting him at home – having to employ a glamour to conceal his erection multiple times each day.

Tom had also tasked Amy with reading books on the magical world and magical history. He figured that she should acclimate herself to his world in the hopes that one day she might be able to pass as a witch. In the meantime, he had devised a plan that would have her masquerade as his cousin who had found herself in dire straits. Since they did share many similar features, such as pale skin and dark hair, it would not be a hard sell – he just hoped there would never be any need for her to do magic in front of anyone.

One day Tom returned home to find Amy in a mood. “You will serve me any time I desire it,” he had said, and Amy knew better than to argue with him. Instead, she sank to her knees in front of the tall, handsome man, glaring up at him while she unbuttoned his trousers. Something was obviously amiss. Instead of risking her teeth on him while in this state, Tom placed his hand on her head to stop her in her tracks. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. Amy looked away, biting back tears. “They found him,” she whispered. “It’s in the papers. They’re looking for me.” Amy fell forward, clutching Tom’s trousers as she sobbed against him.

“There, there,” Tom said in a low voice. “It will all be alright.”

Amy looked furious. “It won’t be alright, Tom,” she snapped, staring at him accusingly. “Eddie is dead. You killed him. And here I am on my knees before you – his killer. This is all so wrong,” she cried.

Anger colored Tom’s features and he gave Amy a sharp smack across the face. “Your service is a gift from me,” he said. “You will do well to remember your place. I could just as easily kill you.”

Amy pulled away, crying, rubbing her arms in a self-soothing manner. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, not able to look at Tom.

Tom tried to swallow down his anger. “Pull yourself together,” he hissed, picking up a book and walking away.

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If dinner that evening was an awkward affair, bedtime was even worse. Amy hadn’t spoken a word since that one interaction just after he’d gotten home from work. Amy had put Victor to bed hours ago, and Tom decided enough was enough. “Come to bed,” he said curtly, and Amy complied, changing into her nightgown and getting under the covers of the bed they shared. As soon as Tom turned off the lights, he was on her. “Nothing has changed between us,” he whispered, kissing her neck while she lay there like a cold fish.

Amy turned her face away as Tom sucked and nipped down her neck while roughly kneading her breasts. Becoming frustrated by her behavior, Tom growled and sunk his teeth into the junction of her neck and shoulder.

Amy yelped and began pushing at Tom, who laughed and pinned her down by the wrists. “You belong to me,” he hissed, leaning forward to capture her lips in a kiss. Once again she turned her face away. Tom let go of her left wrist to grab her by the hair – hard – forcing her to look at him, tears welling in her eyes.

“Cry all you want,” he said in a low voice. Amy sobbed as Tom released her other wrist in order to hike up her nightdress and shove himself inside of her abruptly. Amy cried out as he forced his way inside of her. “Yes,” Tom groaned, beginning to pump in and out of Amy, who was struggling. “You are mine, Amy. Don’t fight it.”

Amy was crying in earnest, feeling completely helpless, as Tom conquered her body. She began to lubricate his entry and respond to his ministrations, and she hated herself even more for it.

“That’s my good little slut,” Tom ground out, fucking Amy mercilessly as she sobbed. “My personal. Muggle. Whore.”

Tom pounded into Amy like he was trying to destroy her with his cock. Amy knew she would be sore in the morning. “This is nothing,” he hissed. “If I wanted to hurt you, you would know it.”

Amy had a flashback to their time in the cave so many years before. “Please,” she cried, desperately needing this to be over. “Please, have mercy, my lord.”

Amy’s pleas went straight to Tom’s cock. “I’m going to come,” he said through gritted teeth. “--Fill my little whore.”

Amy felt a thrill go through her at Tom’s filthy words. Part of her wanted to please him – for him to ejaculate inside of her. Tom released his grip on Amy’s hair and began to kiss her deeply. She returned the kiss eagerly, pulling his hips towards her as if trying to get him in deeper.

Tom felt his orgasm coming, and wrapped a hand around Amy’s delicate throat, applying significant pressure. “I own you, do you understand?” he groaned, his hips stuttering as he chased completion. Amy desperately scrabbled at his fingers, trying to loosen his grip. He squeezed even tighter. “You’ll breathe when I say you can,” he said through gritted teeth. “Oh, Merlin!”

With that, Tom stilled deep inside Amy as he pumped her full of his cum. Finally, he relaxed his grip. Amy gasped, filling her lungs with precious oxygen, then coughing repeatedly as Tom rolled off of her. “Are you alright?” Tom asked, looking somewhat concerned.

Amy nodded, but in reality, she was deeply disturbed by having been choked the way Tom had. She had feared for a moment that he would indeed kill her. “Please don’t do that again,” she said in a quiet voice.

Tom chuckled. “When will you get it through that thick skull of yours? I do as I please.”

Amy swallowed and turned her face away as the tears flowed.

“Now stop sniveling. You’re not hurt,” Tom said, rolling over to go to sleep.

Chapter Text

The girl was miserable and Tom knew it. Not only was she stuck with a sadistic murderer, but Amy was now shut out of the muggle world and everyone else she’d ever known. Her misery followed her like a black cloud and was coloring every interaction – every moment that Tom spent at home. Aside from the general gloom, Amy would become visibly upset any time Victor asked for his father – and it enraged Tom that he considered his father to be Eddie. Of course, Tom was a newcomer – he was sure the boy would accept him as he grew older, but the current reality still stung.

In the meantime, the behavior of both mother and child were acutely annoying to Tom.  That’s why when Tom took ill a few days after their argument, he was not looking forward to being bedridden and confined to the house.

When Tom had first shown signs of being unwell, Amy immediately went into action to comfort and care for him – dabbing his forehead and neck with cold towels, feeding him, ensuring he was drinking enough fluids, checking on him at all hours. He was feverish for two days, during which Amy tended his every need without complaint. Tom felt suffocated to a degree, but it proved to him that deep down Amy still cared about him. He had not asked nor expected her to take care of him. In a feverish haze, Tom even once interpreted Amy leaning over him as an angelic apparition. “Shh,” she had whispered as he asked who she was. “It’s only me, Tom. You need to rest.”

Tom couldn’t bring himself to be angry at the use of his first name, though he knew in the back of his mind that he should be, he relaxed and allowed Amy to tend to him in his sickbed. Unfortunately, due to her being a wanted woman in the muggle world, and Tom being ill, Tom had had to send Amy out into the wizarding world in order to get groceries. Usually charms would have prevented her, but since Tom had already taken her and Victor out and introduced her to the clandestine magical areas of London, Amy was able to navigate Diagon Alley without an issue. She had been frightened, but was able to keep herself from being noticed. There are squibs in the wizarding world, after all, and on the outside they don’t look any different than capable witches and wizards. A trip to the market was fairly straightforward, however, the necessity of Amy’s trespass into magical London inspired Tom to hatch a new plan.

Tom returned to work as soon as possible after his recovery, not able to afford to miss any additional time from Borgin & Burkes, especially if he was to procure a proper wardrobe for Amy and Victor. In his downtime, he browsed the extensive selection of shop tomes as usual, but with a new purpose – rather than researching ways he could increase his power and ensure his immortality, Tom was preoccupied with a new area of magic – granting or gifting magic to another person, particularly a muggle.

Lord Voldemort had a reputation to maintain, and if it ever got out that he was involved with a muggle, much less that he had fathered a child with one, half or more of his followers would likely abandon him. He could not risk exposure at this stage of his rise to power. He was only just out of Hogwarts, and not yet the type of leader he ultimately yearned to become. Even the notion of his hapless “cousin” being a squib was suspect and would paint him in a bad light. It would simply not do.

The books at Borgin & Burkes, unfortunately, were not much help when it came to the idea of imbuing magic into another person. Maybe the Malfoy library, Tom mused.

Tom was lost in this train of thought when a well-to-do looking woman entered the shop wearing a unicorn hair and diricawl feather hat. He immediately plastered on a pleasant smile and turned on his typical charm. Female clients were always easy pickings -- eager to interact with the tall, dark, and handsome clerk. Tom did not know this woman, but she was not interested in buying.  Rather, she immediately approached him to sell several items of jewelry from what Tom did not doubt was an extravagant collection. Each piece had an enchantment to protect the wearer.

Using his purchasing authority, Tom bought the lot, sending the woman away with a hefty sum of money. On the books, however, when he recorded the purchase, he logged everything except a beautiful goblin silver bracelet, which he pocketed.

---------------------

Tom was smiling when he got home from work, and that made Amy very nervous. She was going about the business of making dinner for the two of them, having fed Victor already, when Tom approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I have something for you,” he hummed, and Amy turned to face him. “For me? What is it?” Her heart felt like it was pounding out of her chest as she had come to expect little but cruelty from Tom.

Tom retrieved the bracelet from his pocket, unclasping it while watching Amy’s face

“This is for me?” Amy said incredulously, in awe at the stunning piece of jewelry – an ornate silver band replete with emeralds and diamonds – as Tom secured it around her slender wrist. The bracelet immediately shrank to fit.

Tom nodded. “Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful lady,” he said, lifting Amy’s hand to place a quick kiss on it. Amy flushed and looked away, feeling conflicted about how elated she felt, and wondering when the other shoe would drop, so to speak.

“I’ve never had anything this nice,” she said, trying not to cry. Growing up poor and then in an orphanage, she had had very few possessions in general, and nothing of any real value. “Thank you, my lord.” Standing on her tiptoes, Amy gave Tom a peck on the cheek.

“My woman deserves the best,” Tom said sincerely. “I’ve been too harsh with you lately... And you’ve always been such a good girl for me.” The last part he said in a low voice, looking down at Amy with a predatory gleam in his eyes. Before Amy could process Tom’s semi-apology, he pulled her to him, holding her tightly while leaning in for a kiss. Amy relented right away, kissing him back, Tom’s tongue quickly gaining entry into her mouth.

Suddenly, Amy started. “Dinner is going to burn!” she yelped, fussing about the kitchen to remove things from the oven. Tom smiled half a smile. How did muggles ever manage?

Chapter Text

Amy seemed to perk up a bit after receiving Tom’s gift. Him having given her something so lovely and thoughtful made it easier for her to pretend that he might actually care about her, rather than see her as a possession or a slave. Knowing that the bracelet also contained enchantments to protect her, Amy felt more secure wandering about wizarding London with Victor, as she was powerless in a world full of people who could kill essentially with words alone – a reality Tom had ensured she had borne witness to.

Some days after presenting her with the bracelet, Tom had taken Amy and Victor to Madame Malkin’s to be fitted for robes. He had coached Amy on a backstory to stick with in case questions were asked – introducing her as his cousin, Amaranth Gaunt. Fortunately, if Madame Malkin had any inkling that something was off she did not show it – rather, she went about her business measuring and comparing fabrics. “Nice to see you with a young lady, Tom,” she had said, and Tom did not reply. In the end, Amy had a few sets of proper robes and a traditional hat, and Victor had several outfits and pairs of shoes that would grow with him over the next few years – which was typical for magical babies and toddlers. On their way home, they had even stopped at Florean Fortescue’s for ice cream. Victor and Amy had smiled brightly at the unexpected treat.

They were beginning to feel like a family of sorts, and Tom hoped it would last. In reality he knew that harmony would only exist so long as Amy’s emotions stayed under control, so he did little things here and there to appease her, while not compromising what he expected from the relationship.

“Relationship.” There was that word. But given that he and Amy lived together, slept together, and had a child together, how else could Tom classify it?

The Heir of Slytherin was in a relationship – with a muggle. Sweet Merlin.

This realization added urgency to Tom’s search for information on whether it was possible to imbue magic. He had begun to put tendrils out amongst his Knights for access to ancient family libraries. Abraxas Malfoy was the only one to deliver so far, divulging the existence of certain rare books at the Malfoy Manor library.

Abraxas was a loyal Knight – part of Tom’s inner circle – and probably the closest thing he had to an actual friend. They had been close (by Tom’s standards) during their school years. Abraxas was a few years older but still saw the potential in Tom – being one of the first to accept him as a leader and to call him “Lord.” Tom felt he could be trusted, so he gave him the story of an unfortunate squib cousin. Abraxas had thought there was probably more to the story, being shocked that Tom would admit to having a squib as a relative of any degree, yet he had still spent countless hours in his family’s library researching the topic and had set aside a number of books that seemed promising. Once his search was complete, Abraxas stopped by Borgin & Burkes to let Tom know about the availability of the books, and to invite him and his “cousin” over for dinner.

Tom was taken aback, not sure about introducing Amy – “Amaranth” – to anyone who really knew him, much less his inner circle, but he definitely did not want to give the impression that anything was amiss, so he accepted the invitation.

When he told Amy about their dinner plans, she was very apprehensive. “Is he like you?” she asked. “Will they be able to tell I’m not one of them?”

“No,” Tom answered. “I’ve already told him you’re a squib – that’s a person from a magical family without magical talent. The key thing to remember is your pseudonym and the fact that you are my cousin.”

“Does he know about Victor?”

Tom stood silent for a moment. “He doesn’t know about Victor,” he said. “I’d like you to keep it that way.” Amy nodded, feeling a little sad that Tom considered her and their baby a bit of a dirty secret.

---------------

The day of their visit to Malfoy Manor, Tom reviewed with Amy everything she was supposed to say – and, more importantly, not say – and do that evening. Amy was very nervous, and decided the best course of action would be to try to talk as little and to draw as little attention to herself as possible. After leaving Victor with an elderly neighbor, Amy donned black dress robes that were flattering but modest and put her hair half up, adding a little bit of a color to her lips like she knew Tom liked, even if he thought it was not practical. Of course, she was also wearing the magnificent bracelet that Tom had given her – giving credence to the claim that she was a member of a prominent pureblood family. She looked every part the witch.

Amy smiled at herself in the mirror, feeling confident for the first time since Tom had barged back into her life. Tom looked dashing as well, wearing his best trousers and vest over a white collared shirt, with a black velvet cape over it all. The cape made Amy think of a matador, and she nearly giggled before catching herself. “Something funny?” Tom said, cocking an eyebrow. Amy pulled herself together quickly. “Nothing, my Lord. I’m ready,” she said, trying to change the topic. With that, Tom offered her his arm, which she took gingerly, steeling herself for the unpleasant sensation of apparition. Within moments, they had arrived at the gates of an enormous manor with meticulously-kept gardens. Amy was in awe not only at her surroundings but at the gorgeous white peacocks that appeared to have free range of the premises.

Suddenly, a voice echoed across the courtyard. “Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” it said, as a handsome man with striking blonde hair stepped out to greet them. Amy inclined her head as Tom had taught her, and allowed the man to take her hand and kiss it. “I am Abraxas Malfoy,” he stated. “And you must be Amaranth. Tom didn’t tell me that his cousin was such a beauty.”

Amy flushed at the compliment, looking to Tom to assess his reaction. His expression was blank, but Amy thought he must not be pleased at the use of his first name nor with Mr. Malfoy flirting with her. “Amy, please,” she said meekly.

“Very pleased to meet you,” their host said. He stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter the manor, “please, come in. Make yourselves at home.”

After a house elf (Amy nearly screamed, never having seen such a creature) took their cloaks, Abraxas gave Amy and Tom a brief tour of the manor – of course, this was for Amy’s benefit as Tom had been there many times before. Abraxas, as the heir of the Malfoy line, was overseeing the manor in the absence of his parents, who were spending time abroad.

“My library is at your disposal,” he offered to Tom, indicating the books he had set aside on a table. “Please feel free to borrow whatever you like, or spend as much time here as you like. After dinner, of course.”

Abraxas lead the pair to a sitting room. Ever the gracious host, he offered both wine – a fine vintage. Amy looked to Tom, who nodded, and accepted a glass. She had actually never had wine before, and she didn’t care for it all that much, but it did make her feel a bit more relaxed. This seemed to please her host, who repeatedly tried to engage her in conversation. “Tom tells me you are new to the area,” Abraxas said, gesturing towards Tom, who was looking away disinterestedly and swirling his glass. “What brings you to our part of the world?”

This was the first time Amy would have to directly lie to someone about her situation. “Oh, my husband died, and Tom was kind enough to take us in,” she said, not realizing her mistake until it was too late. “Us?” Malfoy asked, looking confused.

