Love Conquers everything

chapter 11

"MY LORD!" she screamed, making all of the Death Eaters stop. She of all people would never scream at the Dark Lord. Voldemort looked at her, his blood freezing. She continued, almost sobbing: "My lord… I'm so sorry."

"What?" he asked, his heart sinking.

"The Prince…" she said as she sank to her knees. The Death Eaters stared at her. Lucius' blood ran cold. Severus' eyes widened. Bellatrix put her hands over her mouth, eyes tearing. The Healer looked up at her lord and whispered: "We… we're losing him."

-o-

Voldemort threw the door open, and the sight that met him made him turn and put a hand over his eyes.

Harry's skin was almost chalk white, his lips slightly blue and his raven hair standing out against the crisp-white sheets. Blood had gathered on the ground around the bed the teen was lying in, and something akin to a Muggle IV was strapped at the back of his left hand. His belly was still round, and his chest rose slightly in small breaths.

Voldemort felt someone catch him as his knees gave away. The potions master whispered soothingly to him as he was led into the room.

"He's in a coma," Tessa whispered to the Dark Lord, her heart breaking as his face twisted and he looked away. "We're giving him nutrition since the baby seems fine but-"

"What happened?" the man interrupted, pushing away from Severus slightly.

"We found him in your office," the woman said. "He had already bled for several minutes."

"When was it?" the man asked, dreading the answer.

"Not long after you left for the raid."

Voldemort went to the bed, managing not to stumble and looked down at his lover.

"It will be another month before we can deliver the child safely," Tessa said. "When that time has passed, and the Prince has not woken up, then…"

"No," Voldemort said. "No; he's going to wake up."

"My lord…" Severus said.

"He will wake up," the Dark Lord whispered, his hand taking Harry's fragile one. "Can we move him?"

"Where to?" the Healer asked.

"Our bedroom."

Tessa knew better than to argue.

"The bleeding has stopped, so as long as we are careful we can move him."

-o-

One week went past. The atmosphere in Riddle Manor was anything but happy. The Death Eaters moved soundlessly around, even though they could shout at the top of their lungs and their lord would not even leave the Prince's side.

"My lord, you must rest," Tessa said. "You won't do him any good if you're dead on your feet, and the Prince would want you well-rested."

Voldemort let her words pass right through him and turned away his head slightly. She sighed and looked at the lovers' linked hands. The teen's fragile and white one clasped in the bigger and stronger one.