The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

Chapter XX: The World Will Be Thy Widow

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Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye,
That thou consum'st thy self in single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep
By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind:
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it.
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murd'rous shame commits.
—Shakespeare's Sonnet IX

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"My— my apologies, my lord," Aeliana stammered, attempting to compose herself from whatever temporary madness had overcame her in the form of both her coughing and the idiotic questions. She fell ti her knees in penance. "I don't know what overcame me. I must be falling ill."

Voldemort slid an artic finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes could meet. His lips curled into the most venomous of smiles, possibly meant to be reassuring, but all Lia felt was ice cold terror.

"You need not fear me, Aeliana," he whispered.

She almost had the audacity to scoff at that, despite the ice coating her veins. He didn't want people to fear him? Fear was his brand, for goodness sake! She could find less bullshit on a farm than in that claim.

"You need not fear me," he repeated, placing special emphasis on the first word. "We are similar in many ways, you and I, both hailing from the most reputable of ancestors. Your parents, however, disgraced the name of the illustrious Godric Gryffindor with their cowardice. They feared the war that would ensue with muggles and other lesser creatures, such as trolls and mudbloods, if we tried to assert our natural dominion. You asked why I sought the Sword of Gryffindor? It's because they didn't deserve it, not like I do! I, who am brave enough to challenge the Ministry and the world, am much more befitting such a cherished relic than those blood traitors."

It was far more a trial to keep a neutral, unfettered expression when all she want to do was rip out his intestines with her bare hands and use them to strangle him than one might think. Really, even if Lia couldn't physically kill him, how much harm could he cause people if she ripped off each of his limbs and fed them to sharks? Perhaps he wouldn't be dead, but damn it would be satisfying to cackle as she tossed puréed Voldemort bits to a ravenous herd of mountain lions. In all honesty, he couldn't get much more dead than digested, so even if he technically was alive from his Horcruxes, that really sounded like someone else's problem.

His words about her family sent blood pounding in her ears like a war drum, but not nearly loud enough to cover his insults. Lia was blinded in a sea of rage and it probably took a decade off her life just trying to hold herself back from doing something rash, tempting as her fantasies may have been.

He had some nerve to call her family cowardly! They opposed the most threatening man alive, knowing that it brought them directly into the line of fire. There was far more to courage than the willingness to fight and wage war, but Voldemort would never understand that. Lia may have, at times, doubted her own validity as a Gryffindor, but never, not once, did she ever question her family's placement in the world. When cornered in his own home by Voldemort and a dozen Death Eaters, did her father attempt to flee for his life? Did Caius spend his last moments running away, or did he accept his fate and do his best to prevent Voldemort from becoming even more unkillable? Even her grandfather fought to his last second in hopes that he might save a life. They accepted Death and challenged him on equal terms. If that made them cowardly, then Voldemort and Lia were fluffy rabbits in comparison.