Amy looked to Tom, who gave her a pointed look. “Me and.. my son,” she admitted. Abraxas nodded. “I see. Tom mentioned you were having some trouble. Typical Tom,” he grinned. “Nothing could keep that man from helping someone in need,” he chuckled.

Tom nearly choked on his wine. “Abraxas,” he warned. He knew that his closest comrade had figured something was afoot, as Tom’s behavior was almost always the exact opposite of what he had said, but Tom didn’t believe Abraxas would press the issue, at least not in front of Amy. And he definitely knew better than to bring up the question of her lack of magic.

A house elf apparated into the room, startling Amy. “Dinner is served,” he said with a bow, before disappearing with a crack. Abraxas rose. “My lady,” he said, offering Amy his hand, which she took, and leading her to the dining room. A little bit tipsy, Amy giggled, never having been treated so formally or with such grace. She was further impressed when they arrived at the table and Mr. Malfoy pulled her chair out for her. He had sat her directly to his right, while Tom was seated across from them.

“Watch yourself,” Tom said in Amy’s mind. “He is up to something.”

Dinner proceeded more or less without incident, although it seemed that Abraxas took every opportunity to flatter, compliment, or touch Amy. She had to admit she was enjoying the attention – Mr. Malfoy was very handsome, and seemed quite nice. She could tell that Tom was not happy about the situation, but he had introduced her as a relation and not a romantic interest, and had not staked any kind of claim on her.  It was obvious that Abraxas thought highly of Tom but that he was not particularly afraid of him.

Tom, on the other hand, was bothered enough by Abraxas’ behavior and how receptive Amy seemed to be to it that he did not want to risk leaving them alone while he went to the library. “About the books,” he said after dessert was finished, “I will return for them another time.”

He then stood, stretching his long limbs, making a show of being tired. “It’s late,” he said, looking at Amy. “We need to get home. Can’t leave the baby with the neighbors too long, can we?”

Amy took the hint, and rose as well. “No, we cannot.” She turned to Abraxas. “I had a lovely evening. Thank you very much for your hospitality, Mr. Malfoy.”

Abraxas gave her a knowing smile. “Any time,” he said. “I should like to have you both here for Christmas, if you are able.” Amy looked to Tom, who indicated his assent before summoning their cloaks.

“I will owl you about a time to retrieve the books,” he said, taking hold of Amy’s hand and apparating her to the safety of their own home.

Once the two had left, Abraxas grinned.  "Squib cousin, hm?" he mused.

Chapter Text

Tom was furious. “You said too much,” he growled, gripping Amy’s arm tightly as soon as they arrived back home. “And you let him.. he was practically all over you!”

Amy shrunk back. She had rarely seen Tom quite so angry. She had expected him to be upset with her, but he seemed extremely jealous. “I.. I have to get Victor,” she stammered, pulling her arm away and running out the front door. Tom let her leave, knowing she was right – the child had been with the neighbor for too long already. It wouldn’t do for him to overstay his welcome. They would need her help again in the future. But this discussion was not over and matters were far from settled.

When she returned holding Victor, Tom was nowhere to be found. Amy had an uneasy feeling the rest of the evening while she put Victor to bed and got ready for bed herself. Tom still had not returned home by the time she went to sleep, and Amy drifted off despite the racing of her heart.

She woke with a start in the middle of the night, not able to breathe. A heavy weight was pressing down on her back. Before she could scream, a hand clamped over her mouth. “Hello, whore.” It was Tom. He had come home and was apparently sitting on her. What was he doing?

Amy’s heart was pounding as Tom straddled her hips before getting a firm grip on her hair close to the scalp. He loved to do that because it allowed him to control her head. “If you want to act like a slut,” he growled, unbuckling his belt, “then I’ll treat you like one.”

Before she understood what was happening, Tom had yanked Amy’s nightdress up, knickers down, and impaled himself deep inside her from behind. She wasn’t ready and she yelped as he took her dry. “The only person you should be acting like a whore for is me,” he hissed, fucking her violently.

“Please, it hurts!” Amy cried out.

“Good,” Tom groaned into Amy’s ear. “Hurting you, making you afraid.. It feels good.”

Amy began to cry, tears streaming down her face as Tom ruthlessly fucked her raw cunt.

“It pleases me,” he said. “Don’t you want to please your lord?”

Tom jerked Amy’s head up by the hair. She took that as encouragement to reply. “Yes!” she sobbed. “Please! I’m sorry!”

Tom laughed a deep, terrifying laugh. “Cry, Amy. Beg me to stop. Tell me how much it hurts,” he spat.

Amy wept. Her cunt had become wet to accommodate Tom, but she still did not enjoy him taking his rage out on her. Her scalp and pussy were both sore and throbbing and not in a pleasant way.

“It hurts,” she whimpered, and Tom thrust even deeper. “All the better. That’s my good slut. I knew you would love this,” the man on top of her hissed as he took his pleasure from her body mercilessly.

Amy didn’t love it – not at all. Did she? She did stick around. She did care about Tom. Love him, even. Maybe part of her did enjoy being treated this way. She sobbed at the thought, trying to get lost in her own head while Tom abused her body. She needed this to be over, and prayed that he would finish soon.

Above her, Tom was panting as he pounded Amy like his life depended on it. “Mine!” he exclaimed as he emptied himself deep inside Amy. After he came, his entire body relaxed, his grip on Amy’s scalp loosened, and he slumped forward to nuzzle her neck. “My good girl,” he groaned. “Always so good for me.”

Amy wept quietly while Tom made himself comfortable next to her, his arm draped across her back, shushing her as she sobbed. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Didn’t you fantasize about me doing that all the time back at Wool’s?”

The realization dawned on Amy – she had. Having Tom force himself on her in bed had been her predominant fantasy that summer. Amy’s face burned with shame. Had she invited Tom to do this to her? Given him the idea?

Tom could feel the despair radiating off of Amy. He had taken his jealous rage out on her, put her in her place, and the anger had left his heart. Gently, he gathered the sobbing girl into his arms, tucking her head in against him. “Shh,” he whispered, stroking Amy’s hair. “I see now that was too rough for you. Let me make it better.” With a wave of his hand, he cast some minor healing charms on Amy, who felt the aches and pains dissipate immediately. Amy’s tears dried up as she pressed her face into Tom’s chest. “I love you,” she said quietly. Tom pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I know.”

Chapter Text

“What aren’t you telling me, Tom?” Abraxas asked when Tom stopped by to visit his library later that week.

Tom shot the blonde a look. “I think you know better than to refer to me that way in private, Abraxas.”

Abraxas bowed slightly. “Apologies, my lord. But the girl – she’s more to you than a cousin, isn’t she?”

Tom paused for a moment, considering his response. He could lie to Abraxas, but his closest friend knew him too well. He could offer a non-answer, which would be as good as an answer. Or he could tell him the truth. He could always obliviate him if it was necessary.

Sensing Tom’s reticence, Abraxas continued. “I checked the ministry records. There is no mention of an Amaranth in the Gaunt family.”

Tom sighed and rubbed his furrowed brow. “You must swear to me that you will repeat this to no one,” he said, but he knew if there was anyone he could confide in, it was Abraxas. Despite his family’s strong blood purist leanings, Abraxas had not wavered when he had discovered Tom’s own status as a half-blood.

“I’ve known Amaranth – Amy – since I was ten years old. We grew up in the orphanage together.”

“So then she’s--,” Abraxas started.

“Yes.”

Tom looked at Abraxas appraisingly. Where he expected disgust, he found only surprise. “And the child?” he deigned to ask.

“My child will doubtless become a powerful wizard,” Tom said nonchalantly, as if everything were just as it should be.

Abraxas kept his silence for some time, not sure how to react in a way that would not raise Tom’s ire. Finally, he settled on “Understood.”

Tom relaxed a little and continued examining the books that Abraxas had set aside for him.

“The books, then,” Abraxas hummed more to himself than to Tom.

Clever man. He had figured it all out.

“Will you assist me?” Tom asked, before adding “if necessary.”

Abraxas nodded. “Anything for you, my lord.”

_____________

Tom had been more gentle with Amy since that night, and especially since he let Abraxas in on his little secret. It was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders now that someone knew.  Amy, on the other hand, had been careful to keep herself distracted so as not to allow herself to fall back into a depression. She and Victor were out and about on the regular as Amy acclimated herself more and more to the wizarding world at large.

Tom had warned Amy about Knockturn Alley, but not outright forbade her from going there, and Amy, curious to see where Tom worked, decided to surprise him at Borgin & Burkes one day. As she entered through the groaning front door, Victor in tow, Tom was delighted, but as his employer was hovering just beyond him in the back of the store, he decided to play it cool. “Welcome to Borgin & Burkes,” he said to Amy. “How can I help you today?”

“Oh,” Amy said, momentarily taken aback by Tom’s act, but she decided it was best to play along with it. “I’m only looking. Is there anything here appropriate for a young child?”

“Why, yes,” Tom said, stepping out from behind the counter to bring Amy to the section of the store that catered more towards women and children. “As you can see, we have a wide selection of items that may be of interest. Most are enchanted with defensive or entertainment spells of one sort or another.”

“Children’s items don’t quite seem to mesh with the rest of your store,” Amy said, noting the dark overtones of the shop, and macabre nature of many of the items therein. Tom smiled. “I understand how one could get that impression, but our clients come to us with a wide variety of items that they wish to sell. Many of these objects have their origins with Sacred 28 families.”

“Interesting,” Amy said, without having any idea what “Sacred 28” meant, nor that she was meant to be from one such family.

Curiosity sated, and definitely not prepared to actually buy anything, Amy thanked Tom and escorted Victor back to his carriage which she’d left outside the front door. Just as she was placing him inside, a familiar voice called out to her.

“Good afternoon, Amy,” Abraxas Malfoy said, stepping out of the shadows. “Fancy seeing you again so soon.”

“Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy,” Amy replied, inclining her head as Abraxas stepped towards her.

“I’m a little surprised to see you in this part of town,” he grinned. “And to bring your baby. Very bold indeed.”

Amy was not sure how to reply, not entirely certain where Abraxas was headed with this conversation.

“I thought it was about time I saw where T-- my cousin -- works.”

“Of course,” Abraxas nodded. “I’m sure he was quite glad to see you. Such a radiant beauty.”

Amy flushed. “You flatter,” she said, looking away. “And, please, don’t let him hear you talking like that..”

“Didn’t appreciate it last time, did he?” Abraxas asked rhetorically, cocking an eyebrow, before taking a few steps forward. Amy’s failure to meet his gaze told him all he needed to know. “I can only.. imagine.. what he did to you that night. Oh, to be a fly on that wall,” he said in a low voice, stroking her cheek with a gloved finger. Amy felt herself growing hot, while simultaneously experiencing outrage at the man’s insinuation that he would have enjoyed watching Tom abuse her. She needed to get away from him, and quickly.

Dropping into an abbreviated curtsy, Amy stammered an excuse before pushing Victor’s carriage back to the safety of Diagon Alley as fast she could without drawing additional attention to herself.

Abraxas grinned mischievously at the girl’s back as she made her escape, before entering Borgin & Burkes to face a glowering Tom Riddle.

Chapter Text

Tom was no stranger to dark and experimental magic – by the age of 20, he had already created several horcruxes, requiring the deaths of multiple people, and he’d killed more besides – but this would be his first foray into attempting to transfer magic.  It was not something that had been successfully documented often - one or two times at most, but Tom had ideas on how to ensure that the rite would be successful.  If it went wrong, he may lose Amy entirely, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

He had not told Amy what they were planning. Part of him was certain she would object if she knew what it would entail. As the saying goes, it is easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. Besides, Amy was his, and he would do with her as he pleased.  As far as Tom was concerned, Amy remaining a muggle was not an option if they were going to have any future together.

Tom had tasked Abraxas with finding a magical vagrant – someone no one would miss -- to take the magic from. Abraxas assigned the task to one of his underlings, who procured a haggard-looking witch from Knockturn Alley. The witch’s mind was addled, and she was probably addicted to various potions, so Abraxas felt they would be showing her mercy by ending her miserable life.

Once all was arranged, Tom brought Amy to Malfoy Manor. He had warned her in advance that she would be part of a ritual, and to cooperate and follow their instructions to the letter and without question.  Amy knew better than to protest, fearing Tom’s wrath, but was incredibly nervous.

When Amy entered the dungeons where the witch was being kept, she gasped. The strange witch was bound to a chair and gagged, her eyes pleading. “Why is she here?” she asked, looking at Tom.

“She’s your donor. We are going to give you her magic.”

Amy didn’t know what to say. She had no idea such a thing was possible. Would it hurt the witch to give her magic over? It didn’t seem like this was consensual.

“I’ll have no part in this,” she said defiantly, come what may.

“If you think you have a choice, you are mistaken,” Tom hissed, before turning towards Abraxas. “Let us begin.”

Abraxas approached Amy, who shied away. “It’s up to you, dear. We can take blood or we can take.. something else," he said, eyeing her lasciviously.  Truth be told, they could have used hair or saliva as well, but the men had agreed it would be much more fun this way.

Being terrified of blood, Amy chose the latter option, causing Abraxas to grin broadly. “I was hoping you would choose that,” he said, taking a step forward. Amy was soon pressed against the cold stone wall of the dungeons, as Tom and Abraxas both encroached upon her personal space. Slowly, they began touching her all over. “Oh, Amy,” Abraxas said, “what would you think about two handsome and powerful wizards taking you at the same time, hmm?”

Amy suppressed a groan as he continued, whispering close to her ear. “One using that pretty little mouth, the other between your legs,” he purred, running his thumb over Amy’s parted lips, her pupils blown wide with lust. She couldn’t help but moan as he pressed his body against hers, while Tom held her to him, grinding his erection against her ass and kissing and sucking on her neck.

Tom moved one hand to knead Amy's breast while he slipped an elegant finger up under Amy’s skirt and into her knickers. “A good start,” he said, “but not enough.”

“Would you allow me, my lord?” the handsome blonde man asked Tom, stroking Amy’s face. Tom felt his cock pulse. “Do it,” he hissed, pulling Amy’s head back by the scalp, forcing her to look up at Abraxas. She whimpered – out of fear or need she was not sure – as Abraxas leaned forward to capture her lips, kissing her sensually. She wrapped her arms around him as he began to kiss her more deeply, his tongue questing for dominance in her mouth as he urged her to stroke his cock through his trousers.

Stepping back, Abraxas coaxed Amy to her knees, and Tom let her go. Down she went, until she hit the floor. The two wizards towering over her, eyes full of desire, sent a thrill through Amy, who felt like a helpless mooncalf facing a pack of wolves. Both men began to unbutton their trousers, and Amy gasped as Abraxas produced his aching organ. It was less thick than Tom’s but longer, and very attractive. He presented it to her as if it were a gift. Looking to Tom for direction, Amy noticed he was stroking his cock. “My lord?” she asked, unsure of what to do. Would Tom punish her if she was too eager with Abraxas?

“Please him with your mouth,” Tom ordered in a low voice, eyes flashing red. The bound witch in the corner made some muffled noises, and Amy remembered her existence for a split second, a little ashamed of the show she was putting on. I can’t help you. I’m sorry, she thought, before taking hold of Abraxas’ cock in one small hand, leaning forward to lick the head.

“Oh,” Abraxas groaned, pressing his cock forward to encourage more contact. Amy opened her mouth wider to take him inside, her little pink tongue swirling around the weeping head. “That’s a good little muggle slut.”

Amy felt her pussy contract around nothing at Abraxas’ dirty words, the very thought of bringing him off with her mouth turning her on. She knew how wet she always became when she sucked Tom off, and could feel the acute throbbing between her legs as she sucked and licked at Abraxas’ stiff organ.

“I see now why you keep this one around, Tom. Merlin!” Abraxas said, thrusting his hips forward to get deeper down Amy’s throat.

“That’s it..,” Tom growled, stroking himself faster. “Suck that pureblood cock, you filthy little muggle whore.” Abraxas moaned as Amy began to work his cock even faster.

Tom got himself into position right beside Abraxas, his hand flying up and down his cock. “Yes!” he exclaimed before coating Amy’s face with his semen. She closed her eyes tightly, not enjoying having the nasty stuff on her face at all, but diligently continued trying to bring Abraxas off. Abraxas’ eyes were wide as he stared down at the girl, face and hair covered with Tom’s cum, as his balls tightened. With a hard thrust, Abraxas impaled himself deeply down Amy’s throat and released his load there, before slowly withdrawing his cock from Amy’s mouth. Amy sucked and licked him clean as she had been well-trained to do.

