Back in the Night

I. Grey Eyes

Roxette Summerson had grey eyes.

That was all that really stood out about her. She was moderately attractive in her way. She had a good figure and a normal nose and her mouth was neither too big nor too small. She had an oval-shaped face and a light dusting of freckles from the bridge of her nose to the tops of her cheeks. She was on the taller end of average and her hair was quite long and brown. She was a very unremarkable girl to look at, apart from her eyes. They were a steely grey, the kind you read about a strong character having in a book.

To talk to, Roxette was a nice girl. There was really no other word for it. She was pleasant and funny and she was intelligent, but not supremely gifted or incredibly generous. She didn't have everyone in stitches constantly. She was just a pleasant, normal, pretty adolescent.

However Roxette didn't feel so normal.

She was sitting on the ledge of a window, staring into the night. She couldn't see very well because of the darkness, but she knew that someone was going to come. Someone with blonde hair. He was going to lead her to a man she had never heard of, and someone she quite frankly didn't want to meet.

Roxette was not stupid. She knew that this Voldemort man was going to be bad news. His name even seemed threatening. She shivered as she remembered first hearing his name. And why did the blonde guy always have to call him the Dark Lord? It was hardly reassuring.

Roxette turned around, facing into the room in which she was sitting. She lived in a Children's Home. Her mum was almost constantly on the razzle. She doubted that her mother could even remember that she had a daughter. She didn't care particularly. Life in the Home wasn't as bad as people made it out to be. It was quite fun when you got on with everyone.

Roxette looked at her fellow youngsters, sitting around. Jimmy Young was sitting in an armchair reading a book. Pete Wilkinson was playing some sort of alien killing game on the PlayStation with Robert Kingdon and Sephy Kowalczyk was chattering away to Lucy Jones. Some of the younger kids were playing mad games that involved squealing and running around chasing each other. Roxette smiled to herself. Life had been so simple up until she'd heard the name Voldemort. The occasional snide joke about her family from kids at school but what could you expect?

Then the blonde man had come to the door one night. Roxette had been playing pool when he'd come. All she'd known was Kate had come downstairs and informed her she had a visitor.

Roxette had gone upstairs and was faced with a strange man with light blonde hair.

"Hi," she said. "Are you here about my English homework? Because I did do it."

"I'm not here about homework," said the man. "Come with me."

"But it's cold," protested Roxette. "And who are you anyway?"

"My name is Yoflam Suicul," said the man.

"Yoflam?"

"It's Dutch," said Yoflam impatiently. "Look, you are Roxette Summerson aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Look, come with me. I have something to tell you about."

Defying all her common sense, Roxette had followed Yoflam and walked with him. They'd reached the end of the street when he suddenly stopped, and turned to face her. For one terrifying moment Roxette was sure she was about to be raped, but Yoflam just spoke. His voice was harsh and had lost the smooth, persuasive quality it had had in the doorway.

"Look, I'm going to make this brief," he said. "There is magic in the world."

Roxette laughed.

"Yeah, sure there is," she said.

"There is," insisted Yoflam. "And you're caught in the centre of it, Roxette. Because there is a very powerful magical person that needs you. Voldemort, the Dark Lord."

"Dark Lord? I don't like the sound of that," said Roxette, nervously.

"Look, sometimes you have to do dark things to get power," said Yoflam edgily. "Summerson, Lord Voldemort needs you. I don't know exactly what for and I doubt I'd be allowed to say if I did, but Voldemort wants you and I am the one chosen to take you to him."

"Now? But I'm hungry!" Roxette objected lamely.

"Not now, silly girl," said Yoflam irritably. "I'll be back in six days. I want you to make sure you tie up any of your silly Muggle loose ends-"

"What's a Muggle?"

"- before you come. Lord Voldemort does not need silly little teenage worries over snogging your best friend's boyfriend and not telling her. And to answer your question a Muggle is someone like you."

"What, a thicko?" said Roxette sceptically. She still believed this to be some sort of wind up. Magic? Yeah, right.

"You don't believe me, do you?" said Yoflam, looking at Roxette.

"No," said Roxette, bluntly. "Who d'you think you're kidding, Mr Suicul?"

"You," said Yoflam, and waved a stick in the air. A lamppost nearby became a giraffe.

Roxette screamed and doubled back as Yoflam changed the giraffe back into a lamp. Severely shaken, she sat down on the pavement, breathing heavily.

"Oh sweet mother of mercy," she muttered. "How did you...?"

"Magic. I told you, Roxette," said Yoflam, calmly. "I'll be back in six days and willing or not, you'll be coming with me to Lord Voldemort."

"Ok," said Roxette, now a lot more scared than before. "But...is he going to kill me?"

"I doubt it," said Yoflam. "One Muggle teenager is hardly a threat. I can't see why he'd want to kill you. I can't see why he'd want to use you either, but there you go."

