*Third person POV* 

A group of solemn, miserable people sat around a long kitchen table, glasses of Firewhiskey more than half empty, plates of toast and bacon untouched. 

Harry sat in between Ron and Hermione, with Kylie beside Hermione, leaning her head on the bushy-haired girl's shoulder. Harry scowled across the table at the others; Fred and George, Terry, Lee, and Dean. Sirius and Emily looked between the two groups, uneasy with the tension. 

But Harry didn't care if anyone else felt uncomfortable. If it hadn't been for his sister's stupid friends, she'd have been here safe with him right now. They allowed her to leave, went with her, and said the Taboo out in the middle of nowhere with no protection. At least if they'd said the Taboo in here, in Grimmauld Place, the Snatchers wouldn't have been able to get in, due to the Fidelius. 

And now she was with Riddle. He was probably violating her as they sat there, torturing her, chaining her down and destroying her, and there was nothing they could do about it. They'd tried to get into Hogwarts. They'd tried to break in to save her, every day since she'd been taken. But they had been foiled every time. 

And Terry, on the other side of the table, slumped down further in his seat as he watched Fred drain his glass of Firewhiskey. He felt guilt like no other. If it hadn't been for him saying 'Voldemort,' Daisy wouldn't have fallen into the hands of Riddle. His best friend was probably being forced to carry Riddle's baby right now, and it was all his fault. 

Terry watched Fred pour another glass of Firewhiskey, eye up the glass, then put the bottle to his lips instead, taking a long swig. The guilt inside Terry rose up, threatening to force tears out of his eyes, as he watched one of his best friends destroy himself with the alcohol. He did this. He did this to his best friends.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and everyone at the table sat up. However, they all sagged back as they saw that it was only Lupin, alone. But something had changed on Lupin's face, and Sirius and Emily spotted this, leaning forward. 

"What is it?" Sirius said immediately. 

"What've you found?" Emily urged. 

"The Death Eaters are divided." Lupin hurried into the room, dumping his satchel onto the table and turning to face the others. "There is a lot of infighting right now. Voldemort's went on a rampage, several who were previously high up in his ranks have been killed by him." 

"What? Why?" Sirius asked. "What's happened?" 

"It's something to do with Daisy." Lupin said, and those in the room who had previously seemed disinterested leaned forward, their full attention on him now. "That's all I know. Even if I hadn't found that out, it would have been obvious. It was clearly a killing spree motivated by an obsessive possessiveness." 

"Did something happen to her?" Terry was on his feet, his hands clenching the edge of the table. His voice was strained but loud. "Did - is she -?" 

"I honestly don't know, Terry." Lupin said wearily. "All I know for certain is that she isn't dead. Because if she was, it would be broadcasted widely by the Death Eaters, and Voldemort would most likely have pioneered a much worse rampage than this." 

"But this is still good, you guys." Emily said, her voice wavering. "They're divided. Their own leader is turning against them. They're all turning against each OTHER, by the sounds of it - right?" 

She turned to Lupin, who nodded. 

"Yes; this division and infighting is exactly what we need right now. They're distracted, they're not united. While the Order remains focused, and united." 

Harry was staring at the wall opposite, his jaw clenched. Terry glanced at the twins; George was chewing on his thumbnail anxiously, his eyebrows furrowed, and Fred was raising the bottle of Firewhiskey to his lips again. 

And, head full of the worst case scenarios that could have happened to Daisy, Terry reached for the bottle once Fred had lowered it. 

~~~ 

*Daisy's POV* 

I lay curled up on the bed, on top of the heap of black fluffy towels that Tom had brought from the bathroom. I looked down into my lap as he approached with the steaming goblet of potion, a surprisingly tender look on his face as he set it onto the bedside table and sat beside me. 

The expression didn't look natural on his face, but it made me feel a little better. His eyes had been flickering back to brown at points, days after he'd rescued me, and now he was gazing at me with those deep, handsome eyes, no trace of red in sight. 

"Are you ready, my love?" Tom said quietly. 

"W-why are you doing this?" I raised my head, frowning at him. "I thought you - you w-wanted me to g-g-get pregnant..." 

Tom stared at me for a moment, before shifting closer on the bed. "While I would love nothing more than for you to carry my child... I no longer solely care about this issue. If you do not want to be pregnant, I will not force you." 

I felt my jaw drop. Despite the numb state I had been in since what had happened, I felt slightly shocked. Was that not Tom's whole reason for being obsessed with me in the first place? Impregnating me so that he could have a half-him, half-angel baby? 

And now he's saying that he doesn't care about that anymore. So what's his motive now? 

"And I assume you do not want to have this baby. While it may be mine, it also may be anyone else's. Maybe even the demon's." I could hear the scowl in Tom's voice. "So I would advise you to get rid of it. Though it is your choice, of course." 

"Yeah, I don't want it." I said quickly. "G-give me the -" 

Tom handed me the goblet. The anti-fetus potion within steamed, reminding me forcefully of Amortentia. I gave a dry chuckle at the thought; even if Tom had sneaked some in, it would have absolutely zero effect on me. I already loved him. I fucking loved him. 

I drained the goblet and settled up on my pillows and towels, preparing myself for the pain I knew would come. A moment later, a painful twinge went off in the pit of my stomach, and I made a pained noise. Tom climbed up beside me, extending his arms, and I flinched violently. 

"Shh... it is just me." Tom murmured as I relaxed, shaking my head at myself for my over-the-top reaction. "I am not going to hurt you." 

The pain burned inside me, and I whimpered, drawing my knees up to my chest. Tom wrapped his arms around me, and I melted into him, shivering. "Tom... Tommy... make it stop, please... make the hurt go away..." 

"I cannot, my love... I am so sorry." Tom said, cradling me. "It has to be this way. I cannot heal you, or the potion will not work." 

"Please..." I pleaded softly, my eyes welling up as my abdomen twisted in intense pain. 

Something flickered in Tom's eyes, and he reached for his wand. "I suppose I can try a numbing spell... hold on, my love..." 

I sobbed as Tom traced his wand over my tummy, murmuring words. The pain lessened considerably as I trembled in his arms, gazing up at his face as he concentrated, his eyebrows narrowing slightly, his eyes moving across my body, following the path of his wand. I gazed at his dark eyes, his hollow cheekbones, his pink lips, his sharp jawline... 

His wand grazed a ticklish spot on my tummy, and I jumped. Mistaking this for a flinch, Tom drew me in tighter to him, resting his head on top of mine. 

"Shh... I am not going to hurt you, my love." His thumb traced slowly, affectionately, across my cheek. "I promise..." 

And I found that the anti-fetus potion hurt no more after that. 