“Gods,” Abraxas choked out. “What an amazing little mouth she’s got on her, Tom.”

Tom cast Evanesco on Amy’s face before helping her to her feet. Reaching down between her legs with a vial, he collected the copious fluid he found there. He took a few additional moments to circle her clit with his fingers and Amy pressed her pussy into his hand, desperate for more contact. “Maybe later, love,” Tom chuckled.

Tom stepped over to a cauldron that Amy hadn't noticed before.  It was bubbling with viscous blue liquid.  Tom emptied the contents of the vial into it slowly while stirring.

Seconds later, Tom approached the bound witch, who was writhing in her bonds.  Amy saw a bright green flash as Tom shouted “Avada Kedavra!” Memories of Eddie falling backwards onto the bed came rushing in as Amy witnessed the unnamed witch slump forward, lifeless.

“No!” she sobbed. Tom had killed for her – again. She didn’t like this, not at all.

“You will thank me when this is through,” Tom said, using his wand to draw out what looked like a golden string from the deceased witch. “Ex Unum Alterum Datum,” he recited over and over again, while directing his wand towards the cauldron.  The potion absorbed the substance, bubbling intensely.   Tom then ladeled the resulting mixture into a goblet and handed it to Amy.  "Drink," he commanded. Amy drank, and it was the worst thing she'd ever tasted in her life, but she was distracted from the bad taste by a surge she felt go through her body. She nearly lost consciousness at the intense feeling of magic coiling through her, and eventually spreading out to her extremities before settling into her very bones.

Tom smiled at Amy, then at Abraxas, before handing Amy an ornate wand crafted of a dark wood. “Give it a try,” he said. “This is her wand. You have her magic, so the wand should be a perfect match.”

Amy felt like she would be sick, but did as Tom said – taking hold of the dead witch’s wand, before flicking it like she had seen Tom do many times. Some chains rattled as her cast struck them. “Did I do that?” she asked incredulously. Tom grinned from ear to ear. “It worked!” he said gleefully, resisting the urge to hug Amy. “Congratulations, Amy. You are now a witch.”

Chapter Text

Despite having spent some time in the wizarding world already, Amy really didn’t know the first thing about being a witch. Tom had never asked her if she wanted to become one – but now that she was one, she figured she might as well make the best of a bad situation. She would have to learn from the very basics, which Tom promised he would teach her – eventually. She kept the dead witch’s wand close, but shuddered every time she touched it – the events of that evening replaying again and again in her mind. She had to learn to control her emotions as her magic seemed to act out around her when she was upset – making things go flying and explode.

Tom had barely stopped smiling ever since the ritual. Amy surmised that not only was he pleased that it had worked and she was now magical, but that he was very satisfied with himself for performing such a rare feat of magic.

Part of Amy did hope that Tom’s treatment of her would improve now that things were a little more even. Feeling more empowered and more secure as a witch, she took Victor out of the house more often. One day she even deigned to leave Victor with Tom while she went around Diagon Alley alone.

Tom was better with his son than Amy had expected him to be. He was neither cruel nor cold with him, although one could hardly call him a doting father, he did not hesitate to do what needed to be done. Amy was definitely the primary caretaker, but Tom would occasionally feed and bathe Victor. He drew the line at changing diapers though, but he could do a good enough job with magic. 

On the evening where Amy had left Tom to “babysit” his own son, Amy stopped by Tresses & Fancies, a magical beauty salon and boutique. She needed a trim and wanted to see what magic could do with her hair that was often difficult to manage. She settled on a volume charm and clean up of her ends, which didn’t take long at all. The hairdresser styled her in an elegant up do a la mode before she left, and Amy couldn’t wait to get home to show Tom.

As she was leaving the premises, Amy stopped to fix a shoelace. “Still doing things the muggle way, I see,” a masculine voice drawled. Amy looked up to see Abraxas Malfoy looming over her. “Old habits die hard,” she offered, inclining her head towards the man minutely, but unable to maintain eye contact.  Amy flushed as she remembered the last time she had been on her knees before this man.

Abraxas gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “One would hope that you would show more appreciation for the gift you have been given.” Stepping forward and into Amy’s personal space, he raised a finger to stroke her face. “You look lovely tonight,” he whispered. Amy felt herself shiver at his proximity.

The older man took a step back and cleared his throat. “Has your.. has Tom told you about the agreement that he and I reached?”

This was the first Amy was hearing about an agreement. “What kind of agreement?” she asked, confused. Did it have to do with her?

“You will have to ask him about it,” Abraxas said, tipping his hat in her direction. “Good evening, my lady.”

When Amy arrived home, Tom was more than ready to hand Victor over. “You've done something with your hair,” he said, looking at Amy appraisingly. "It looks nice."

“Thank you,” Amy said shyly, before starting Victor’s nighttime routine. “You know, I ran into Abraxas on my way home.”

“Oh?” Tom asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes, he told me to ask you something about an.  arrangement? An agreement?”

Tom scowled. He knew Amy would not like this. “Did he now,” he said, as if there wasn’t a question to be answered.

“Well?” Amy said, impatiently.

Tom hissed. “Watch yourself, young lady.”

“You’re being so secretive. What’s the agreement? Does it concern me?”

Tom sighed, deciding that it would come out eventually and he may as well tell her. “As you know, your magic came at a high price,” he began. Amy nodded grimly. “As a reward for his assistance with the ritual, I agreed that Abraxas could make use of you.”

Amy’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean, make use of me?”

Tom grinned. “I think you know very well what I mean.”

Amy felt ill, her heart pounding a mile a minute. Tom approached her from behind, wrapping his arms around her. “It won’t be so bad, hmm?” he purred. “You seemed to really enjoy his.. attentions.. before, my little harlot.”

All the blood had drained from Amy’s already-pale face. She had been bartered like she was not even a person. Tom had arranged the magic transfer without her knowledge or permission, and facilitated it with what was essentially her rape. It was too much.

“You can’t do this to me,” she cried. “I’m a witch now, remember? You saw to it.”

Tom chuckled, pulling Amy tightly to him. “You may be a witch,” he snarled, “but you are the lowest of the low. The very bottom of the barrel. You’re worse than any mudblood.”

Amy swallowed, feeling tears begin to accumulate in her eyes. “But you’re mine. My witch,” he continued, pressing his erection against Amy’s back. She shivered and felt a pulsing between her legs, flying in the face of her conscience.

“My witch to do with as I please.” With that, Tom spun Amy to face him, his hands roaming up her sides. “Put the baby to sleep then come to bed,” he commanded, and Amy complied, ultimately standing awkwardly in the doorway of their bedroom with her hands folded in front of her, waiting for Tom to address her.

“Good little witch,” he hissed, making sure he had Amy’s full attention as he slowly and deliberately unbuckled his belt. Amy found herself becoming aroused just by watching that one action. Without needing to be told, she sank to her knees. Tom reached down and loosened her hair from its pins, allowing it to spill out over her shoulders the way he preferred it. The way Amy was looking at him – it was just like things had been that summer at Wool’s.  Tom was very pleased. 

The wizard produced his stiff sex organ, directing it towards Amy. “Open wide for me, little witch,” he said in a low voice, before pressing his cock slowly past Amy’s lips. He hissed as Amy began licking and sucking, taking his cock in deeper. “Good gods,” he groaned, canting his hips forward as Amy worked his cock up and down.

“That’s it. That’s my good little slut.” Amy moaned around his swollen organ, feeling herself becoming extremely wet. “So good at pleasing your lord and master.”

Amy couldn’t help it. She loved it when Tom said dirty and nasty things to her. She couldn’t get enough of it. Suddenly, Tom ripped his cock away from her. “Bend over the bed,” he growled, wanting to try something different. Amy was very ready for him when he pushed inside, and she yelped at how deep he was able to get from this position. “That’s my filthy. little. mudblood. witch,” Tom hissed through gritted teeth.

Tom took a fistful of Amy's hair, pulling her upper body up a little bit off the bed while he slammed into her.  Amy grimaced as her body was contorted as if she were a puppet in Tom's grasp.  It hurt every time Tom hit her cervix, which he was doing a lot more than usual due to the position, but at the same time, the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against her clit felt amazing.  She was torn between pain and pleasure as Tom took out his lust on her body.

Fucking this way was psychologically intense. Sex in general struck Tom as very base, although he certainly enjoyed it -- but taking Amy from behind seemed even more filthy and animalistic. Tom let out something akin to a howl as he bottomed out in Amy and pumped her full of his potent seed.

Collapsing on top of her, Tom continued to thrust into Amy as his erection softened inside. Kissing her hair, neck, and ear, Tom hummed his approval. “That’s my sweet little witch.” Amy’s heart swelled as Tom took her in his arms and held her close. For a moment, she almost felt loved and could forget all the terrible things Tom had done.

Chapter Text

Amy was frustrated. Since becoming a witch, and at a very high price indeed, she had learned exactly zero magic. In the past few weeks, Tom had not even bothered to teach her the very basics. She was beginning to think that Tom wanted her to be a witch-in-name-only – someone technically capable of doing magic but essentially as powerless as their young son.

She asked Tom on the daily when he would start teaching her magic, and he always offered the excuse of being busy with work – adding that he had to work long hours to support her and Victor in an attempt to make her feel guilty for asking. Tom kept referring her to his old school books, which she had read cover to cover already.  Amy just couldn’t learn that way – she needed someone to teach her properly. All she had managed on her own so far was a weak Lumos. She couldn’t do a basic summoning or levitation charm and still felt powerless out in the wizarding world.

In reality, Tom could have found the time to teach Amy if he had wanted to – he spent many additional hours at Borgin & Burkes just reading books on dark magic in peace away from a screaming toddler. The main hold up was his complete lack of patience and interest. He simply did not want to teach Amy because it served no purpose to him. He was satisfied enough that she was no longer a muggle even if she couldn’t properly do magic, but Amy’s pestering was becoming tiresome, so Tom came up with a solution that would work for both of them.

Abraxas would tutor her, starting immediately. That would give Abraxas the impression that Tom was upholding his end of their bargain as well as shut Amy up. Further, as the Malfoy heir, he had no need to work, and was always looking for diversions to fill his time, so it was a win/win all around.

When informed that she would attend lessons at Malfoy Manor, Amy became extremely anxious. She desperately wanted to learn magic, but she was terrified that Abraxas would take the opportunity to “make use of” her. Although captivated by his beauty and grace, part of Amy was afraid of Abraxas, and certainly afraid to be alone with him.

But needs must. Amy was resolved to learn to do at least basic magic, hoping that she would be able to apparate and even ride on a broom one day. The last thing she wanted was for the vagrant witch’s sacrifice to be in vain. It already ate at her that her magic was stolen and had cost someone their life, even if it wasn’t actually her fault or doing. Still, she agreed to proceed with the lessons rather than be helpless forever.

-----------------

The day of her first lesson, Amy was sure to dress as plainly and modestly as possible – not wanting to attract attention from Abraxas. She dropped Victor off with the neighbor then met Abraxas at the designated time by the fountain in Diagon Alley. The blonde man was already there, wearing a billowing black cloak with matching hat. Amy felt herself blush as she remembered the agreement he had made with Tom without her input. She swallowed down her anxiety as she approached, immediately catching the eye of Abraxas, who broke into a sort of bow.

“Amy,” he said. “Good to see you again. May I?” The handsome man offered her his arm, and Amy felt rather unworthy to be touching such fine fabrics. Having taken his arm, Amy looked up at the tall wizard with a curious expression before they disapparated from London and were standing inside a grand marble hall.

“I’m pleased to have you back at Malfoy Manor,” Abraxas said, handing his cloak to a house elf. “Would you care for some tea?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” Amy said bashfully, looking around the impressive room.

“Eager to get started, are we?” Abraxas chortled, and Amy flushed in embarrassment, thinking he may not be talking about only her lessons.

“Come,” the man said, and led Amy to another wing of the house where she found a room full of odds and ends, many smashed to smithereens. “This is a practice room where I learned to cast in my youth. I’m not attached to anything in here, so you have the freedom to wield magic as you see fit.”

“First, let us start with a basic summoning charm. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Do you know the incantation?”

“Accio,” Amy answered, pleased with herself for remembering something from her books.

“Very good,” Abraxas said. “Watch me as I perform the wand movement.” With a pointed jab followed by a swoosh, he gracefully summoned a small orb from across the room.

“Now you try,” he said, taking a step back, and watching Amy who tried to reproduce his wand movements and incantation. Nothing happened. “Hmm,” said Abraxas, “not quite.” He got close to Amy, wrapping his large hand around her much smaller one to guide her wand in the precise movement. “Concentrate now,” he whispered, executing the movement. Despite being terribly distracted by how very close he was – so close she could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of his body – Amy shouted “Accio!” at the right time, and summoned a broken vase which she caught with her other hand.

“Very good,” Abraxas purred, taking a step back. He watched as Amy summoned object after object from across the room before assuring Amy that she had the hang of it. The girl beamed with pride, having mastered her very first spell. Abraxas smiled down at her, appreciating the sparkle in her eye.

“How about one more?” he offered, taking hold of Amy again to guide her wand. He spoke quietly, and very close to her ear, sending shivers down Amy’s spine. “This is the levitation charm. Repeat after me. Wingardium Leviosa.” Amy did as told, and before she knew it, she was lifting objects large and small and moving them up, down, and sideways through the air. Abraxas clapped politely. “Bravo,” he said. “I knew you had it in you. At least.. You do now.”

Amy looked up at the older but very handsome man and his startling blue eyes seemed to drink her in. She noticed his pupils dilating as he gazed at her. After a second or two, however, Abraxas snapped out of it.

“Some wine,” he declared. “To celebrate.”

Amy nodded and followed the wizard to a room that resembled a study of some kind. He offered her a seat on a small couch, which she took, and a glass of a red wine - doubtless expensive. “To a beautiful new witch,” he said, raising his glass. Amy flushed, but copied his movements once again, and drank deeply of the wine. Abraxas started making conversation, asking her about her life with Tom, about the baby. She gushed over Victor, who Abraxas agreed was a very handsome toddler and the spitting image of his father. He asked whether Victor had shown any signs of magic yet, and when she answered that she didn’t know, he told her what to look for. “What if he isn’t, you know..?” Amy started, seeking out those piercing blue eyes. Abraxas put his hand over hers in a reassuring gesture. “He will be,” he said confidently, taking a sip that was rather larger than usual.

All told, Amy had three glasses of wine, and had started on a fourth. Her face was nearly as red as the wine itself. Abraxas was not unaffected, having imbibed his share, and, emboldened by liquid courage, took the opportunity to act on his desires. Facing towards Amy, he reached over to tuck her loose black curls behind her ear. “So lovely,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Amy moaned -- realizing she had dreaded this happening, yet she felt very receptive to it now. The man kissed her in such a way that Tom rarely did – a way that expressed an intense longing yet was gentle and sweet. Amy felt herself melting like butter as Abraxas wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back and pulling her close to him. Slowly, he pressed Amy down onto the couch. Both of them groaned as the man rutted his hardness against Amy’s knickers. Amy knew she was very wet, and she desperately wanted more of the powerful wizard. Thoughts of Tom were put away as she reminded herself that he was the one responsible for this - she should allow herself to enjoy it without guilt.

“I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you,” he panted against Amy’s mouth. “You can’t imagine how I felt when I found out that you were a muggle.” 

Amy was not sure what to make of that double-edged compliment.  “I’m not anymore,” she said, lifting her hips up to urge more contact between her pelvis and his erection. “True, but,” Abraxas growled, “you’re still. so. filthy.” Amy moaned as the man attacked her neck with his lips and tongue, and she was sure he’d leave marks. “So beneath me,” he hissed, unbuttoning his trousers to fist himself. Amy had not been this turned on in a really long time. “Please,” she cried, urging Abraxas forward. “Please fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Abraxas ginned before vanishing Amy’s knickers and lining the head of his cock up against her opening. When he did not penetrate her right away, Amy became desperate. Instead, he swiped his head up and down her slit, gathering her wetness and stimulating her clit slightly. “Please!” Amy begged, canting her hips forward, trying to force him inside of her.

