It was white, and it was cold. Where was he?

The last thing he knew he had tried to kill the Potter boy…

Dead.

He was dead, wasn't he? After all he had gone through, all he had worked for, he was dead. He was thwarted by a mere boy. Again.

He screamed out with rage and fury until his whole body shook. And then he stood up. No use lying down when you're dead.

Now he realized that it was a heavy fog that surrounded him, and he was in a field of some sort.

Someone was coming. Whoever it was, was walking very quickly and very purposefully towards him.

He started to make out the features of a woman. His eyes traveled from her toned, sleek legs to her curvy hips. Slowly they slid up to her ample bust, and finally to her face.

It was Bellatrix. He had never looked at her like that before. He had never noticed what a woman she really was. Actually, he had never noticed any woman, really.

"My Lord," she crooned, dropping to the ground by his feet.

He lifted up her chin with one of his long, white fingers. Her usually cold, hard eyes were filled with passion.

His thoughts flew back to when he saw her fall. She had been with him up until her last breath. The pain he had felt. The rage. It was incomprehensible.

"You served me well." he said, dropping his finger from her chin. He was ashamed. Ashamed of how weak she had made him.

He turned abruptly, and started away from her.

"My Lord, wait!" she pleaded. She did not want it to end like this.

He wanted to keep walking, to get away from the thing that had made him so vulnerable. But something made him turn back.

"Yes?" he hissed at her.

"My Lord, I am your servant. Your faithful servant. Let me serve you."

The seductiveness of her words hit him in a way he didn't think possible. He surprised himself by saying, "It is your duty."

Death made you do unnatural things.

A cunning smile formed on her lips. She rose up from her position on the ground and roughly threw herself at him. Her lips met his in a violently passionate kiss.

Suddenly it wasn't so cold anymore.

She broke away from him, panting. A ferocious, hungry look was in her eyes. A look that probably mirrored his own.

"Serving you well enough, Master?" she asked coyly.

"You can do better."

He always had wanted her. And he knew she always wanted him. She tried to hide it from him, but he had penetrated her mind…

And now she pushed him down. She wrapped her legs around him and met his mouth once again. Her tongue met his. Violently, she overpowered it.

He gave in. She was too good at this. The feel of her body against his was wonderful. Except, pesky clothes were in the way.

He reached up and tried unzipping the back of her dress. She stopped and looked at him devilishly, pulling his arm off her.

"You are the Master. I am the slave. I do everything for you." She whispered seductively.

For once she had the power. He was completely and totally hers.

She stripped him down. The wet grass should've been cold. But it was hot. So hot. Was it even possible to be this hot?

Now she straddled him again, him totally undressed, while she remained fully clothed. Why must she torture him so?

She ran her long fingernails down his cheek. Pain. It felt good. She then slid her hands down his chest, her nails digging into his skin. Farther and farther she dragged them down. Then she stopped right at his groin.

"Please," he moaned. And she smiled. She had her own master begging her. After all, she loved playing with her food. Torturing just so happened to be her forte.

She got up, triumphant. His eyes widened. He wanted her, unbelievably badly…and she was leaving?

The look on her face taunted him. She had won.

"So you're the Devil?" he asked her. So he was in Hell.

"No. But damn close to it, my Lord." She drawled out the last two words, teasing him.

"Where are we?" He was confused. Very confused.

"The Forbidden Forest. It was only you and me left. I thought it was time to make an escape."

His hand rose to his heart. And it was beating.

He wasn't dead.