The Raven Mage

Chapter Three: Of Death and Dust

"Strange to think that many of my followers are disturbed by death."

Raven cast a glance over her shoulder. She'd been aware that Voldemort had been following her for the last few minutes, but ignored him. Now that he'd spoken, she acknowledged his presence. "Death has been a part of my life for many years. Why should it bother me?" She touched a blackened rosebud with gentle fingertips. "I died a little every day I was in Azkaban. Besides, everything dies eventually."

"Well, I suppose we'll see about that," the Dark Lord said cryptically.

Raven raised an eyebrow at him. "Does death frighten you, Dark Lord?"

He frowned. "Why should I fear something I have conquered?"

She replied to that with a slight smirk and continued down the path. Voldemort paused a moment and then followed her. There were several minutes where the only sounds to be heard were a few scarce bird in the trees and the crunch of leave beneath their feet.

Raven stopped before a vine covered and dry fountain. She sat on the edge of it and stared at the intricate carvings in the stone. Voldemort sighed impatiently and stood beside her.

"So that is your goal, Voldemort?"

He started slightly and looked down at Raven. She was still staring intently at the fountain, running her fingertips along the carvings. It was the second time that she's spoken his name. Like she had nothing to fear from him.

"That is your goal?" she repeated when he did not answer. "To conquer death? How strange." She lifted her eyes to the gray sky. "There is nothing in this world that would make me want to live forever."

"I have better things to do than die," Voldemort snapped.

"Everything dies." Raven spoke sharply. She touched the mouth of the fountain. Water began to flow, splashing into the fountain. Raven seemed mesmerized by the water. She placed her hand at the bottom on the fountain and the water turned to ice around her hand. Voldemort watched, amazed, as she trailed her hand through the ice, freezing the entire fountain. Slowly, she lifted her hand from the ice and stepped back from the fountain. Frost slithered over the stone and a terrible chill filled the air around it. Cracks formed in the stone with violent snaps. The fountain crumbled to the ground. The frost and ice melted at once and water flowed once more from the now broken mouth of the fountain.

Raven finally turned to the Dark Lord. He looked at her in amazement. There seemed to be a soft glow to her crystal eyes. She wore a strange, incensed expression she spoke softly. "Everything."

With that, she disappeared faster than he could follow. He stared down at the crumbled fountain, a look of deep concentration on his mask-like face.

"She's strange and dangerous, Rodolphus." Bella was speaking in hushed tones to her husband. "I remember only a little about her in Azkaban. Mostly the day they brought her in. It was almost two years after the Dark Lord's fall. One of the dementor guards was carrying her like the child she was. She was dead calm in that creatures arms, fast asleep. The Dementors don't affect her at all!"

"Calm yourself, Bellatrix," a cool, calculated voice told her. Snape entered the room, his black cloak billowing behind him. He sat down smoothly in a large chair by the fire and gave his fellow Death Eater an ironic look. "You read too much into things. Question everything."

"I don't care what you say, Severus," Bella snapped, on the edge of her seat. "But I will never trust you."

"Fine, don't trust me," Snape said with a casual shrug. "But trust in this; that girl is very important to the Dark Lord. If he hears you slandering her..."

Bella turned pale and sat back in her chair glaring in silence at Snape. Her silence did not last. A moment later, she burst out with a final argument, "She disappeared this morning, did you hear about that? Who knows where she is?"

"I know," Snape said smoothly. "She asked the Dark Lord if she could visit the grave of her friend. He ordered me to show her the way and I did. She's probably still there..."

Raven stared down at the dark stone. It bore nothing but his name, date of birth, and date of death. The grave was also empty. It was just a symbol. Nothing more.

She knelt in the cold dirt of the grave and touched the stone, tracing his name with a shaking hand. Her eyes burned with the tears that wouldn't come to the surface, making her blink rapidly and wipe at them with no result.

She set her forehead on the smooth stone. She breathed deep, inhaling the scent of new grass, dew, and grave dirt. "I miss you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Memories flashed through her mind unbidden. Times that she wanted to bury forever. She could hear his deep voice, singing her to sleep. Before she ever saw his face, he was her guardian. He was the one who kept her nightmares and terrible recollections away in the dead of night. It was he who held her hand through the bars of their cells when her power burned through her veins and hurt her.

Raindrops fell as if on cue. They dotted the dry gravestone and soaked her hair and robes.

She lifted her face to the falling water and then laid down on top of Sirius's grave, more than ready at that moment to join him. Before she knew it, she was sleeping restlessly. Part of her remained conscious enough to know that the rain was falling harder and faster. As the ground beneath her became soft, she sank just slightly into the grave, her body leaving an imprint behind.

"Dry off, Raven," Voldemort gestured for her to sit by the fireplace. "It wouldn't do for you to become ill."

"I don't get sick." It was the first she'd spoken since she'd returned from the cemetery. Nonetheless, she sat on the floor by the fire, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her frail arms around them. Her eyes reflected the dancing flames as she stared deeply into them.

Voldemort watched her as she watched the fire. "Why did you chose to follow me, little bird? Bella does have a point. You were very close to Sirius Black."

"He was more of a father than my own could ever be."

"Hm." He took a seat in the large armchair nearest her. "On that subject, who is your father?" he asked her.

She tensed suddenly. Voldemort frowned and focused on her eyes for some hint of why. Almost as if she read his mind, her eyes closed tight and she set her forehead on her knees, hiding her face. "...He abandoned my mother before I was born. I...only my mother knew who he was and she...was murdered before she told me. I...I don't even know what he looked like."