“Shh, poppet. Patience,” Abraxas said through gritted teeth as he sunk his cock slowly into her heat. Amy cried out at the feeling of him penetrating her. The man on top of her gasped and groaned, slowly beginning to move his cock in and out of her. “Oh god,” Amy moaned, her arms and legs wrapped around his hips, urging him in deeper.

Abraxas fucked into Amy with abandon. He had wanted this so badly for what felt like a very long time. Ever since Tom had promised her to him, he had thought exclusively about her when he masturbated, and even when he took other women. “Filthy girl,” he groaned against Amy’s ear, fucking her at a punishing pace. “Tell me you love this pureblood cock.”

“Oh!” Amy gasped, feeling a little humiliated but enjoying this so very much. “I need your pureblood cock. I need your pureblood seed.”

“That’s right,” Abraxas snarled on top of her, pounding into her deeper than Amy had ever been fucked before.  "I'm going to fill that filthy muggle cunt right up."

Amy shuddered, her pussy spasming around Abraxas’ generous organ. “Oh god!” she cried as she experienced her very first orgasm from being fucked. Suddenly, she became very sensitive and she almost couldn’t tolerate anymore. She made a lot of whimpering and whining noises as Abraxas chased his own orgasm.

“Good slut, cumming on a Malfoy dick,” Abraxas groaned, the pace of his thrusts increasing, becoming erratic. “Yes!” he shouted, as he stilled and emptied himself deep into Amy’s quivering cunt.

“Fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted, before giving Amy a few chaste kisses. Both struggled to catch their breath as Abraxas crawled off of Amy and quickly cleaned them both up.

Amy stopped in the powder room before leaving Malfoy Manor. She looked a mess – her hair mussed, her face red, her lips swollen. She knew Tom had basically given her permission to fuck Abraxas, but she was still worried about it being too obvious. He probably expected this to happen this very evening. She just hoped that she had time to clean up and sober up properly before Tom came home.

Chapter Text

Tom was reading in his armchair when Amy got home with Victor. He did not glance at her nor say a word when she entered. If Tom didn’t wish to speak, Amy wouldn’t press him – instead, she went about the business of feeding Victor and readying him for bed.

Just as she exited Victor’s bedroom, Tom caught her by the wrist. “You reek of sex,” he snarled, his eyes flashing crimson.

Amy flushed in humiliation, unable to look at Tom, whose fury was radiating off of him palpably. “I thought you wanted me to..” she managed to squeak out, and Tom tightened his grip.

“Stop, you’re hurting me,” Amy whimpered, trying to wrest her wrist away from Tom. Tom responded by slapping her across the face. Amy gasped, and could barely hold back her tears as Tom leaned in so close his breath was on her skin. “My agreement was with Abraxas, not with you,” he growled.

“You will look at your lord when he speaks to you, whore.” Amy sheepishly raised her eyes to meet his. She had never seen Tom so angry. Part of her was expecting him to use the torture curse on her again.

Suddenly, Tom released her, nearly pushing her away. “You need to wash,” he commanded, before abruptly leaving the vicinity.

Amy sobbed in the bathroom as she disrobed and began to scrub the perspiration and fluids from her coupling with Abraxas off of her. She was utterly confused – hadn’t Tom promised her to Abraxas? Why was he now so angry with her? It didn’t make any sense.

Fortunately for Amy, Tom had managed to calm down a bit during her shower. When Amy emerged from the bath, smelling of shampoo rather than sex, Tom allowed her a few minutes before he addressed her again. “Did you enjoy it?” he said in a low voice, studying Amy carefully. The girl looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “You did, didn’t you,” the taller man said, stepping forward and tilting her face up towards his.

“I agreed that Abraxas could make use of you, not that I would be happy about it,” he explained. Well, that clears it up, Amy thought. “And I know Abraxas well enough to know that he would not force himself on you.”

Amy swallowed and nodded, her cheeks a pleasant pink. Tom rubbed his nose against her forehead. “Tell me,” his whispered.

“I.. he.. We had some wine after my lessons,” Amy began.

“Go on.”

“He kissed me.. and I let him.. fuck me.”

“Tell me how much you loved it, whore,” Tom groaned.

“I did like it. It.. It felt good,” Amy said in barely a whisper.

Tom wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he whispered in her ear “maybe I should arrange to give all my Knights a turn with you, hm? Would you like that?”

Amy felt a shiver run through her at the suggestion, but she knew it was not something she really wanted. She shook her head.

“Use your words,” Tom muttered, looking down at Amy intently.

“No, my lord.”

“Good girl,” Tom purred. “Always remember who you belong to.. Who your body belongs to. Now you’re going to make it up to me.”

Amy knew exactly what Tom wanted. It was what he almost always wanted. She sank to her knees, staring up demurely at the man who demanded her submission. Tom hissed at the sight of Amy on her knees before him, her eyes rimmed red from crying. “Lose the innocence act,” he spit. “I want to see the wanton whore I know you’ve got in there.”

Face burning, Amy let her bathrobe slip off her shoulders, revealing her breasts to Tom. Making intense eye contact with the wizard looming over her, Amy began to knead her breasts for him. Tom watched, captivated, as Amy put on a little show for him, reaching down between her legs to stroke her clit, her eyes fluttering closed as she let out little moans and whimpers of pleasure. She heard Tom undoing his trousers, and her eyes were immediately drawn to his erect cock as he stroked it in front of her face. Her eyes locked on Tom’s, Amy leaned forward and ran the tip of her tongue up the length of his throbbing penis. He groaned at the display as well as the feeling, his eyes hooded with desire.

Before Amy knew what was happening, she was being hauled to her feet and pushed against the wall. Her bathrobe was ripped off of her entirely and thrown to the floor. Tom entered her without ceremony from behind, pressing her into the wall as he fucked her with abandon. “Amy,” he ground out, his hips slamming into her over and over again, “tell me who you belong to.”

“I’m yours, my lord!” Amy shouted, forgetting about the baby sleeping in the other room.

“That’s right,” Tom growled. “You’re mine. My little whore. You love it when I use you, don’t you.”

“Ah! Yes!”

“Love it when I fill you up with my cum.”

“Yes!”

Tom took hold of Amy’s hair, yanking her head back towards him. “Filthy mudblood whore,” he ground out, his cock pounding into Amy ruthlessly. Tom used his other hand to reach in front of Amy and slip two long fingers down into her slit, rubbing at her clit furiously. Amy strained to get as much contact with his fingers as possible. She was still riled up from having come with Abraxas earlier and her entire pussy felt swollen and sensitive around Tom’s cock and against his fingers.

“Come on my cock, little witch,” the handsome wizard hummed in Amy’s ear. Amy shuddered and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as Tom worked her towards completion. Tom could feel her cunt tightening around him and was determined to get a proper orgasm out of the girl. Usually he wasn’t very concerned about Amy’s pleasure but he needed to make his mark on her again now that Abraxas had tainted her. While he worked her clit, Tom was struggling against his own orgasm. “Come, slut,” he barked, and within seconds, Amy was clamping down on his cock, her pussy spasming around him over and over again as she rode out her orgasm, her entire body shaking as Tom continued to rut into her.

“Oh fuck,” Tom growled, desperately pounding Amy as she whimpered from the overstimulation. Amy cried out, and soon Tom was emptying his balls deep inside of her. Removing his deflated cock from her, Tom let Amy go, and she all but collapsed. Amy felt very sore between her legs and wished she knew more healing charms, but was afraid of what Tom might say if she asked him for help with that. Instead, she settled for another shower and some aspirin.  When she came to bed, Tom lifted an arm for her, and she snuggled in the crook of his armpit until they both fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Tom escorted Amy to her next lesson with Abraxas. He said he wanted to personally oversee her tutoring, but Amy knew he was more than likely concerned about a repeat of the previous session’s events. She sighed to herself as Tom led her by the hand through Malfoy Manor like a child.

Malfoy had been surprised to see Tom. “I want to watch,” the dark haired wizard had said, smirking in response to Abraxas’ quirked eyebrow. Tom stayed back while Abraxas reviewed Accio and Wingardium Leviosa with Amy, and watched with interest as he demonstrated the wand movements for Incendio to her.

“Seems a bit dramatic when one could just light a match,” Amy said as an old chair went up in flames. Both men chuckled. “You could use it to light a fire,” Abraxas gestured, “but it’s important to remember all your spells when it comes to defensive magic. You never know when you might need them.”

Amy nodded, imitated Abraxas, and cast a respectable Incendio. She turned around to face Tom, who was seated some distance behind teacher and pupil, and smiled broadly. Tom shot her back a small but sincere smile, as if congratulating her on a job well done.

They practiced well into the evening – Glacius, Expelliarmus, Depulso. Amy was catching on fast, and she had Abraxas to thank for his tutelage.

“Will you teach me to ride a broom?” she asked, her eyes wide like an innocent child pleading with her mother for sweets.  "You can ride my broom any time, darling." Abraxas shot a look at Tom, who glared back at him.  “Some day, I will certainly teach you to ride a broom."

Amy's face lit up, and Tom rose from his chair. “Shall we retire somewhere more comfortable?” he suggested, before Abraxas led the trio to his sitting room, and offered his guests his signature wine.

Tom watched closely as Amy sipped her wine. She appeared nervous and was licking her lips repeatedly. Abraxas had a smug look on his face – like a cat who got the cream – as he took his seat in his favorite armchair. He had a regal air to him like a king seated on his throne.

“Malfoy,” Tom said inside Abraxas’ head. “I want to watch you use her mouth again.”

With that, Abraxas let out a little groan, feeling himself harden in his trousers. “With pleasure, my lord,” he replied.

Amy gulped and looked from Abraxas to Tom, unsure what was going on, before Tom reached for her glass of wine and set it down on the table next to him.

“Come,” said Abraxas, crooking his fingers at Amy in a “come hither” fashion. Amy shot a look at the brooding wizard next to her, who inclined his head slightly to indicate his assent. Shyly, Amy began to rise to her feet. “No-” Abraxas began, freezing Amy in her tracks, before revealing a wide, toothy grin. “Crawl.”

Amy couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and struggled with herself to obey. She didn’t want to face the wrath of either of these men alone, much less together. Swallowing her pride, Amy lifted her skirt slightly, got to her knees, and placed both hands on the floor in front of her, then looked back up at the blonde wizard who was gazing down at her with a look that was a mixture of lust and disdain.

“You heard the man,” Amy heard from behind her as Tom smiled into his wine glass. Feeling utterly humiliated, Amy forced herself to crawl towards Abraxas. She wanted to give him a defiant look, but was unable to maintain eye contact with him. Her flushed red face told Abraxas everything he needed to know about how she was feeling.

“It’s nice to see a mudblood who knows her place,” the pureblood wizard laughed, uncrossing his legs and reaching down to adjust his bulge. By the time Amy reached him, he was openly stroking himself through the fabric.

“Go ahead,” he motioned, picking up his wine glass to drink as if nothing was happening. With shaking hands, Amy reached out to undo the buttons that concealed his erection. She could feel Tom’s eyes boring into her as she revealed the other man’s penis. Abraxas was looking at Amy with an expression of pure want as she began to stroke his cock with one small, soft hand.

“Such a good little mudblood pet you have, Tom,” he groaned, and Amy felt his words seem to land right between her legs, where she felt a warm fluttering.

Tom got to his feet and walked over to get a closer look. Amy looked up at him questioningly as she continued to stroke Abraxas. “Her” wizard reached out a hand to rest on the top of her head. “That’s a good girl,” he said, before crouching down next to Amy, and leaning in to whisper to her. “Take him in your mouth,” he commanded, stroking Amy’s hair. The girl shivered but obeyed. Tom watched, torn between fascination and jealousy as Amy craned her neck forward to meet the blonde’s monster cock from where it proudly jutted towards her. The older wizard hissed and threw his head back as she began working his cock masterfully.

“Oh, Merlin! You filthy mudblood whore,” he moaned, pupils blown wide with desire as he watched the girl bob her head up and down his length. Pleasure coursed through him and he wanted more than anything in that moment to come down Amy’s throat.

Abraxas gripped the chair tightly as Amy stimulated his cock’s sensitive head. “Ah!”

Tom was palming himself through his trousers. “Tell Malfoy what happened after you acted like a whore for him last time.”

Amy pulled her mouth off of Abraxas and continued working him with her hand. Looking away, she mumbled "Our lord didn’t like it,” memories of that evening coming back to her.

“I don’t imagine he did,” Abraxas gasped, canting his hips upwards in an attempt to get more stimulation.

Amy wasn’t sure what to say. Tom had brought it up. Maybe he wanted Abraxas to know how he treated her. She looked at Tom, who grinned maliciously.

“Did Tom hurt you, Amy?” Abraxas said in a low voice. “Did he punish you?”

Amy nodded, then quickly followed it up with a quiet verbal “yes.” The admission made her eyes well with tears, but also caused a throbbing between her legs. Tom wrapped her hair around his hand and forced her face towards Abraxas. Tears streamed down Amy’s face but she didn’t stop jerking his cock for even a second.

“Tom is a powerful wizard. Best do what he says,” Abraxas said, voice heavy with lust. “I wish he would let me punish you. Now suck.”

Amy got back to the business of pleasing Abraxas with her mouth. Abraxas was looking from her mouth stretched around his cock to Tom and back again, groaning as she hit all the right spots. “My lord,” he panted. “May I finish in her wicked little mouth?”

Tom thought for a second. “No,” he said, then added non-verbally, “Come on her face.”

With that, Abraxas’ cock throbbed desperately, wanting to come all over the young muggleborn girl’s pretty face - to show her how far beneath him she truly was. Tom pulled Amy back abruptly off of Abraxas’ cock, and the handsome blonde stood. Amy stared at him in confusion as he worked his cock in front of her face. “You don’t deserve me to come in your mouth,” he hissed, pointing his cock towards her face. Amy figured out what was coming, and screwed her eyes up tightly. Tom noticed and jerked her head again. “Watch,” he commanded, and Amy opened her eyes back again just in time to see the cum spurting from Abraxas’ massive dick and feel it landing across her face. It felt disgusting and slimy, but she did her very best not to react. Some sobs escaped as string after string of potent pureblood cum decorated her hair, face, and chest.

“Oh,” Abraxas groaned as his cock began to go flaccid in his hand. “You look so perfect covered with my cum, darling.”

Tom let go of Amy’s hair and Abraxas got to one knee in front of her, taking hold of her hand, kissing it and helping her to her feet.

“One more spell before you leave. Say it with me. Tergeo.”

Chapter Text

Tom was on Amy as soon as they apparated into their living room, his hand entangled in her hair as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Amy acquiesced as Tom’s tongue penetrated her mouth relentlessly. Pulling back to catch her breath, Amy looked into Tom’s eyes and found the irises glowing slightly red around his wide pupils. “My—My Lord,” her voice quavered, lost in the eyes that seemed to want to devour her. She was so confused: Tom had been so angry with her for sleeping with Abraxas, but then had basically forced her into it again. Amy couldn’t figure out which way was up with this man.

Tom chuckled, having dipped into Amy’s mind. “You have no idea how much it turned me on to watch Abraxas dominate you,” he said, stepping closer. He cupped Amy’s face with one hand while the other tilted her chin up towards him. He kissed her gently, as if savoring the feeling of her soft lips on his, before continuing. “I don’t mind my most loyal follower using you,” he ran a slender finger across Amy’s sensitive lips, causing her to shiver in pleasure. “I just don’t want you to enjoy it too much. You are mine, after all.”

Amy still didn’t understand, but she nodded as if she did in order to appease Tom. The last thing she needed after her earlier degradation was for Tom to become angry with her. “Maybe I should let Abraxas punish you the next time you displease me,” he mused, smiling down at the smaller girl. “He can be very… creative.”

Fear traveled down Amy’s spine at the thought. Tom’s punishments were bad enough – she didn’t need any new type of cruelty inflicted upon her. “You liked seeing me humiliated,” Amy whispered, looking away. She felt as if she would start crying again at any moment. Tom couldn’t hold back his true feelings on the matter. “Yesss,” he hissed, craning Amy’s head backwards to attack her neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Amy mewled desperately. She had already been aroused from her performance with Abraxas earlier – giving men oral sex seemed to really turn her on even in the worst of circumstances and Tom knew this.

“Beg me,” Tom instructed, slowly peeling Amy’s clothing off of her shoulders and continuing to kiss and suck down her front.

