Know That I Can't

Know That I Can't

Chapter Seven

By Michelle Malfoy

Draco's POV

An owl swooped onto my desk and I picked it up cautiously, knowing from the bloodstains on the enevelope that whatever the news inside - unless, of course, the letter had been sent to inform me of my father's death, in which case I would be nothing short of delighted - it would not be good. And I was correct.

Draco -

As you are undoubtedly aware, your beloved Angel is here, at the mercy of my Master and me. She has already been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse and we will only be too happy to do so again. Additionally, should you tell anyone of her disappearance - aside from a fabrication of the truth, such as a story saying that she is ill and needed immediate care - the last part of that statement, the fact that she may need immediate care, will not be far off. Make no mistake, Draco, that she is completely at our mercy and we will not hesitate to take advantage of that fact, should it be necessary.

Your father,
Lucius Malfoy

I looked at the letter, splattered with my daughter's blood, and gasped in horror. As I turned the paper over, I recognized a Videor charm - that which would show exactly what was happening to my daughter. And I knew that, from the triumphant, conquering expression on my bastard of a father's face, he had done something awful to her, and I couldn't imagine what it might have been. But all of a sudden I knew that, if given the change, I would kill my father. And I would enjoy it.

Angel's POV

I woke to a bright light and the feeling of something pressed tightly in my hand. I looked down to see what it was, but whatever had been there - for I knew that something had been there - was no longer. "Ah, Angel," came my grandfather's voice, and I found myself wishing that I had stayed asleep, where I could not be harmed. "You're awake."

"Way to state the obvious," I said dryly, sitting up in the luxurious bed I had slept in. The look of glee on the bastard's face caused me to check the other side of the bed and, to my relief, the covers still lay perfectly flat. Then I wondered whether that was natural, since I had, after all, been having a horrific nightmare - the details had slipped by me upon my awakening - and had probably been tossing and turning in my sleep.

"Oh, don't worry about the bed," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "You fell asleep on the floor, and Plimsu just brought you over here." He indicated a quivering house-elf in the corner. "Just stay here for awhile, all right?" I saw a glimmer of silver or something remarkably like it in his hand a moment before he pocketed it. "Oh, and I almost forgot. You'll have... visitors."

And with that, he shut the door.

***

Still Angel's POV

Dark-robed, cloaked, masked figures rushed by me, tidying up the rooms and muttering my name. I could've sworn I heard the words "Weasley," "Ginny," "Draco," and "slut" in the same sentence, and found myself shaking with anger and hatred for these awful people. Just then, however, as if in answer to my thoughts, I saw a familiar face above me.

Venenum Acerbus.

"Ven," I whispered, jolting up in my bed and meeting ice-cold green eyes. "Ven, did they get you too - ?" I asked, worried.

"No," he said with a bark of harsh laughter. "No. Not by force."

My concerned expression faded as he closed those gorgeous eyes and sighed. "Angel, you do know why you're here, don't you?" he asked, and I could tell that he really didn't want to be telling me this.

"No," I said, surprised that he would know.

"Well, it's really complicated. See, it's the Crystalline Diamond--"

He was cut off by my grandfather's cold voice. "Venenum!" he snapped, and Ven scurried to the corner of the room. "How dare you communicate with the prisoner, you should know better..."

I watched in horror as Ven knelt down and kissed that bastard's overtly-polished leather shoes. "Forgive me, Mr. Malfoy," he murmured.

"Get up," came a colder voice from next to my oh-so-wonderful grandfather. It was Voldemort, I realized. "Acerbus, I said get up. And you, Miss Malfoy." I insolently rose to my feet and, unlike Ven, did not bow my head. "Ah," he said, lifting my chin with two fingers. "Pride, I see, and that spark her father did not develop until so late in his life... Lucius, this girl will be very difficult... but she is necessary..."

"For what?" I asked. "What do you need me for? If you're going to use me against my father - "

But I broke off, for a chilling voice had just awoken in the back of my brain. "Your father," it sneered. "Do you really think he's looking for you? Do you think he's going to come and save you like he did all those other times, like he did when you fell off your broom and when Katharine was bullying you? Think again. He's forgotten about you, and he's too scared to face all those 'horrors' in the world just to come chasing after you. Forget it."

I don't know why I listened, but I did. I believed it to be true, that Father really had forgotten about me, either that or he was too scared to rescue me.

And I guess I missed that look of triumph on Voldemort's face when I inclined my head.

Voldemort's POV

I suppose one could accurately say that I pride myself on my Legillimency. Not only that, but I pride myself on another skill that goes hand-in-hand with the Legillimens curse. I remember when I first discovered it, when I first created it. No, it hadn't been around before I decided there was a need for it, and I invented it. It was one of my most ingenious creations... mind control.

Flashback: Tom Riddle's fourth year, no POV

Tom sat in the library, having used his Invisibility Cloak to enter the Restricted Section. Since his first year he had been entering it and had made it a goal to read each and every volume in there prior to his graduation, although his knowledge of Dark Magic, even as a fourth-year, far exceeded that of his school librarian's. He had made his way through the theoretical Dark Magic, which had taken the majority of autumn of his first year, and then had accidentally stumbled upon reproductive magic, which he found repulsive, although an alternative to the muggle version of reproducing by far. And now he had come across a book called Legillemens: What's it all about? Tom had instantly been fascinated. He had just picked up the book and begun to read, when...

The voice of Apollyon Pringle came out of the silence. It was not so much his voice as a grunt, but Tom recognized it all the same. Tossing his Invisibility Cloak over his head and placing the book back on the shelf, he tore from the library into his own self-created secret passageway, the only secret passageway that held magic equal to that of Apparation, enabling him to focus on precisely where he wanted to go, and - ta-dah - he would arrive there. It was the only secret passageway that would never show up on the Marauders' Map twenty years in future, because Tom was the only one capable of entering this passageway. Additionally, he changed the password for entry once a week, so that if anyone had spotted him entering, they would never be able to use it. The password was currently "Serpensortia," but Tom was planning on changing it to "Legillimens" in the coming week.

The next day, Tom was sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts class during first period. He lazily rose his hand and said, in his not-quite-drawling-not-quite-nice tone, "Professor, what is Legillimency?"

Of course, Tom was well aware what Legillemency was. That, however, was irrelevant. He wanted to hear just one thing, and if he had to listen to another never-ending seminar in order to acquire that information, then so be it. As Professor Barathmu began to explain, Tom cut him off in favor of saving the class from being bored to death. Lazily he said, "I was wondering, Professor, if Legillimencists have any additional powers, other than being able to see into the minds of their victims. Are they able to control the victim's thoughts?"

Sid Barathmu seemed to be thinking about this. Then he said, "No, Tom. You can't change someone's thoughts."

Tom smirked to himself as he walked from the class, with only two words on his mind - mind control. Even at fourteen, even in his head, the words sounded musical to his ears.