They ventured quietly into the room. It was dark and solemn, light by a strange nondescript hue in the center. The light source was unidentifiable. It caught on the top edge of a throne like chair and Harry could hear Gwen mutter: doesn't travel far without his throne, does he?
He nearly laughed to hear her talking so, but he feared it would give them away to whatever was facing the back wall. They hadn't been seen or sensed so far and he didn't want to be the one to ruin it.
It didn't matter. A high cold voice curled out of the void, from the other side of the chair. "Wormtail, could you please greet our guests and bring them here."
Harry and Gwen could see a short, lumbering figure cross through the light patch and come to rest in front of them. "You'll want to come without a fight." He said in a nervous undertone, extending his hand to collect their wands.
"That will be quite all right Wormtail." The cold voice spoke again. "You may leave them as they are."
Peter Pettigrew had not doubted his master's judgment to his face before and this would not be the first time he would do so. He kept his peace while Harry and Gwen followed him to the other side of the chair.
Sitting there, almost bored, the Dark Lord was cloaked, the edges of the hood hiding his hideously snake-like visage. Gwen was relieved she wouldn't have to look at him. Harry remained quiet at her side, waiting for the snake to speak.
He took his time, waiting calmly and coolly for there were no two people in the world he wanted to torture more than these two. Here was the Boy Who Lived and by his side, the girl who had brought him this prize.
"Well done my dear." He said finally, directing his gaze towards Gwen. She felt the cold wash over her.
"What is well done?" She snapped, breaking the thin surface of ice that had settled over her. The chill was replaced by a furnace of anger and heat was radiating from her in waves.
"You have brought me Harry Potter. I could not have asked for better."
"I didn't."
"You did. He followed you here. So you brought him to me. I am very proud."
"It can't be true."
"But it is my dear." He said, using the familiarity again that froze her blood "And what will you do?"
"I'm going to end this."
"You'd kill your grandfather?" He said, dropping all pretense.
The breath had been stolen from her lungs and a lifetime of memories hurled themselves into her chest, burning her scar. She feel to her knees, curled into a ball and closed her eyes to the burning sensation filling her limbs.
"You didn't have any children." She said, struggling to speak, trying for the last time in her life to deny the truth.
"It's fairly easy to father a bastard in this day and age Guenivere. I would've thought you'd have known that much."
His words sliced through the fragile protection she had built around herself. "I don't care that I'm a bastard." She spat back, using the last of her strength to glare at him.
"No, you wouldn't." He said coldly. "But now is the time to acknowledge that you are indeed my granddaughter and that my bastard son Jeremiah helped to bring you into this world."
"So you let everyone believe you were the last?" Harry's voice rang through the great room with strength he was unaware he possessed.
"Ah, Mr. Potter has come to join the conversation." Voldemort sent him a particularly scathing look, but Harry had long since mastered the art of Occlumency and he blocked his mind from any possible emotional intrusion. "Very good Mr. Potter. I see Mr. Snape's lessons have not come in vain. I should perhaps, have killed that one when I had the chance to. There's always tomorrow."
"There is no tomorrow for you." Gwen interrupted from the floor. She was clutching her chest again, as trying to keep her heart from flying out of it.
There was a deadly stalemate of stares passed all around the room when a loud crashing noise resounded from the door.