Voldemort let out a deep sigh and sat back. "My own father did the same," he told her. "If that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't," Raven said, lifting her eyes to the fire again. They were shining more than before and Voldemort suspected that she was involuntarily fighting tears. "But thanks anyhow."

"Now, your mother, she was..."

"I don't want to discuss my parents, Voldemort," Raven growled suddenly. Her head snapped towards him almost too fast for him to see. The firelight reflected in her eyes gave them an almost demonic glow. "My father abandoned me and my mother is dead. End of story."

"I somehow doubt that." The Dark Lord was now standing, not taking her threatening tone well.

Raven stood as well, fists clenched at her sides. Voldemort saw movement around her hands and almost reached for his wand before he realized what it was.

Blood was dripping onto the floor from her clenched hands; she was digging her nails into her palms hard enough to make them bleed.

"I am not like you, Dark Lord." Her voice was tense as she spoke.

Voldemort's gaze snapped back to hers.

"I have been on my own since I was three years old. Since the day that my mother was murdered before my eyes. I have not the urge to go hunting for my family, Dark Lord. I've enough pain in my life." Her crystal eyes were becoming unfocused. Voldemort noticed then that the room was becoming chillingly cold. His surprise must have shown on his face for she blinked rapidly and the room became warm once more.

She let out a shaking breath and let her hands relax. Her whole demeanor became utterly weakened. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his and held them. Then she bowed deeply to him. "Forgive me, my lord. I...do not like discussing my parents."

Voldemort gave a short nod, "I see that. You..." he paused, trying to find the right words. "You have more power than you originally told me. That incident with the fountain, the air in the room just now..."

"The cold is caused by my temper," Raven cut in. "My anger does not burn, my lord. It freezes."

"That would explain the cold in this room," Voldemort said, "but what about in the garden yesterday?"

Raven hesitated and then shook her head. "Please forgive my speaking freely, my lord, but...I think you are a fool." She sighed and lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "You fear death," she held up a hand to stop him from interrupting, which he'd been about to do. They both stared at the blood still dripping from her hand and she let her arm fall again. "No matter what arguments you make, you fear death. No one who fights it like you could not." She closed her eyes and pressed on. "I just don't understand the need to conquer it. Fear, I get. I understand fear, but..." She stopped, unsure of how to explain it.

Voldemort stopped himself from lashing out at the child before him, mostly out of pure curiosity for what she had to say.

"Why should you live forever?" she demanded, images of Sirius's gravestone flashing through her mind. "Why should you want to? To live forever...to watch as everything else around you slowly dies. Why do you want that?" She winced suddenly and lifted her hands to see the four crescent moon wounds in each. Voldemort took her injured hands into his own, being careful not to touch the wounds.

"Don't say anymore," he told her. "Let's forget about this subject and that of your parents. No more arguments between us, alright?"

Raven shook her head. "Why do you care?"

"Because I will not chance losing you," he said, surprising her. "I doubt that I have ever had a follower as important as you, little bird."

"Because of my power," Raven replied, bitterly.

"Yes," Voldemort said with a slight nod. "I will not lie because you know you would not like it. Your power is what I need." He let go of her hands to touch her face. "Now, shall we forgive and forget?"

Raven nodded slowly. She stepped back from him and bowed. When she rose from it, Voldemort touched her hair one last time and then nodded. "Off to bed with you, little bird. It's been a long day."

She nodded again and gently brushed past him. As she did, he grabbed her arm to hold her back. "You should take care of those wounds, Raven."

She smirked and held up her hands to show him her palms. The marks from her nails were gone, vanished, though the blood was still there. "What wounds?"

Voldemort smiled slowly and shook his head. "Go," he said. "Tomorrow we discuss what I need of you."

Raven smiled truly and left.

"You think what?" Voldemort demanded.

"I think I should play the part of a Hogwarts student." Raven toyed with the charm around her neck. "What better way to achieve your goal? I'd stand out, certainly, but no more than you did."

Voldemort stared at her, thinking very hard. "You're not a witch," he pointed out.

"True," Raven said, smirking. She stretched out on the couch in the study, looking very pleased with herself. "But I've been experimenting with my own...breed of magic." She snapped her fingers and a tiny green flame danced on her fingertips. "Pretending to be a witch wouldn't be the hardest part."

"You've got a lot of nerve for a child," Voldemort muttered.

Raven smirk intensified. "I'll need that nerve if you approve this course of action, my lord." Her expression became serious. "My lord, I'd only need a couple of months there. I could find out anything you ever wanted to know about the school." Seeing by her lord's look that she was on the right track, she pressed on. "I'd make a better spy than Snape and you know it. He only keeps an eye on the faculty and students. I could get into rooms, corridors, dungeons, that no one has been in for centuries. And whatever protections they place on important relics wouldn't stop me." She was sitting up now and on the edge of her seat. There was a fierce look in her eyes. "Please, my lord," she begged. "Just give me a chance."

Voldemort was silent as he considered the girl before him. Finally he gave a short nod. "Very well. Speak with Snape about how to get you in as a student. That fool Dumbledore still trusts him. But Raven," he said when her face lit up. "If you are caught and proven to be one of mine...they'll likely imprison you or even kill you."

"To repeat what I said to you two months ago, my lord: I'd love to see them try."

Not for the first time, Voldemort was reminded strongly of himself at that age. Determined, powerful, and so much more than met the eye. He smiled slowly at Raven. "Then you'd best pack, little bird. September draws closer. We can't have you being late on the first day."