The chamber in the Department of Mysteries was deathly quiet, the hum of ancient magic lingering in the air. Astra Potter stood amidst the chaos, wand loosely gripped at her side, her dark green eyes glowing faintly as she glared at the figure before her.
Lord Voldemort.
His pale lips curled into a cruel smile, his crimson eyes fixed on her like a predator savouring its prey. The mark on Astra’s wrist burned faintly beneath her sleeve, but she refused to glance at it. The truth of their bond was a poison she had no choice but to swallow.
“Well, well,” Voldemort drawled, his voice silky smooth and thick with mockery. “Fate has a twisted sense of humour, hasn’t it? Who would have thought the great Astra Potter, my equal, my other half.”
Astra snorted, crossing her arms. “Equal? Don’t flatter yourself, Riddle. This bond doesn’t make us equals. It just makes me the universe’s punching bag.”
Voldemort’s smirk widened, and he took a slow step forward, his movements predatory yet oddly graceful. “Oh, but you must see it, Astra. This changes everything. You and I tied together, inseparable. Don’t you understand what this means? I’ve already won.”
“Won what, exactly?” Astra tilted her head, her expression bored. “A lifetime of rejection? Congrats, Riddle, you’re now the proud owner of an enemy who gets free rent in your head.”
He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. “You mistake me, my dear. I don’t see this as a burden it’s a gift. You and I are bound by destiny. Together, we are unstoppable.”
“Right. Because Destiny just loves pairing me with homicidal maniacs. What’s next, matching socks with Bellatrix? A family picnic with Fenrir Greyback?”
His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, his gaze narrowing. “Such sharp wit, Astra. You amuse me. But I wonder… how long will you cling to your defiance before you realize that resistance is futile?”
“Depends,” she said with a shrug. “How long can you keep pretending that I don’t make your skin crawl? Be honest, Riddle, does it kill you that fate tied you to a half-blood?”
Voldemort’s jaw tightened, his fingers twitching around his wand, but he quickly replaced the anger with a cold, calculating smile. “You underestimate me, my dear. I see the potential in this… arrangement. Together, we could reshape the wizarding world. You, by my side, as my queen.”
“Queen?” Astra barked out a laugh. “Hard pass. I’m more of an independent rulerkind of gal. But thanks for the offer, Your Highness.”
He stepped closer, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. “You pretend to be unaffected, but I see through you. This bond has already begun to work its magic. Can’t you feel it? The pull, the connection? You’re already drawn to me.”
“Yeah, like I’m drawn to migraines and bad ideas,” Astra shot back, her smirk growing. “Don’t flatter yourself, Riddle. You’re about as appealing as a dementor in swim trunks.”
Voldemort blinked, his expression briefly betraying his confusion at her absurd comparison. Then, he laughed a deep, cold sound that sent goosebumps across her skin. “You are insufferable, Astra Potter. But I find myself… entertained.”
“Glad I could bring some joy to your miserable existence,” she quipped, rolling her eyes.
He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her stomach churn. “You’ll come around,” he said softly, almost tenderly. “The bond ensures it. You may fight it, joke about it, but in the end, you are mine.”
Her smile faded slightly, her green eyes hardening. She took a step closer, standing mere feet from him now. “Let me make something clear, Riddle. This bond doesn’t mean I belong to you. It doesn’t mean you control me. If anything, it’s proof that the universe has a twisted sense of humour and if you think I’m just going to fall in line, you’re dumber than you look.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension crackling like lightning between them. Voldemort’s smile returned, smaller but no less dangerous.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Astra.”
“Good,” she said, her voice low and steady. “I like games. And I’m very good at winning.”
She turned her back on him, walking toward the exit with deliberate, measured steps.
Just as she reached the doorway, a new voice rang out behind them, calm and commanding.
“You shouldn’t have come here, Tom.”
Astra froze, groaning internally as she recognized the voice. She turned to see Albus Dumbledore stepping into the chamber, his piercing blue eyes flicking between her and Voldemort.
“Ah, Dumbledore,” Voldemort said smoothly, his tone laced with mockery. “How predictable. Always the self-appointed saviour.”
Astra rolled her eyes. “Great. Now it’s a party.”
Dumbledore’s gaze landed on her, a mixture of confusion and concern etched onto his face. “Miss Potter, are you unharmed?”
“Oh, I’m peachy,” Astra said dryly. “Just had a lovely chat with the universe’s worst matchmaking service.”
Dumbledore frowned, clearly baffled. “What are you..”
“She’s mine, Albus,” Voldemort interrupted, his voice dripping with possessive triumph. “The bond has been chosen, and there is nothing you can do to change it.”
Astra threw her hands up. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Riddle! Stop saying it like you’ve just won the Quidditch Cup. This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ve met Dolores Umbridge.”
Dumbledore blinked, clearly at a loss. “Bond? What is the meaning of this?”
Voldemort smirked, ignoring him entirely, his gaze fixed on Astra. “This is far from over, my dear. You’ll see.”
With a flourish of his robes, he vanished into a cloud of smoke, leaving Dumbledore standing in stunned silence and Astra muttering under her breath.
Dumbledore finally found his voice. “Miss Potter… what just happened?”
Astra sighed, rubbing her temple. “Long story short? Fate decided to ruin my life. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a stiff drink and a very long nap.”
And with that, she walked away, leaving Dumbledore standing amidst the chaos, utterly bewildered.