“Please,” Amy whimpered, holding Tom’s head to her chest as he suckled her breast, nipping gently on her nipple.

“Please?”

“Please, my lord. I need more.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I need you. Inside me.”

“Patience,” Tom said, trying to exude the appearance of being in complete control, when in reality his cock was rock hard and threatening to burst through the seams of his trousers.

Tom led Amy backwards to their bedroom, and crawled on top of her on their bed. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to try,” he said with a crooked smile. “Divesto! Incarcerous!” Before she knew it, Amy was naked, her hands tied above her to the headboard. “Tom!” she shouted, pulling futilely at her bonds before gasping at her error. But Tom didn’t seem to notice - he was too captivated by the sight of Amy, bound and helpless before him.

“What. What are you doing?”

Tom didn’t answer, he just adjusted himself on top of Amy so that his crotch was pressed against hers and began absolutely devouring her breasts while thrusting against her pubic mound. Amy groaned, pressing up for more contact, whimpering and pleading with Tom.

Suddenly, Tom pulled back, and Amy expected him to undo his pants and fuck her already, and was taken by surprise when Tom shifted down lower on the bed, lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder. Amy flushed crimson, never having been inspected so closely before in such an intimate area. Before she could say anything, Tom had leaned forward and given a sharp lick from her entrance up to and over her throbbing clitoris. Amy squealed, pulling desperately at the ropes. Tom grinned mischievously. “Like that, did you?” before leaning back down to open up Amy’s swollen pussy and begin licking her in earnest. Two long, slender fingers were pressed slowly into Amy, caressing her insides. “Oh!” she gasped as Tom wriggled his fingers to stimulate something inside of her. Amy felt the intensity of the sensation in her core building as Tom finger-fucked her while placing tiny licks to her clit in quick succession.

“My lord, please, don’t stop,” she said, straining towards him for more contact. “Please!”

And Tom didn’t stop. He worked her harder and faster until she felt the tension within her reach a breaking point. “I’m coming!” she shouted. “Tom! Oh, god!” she cried as she unraveled before him, her insides clenching and unclenching on his fingers and clit dancing on his tongue as she came. Tom gently stimulated her inside and out throughout her orgasm. “Oh, thank you,” Amy breathed.

“We’re not done yet, love,” Tom grinned, removing his own clothing. His cock hadn’t been this hard in a very long time, and it was weeping from the tip. Amy felt a thrill run through her womb at the sight of it – knowing how very badly Tom wanted her. Tom ran the head of his erection up and down Amy’s soaking wet slit before teasing the entrance. “I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he whispered, before pressing slowly into Amy’s cunt. Both gasped as he penetrated her inch by inch. “So tight,” he ground out, as Amy’s post-orgasmic swollen pussy was indeed tighter and wetter than he had ever found her before.

“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you, slut?” he groaned, bottoming out inside of her, his pelvic bone pressing into her oversensitive clit. Amy yelped, trying to shimmy away a little, but Tom held her in place. “My turn,” he grinned and began thrusting into Amy in earnest. “Oh! Oh, no!” Amy cried, hoping Tom would come quickly as she could barely stand to be fucked right now. It felt far, far too good.

“That’s it,” the tall, handsome wizard said. “Take my cock and love it.”

Amy struggled to maintain her composure as Tom abused her sensitive body, pinching her nipples, slamming into her pussy so hard that it sent shockwaves through her clit and directly into her womb. “I’m going to come so far inside you,” Tom hissed, punishing Amy’s pussy with his cock, part of him trying to fuck his way up into her womb. “Show you who you belong to.”

“I’m yours! I belong to you!” Amy cried, desperate to appease Tom.

“Good little witch,” Tom panted, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. He couldn’t hold on long given how tight Amy was and how long he had been waiting for this moment.

With a word, Tom released Amy’s hands and she immediately wrapped them around his waist, drawing his hips into her, encouraging his orgasm. “Fuck me, my lord. Come in your filthy little slut,” she said in a low voice. This sent Tom cascading over the edge, his cock jerking as he unloaded deep inside her with an otherworldly groan.

“Good.. Good girl,” he gasped, exhaustedly rolling next to Amy. Amy gingerly stood up, Tom’s cum dripping from her swollen pussy, wondering whether she had time for a quick shower before she went next door to pick up Victor.

Chapter Text

Tom had forbidden Amy from being intimate with Abraxas when he was not present. Part of Amy was relieved by this, but part of her was upset. It would be nice to simply make the choice for herself one way or another. The entire arrangement was incredibly unbalanced and disrespectful, and she had essentially no say in any of it. She felt trapped between the two wizards, though she found both of them very attractive, her complete lack of agency in their dynamic did bother her.

Amy had become accustom to being abused by Tom but that abuse had never extended to involve another tormentor until Abraxas came into the picture. She sighed, wondering whether or when she might ever have something resembling a “normal” relationship with Tom. It didn’t seem likely. Amy wondered why she even wanted one.

There was nothing about Amy and Tom’s relationship that rivaled what she had had with Eddie, and Amy often missed the kind muggle man. Amy kept a locket around her neck that contained a photo of Eddie, Victor, and herself together as a family, taken not long after Victor had been born. She often grasped it tightly in her hand, which made her feel closer to Eddie, but generally, Amy tried not to dwell on him. Just the thought of him was enough to fill her eyes with tears. She wondered who had buried him, what rumors were circulating the muggle world about her, whether they were still looking. Did it ever cross their minds that she had not left willingly? Amy guessed she would probably never find out.

Feeling despondent, Amy reported to Malfoy Manor for that day’s lesson. Abraxas welcomed her to his home as usual, kissing her hand like a gentleman. Amy didn’t say much as he led her to the sitting room.

“Is something on your mind?” the older man asked. “You’re very quiet today.”

Amy wondered how much she could say. She really had no one else to talk to. She decided that Abraxas probably knew anyway, or at least had an idea of what had happened. He was Tom’s closest associate, after all.

“Please,” Abraxas gestured, “Take a seat.” He offered her tea, and summoned a house elf to fetch it.

As Amy sipped her tea, she noticed the cup was shaking. She must have been more upset than even she had been aware of. Her emotional state did not escape Abraxas’ notice, and he assessed her carefully.

“Is it that bad?”

Amy did her best to set down her cup and saucer without causing an incident. The moment the porcelain clinked onto the table, she began sobbing into her hands. At the display, Abraxas jumped to his feet and approached Amy, stroking her shoulder in a soothing fashion, before leaning down to pull her shaking form against him in a firm hug. “Shh. It’ll be all right. You can tell me,” he said, rocking the small girl slightly. Amy sobbed into him, feeling ridiculous. Secretly, she inhaled the lovely masculine scent of his hair and clothes, taking a bit of comfort in it.

After a few minutes, Amy withdrew slightly, looking up at the blonde, who had concern etched into his face.

“What do you care?” She sniffed. “I am just some mudblood whore for you to play with.”

Abraxas let out something akin to a laugh. “You might be a mudblood,” he explained. “And that does mean something to me, but when I say things like that, I am mostly just toying with you. I don’t actually harbor any ill will towards you at all. On the contrary, I am rather fond of you.”

Amy smiled shyly, an attractive blush coloring her cheeks, matching the red around her eyes and nose. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Abraxas. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s got you so upset?”

Amy took a deep breath, unsure of where to start. “I don’t want to make Tom angry with me.”

“I won’t tell Tom,” Abraxas assured her, taking a sip of his tea. “And he trusts me implicitly. He hasn’t entered my mind in years.”

Amy looked to the floor, then back up at Abraxas’ piercing blue eyes, wide with interest.

Tears threatened to spill again as Amy began her story. “Tom.. he came to my house in the night, after years of not seeing him or hearing from him at all. He killed my husband in front of me, then he took me and Victor, he.. he made us go with him. He says he owns me. Then he killed.. that witch. The one whose magic I have. And he started sharing me with you. He never asked me what I wanted. Sometimes I wonder whether he cares about me at all, or if he just sees me as his property. There’s nothing I can do about any of it. I feel so trapped, so helpless. I have nowhere to go, and he will hurt me if I don’t do what he wants.”

Abraxas inclined his head towards the girl, who seemed smaller and more pathetic than ever.

“Is that all?” he replied. Amy looked at him, eyes full of shock and hurt. Abraxas laughed.

“Oh, darling,” the man before her said, crossing his legs to the other side. “This is Tom Riddle we are talking about.”

Amy looked dumbfounded. She already knew Tom’s name. What was Abraxas saying?

“Perhaps you don’t know,” he mused. “There’s a reason why he is referred to as a ‘lord.’ Why even I refer to him that way. You see, Amy, you have found yourself in the grasp of a particularly powerful dark wizard,” he explained.

Amy didn’t understand what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

“So.. Tom is more than just a normal wizard?” she asked in a small voice.

Abraxas openly chuckled at that. “Yes, quite. He is exceedingly powerful. Most wizards and witches cannot delve into minds like he can, they cannot wield power as he does – wandlessly, wordlessly. It is effortless for him. Tom has been practicing advanced dark magic since he was in school. He is the Heir of Slytherin. He may be a shopkeeper now, but he is destined for greatness.”

“Otherwise,” he sneered, motioning to himself. “What would I be doing with the likes of him? Least of all you.”

Amy felt a ball of dread weighing heavily in her chest. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting from Abraxas, but this was not it. He was acting as if she was an idiot – as if all of this was to be anticipated. As if her mistreatment by Tom was natural.

“Perhaps all that is needed,” Abraxas continued, “is a change in perspective.”

He stood and walked towards the girl, slowly and deliberately, and rested his finger on her lips. “You should feel honored to have our lord’s attention. If you like,” he mused, “I can show you just how good you really have things.”

Amy shivered. She didn’t want to know what Abraxas meant by showing her. She could only imagine it involved more pain and debasement than she had already experienced. “No, thank you,” she offered quietly.

“Shall we get on with it then?” Abraxas said, leading Amy to the practice space. They had been practicing dueling, and Amy had only just managed a successful Protego during the previous lesson.

The tall blonde assumed his position and dueling stance, giving her a smirk. “Let’s test your mettle, little witch,” he said, firing off a barrage of spells for Amy to deflect.

Amy deflected spell after spell, getting hit with a stinging hex only once. “Shall we raise the stakes a bit?” Abraxas grinned, flourishing his wand. “If you can land a hit on me.. I won’t punish you for being such an ungrateful servant to our lord.”

Amy shook with anger. This man was insufferable. She couldn’t imagine how she ever thought he might be somewhat sympathetic. She felt like a fool for confiding in him.

Amy fired hex after hex at Abraxas, and he artfully-dodged or deflected each one. She was so intent on hurting the man that she forgot all about defensive spells and couldn’t get a shield up in time to block his shout of Stupefy! Before Amy knew what had hit her, she was kneeling on the floor, holding her head as Abraxas strode over to her haughtily. One gloved hand entwined into her hair, wrenching her head upwards. “Mudblood filth,” he hissed, and it didn’t seem to Amy in that moment as if he were just being playful.

Amy was pulled to her feet roughly by her hair. “It’s your choice, girl,” Abraxas growled into her pale face. “I can punish you with my wand or with my cock.”

Amy couldn’t bring herself to answer. Either way, she was in trouble. Tom had forbidden her from having sex with Abraxas without his oversight, but she knew untold horrors may await her at the end of his wand. “How about a little sample?” he said, and her attention was drawn to the dark wood of Abraxas' and as he lowered it towards her face. She noticed for the first time that the silver handle was shaped like a snake.  “Crucio,” he snarled, and Amy screamed from the depths of her soul, pain shooting through every part of her body.

Abraxas terminated the spell quickly, watching Amy intently as she hugged herself, tears streaming down her face. “Your cock, please.”

“Please what?” Abraxas pressed.

“Please, Sir.”

Chapter Text

“Your cock, please,” Amy whispered, staring at Abraxas’ meticulously-polished boots.

“Please what?” He pressed.

“Please, Sir.”

“Mmm,” the man hummed with a subtle smile as he considered his options. Releasing his grip on Amy’s hair, Abraxas turned his wand over in contemplation. “I do wonder..” he began as Amy’s mind raced, trying to find a way out of this predicament.

“How lucky you are, dear girl,” the blonde said, sporting a malicious smirk. “Most witches would give their wand arm for this opportunity.”

Amy grimaced internally at his hubris. It was true that Abraxas Malfoy was a very attractive wizard, and she had enjoyed sexual activity with him on more than one occasion, but the fact that he was twisting her arm like this didn’t sit well with her.

“What about T-- Our lord?” Amy asked, daring to raise her eyes to meet his.

Abraxas let out a chuckle. “That sounds like your problem, not mine.”

Amy was acutely aware that she still had her wand, and gripped it tightly in her sweaty hand. She wished she was more adept with it and knew more spells. She was not sure what she could do to escape this situation, and though she turned it over in her head again and again she couldn’t think of anything foolproof enough to work without simply angering Abraxas and incurring even more of his wrath.

Sighing, Amy accepted her fate, and slowly got to her feet, looking up at Abraxas expectantly.

“This way,” the man said, completely sure of himself, while leading Amy to another wing of the manor. Amy thought about making a dash for it, but couldn’t find the courage. They ended up in what appeared to be a combination of a bedroom and an elegantly-appointed torture chamber.

Abraxas placed a hand on her shoulder and guided Amy to the center of the room. “Give me your hands,” he said, and Amy dutifully held out her hands in front of her. Abraxas summoned a rope from the ceiling, and looped it around Amy’s wrists. “Good girl,” he said, pulling on the other end of the rope just enough to stretch Amy’s arms above her and force her onto her toes.

With a word, Amy was completely naked in front of the imposing man, his black robes a stark contrast to her pale body as he appraised her openly. From the bulge in his trousers, it was obvious that he approved of what he saw.

“I don’t think our lord would mind if I performed a bit of corrective punishment on his behalf,” he drawled, tucking his wand away and reaching for his belt – the silver buckle gleaming as he began to unclasp it. “After all, it would do you good to gain a little more respect for your betters. Don’t you agree?” he asked rhetorically, flexing the belt in his hands as he looked into Amy’s wide, frightened eyes.

Amy didn’t answer, just turned her head slightly. It appeared the man had more planned for her than just sex. Please, get this over with, she pleaded mentally as he approached her.

Amy waited for a blow from the belt which never came, her eyes closed tightly and body braced for the pain. Instead, she felt Abraxas take hold of her chin, his leather gloves smooth against her skin. “Perhaps penance rather than punishment,” he began. Amy looked at him, confused. “As much as I would enjoy leaving marks on this beautiful skin of yours, I fear I am not at liberty to do so.”

Amy breathed a sigh of relief at the modest reprieve, but the feeling was short-lived. Abraxas began to pace thoughtfully. “Although,” he continued, “perhaps in our lord’s defense, some corporal punishment could be tolerated.”

Amy was not sure what Tom had told Abraxas about how to treat her aside from their general agreement about sexual access. Even that he had put some conditions upon, such as now wanting to be involved in it, however, from past experience, Amy knew the onus of enforcing that arrangement rested upon her – she was certain Abraxas had not been counseled specifically to leave her alone.

It seemed Abraxas would do what he wanted and Amy would be the one to pay the price if he overstepped – a very unfair dynamic, but no one had asked her, and no one was going to.

Abraxas approached Amy, the belt folded in his hand, but instead of striking her with it, he ran it up and down her sides, across her breasts, and over her thighs. It tickled, and Amy squirmed as he moved it all over her body. Abraxas was very close to her, and standing on her tip toes she was almost at his height. “I think we can forgive your transgression,” he purred, causing Amy to shiver the feeling of his breath on her sensitive skin. “If you apologize properly. Alternately...” he snapped the belt in his hands, making his point clear.

“Apologize?” Amy asked, not sure what she had to apologize for in this particular moment. The blonde wizard shot her an irritated look.

“Apologize for being such an unworthy servant of our lord.”

Amy swallowed thickly, but her dignity having been sacrificed a very long time go, she complied. “I’m.. I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

“I’m sorry!” she cried more loudly, channeling the ache she felt in her arms.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Tom strode inside, dark robes billowing around him. He immediately saw Amy naked and bound, and noticed Abraxas holding his belt. He looked none too pleased.

“What is the meaning of this, Abraxas?” he snarled.

Abraxas seemed startled, and tried to gather his words. “The girl, she.. She was insolent. She does not understand the honor of serving you.”

