Lord Voldemort smirked down at the girl at his feet in amusement. He was used to women and men fainting at the sight of him, but he could honestly say he had never expected such from Potter. She really didn't seem like the fainting type.

The aristocratic looking man glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he flicked his wand and levitated the girl into his new house, ignoring the now inedible pie that was smashed on his doorstep. He contemplated just leaving her on the floor until she woke, seeing as how he had yet to actually purchase furniture besides two reading chairs, mainly so he had somewhere to sit, but knew she would give him a headache for it should she wake up down there. It wasn't worth the pain.

With a put-upon sigh, the man sat Ava down and went about transfiguring a couch out of one of the chairs. He then proceeded to place the girl down on it before seating himself in the other.

Voldemort leaned back in an elegantly relaxed manner and narrowed his eyes at the sleeping visage of his once enemy. Looking at the girl, it was obvious that she was far from healthy. She was stick thin and had dark circles under her eyes. She was wearing a ripped, stained, and threadbare t-shirt that practically swallowed her tiny frame. Her jeans were just as bad, if not worse and clearly used to belong to a male many times her weight. Her thin, pale arms were covered in bruises and jagged scars and if he had to guess, he'd say the rest of her body probably wasn't any better. And that hideous piece of cloth that was still haphazardly wrapped around her neck...

With careful movements, so he wouldn't wake her up, Voldemort slid the cloth from around her throat and dropped it on the floor. He reared back with slightly wide eyes at the sight that met him. Thick, dark bruises circled the entirety of her neck in the shape of hands. Big hands. Someone had strangled the girl.

Anger sparked through the Dark Lord with a ferocity that surprised him. He had been suspicious that she was being abused, or at least horrendously neglected, but this... How had no one noticed this? It was impossible to miss.

Voldemort tore his eyes from the discolored skin and glanced out of his window to the house across the street. Even from there he could see a horse-faced muggle looking out the window and spying on the neighbors. Maybe I should go and pay them a...neighborly visit. He thought while absentmindedly twirling his wand. Maybe introduce myself and teach them how to treat my things. And Ava Potter was his. The girl herself may disagree, but he had a claim on her ever since that blasted prophecy came out. At first, she was his to kill, now she was his to keep.

She was the only one to escape from him, multiple times and with few injuries to show for it. She was the only one that could match him in wit and power. She didn't fear him or revere him. He would not allow others to get away with hurting her.

Movement from the make-shift couch pulled him from his murderous thoughts and brought his attention back to the girl. Her eyes were fluttering as she fought for consciousness and she shifted slightly before opening her poisonous green eyes in confusion.

Ava Potter

Ava fought back a groan as she slowly regained consciousness and wondered confusedly why she was unconscious in the first place. She didn't feel any new injuries that would explain it and for some reason it felt like she was laying on a cloud.

Forcing her eyes open, Ava was greeted with an off-white ceiling that greatly resembled the living room ceiling of her relative's house. She knew it wasn't the same ceiling though, as there was a cobweb in the left corner. Her aunt would never stand for such a thing.

Which begged the question, where was she? And why was she unconscious there?

That's when she remembered going to the new neighbor's house with a pie to invite them to her aunt's tea. She also remembered the man that had opened the door and suddenly had the urge to jump off of a cliff. She had fainted in front of Voldemort! Oh, he was never going to let her live this down.

Slowly, the girl turned her head and met the brownish-red eyes of the man that did not look very happy. She wondered, for a moment, what had his knickers in a twist, before she noticed him glancing at her neck and his expression tightening.

With a jolt, her hand flew up to meet her bruised skin that was scarf free and she grimaced. Well, looks like the cat's out of the bag now. No way to explain away bruises in the shape of hand-prints.

"Is there a reason you bought a house in a muggle neighborhood?" Her voice was whispery and hoarse, which just made her grimace more. She wouldn't be able to distract him from unwanted questions when her very voice reminded him of her injuries.

"Is there a reason you look to be on your death-bed?" He threw back in smooth drawl and a raised eyebrow.

Ava sniffed in derision and said, "It's not considered polite to comment on a Lady's looks you know."

The Dark Lord smirked mockingly and said, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm in the presence of a Lady."

Ava huffed in amusement, then grimaced while rubbing at her neck, "Don't make me laugh, it hurts."

"Explain this, Potter." He demanded, gesturing to her visible injuries.

The dark-haired girl crossed her arms defiantly after sitting up and said, "I don't think that is any of your business, Tom." She knew he would hate to hear his given name and she was hopping his temper would make him forget his questions. It was a long shot, and risky with him being a curse-happy Dark Lord, but she was stubborn enough to try and keep her secrets.