~~~ 

Over the next few days, it was as if I was witnessing a miracle. Tom Riddle seemed to be changing in ways no one could have ever foreseen. He was managing my trauma and recovery like both a professional and a loved one combined. He seemed to know how exactly to treat me to help me come to terms with what happened and recover. 

Every day, Tom would take me on long walks around the lake when the students were in class, and some days I'd talk about what was on my mind and he'd listen, and others we'd walk in comfortable silence. He'd sit me down by the fireplace after and bring me food, and we'd eat on the little rug as I snuggled into him. At night we'd cuddle in bed for a while before we slipped off to sleep, with Tom whispering calm, sweet reassurances into my ear as he traced his fingers soothingly over my skin. 

But even if I didn't want to be touched, and this happened quite often, Tom would respect this. As soon as I showed it in my body language, he'd back off and leave me alone. It meant more to me than I cared to admit; I didn't want to voice it sometimes because I felt like I was being overdramatic or an inconvenience, but Tom never seemed to see it that way. 

"Daisy! My love! Daisy!" 

I jerked awake, blinking furiously as I relaxed back down into the bedsheets. I'd been flailing around, clearly; I forced the visions of Floppy, naked, on top of me to the back of my mind. 

Tom was hovering above me, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you all right?" 

"I-I'm fine -" I shook my head, my cheeks flaming in embarrassment that I'd woken him up because of a stupid nightmare. 

Tom stared deep into my eyes, and I sighed as I felt him rooting around in my head for the last remaining shreds of the nightmare that I was now quickly forgetting. He withdrew after a moment, his eyes narrowing. 

"Are you sure you have no idea of where he could be, my love?" Tom said viciously. "I would like to keep him alive while I remove each and every part of him that can be detached. I want his death to be slow and painful." 

"No idea, sorry, Tommy." I squeaked, shuddering. I could only imagine what Tom would do to Floppy once he found him. I only wished I could help... 

Tom's eyes widened slightly. "You wish to aid me in the destruction of the demon, my love?" 

"Maybe I do." I said, slowly, cautiously. "I've hated him since I was eleven. He first sexually assaulted me when I was thirteen. And now he's actually raped me. He's had it coming to him for years." 

Tom nodded solemnly. "Get some rest. I will start to train you in the morning." 

I had been too tired to really question him on what he meant by this, and had faded away into more uneasy dreams. But when I woke up, it was to Tom ordering me into his office after breakfast. 

"I have practised this extensively, ever since I first borrowed some of your Grace." Tom told me as he guided me into the centre of the room. "Many different uses of this Grace, all with the same technique. You do not need to get emotional to use it. You just need to mirror the emotion. Then it will come naturally to you." 

What is he on about? 

Tom rolled his eyes. "If you would just listen to me, Daisy. Do you remember every large burst of energy from your Grace?" 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"They were all due to high emotions, were they not?" 

I pondered. When Floppy had been bending me over the desk in that empty classroom... when Tom had been trying to hurt me and my friends in the gardens of Floppy's manor... when I thought Terry was dead... 

"I guess." I said quietly. Why hadn't my Grace come out to defend me when Floppy had actually succeeded in raping me? 

But deep down, I already knew the answer to that. I hadn't been powered by anger like every other time I'd blasted him off me; I'd been paralysed by pure terror. 

"Well, my love. You are going to need to feel an intense emotion. You are going to need to focus on the feeling of this emotion, and not let it overpower you. Then you are going to need to separate the feeling from the emotion, and channel your Grace into this feeling; you do not need to know how, it will happen naturally." 

"But -" I started. 

But Tom was moving towards me, a little smirk playing on his lips. His hands reached out; his fingers traced my hips gently, and goosebumps rose on my skin wherever he touched. He leaned down; his breath fanned across my lips, his lips were hovering just above mine, my heart was nearly beating out of my chest. This was the closest his mouth had been to mine since before Floppy took me.

"I love you..." 

His lips enveloped mine. His hands moved up, and I felt him dip me, one hand cradling my neck. My heart nearly exploded out of my chest as I melted into him, the combination of his passionate kiss and his confession of love making me swell inside. 

And as I opened my eyes, I gasped against his lips. I hadn't even realised that both of us were glowing a soft pink. 

I drew back from him more to admire the effects, and my eyes widened as a stream of purple and red butterflies fluttered from below us. Tom was watching me with a mixture of pride and triumph. 

"Well done, my love..."