Tom stepped forward, wand raised. “I will be the judge of that, Abraxas,” he spat. Abraxas cowered slightly – this would not have been his first time being cursed by Tom.

Tom’s red eyes flashed as he assessed the situation – Amy stretched out in front of him, completely nude, Abraxas looking like he was prepared to whip her with his belt. Tom felt his cock harden in his trousers despite his anger.

“On second thought,” he mused, finding the display rather enticing, “Amy, why don’t you tell me of your misdeeds?”

Amy felt her face color as she dangled from the ceiling. “Please, my lord, this hurts..”

“Tell me. You know I can read you like an open book, darling, but I would rather hear it from those lovely lips of yours.”

Amy felt like she was going to cry. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, biting back tears. “I told him.. I was upset. I wondered whether you care about me. I said I don’t like the things you’ve done,” she said, unable to meet Tom’s eyes and bracing for a negative response.

Tom’s face softened, his eyes deep black pools once again. He stepped towards Amy and loosened the rope that held her arms up awkwardly so that she could stand on her feet normally. Amy sighed with relief. Leaning in close to the small girl, Tom whispered into her ear. “Of course I care about you, Amy,” he said, and Amy sobbed, having never heard him articulate such a thing to her in all this time.

“I care about that which is mine. But.. I cannot tolerate disloyalty, from you or anyone.”

Amy continued to weep quietly as she stood naked in front of the two dark wizards.

Tom ran a finger down Amy’s cheek, then used his thumb to wipe away her tears. “You love a bad, bad man, don’t you, Amy?” Amy sobbed harder, knowing there was no way to answer that that would not land her in more trouble. And worst of all – it was true. She did love Tom.

Tom wrapped his arms around Amy, holding her close. The fabric of his cloak felt scratchy on Amy’s sensitive nipples and she shivered. All the while, Abraxas was watching intently, his intense blue eyes darkened with desire as he watched Tom stroke and caress the crying girl.

“Do you want to know the truth, darling?” Tom asked, resting his forehead against Amy’s, forcing her to look deeply into his eyes. “I think you enjoy being abused by me as much as I enjoy abusing you.”

“No!” Amy gasped, as the heat of humiliation spread from her chest throughout her body.

Tom just smiled. “Relashio.”

Her hands finally free, Amy found herself being guided backwards towards the bed. Tom crawled over her as she lay there helplessly, feeling the heat pooling between her legs. Was Tom about to fuck her in front of Abraxas?

Yes.

“Oh!” Amy gasped, as Tom parted her thighs, insinuating himself between them. Amy squirmed as he slipped a finger into her, testing her wetness. “My, my,” Tom grinned, circling her clit with her own wetness, “we’re going to have to tie you up more often, seeing how worked up you get over it.”

Amy did not like this idea, but she didn’t dare vocalize that. Instead, she watched as Tom reached down to unbuckle his own belt and retrieve his erection. The head of his cock was weeping with need as he angled it towards her opening. In her peripheral vision, Amy noticed Abraxas working his cock with his hand, boring holes into them with the intensity of his gaze.

“Oh, Amy,” Tom breathed, slowly pressing into the girl’s tight body, millimeter by millimeter. Amy felt him stretching and filling her with some measure of satisfaction. Despite their audience, having Tom inside of her felt so right and very good. She let out a small moan as he sank into her fully, pressing his pelvic bone against her clit.

The handsome man on top of her groaned with pleasure at the feeling of her wet pussy gripping his cock. Abraxas moved closer as Tom began to thrust into Amy in earnest – giving her a thorough pounding.

“That’s it,” Abraxas growled, and Amy’s head snapped towards him. “Worship your master. Take his cock.” His hand flew faster and faster over his long, turgid cock, eyelids heavy with lust.

Grunts permeated the air. The slapping sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing consumed Amy’s existence as Tom rutted her ruthlessly, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Please, my lord,” Amy whimpered, pulling him to her more tightly.

“Tell me who you belong to,” Tom growled on top of her, his thrusts becoming desperate.

“You! I belong to you! Lord Voldemort!” Amy cried. She saw Tom’s eyes roll back into his head as he surged forward inside of her, releasing his seed deep into her womb. Abraxas, who had approached the couple, cleared his throat. “My lord,” he said, looking to Tom hopefully.

Tom sighed and withdrew from Amy, rolling off of her and onto the bed proper. With a wave of his hand to Abraxas, the blonde had mounted her. Amy didn’t even have a chance to react before he was inside of her, seeking his own release. He had gotten so close from watching the two of them that it took only seconds before, his hips stuttering, Abraxas was also pumping Amy full of his potent cum. “Filthy mudblood whore,” he groaned, and Amy felt her pussy spasm around his cock as she was filled by the second man in a row that evening. She had never felt so truly filthy in her life.

Chapter Text

When Tom was let off early from Borgin & Burkes due to some discrete business need, he immediately apparated to Malfoy Manor. Although he trusted that Abraxas was one of his most faithful Knights, he did not trust him alone with Amy. When he did not find the pair in the practice room, Tom reached out with his mind to locate Amy. He found her in distress and discomfort, and his heart rate increased as he roamed the manor, searching for the correct room. As he got closer and closer, Amy’s misery and fear grew stronger in Tom’s mind. With some urgency, he burst into the room she was in and was greeted by a rather rousing sight – Amy strung up from the ceiling, bare as the day she was born.

Tom looked to Abraxas, his eyes narrowing. He had never given Abraxas permission to harm Amy, yet here he was, belt in hand, Amy pleading for mercy before him. “What is the meaning of this, Abraxas?” he snarled.

Apparently Amy had said some unfavorable things about him - things unbecoming of her position. He prompted the girl, easily extracting her confession. As she struggled to maintain her footing, Tom approached her. He never wished for the girl to be so unhappy, although he was not willing to fundamentally change his behavior in order to avoid it. Still, he could do better. “Of course I care about you, Amy,” he said in a low voice. The helpless girl sobbed before him. He both hated and loved how readily Amy cried. It showed her to be weak – pathetic – but it also gave him a thrill to know how much of an effect he had on her.

Part of Tom wanted to admonish Abraxas, but another part of him was titillated by the predicament they now found themselves in. Tom was not entirely without self-awareness: he knew how he appeared to other people – how his actions appeared. He didn’t particularly care, but he knew Amy did. “You love a bad, bad man, don’t you, Amy?” he teased, causing the girl to shake and sob even more fervently. He knew it was true – she loved him, and that was the main reason he had so much control over her. It wasn’t fear – it was love.

“Do you want to know the truth, darling? … I think you enjoy being abused by me as much as I enjoy abusing you.” Of course the girl would protest, how could she not? And yet.. Tom knew how aroused Amy became around him, even when he was rough and cold with her. How she desired him. How she craved his affections. She may wish things were different, but, ultimately, Amy would take what she could get.

Releasing the girl from her bonds, Tom took her while Abraxas watched, allowing his loyal follower his turn afterwards. Whether Amy desired it or not was not even a consideration, but Tom suspected that part of her did – part of her that she wished to deny. Most importantly, it turned Tom on to see Amy taking Abraxas’ pureblood cock, and listening to him verbally abuse her.

After having been satisfied, both handsome wizards lay in bed wrapped around Amy’s lithe form as she dripped with their semen. Tom held her particularly close, stroking her hair as if to soothe her while Abraxas peppered kisses all over her body.

Some time later, Tom instructed Amy to dress and floo home. She was relieved to comply, and was eager to clean herself up before picking up Victor.

Once she had left, Tom turned to Abraxas and scowled. “Have you had your fill?”

Abraxas frowned. “My fill? You mean of the girl?”

“Yes, of the girl. My girl.”

“If it is your wish, my lord, then yes.”

Tom looked at Abraxas thoughtfully. He had decided not to subject Amy to him any longer after today’s debacle. He still remembered Amy’s distress acutely, and although it aroused him to a degree, he didn’t appreciate Abraxas taking liberties with what was his.

Tom straightened his clothing and hair. Raising his chin slightly, he dwarfed Abraxas, fixing his gaze on the man’s ice blue eyes. “Thank you for your tutelage,” he said, his meaning clear. Abraxas nodded, and Tom registered the disappointment on the other man’s face just before he apparated.

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Later that evening, Tom approached Amy. “I talked to Abraxas. You won’t be seeing any more of him. At least not alone. I thought you should know.”

Amy nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. “Will you teach me magic, then?” she asked in a small voice.

“If I must,” Tom sighed. It was not exactly a ringing endorsement, and Amy wondered whether she would ever learn to apparate or ride a broom like a proper witch.

Speaking of proper witches.. “My lord,” Amy said, gathering her courage. “Abraxas told me.. he said that you are special even amongst wizards.”

Tom chuckled. Special. “That’s one way to put it,” he said, his amusement showing on his face.

“What did he mean?”

Tom took a few seconds to respond, not sure what he should tell Amy nor how to say it. Amy had no background in the wizarding world and was rather innocent to its ways.

“You see, Amy, not everyone is born with the same abilities, as you well know.” Amy inclined her head – that much was certainly true, based on her own experience to say the least.

“There exist differences between wizards that are as stark as the difference between muggles and wizardkind. I was born with certain.. talents, shall we say? Not only was I born with innate abilities but I have mastered them and other forms of magic over the past few years far above and beyond what the average wizard will ever even dip his toe in.”

Abraxas had also said that he was a “dark wizard.” Amy presumed it was not normal even in the wizarding world to go around killing people, or as Abraxas had implied, reading minds and all that. When she had seen Tom perform wandless magic years ago she hadn’t known what she was witnessing, but now she was beginning to get a sense of how uncommon of a skill that was especially for a mere teenager.

Was it illegal to kill people in the wizarding world? Amy could not be sure, because she knew Tom killed casually and often, and he was her point of reference for all things magic. It made sense that it would still be frowned upon though in any civilized society to run around murdering people, but she dared not say that.

Tom laughed all the same. “Yes, of course it’s illegal to kill people,” he chuckled. “But rules, laws.. Those are for lesser wizards. One must only be clever enough not to get caught.”

“And you.. you’re clever enough,” Amy stated, turning this new information over in her head.

Tom approached her, taking hold of her shoulders and looking deeply into her eyes. “As I said earlier, my dear, you love a very bad wizard indeed,” he grinned before leaning forward to kiss her. Amy returned the kiss, feeling the heat spreading from between her legs almost immediately as he possessed her mouth and tongue. The witch let out a little moan as Tom backed her up against a countertop, inserting one knee between her thighs. Desperate for more contact, Amy rubbed herself up against his leg. Tom smiled and pulled back, leaving Amy wanting. “Let her come to me for once,” he thought, lifting a delicate hand to kiss it before withdrawing to his study.

Chapter Text

Tom sat in his favorite armchair, half-reading, half-waiting for Amy. The dark-haired man smiled to himself, knowing he’d left Amy in quite the state, while he mulled over what might transpire between them in the near future. Tom pretended not to notice as Amy slipped into the room and assumed a spot on her knees by his feet. After a few moments without reaction from Tom, Amy cleared her throat. Tom looked down at her. “What are you reading?” she asked.

Tom answered by shutting his book, and leaning forward in the chair to stroke Amy’s porcelain cheek. “On your knees for me already?” he teased, running one long finger over Amy’s pink pout. Amy flushed as he continued to scrutinize her, feeling almost as if his eyes were able to penetrate her clothing. She knew he was in her mind, rifling through her dirtiest thoughts and desires. What he saw seemed to please him as he let out a hum, his cock twitching with interest. “That’s my girl,” he said in a low, sultry voice. “So eager for me..”

Amy let out a sigh and leaned into Tom’s hand, which stroked her face and hair almost as if she were a cat. It was true – she yearned for him in all the ways a woman might yearn for a man, yet part of her was still timid, still uncertain about how or whether she should approach the powerful wizard in front of her.

“Proceed,” Tom commanded, letting his back rest against the chair, eyes fully-focused on the girl on her knees in front of him, but appearing to hold a cold indifference. Amy reached out to expertly undo Tom’s trousers, eyes locked on his as she extracted his cock and began to stroke it just the way she knew he enjoyed the most. Tom let out a soft groan, falling deeper into the upholstery of the chair, his eyes shut in pleasure as he relaxed into Amy’s ministrations. When he felt Amy’s warm tongue begin to caress the head of his cock, Tom’s eyes flew open and he looked down on her intently as she worked him. Suddenly, he pulled Amy’s head off of him.

“Stop.”

Amy gazed at Tom, confused, a string of saliva still connecting her swollen lips to his throbbing erection. Tom released her, and patted his lap. “Come here,” he said. Amy slowly got up from her knees, which were already aching, and began to crawl over Tom’s legs to straddle him on the chair. She was unsure of what Tom desired, as they had never done anything in this position before. “Closer,” Tom ordered, pulling Amy flush against him by her waist with one hand, hiking her skirt up with the other.

Amy let out a little gasp of surprise as Tom pried her knickers to the side and angled his cock against her dripping wet opening. “Beg for it,” he hissed between gritted teeth, rubbing the head of his cock up and down her slit. Amy moaned, thrusting against Tom. “Beg for your lord to fuck you.”

Amy leaned forward, her head next to Tom’s, speaking breathily into his ear. “Please, my lord,” she pleaded, desperate to have Tom inside of her. “Please fuck me!”

Tom demonstrated his enthusiasm by letting out a growl, which caused Amy to shiver as he lined his head up with her opening. “Do it,” he breathed, as Amy eased herself down onto his stiff organ slowly. Both moaned as Tom’s cock split open Amy’s pussy. “Good girl,” he groaned, his hands flying to Amy’s hips, and helping to guide her up and down. Amy felt Tom so deep inside and she struggled to keep a fast enough pace to be satisfying. She was unused to being on top in any capacity, and felt like it was out of character for Tom, who obviously liked to be in control. Still, she did her best, her pussy clamping around Tom as she began to stroke her clit between their bodies. “That’s a good girl,” Tom hissed, “Touch yourself for me.”

With that, Amy sent her fingers into a frenzy over her sensitive nub, working herself frantically while trying to concentrate on moving up and down on Tom’s cock. She could feel her juices running down her legs as he penetrated her over and over again.

Tom felt himself growing impatient – wanting to fuck Amy harder, faster.. Desiring to pin her down and fuck her properly. Not that this position did not feel good, it certainly did – but perhaps he was doing it for her in a way. Tom ground his teeth as he resisted the urge to grab Amy’s shoulders and force her up and down on his cock like a ragdoll. Instead, he summoned every ounce of patience he had and focused it on kissing Amy passionately, his tongue entering her mouth quickly, devouring her in time with their thrusts. Amy let out a whimper, her fingers working her clit madly as she bounced up and down on Tom’s lap, moaning into his sinful mouth as they fucked. Soon, Amy pulled away, threw her head back, and cried out as her walls clamped down around Tom over and over again, milking his desperately-hard cock as she came.

Tom couldn’t help but watch, entranced by the beautiful sight in front of him as he watched Amy come undone for him. He let Amy have her moment, her body shuddering as well as her cunt, as she fell into a formless heap on top of him, breathing raggedly.

Without a word, Tom looped his arms underneath Amy’s legs and, keeping his cock deeply-embedded in her spasming cunt, he carried her limp form to their bedroom. Lying her down on the bed, Amy’s pupils dilated, her expression dazed and blissful, he resumed thrusting into her sensitive pussy. Amy gasped and groaned, the sensation of Tom’s substantial appendage stimulating her insides while his pelvis crushed her clit feeling a bit too intense in her post-orgasmic state.

Tom fucked Amy through her discomfort, pinning her down by the wrists as he loved to do while his hips snapped into her mercilessly. “Ah!” Amy gasped, looking up at the handsome man grinning down at her. “My good little slut,” Tom said, pounding Amy even harder as if to punctuate the point. “My witch. Coming on my cock. And mine. All mine,” he hissed. He fucked Amy as if the deeper he could penetrate her, the more it proved that she belonged to him.

“Please, my hands,” Amy whimpered, and Tom let them go, only to feel Amy wrap her arms around his back, her delicate hands coming to rest on his shoulders as his body smacked into hers over and over again, her nails digging into his clothed skin.

“Oh, Tom, I love you!” Amy cried, forgetting herself. Tom thought for a moment to be angry, but decided it wasn’t the time, so he fucked her harder instead.