The stinging hex that hit her thigh made her jump with a squeak and look at the man with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Do not use that name girl. And answer me!" His eyes were more red than brown at that point, but he was holding onto his anger remarkably well. Ava had been expecting a crusio at least, not a stinging hex. That was nearly as bad as spanking her!

"My relatives don't exactly care for me. You know that." She grumbled, fighting off embarrassment.

"They physically abuse you." It was a statement, but Ava knew he was looking for confirmation as well. Why he wanted her to admit it, when he knew the truth, was beyond her.

"For as long as I can remember, they have abused me." She had to fight off a flush of shame. She had nothing to be ashamed about, she knew that, but admitting to the Dark Lord that she was weak against muggles made her cringe. She didn't want him to think she was pathetic.

"I could kill them for you." He spoke casually, but there was a hopeful look on his face.

Ava startled at the suggestion. She would freely admit to fantasizing about killing her relatives, sometimes she'd even dream of how many ways she could torture them before they died. Sicking Lord Voldemort on them had never even crossed her mind.

The offer was tempting, oh, so tempting. The Potter heiress knew that the Dark Lord would know many more ways to make them feel pain than she did. But she wanted the satisfaction of ending their miserable lives herself, which meant waiting another year for the Trace to be gone.

"I'd rather you didn't." The older man must have seen something in her face because instead of arguing, like she half expected he wanted to, he just nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Then you will stay here." He said in tone that warned her not to argue.

She did anyway.

"I can't stay here! The order would notice and I really don't want to have to explain to Dumbledore why I'm not 'safe' at my relative's house." She exclaimed.

The Dark Lord sneered at the mention of the old fool and said, "If they haven't noticed you looking like an inferi, then they won't notice you staying across the street."

"My relatives won't stay quiet about it. They rely on my slave labor."

He just casually waved his wand with a smirk, "Magic, My Dear. They won't say a thing."

Ava couldn't really refute that. She wasn't sure why she was arguing so hard against this anyway. A summer away from them was like a dream to her.

"Why do you care if I stay there or here? Why are you even here in the first place?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I'm here because I'm bored, my minions are useless, and you are entertaining. As for why I care...you are mine Ava Potter. Only I'm allowed to damage you in any way." He spoke the last part in a dangerous whisper and Ava felt a shiver run down her spine. To her shame, it wasn't from fear.

"Excuse me? I am not a possession!" She tried to express outrage, but confusion was what came through.

"Not a possession. But you are mine." His voice was firm and his completely red eyes captured her own with the intensity of his stare.

"I..." Ava had to shake herself out of the daze that his look had put her in before she huffed and said almost petulantly, "Then you're mine."

Suddenly the Dark Lord was in her space, leaning over her as she leaned back into the cushions in surprise. His face was inches from her own and she, once again, found herself captivated by his red irises.

"Is that what you want, Ava? For me to be yours?" His voice was soft and silky with all the deceptiveness of a snake in disguise.

Ava found herself answering automatically and without much thought as his slightly spicy scent invaded her nostrils, "Yes."

With a growl, the man pulled her firmly to him and kissed her hard on the mouth. His lips were soft and his tongue expertly plunged into her mouth when she gasped at his unexpected move. It took Ava's brain a moment to restart after the sudden thought of, Lord Voldemort is kissing me. When it did, the girl curled her fingers into the front of his dark green, button up shirt and she kissed him back as best as she could.

When he finally pulled back, a pleased smirk graced his handsome face at the sight of her ruffled hair, kiss swollen lips, and lust glazed eyes. She was breathing heavily and nearly whined when he pulled away.

"Then you are mine, and I am yours. No one will ever lay a hand on you again." He whispered and tenderly stroked her face.

Ava blinked slightly in wonder at the affectionate touch. Did he really mean that? She had never given much thought about being in a relationship with anyone. That had even been her first kiss. Most boys around her age were just too immature for her to deal with and with how the war had been going, she hadn't expected to live long enough to even contemplate finding a romantic interest. She knew being with Voldemort, of all people, would be hard, but she even surprised herself with how willing she was to try.

"Fine, I'll stay here." She said, unsure what else to say, really. She was a bit out of her comfort zone.

"Good. Let's go get your things and mess with your relative's minds." His grin was vicious.

Ava giggled and got up to head for the door, before looking over her shoulder and saying with a teasing smile, "You know, for an old man, you're a pretty decent kisser."

She squealed as a stinging hex hit her backside as she ran out the door and the Dark Lord shook his head with a small fond smile. "Brat."