The Raven Mage

Chapter One: Caged Bird Freed

The weather outside was as dreary as the inside the wizard's prison Azkaban. There was little sound from the inside of those stone walls, filled to the brim with dangerous criminals, supporters of the Dark Lord, and their dark dementor guards. Little did the occupants of that prison know that their hush was about to be disturbed.

The doors of the prison were flung open as if by the winds, letting in a torrent of rain and cold. In the doorway stood the only salvation these prisoners had; Lord Voldemort. He was followed by the few Death Eaters that had escaped capture in the Ministry of Magic a month ago.

Voldemort wandered slowly into the prison, drinking in the pure misery of the dank and dismal place. Those that were still capable of speech began to call out to their lord. The most recent prisoners seemed to be the loudest.

"Yes, yes, my loyal followers," Voldemort said, blandly and blatantly bored. "I am here to free those who would serve me well."

He nodded to the Death Eaters who had come with him and they began opening cell doors. The Dark Lord watched and observed those being freed. Many of the prisoners were too far gone to even realize that their freedom was a step away. He noticed with slight distain that those who had been captured recently did not seem to be much affected by their stay.

"I require something new of one of you," Voldemort told them as cell doors continued to be opened. "I need someone clever enough and skilled enough to be a thief." He paused, waiting for someone to step forward. When no one did, he frowned. "I need someone who can get into places such as Gringotts and Hogwarts. Is there no one of you who has that sort of skill?"

There was only silence. Voldemort let out a hissing breath.

"I can help you."

He turned at the voice, suspicious. "And where are you?" he asked, looking at the seemingly empty cells behind him. Each one appeared to hold only shadows.

"Tell you what," the voice said. "Follow the sound of my voice to where I am. It isn't far."

"Keep talking then," Voldemort said, still searching the area.

"Born again and born alone, this cross is mine to bear. Destiny set centuries in stone, the fabric of fate you cannot tear." The voice was quiet, but echoed through the silent stone walls of the prison.

Voldemort's eyes finally pierced the shadows surrounding the girl-child. "That was quite interesting," he said, looking into the cell. "Where did you here that?"

"In a dream," she told him. She was young, a teenager. She stood at the back of her cell, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She lifted her head to look at him and he saw that her eyes were pale crystal blue and just as piercing as his own. "So you're him, then? The Dark Lord. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...Voldemort."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "You speak my name boldly, for a child."

"Perhaps I am not the child I appear to be."

"What is your name?" Voldemort demanded. "Why are you here in Azkaban?"

"My name is Raven," she told him. "...and I don't know why."

"How old are you?" he asked next.

"Almost sixteen, I think. It's still July, isn't it?"

The Dark Lord nodded. "Yes. Well," he said, "You, Raven, intrigue me. Do you wish to be free of this cage?"

"And what would I do with that freedom?" she asked him, raising a delicate eyebrow.

"Serve me," Voldemort told her. "Follow me. Imagine the power that I could bring to you."

"What if I do not want power?" she asked softly. "What if what I want isn't something you can give?"

"And what do you want?"

"I want my friend back," she said. "But not even you can raise the dead, Dark Lord."

"Who was your friend?" Voldemort asked. "Someone else who was in Azkaban?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "He had the cell next to mine."

"Bella?"

Bellatrix stepped forward to see the empty cell. Her face twisted into a cruel grin. "...I think that was the animagus Black's cell, my lord."

"Yes. Sirius Black," Raven said. Her crystal eyes locked on Bella. The Death Eater appeared disturbed by her stare.

"What?" Bella demanded, crossly, taking a small step back.

The girl's voice was only a trace of a whisper. "I smell his blood on your hands," she said simply. Her tone was light, as if they were speaking of the weather.

Voldemort looked very impressed...and more than a little eager. He wanted this child's strangeness and intuition at his disposal. "Come with me out of this place, young Raven. You belong with those who can appreciate your keen mind."

But Raven simply smiled. "This place has been my home for nearly thirteen years. You'll have to give me a better reason than that."

Voldemort's face contorted with rage. "I could kill you instead."

Raven looked slightly amused. "I'd love to see you try."

That pushed the Dark Lord too far. His wand was suddenly in his hand, pointing at the girl, who stood amazingly calm in the face of almost certain death. In fact, her crystal eyes held a glint of what could have been glee.

Voldemort smiled cruelly and felt disappointed. "It was nice to meet you, Lady Raven, but I fear we must now say goodbye. Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light erupted from his wand and hit Raven in the chest. She doubled over, clutching her chest where the spell had hit...then she stood straight. Her pale face was now lit by the green light. In her hand, she held a globe of it, the killing curse contained in a ball. She held it for a moment, then she smiled just as cruelly as the Dark Lord and closed her hand around the light, smothering it. It disappeared, as though it hadn't been there at all. Voldemort and his Death Eaters stared in shock.

"You're powerful," she said, sounding quite impressed. "That actually stung."

..."What are you?" Voldemort murmured the question.

"I have no idea," she told him, laughter edged her words. "You are the second person to 'kill' me with that curse. You're the second person to fail."

"Join me," Voldemort said suddenly. "Please."

"Give me a good reason," she said, still smiling.

"If you remain here, you will be left alone with your dreams and your grief."

"Hm." She sighed deeply. "I suppose you're right," she said. "Very well, Dark Lord. I will go with you."

The door of her cell opened wide. "Come" Voldemort offered his long fingered hand to her. "I can place my mark on you now and get it over with."

"Does it hurt, then?" she asked, taking his hand and stepping out of the cell and into the dim light. Voldemort could see now how pale she truly was. She was really too thin to be beautiful, but her eyes made up for it. They were large and mesmerizing, and their crystal blue color was striking. She had black hair so dark that Voldemort saw blue highlights in it when she moved just right. It hung in a messy braid midway down her back. She had a sort of wraith-like allure about her. Her skin was as cold and smooth as marble.

"It does," he told her. "I burn the Dark Mark into the skin of your forearm. Do you accept it from me?" She nodded at once and he gently pushed back the right sleeve of her robe. He set the tip of his wand on the pale flesh and murmured the spell. The mark burned into her arm and he was impressed that she didn't wince.

He let go of her arm. But she grabbed his robe and held him still. "Wait." She was looking at the mark on her arm. As they both watched, the mark slowly faded to nothing.

"I thought that might happen," Raven said. "It's the same thing as the killing curse, Dark Lord. I am resistant to wizard magic. Only a very powerful wizard or witch can have any effect at all. The fact that this Dark Mark appeared at all is a sign of your capability."

Voldemort felt a twinge of ire, but it vanished with the girl's apparent praise of his power. "What to do then?" he murmured. "We'll figure it out later," he said after a moment of thought. "For now, we depart from this place you've called home."