Slap. “Ah!” Slap. “Ah!” The sound of their bodies wetly coming together echoed through the bedroom as Tom dipped his head down to capture Amy’s lips again. Her eager return kiss made his cock pulse as he badgered her with it.

“You have no idea how badly I want to impregnate you again.. watch you swell,” he groaned, and Amy was left speechless, though her body spoke for her as her pussy clenched around Tom’s dick. “Like that idea, do you?” Tom chuckled, his hips slamming into Amy’s spread legs as he chased his release.

"N-no.."

“Gonna cum inside you,” he choked, not noticing the wide-eyed expression on Amy’s face. “Because you’re mine. Ah!” Tom shouted, his thrusts faltering as his release came upon him. Pulse after pulse of potent seed filled Amy and her helpless pussy took every last drop as Tom collapsed on top of her, riding out his orgasm by weakly thrusting his hips into her, sweat dripping from his brow.

Tom groaned as he rolled off of Amy, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him - feeling a strange, warm feeling in his chest. 

Was this love? He thought, holding Amy tightly and burrowing his face in her hair. 

Chapter Text

Was this love?

The very thought troubled Tom. Amy had once told him that he wasn’t even capable of love, and he wasn’t sure he was, but sometimes he wondered. Looking over to Amy in her slumber, watching her breath rise and fall, her face looking so innocent and peaceful, Tom mulled over how attached to her he might be. Could he do without her?

Nonsense. Of course he could.

The warm feeling that settled in his chest upon gazing at Amy’s sleeping form was quickly replaced by an unpleasant gnawing sensation as Tom realized that one day Amy and Victor would die and he wouldn’t. Some day, they too would leave him as his mother had done when he had been at his most needy. 

Only I can live forever, he thought.

Tom rolled onto his back, breathing out slowly to calm himself. No. He simply possessed Amy. Loving her – or anyone – is for the weak, and Tom was anything but.

Deciding there was nothing to be gained by dwelling on the question, Tom went to sleep.

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Frightened though she may be of him at times, Amy still felt lonely when Tom was at work. While she loved little Victor dearly, a toddler was simply not very good company. Amy longed for friends, particularly girlfriends, who she could talk to and spend time with. She particularly needed someone to talk about her relationship with Tom, which was something she was sure he would not appreciate.

As it stood, Amy did not have a single female friend in the world – especially the wizarding world. She still could not risk contact with the muggle world to talk to any of her old friends from Wool’s, school, or St. Ursula’s.

Amy sighed, feeling blue. She wished her whole life was different. She and Victor were well taken-care of, always had food in their bellies, a warm place to sleep, and all that, but the nature of her relationship with Tom, the fact that neither of them had any family to speak of, and her complete lack of any other close relationships made Amy feel very isolated and desperate.

When Tom returned home from work that evening, he could tell something was bothering Amy, and sighed. “What’s wrong now?” he asked rather callously. Amy wasn’t inclined to answer, as she didn’t expect Tom to appreciate her predicament. Tom was not the sort to worry about having friends or people to talk to, now, was he?

“I just.. I need a girlfriend. At least one,” Amy said rather pathetically, fully-expecting mockery. “I was thinking maybe there is a club or activity I could get involved with.. Maybe volunteer work?”

Tom looked at her sideways. Volunteer work?  Working for free?  “What on earth would you want to do that for?”

“Just to meet people, I suppose. It's rather lonely being here all day with only Victor for company. I would love some girls my age to talk to.”

“Well,” Tom started, showing more patience than Amy had even hoped for, “join a knitting circle or something. You’re not a prisoner here. Just be careful.”

“Careful about what?”

“You.. Us.. We are still a secret. You can’t talk to anyone about me. No one can know, Amy."  His expression turned stern. "If I think you’ve breathed a word about me to anyone, even if they’re a nobody, I will make sure you regret it.”

Amy bit back tears. So, then - any friendship she had was doomed to be superficial and meaningless, as she couldn’t talk about the things most important to her. Still, she nodded, unable to make eye contact with the taller man. “I understand,” she whispered, before turning away. Tom could tell that Amy was crying, and part of him felt almost sorry for her, knowing it must be difficult for her to be constrained as she was, dealing with the burdens that she had. He came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around Amy’s waist, nuzzling into the dark hair behind her ear. “Shh,” he whispered, “It’ll be alright. You’ll see. Get yourself some girlfriends. You deserve it. I’m sure they’ll love you.”

Amy sobbed with relief, and turned to face Tom, throwing her arms around him and catching him in a tight hug. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” she cried, burying her face into his shirt. “I love you, Tom.”

Tom went still for a few moments, then stroked Amy’s hair as she breathed him in deeply. “I love you too,” he said quietly, not sure whether or not he meant it, but that was irrelevant – it was obviously what Amy wanted to hear at the time, yet at the words, she began to sob harder and more openly still.

“What did I do?” Tom asked, genuinely curious as to why Amy was seemingly so much more upset now. “I thought you would enjoy hearing that.”

“Oh, my lord, I do. I just thought I would never.. I thought you would never say that to me."

Tom supposed he understood, as silly as the girl and her emotions were. He grinned to himself, extricating himself from Amy to play with Victor as she prepared supper.  The boy recognized him as his father now, and had forgotten all about Eddie.  He was getting big so quickly, and stronger by the day.  He had even started making odd things happen around him, which had pleased Tom to no end.

This little boy, this being.. Flesh of my flesh, Tom thought. He was beautiful. He was magical.  He was perfect. But Tom.. did he love him?

Tom couldn’t say. He felt warmth for the boy - he couldn't deny that -- but he wasn't ready to accept that he felt love. Love made one weak – it was a vulnerability. Tom could not afford to have any vulnerabilities, not with his aspirations, and yet. His son. His.. wife? No, his woman.. They were both dear to him, dearer than any other living being had ever been before.

Still, Tom could not let himself be taken in. He remembered that they were mortal – fleeting. Tom, he was godlike, powerful. One day he would leave them behind. His heart sank at the thought, but he swallowed down the feeling of despair and put on a brave face for his son as they rolled a ball to and from one another. It wasn’t fair, life. It never would be fair. That’s why he had always felt the need to level the playing field – for himself, of course.

Amy watched with smile on her face as Tom and Victor played together.  Father and son, they belonged together, and despite the horrors of Eddie's tragic death, Amy was beginning to accept that they were a family indeed.

Chapter Text

Some weeks passed and Amy found herself volunteering at St. Mungo’s for a bit of social interaction. Tom considered the endeavor to be a phenomenal waste of time and energy but kept his thoughts to himself on the matter, as it seemed to brighten Amy’s mood.

Tom thought regularly about why seeing Amy smiling and laughing seemed to please him. There was no logical explanation for it that he could find. Yet, he was not completely obtuse – he remembered back to the night where he had told Amy he loved her, although he had justified it as charming her, telling her what she wanted to hear, sometimes he wondered if there was a grain of truth to it. The thought disturbed him.

Tom really wasn’t paying very much attention, but he knew that Amy had at least one friend who she’d met at St. Mungo’s – a witch that she’d gone out for tea with. Tom did wonder what Amy had told this witch about her home life and background, although he was convinced that he had Amy wrapped around his little finger, he still needed to be sure that his secrets were safe. As such, he sat Amy down one day at their dining room table, choosing the seat next to her, and took her hand.

Amy looked at Tom curiously, a bit anxious about why he had asked to speak with her after she’d put Victor down for a nap. Tom looked into Amy’s eyes, assessing her fear. Did she have something to hide?

He had to know.

“Not to worry, my dear. I just need to try something. Be still while I have a look.”

A look? Amy was confused. Tom had never needed a formal arrangement to peer into her mind before. What was he doing?

Maintaining eye contact, Tom cast a silent Legilimens, and Amy, for the first time, felt him as if a physical presence in her mind. It was uncomfortable and she gasped at the intrusion. “Tom!”

Inside her mind, Tom hissed in displeasure. His hand gripped hers tighter on the table between them as he delved deeper and deeper, looking through memory after memory in an attempt to find the witch. He had no problem gleaning easily what was on the surface of someone’s mind, but in order to seek out a particular memory, a more invasive approach was required.

Finally, with Amy gritting her teeth in discomfort, Tom found what he was looking for – a witch laughing while Amy regaled her with tales about Victor. Tom pushed, steering the memory towards any mention of him, and found none. Tom watched as Amy dodged any query or mention of Victor’s father, speaking only of a husband who died suddenly and tragically of a heart malady. The witch asked if there was anyone new, and Amy looked away before lying that there wasn’t.

Tom should have been pleased, and for the most part, he was, but he felt a pang of jealousy at being excluded from Amy’s conversation despite that being what he’d asked of her. Abruptly, he withdrew from Amy’s mind, and Amy looked as if she would be sick all over herself. Stroking the back of her pale, clammy hand, Tom smiled gently at her. “Good girl,” he offered, before standing up and leaving the table.

Amy stayed sitting at the table, reeling from what had just happened. Tom had often read her mind, but this time he had gone far deeper than ever before. Amy felt violated – there was no part of her that Tom couldn’t access, couldn’t possess. She drew herself up from the table slowly and went to their room to curl up in bed, fully-clothed.

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Tom rolled his eyes in irritation. Amy was upset again. She had gone from chipper to sullen in a matter of minutes. Now she was sulking in bed, just as she had during the early days at Wool’s.

All because he had entered her mind? Had it really been that bad?

Of course not. Amy was being ridiculous, as usual.

This time, however, Tom was not going to seek Amy out and try to placate her. Let her wallow in her misery. She had done it to herself, after all.

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Amy hadn’t been that traumatized by Tom entering her mind in and of itself. What had upset her was that he didn’t trust her, and had violated her boundaries once again. It was too easy for Amy to go from this line of thinking into a downward spiral about her entire life, every nuance of her relationship with Tom, and the horrors she had faced along the way. She loved Tom, and hated herself for it. She knew in the back of her mind that Tom was a monster. Though he had moments where he could seem decent, Tom was a murderer – an evil man almost completely without scruples – and he did not make an exception for the likes of her.

Amy recalled Tom saying he loved her, and while her heart had warmed at the thought at the time, she knew it was a farce. She knew, and had always known, that Tom was not capable of love in its truest sense. She knew that Tom saw Amy and Victor as possessions – both as a means to an end – or as pleasant diversions at best.

Sobs wracked Amy’s body as she admitted to herself that she was unloved by and stuck with such a man. The thought of getting away from him, of moving on with her life, however, seemed utterly impossible. Who knew what Tom would do if she tried to leave him – she owed him her magic after all, and she was a wanted woman in the muggle world. No, Amy could not go back, she could only move forward.

Maybe someone could help her? Matilda, her new friend from St. Mungo’s, perhaps.. Or St. Mungo’s itself.

Amy didn’t think long on the subject of leaving Tom. Not only was it a dangerous endeavor should Tom ever find out but, despite everything she knew, Amy did truly and deeply love Tom. Part of her never wanted to leave him. This realization devastated Amy to an even greater degree, and she wailed so loudly that she knew Tom would hear it.

If he heard her cries, Tom ignored them, and Amy wept until she had no tears left before falling into a fitful sleep.

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Amy was once again awoken by Tom on top of her, laying claim to her while she slept. At first, she pushed feebly at Tom, trying to get him to stop, before giving up and letting him do as he wished with her body. She looked a mess – eyes red and swollen, nose all snotty – but Tom didn’t care.

As if to show Amy just how little her feelings meant to him, Tom delved into her mind again just as he entered her body. He saw her ruminations about getting away from him, about talking to her friend about him, but pretended that he hadn’t. He would keep that knowledge in his back pocket for later. In the meantime, he took his pleasure from Amy as she whimpered and sobbed quietly. It didn’t feel bad, in fact, Amy rather enjoyed when Tom had his way with her, but she knew this show of dominance was meant to put her back in her place – a thought that both aroused and devastated the young woman.

“Your pussy was made for me, darling,” Tom rasped as he battered Amy’s helpless cunt.

Amy moaned, spreading her legs wider to better accommodate Tom’s sizable erection. She was always eager to please him sexually, which is just how Tom liked it.

Tom’s hand was in Amy’s hair, grasping tightly near her scalp so that he controlled her head while he kissed her passionately.

“Say you’re mine,” he hissed, and a shiver ran through Amy.

“I’m yours!” she cried.

“Good girl.” His thrusts becoming more desperate as Tom neared completion.

“Where do you want me to come?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Amy couldn’t help but moan. “Please – come inside of me.”

Tom groaned. That was the answer he had been hoping for.

“This pussy belongs to me,” he grunted, fucking into Amy harder. “I’ll fill it with my cum.. Make you pregnant.”

Amy pulled Tom tightly to her as if she could get his cock deeper inside of her by doing so. In that moment, every inch of her wanted – no, needed – Tom to fill her with his release. Her logical brain screamed that she couldn’t allow Tom to impregnate her again, yet part of her yearned for it. Her conflicted thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Tom, fully-sheathed inside of Amy, ground his pubic bone against her clit. Amy saw stars, and her pussy clamped down around Tom’s cock as he emptied his balls deep inside of her.

Amy couldn’t deny that she loved it when Tom came inside of her. It made her feel like a proper woman somehow. It felt good, Amy thought, feeling Tom’s sticky seed dripping from her swollen lips.

But a baby..

“My lord,” Amy said hesitantly, looking at the sated man next to her. “Could you cast.. or could you teach me to cast.. a contraceptive charm?”

Tom looked at Amy as if she had asked the world’s most insipid question. “Perhaps later,” he answered curtly, before turning over and going to sleep.

Chapter Text

If Tom had decided that she should be pregnant again, there wasn’t a lot that Amy could do. What Tom wanted, Tom got.

Amy would almost rather fall pregnant than risk his ire by getting a contraceptive potion from St. Mungo’s. She knew that, as a witch, she could find a solution if she really wanted to, but there was always the risk that Tom would look into her mind and see, or otherwise become displeased with her failure to conceive.

Amy had a lot on her mind as she went about visiting patients in her assigned ward on the third floor at St. Mungo’s. She tried not to let it be too obvious, but she was stressed, and it showed. She was currently seated next to a Mr. Barnabus Winchlow, a friendly older man who had suffered a potions mishap. “You seem distracted, my dear,” he said, prompting Amy to give him a weak smile and assure him everything was alright before she resumed reading to him from the Daily Prophet.

Mr. Winchlow fell asleep during her visit as usual, and Amy quietly left the room in search of Matilda, having a little bit of extra time to chat with her friend. Finding her easily in the upstairs tea room, Amy smiled at and walked over to the woman, who greeted her enthusiastically. Matilda’s dirty blonde hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head, her eyes warm and sincere as she read Amy’s facial expression.

“Amy! Is something the matter? Come, have a seat,” the young woman gestured, patting the chair next to her. Amy sat, and poured herself a cup of tea, availing herself of some sandwiches that were provided to the volunteers.

“It’s nothing,” Amy said unconvincingly, taking a bite of a sandwich as if to avoid saying more. Matilda gave her a stern, knowing look. “What do you take me for?” she teased. “I can read you like an open book.”

Amy was taken aback by that comment, thinking of another person who could read her any time he wanted. She swallowed thickly, taking a sip of tea before looking Matilda in the eyes.

“There is something,” she started, not sure of how much she could or should tell the woman. “You see, only.. I was wondering about that very thing.”

Matilda cocked an eyebrow, imploring Amy to continue. “Is it possible to keep someone from looking into your mind?”

Whatever she was expecting to hear from Amy, this was not it. Matilda became defensive of her friend. “Is someone reading your mind, love?” she asked gently, causing Amy to look away.

Matilda read the bashfulness in her friend’s face and decided not to push the issue. “Hypothetically,” she began, “there is something you can do to keep your thoughts from being seen, however,” she fidgeted with the spoon in her teacup, “from what I hear, it is difficult and takes a lot of practice.”

Amy barely repressed the look of disappointment that desperately wanted to cross her features.

Matilda continued. “It’s called Occlumency.”

“Occlumency?”

“Yes. I suppose it’s not something that most people have heard about. Most people would never need to.”

Matilda took a sip of her tea, eyeing her friend curiously.

“You’ll let me know, of course, if there’s something – if someone is bothering you, won’t you?”

Amy let out a nervous laugh. “Bothering” is not how she would categorize it. But still, she appreciated the sentiment. “Of course, Matilda,” she said, clasping the blonde woman’s free hand. “Everything is alright. Thank you.”

Amy felt a bit guilty about not telling the complete truth to her only friend, but she didn’t want to cause any trouble for or with Tom.

No – best to leave Matilda out of any sensitive conversations, since Tom was already on the lookout for memories of her. If Amy wanted to help herself, she was going to have to be a little more creative, so before leaving for the day, Amy found herself perusing a small selection of texts in the maternity ward. She readily found a pamphlet of interest, vaguely entitled Charmwork for the Modern Witch, which contained exactly the information she was looking for regarding contraceptive charms. She didn’t dare bring it home with her, but re-read the relevant passages over and over again until they were firm in her mind and she felt confident that she could remember at least the incantation for the charm.

Feeling a little lighter, Amy tried to put the information to the back of her mind nonetheless before heading home.

------------------------------------------

Amy knew Tom would be furious if he found out that she was taking it upon herself to cast contraceptive charms, so she simply had taken to casting one every day as soon as Tom had left for work. It made her quite nervous during the time between their coupling and the next morning, or sometimes even the course of one or two days if he had time off, but should Tom catch her performing the charm, there was no telling what he would do. Amy had not brought the topic of preventing pregnancy up again because she knew for a fact that if Tom wished to avoid a pregnancy, he would do so. Although she suspected that Tom had no legitimate interest in having another child, the idea of impregnating Amy again seemed to appeal to him. He did bring up the possibility almost every time they had sex, and while part of Amy loved it in the moment, she never missed an opportunity to perform the contraceptive charm when she had her privacy.

Amy also knew that Tom could perform a charm of his own if he really wanted to, but perhaps now that Amy was a witch and had a better idea of what was going on, he wasn’t about to be quite as bold about it as he had been when she’d conceived Victor.

Tom came home late one day when Amy was already in bed. She had spent the day running errands with Victor and had put the boy to sleep before indulging in a hot bath. When Tom came home, he stripped down to his underwear, which was how he preferred to sleep, and crawled over Amy in her slumber. Pulling her close to him, Tom nuzzled her damp hair, which smelled like her orange blossom shampoo. Tom inhaled deeply, feeling himself grow erect as he bathed in Amy’s scent. The girl let out a little moan at having her sleep disturbed, and Tom smiled down at her – warmth in his chest and his groin spreading.

Leaning over, Tom snaked one hand down to the junction of Amy’s thighs, and pressed firmly but gently against her most intimate area, rubbing in broad circles. Amy gasped and her eyes flew open as she subconsciously pressed her pussy against Tom’s palm.

“Feels s’ good,” she moaned in her half-awake daze.

“Does it, darling?” Tom grinned down at her, before going to pull her knickers down.

Amy froze. “Wait!” she cried, reaching down to still his hand. Tom looked at her with a combination of curiosity and irritation. “My.. My courses,” she explained.

Tom withdrew his hand. “So. You’re not pregnant then,” he said, rolling onto his back. It was obvious he was a little bit frustrated with this turn of events.

“No, my lord,” Amy said in a quiet voice.

“Hm,” Tom grunted, gesturing with one hand to his crotch, where Amy could see the outline of his erection quite prominently. Amy knew better than to leave Tom unsatisfied, even if she was currently on her period, she could always bring him off with her mouth. It wasn’t that Tom minded the blood, but Amy minded him seeing it, which he respected.

Hoping to appease him, Amy began to stroke Tom through his underwear, causing him to let out little sighs of pleasure. “More,” he hissed, as Amy ran her thumb over the head of his cock through the fabric, causing wetness to pool there.

Sitting up against the headboard, Tom positioned himself to be able to see Amy clearly as she exposed his manhood to the night air and then immediately took it all the way down her throat. Watching Amy’s pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock always made Tom pulse with arousal.

“That’s it,” he growled, a hand fisting Amy’s hair. “Worship your master’s cock, you little slut.”

Tom’s degrading words went straight to Amy’s pussy, and she desperately wished for stimulation as she swallowed the handsome man’s cock down over and over again. She tentatively reached a hand between her legs.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he mocked, taking hold of Amy’s hand and pinning it to the bed. “Focus on pleasing me.”

Amy did as told, putting all of her energy and attention towards pleasing Tom, loving every delicious sound that came from his mouth as she sucked, licked, and deepthroated him.

She was so focused on pleasing Tom that she didn’t even feel him tickling her mind with his.

“Yes, focus on my dick,” he hissed, pushing Amy’s head down over and over again to fuck her mouth. Despite being quite used to taking Tom’s cock all the way down, him being extra rough with her still made Amy gag a little, and she looked up at Tom with her eyes watering.

“That’s it. Choke on me,” he hissed, forcing her head down as far as it would go, before stilling deep down her throat. Amy thought for sure that Tom was coming, but to her surprise, he ripped his cock from her mouth at the last second, forcing her head back as he pumped his release all over her face and into her hair.

“Only good girls get to swallow my cum,” he panted, red eyes gleaming at the confused girl beneath him.

“Have you been a good girl, Amy?”

Amy flushed, feeling like Tom knew that she had disobeyed his wishes. The look on her face was the impetus Tom needed to take a peek inside her mind. “Open up, darling,” he said in a low voice, before forcing himself into her psyche. Amy cried out in pain as Tom rifled through her thoughts before finding what she had desperately been trying to hide.

“How dare you?” he hissed through gritted teeth before withdrawing abruptly. Before she knew what was happening, Amy was on her back, being pinned down bodily to the bed by Tom Riddle, who had a look of absolute fury in his eyes. Tom had one hand tightly in her hair as he grabbed her nightdress with the other.

“Ow!” Amy cried, and Tom took a moment to collect himself, not wanting to do something too rash. “I think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he spat. “Remember – I own you. Every part of you belongs to me. Including your womb. If I want to impregnate you, you will be grateful for that privilege. Am I understood?”

Amy nodded eagerly, tears streaming down her face. “Please, my lord. You’re hurting me.”

Tom laughed, then released Amy.

“Clean yourself up. You’re filthy.”

Chapter Text

After having discovered what he considered to be Amy’s duplicity, Tom decided to act every bit the aggrieved party and give Amy the silent treatment. For the first day or so of silent treatment, Amy was angry that Tom dared behave like she had wronged him, even though that was exactly how she’d expected him to react. Amy believed she was being entirely reasonable in undertaking measures to prevent pregnancy. While Tom seemed to appreciate Victor, he had never given any indication of wanting another child, and Amy was quite satisfied with just one young child at present. Furthermore, Amy already felt unsafe in her relationship with Tom, and didn’t want to become even more dependent upon him by having another baby.

She loved Tom, but Amy knew that, on a fundamental level, their relationship was an unhealthy one, and she wanted to keep her options open as much as possible.

Amy wondered to herself why she was even trying to justify having some control over her own body. That was absurd. She was a witch, after all, wasn’t she? She wasn’t a powerless teenage orphan anymore, she knew, but sometimes Amy still felt like one.

Amy kept these thoughts to herself as she went about her day-to-day, and by the third day she was sneaking longing glances at Tom from the corner of her eye. He seemed entirely unperturbed the entire time, treating Amy as if she were not there at all. It was very immature, really. At first it was only annoying, but as the days progressed and matters had arisen which bore discussion, Amy had tried to talk to Tom on several occasions only to be thoroughly ignored. Each time it happened, Amy felt as if she’d been slapped across the face, bile rising in her throat as she held back tears.

Finally, Amy couldn’t take it anymore. She approached Tom as he read in his favorite chair, getting to her knees in front of him while clutching at his pant leg pathetically. “Please, my lord,” she whispered, looking at the handsome young wizard imploringly. “Have you really wanted another child so badly?”

A sly half-grin crossed Tom’s face, and he closed his book, setting it down on a side table as he slowly turned his gaze towards the pleading girl. Once again, Tom had Amy exactly where he wanted her. Looking deeply into her eyes, Tom leaned forward. “Whether or not I want a child is not the issue,” he said coldly, stroking the side of Amy’s porcelain face. Confusion crossed her features. “We could have spoken like adults. Instead, you went behind my back and against my wishes. You treated me like a fool.”

Amy felt caught, and flushed a deep red. “I didn’t think you would understand,” she said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t think you would respect--”

Tom let out a chuckle. “Of course I understand, Amy,” he started, uncrossing his legs and leaning closer to her. “I have no desire to have another child.”

“Then what--”

Tom grinned broadly before lowering his lips besides Amy’s head to whisper directly into an ear. “I just wanted to see you pregnant,” he hissed, and Amy felt a chill run through her. “Heavy with my seed..”

Amy felt need blossom deep in her womb at the words. “I think a part of you wants that too, hmm?” Tom said, staring directly into Amy’s eyes. Amy could not hide what he found there, and once again Tom chuckled to himself, bemused.

“Isn’t it true, Amy?” he whispered, running a finger across Amy’s pink pout. “You want to please me, don’t you, darling?”

Amy couldn’t help but let out a little groan. “Yes, my lord,” she whimpered, feeling quite warm and wet between the legs. “Anything for you..”

“That’s a good girl,” Tom smiled, pulling Amy up onto his lap. Amy allowed him to settle her where he wanted before he snaked a hand in between her legs and began to stroke her firmly there.

“Good girls get rewarded,” he purred.

Amy’s body thrummed with pleasure, but she tried to keep ahold of her senses. “I always thought.. this was all because I’m a woman.”

Tom laughed whole-heartedly this time. “Silly girl,” he pressed against her clit harder, rubbing in deliberate circles. “Witches are just as capable as wizards. Except for me, that is.”

“And I..” Amy groaned, thrusting her hips forward to get more contact on her pussy. “I belong to you.”

“Exactly,” Tom said curtly, speeding up his ministrations. “So that’s why, my darling,” he continued, as Amy let out little gasps and moans, “you’re going to floo the hospital tomorrow and tell them you won’t be coming in again.”

Amy’s heart felt like it had sunk to her stomach. All the sudden, what Tom was doing to her stopped feeling good. She had been so close too, but now all her energy was directed towards keeping herself from crying. Sensing the change in her mood, Tom used his other hand to wrench Amy’s head back by the hair. “Understood?” he snarled, and Amy nodded to the best of her ability, tears trickling out of her skewed-shut eyes.

“Good,” Tom said, standing up without warning and unceremoniously dumping Amy to the floor in the process. He let Amy cry to herself for hours as he went about his business.  It was the silent treatment all over again, but worse.  What did Amy expect? Seeking comfort from Tom Riddle was like trying to get blood from a stone.

That night, Tom brazenly performed a conception charm upon on a prone Amy before giving her a thorough fucking. Amy felt a deep sense of dread as he came inside of her. “Remember that you’re mine,” he hissed before kissing her deeply. Amy didn’t resist – she didn’t protest, and did not dare leave his sight that evening even to clean herself up, afraid that he would accuse her of performing a contraceptive charm again. Despite being a witch, Amy felt very much like a helpless little girl in that moment - one who had accepted her fate. Amy belonged to Tom Riddle, most powerful and darkest wizard of the age, and her life would certainly bear that out.

Chapter Text

Amaranth Gaunt was pregnant.

Not me, Amy thought. Her.

Tom had bred Amy shamelessly in the weeks following their argument. He had used the same spell on her that he had used back at Wool’s and it had worked - Amy had missed her courses.

Amy could not put into words how this made her feel, but, obviously, her feelings on the issue did not matter. Tom had gotten what he wanted, and over the next few months, he would watch her belly swell and grow, just as he desired.

As Tom had demanded, Amy had flooed St. Mungo’s and let them know she wouldn’t be coming in. She hadn’t spoken with Matilda since, and was dying to. Matilda was probably searching for her, and sometimes Amy lingered about in Diagon Alley, hoping to be found, but such a chance meeting had not yet occurred.

Amy felt alone. She felt helpless. And she was bored, cooped up all day with a toddler.

But she didn’t sulk. She didn’t complain. Not while Tom was around, at least. Amy let Tom feel her belly. She let him stare at his handiwork. She felt naked and vulnerable every time she noticed his eyes on her little pot belly as he grinned from ear to ear.

About four months into the pregnancy, Amy woke to a sharp pain in her abdomen. She threw the covers off of her legs to find the bedding saturated with blood. “Tom!” she gasped, panting. “Tom, something is wrong!”

Tom looked over at Amy and noticed the state that she was in before he had a chance to get angry at her repeated use of his Christian name.

“Tom.. I think I’m losing the baby.”

Tom rubbed his face in exasperation. Did this have to happen in the middle of the night?

“Take a Wiggenweld and a Blood Replenishing Potion and come back to bed. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

“But Tom…”

“That’s enough, Amy.”

Amy sobbed, gingerly making her way to the small cupboard where the potions were kept. There had been so much blood, and she could feel it running down her legs. She thought she should probably go to St. Mungo’s.

As soon as she’d swallowed the potions, Amy felt a keen pressure in her pelvis and an urge to bear down. She found herself in the bathroom, wailing in the bathtub as she passed the body of what would have been her baby. Of course, the baby was dead. A girl. Her daughter. Amy gazed down at the tiny corpse, eyes full of tears. She wept until she lost consciousness in the bloody bathtub.

--------------

Tom blinked his eyes blearily the next morning. Amy was not next to him in bed, and when he saw the bloody sheets, he remembered the events of the night before.

Tom got up quickly, looking about the house for Amy. He found her in the bathtub, a deathly pallor over her – a gory mess between her spread legs. She looked an inch from death, and Tom panicked. He retrieved an armful of healing potions, one by one tipping the contents into Amy’s slack mouth and down her throat. He cast every healing charm he could think of on her, and he waited.

For once in his life, Tom was worried about another person. He really didn’t know what to do. Should he take her to St. Mungo’s? They’d already lost the baby… No. They would ask too many questions. Maybe he could get help from the neighbor woman – the old muggle. But what could she do that a wizard couldn’t? Tom’s mind raced as he waited.

Tom had fallen asleep on the floor of the bathroom when he heard mournful sobs. Victor.

Tom looked at Amy, as if expecting her to address the situation in her current state. Amy was white as a ghost – as if all the blood had drained from her face. No, Tom thought.

Amy…

He pressed two fingers to Amy’s neck, looking for a pulse. Tom’s breath quickened when not only did he fail to find one, but she was cold to the touch.

No…

In a final desperate attempt, Tom cast Hominem Revelio. Nothing happened. Tom hung his head. Amy was gone. He had killed her.

He hadn’t meant to kill her.

-----------

Tom had never been the nurturing sort. He cast a sleeping charm on Victor to stop the wailing while he figured out what to do.

Amy was dead. There was no use in crying over spilled milk. Amy had been weak, and she’d paid the price. Much like his mother. No – exactly like his mother. He’d known she’d never be a proper witch. Now, to tie up the loose ends.

It was simple enough for Tom to transfigure Amy into a trinket, which he placed on a shelf. Within moments, all traces of blood were gone from the bathroom and bedroom.

He flooed Malfoy Manor.

“Abraxas.”

Abraxas looked disheveled, obviously having just woken up. “How can I be of service, my lord?”

“I have a rather urgent matter for you to attend. I’ll be flooing over momentarily.”

Abraxas looked stunned when Tom stepped through the threshold of his fireplace holding a beautiful, black-haired boy.

“There has been a complication,” Tom said matter-of-factly.

“The girl?”

“I’ve done away with her. Filthy beast.”

Abraxas looked taken aback. He knew Tom was capable of immense cruelty but he also knew that he was rather attached to the girl. He had gone through the effort of making her a witch, after all.

He chose his words carefully. “I see. And the boy?”

“You will find a home for him. Somewhere discrete. A respectable family.”

Abraxas gasped audibly, but nodded in understanding.

“I’ll do my best, my lord,” he said, reaching out to take hold of the young one. “Dobby!”

The elf appeared with a crack, waking Victor, who began sobbing anew.

“We’ve a new guest. Fetch everything needed for a baby and ready a room without delay.”

The house elf disappeared, and when Abraxas turned back to face Tom, he found that he too was gone.

Abraxas sighed.  The baby was hungry and missing his mother, who would never return. When had he become a nursenurse maid? This entire situation was completely unbecoming of a Malfoy.

Now, who did he know was too soft-hearted to turn their back on an orphaned toddler?

“Perhaps… the Potters.”