Roxette frowned.

"I'm not useless," she said, as bravely as she dared.

"I highly doubt you are," said Yoflam reasonably. "If you were useless the Dark Lord wouldn't be likely to want you. There's obviously something you have that he needs."

Somehow this didn't relieve Roxette. Actually it made her feel worse. Was this Voldemort guy going to take something from her? Maybe he could extract bravery and intelligence from people. If so she wondered why he wanted her.

"So go back home," said Yoflam. "Go home and wait. In six days I'll be back. I'll take you to Voldemort himself, and then we'll see what all this is about."

Severely shocked, Roxette had returned back to the home. Nobody had asked what was wrong. Nobody honestly cared. Parentless children often looked worried. It was just the way.

However over the next six days even the slowest of the children had realised there was something very different about Roxette. She'd changed from the friendly, bright person she had been to a paranoid recluse. She hadn't been talking to many people, not even her best friend. She'd been jumping at the slightest thing and kept darting her eyes around nervously in the streets.

"Are you ok, Rox?" asked Lucy three days after Roxette's encounter with Yoflam. "You seem really uptight lately."

"Something's gone wrong with your chi," put in Sephy. "Your yin and yang have become uneven. I can see it in your aura."

Lucy suppressed a snigger and turned to her friend. "Yang's overbalanced into the yin, has it Seph?"

"Other way around, actually," said Sephy. "Your aura is too dark, Roxette. You look practically haunted."

"Thanks," said Roxette, privately thinking that that was perfectly right. "I'm cool, guys, really. I'm just tired."

Lucy didn't look convinced as she and Sephy left, and she had a right to be. Roxette had been extremely wary since she discovered magic was in the world. She had been checking all around her for signs of magic when she was on the streets, making sure that there was no hiding wizard about to turn her into a toad on a dark street. She had been lying awake so was therefore very tired. The slightest thing made her jump. She was still scared that it could be Voldemort, whoever he was.

And there she was, sitting on the windowsill, waiting for Yoflam Suicul to come and lead her to Lord Voldemort, and possibly her doom. She had a very bad feeling about Voldemort, whoever he was. The prospect of meeting with the "Dark Lord" didn't fill her with hope somehow. She kept watch for the glint of silver-blonde hair and the swish of his long, billowy black coat.

She suddenly jumped. Yoflam had strolled out from behind a bush and had caught her eye. He gestured for her to come outside. Roxette bit her lip. She was nervous. A small voice in her head was saying, I'm going to die now.

She got up. Nobody asked her where she was going. Nobody noticed her slip out of the front door. She grabbed a jacket, just in case it was cold.

"Roxette," said Yoflam, nodding curtly at her. "You've come. Good. Now we'll go."

"Where?" asked Roxette.

Yoflam reached out a pale hand. Roxette stared.

"Yes?"

"Take it," said Yoflam impatiently. "Hold on tight. This may feel uncomfortable. No, actually, it will feel uncomfortable."

Roxette bit her lip and held on to Yoflam's hand. It was thin and bony, and she wanted to let go. She was going to when suddenly she felt the sensation of being squeezed through a very tight space. Her breathing was harsh and shallow when suddenly, feeling very dizzy, she felt the solid ground below her feet. She looked down at herself. She was solid and by the looks of it as slim and solid as normal. Good.

"What was that?" she asked Yoflam, turning to him. But he ignored her.

Roxette looked around. They appeared to be at the door of a huge house that resided on a hill over a tiny village. She stared. This was becoming such a cliché. Some part of her brain hadn't seemed to have registered that this was really happening.

Yoflam didn't even knock on the door. He just announced something into the night.

"My Lord, I have brought her."

The door opened. Nobody was on the other side of it. Roxette was really creeped out now. This may be no big thing to Yoflam but she had grown up a Muggle! She had grown up thinking magic was a fictional thing only performed by story-book fairies and people in fantasy novels! She followed Yoflam in, and remembered all the good things about her life.

That's all? Roxette thought bitterly as she cautiously followed Yoflam up a flight of stairs. I could die in two minutes and that's all I have about my life worth remembering? Damned TV. Ruined my sense of fun.

Yet another door. Yoflam opened it and Roxette followed him in. There was a very thin man in a cape sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. He was facing the door. Roxette caught a glimpse of a white face and bright green eyes with cat-like pupils.

"You," he said, pointing a scarily long finger at Yoflam. His voice was harsh and cold. "What name did you go under?"

"Yoflam Suicul," replied Yoflam. "It's Dutch."

"No it's not," said the man in scornful tones. "It's your name backwards. It's pitiful the thing's you come up with, Lucius, it really is. If any wizard had heard you he would have worked it out in an instant."

"I am sorry, my Lord," said Lucius, bowing his head in apparent shame. Roxette was now thoroughly creeped out. She was positive she was going to die.

"So," said the man who was presumably Lord Voldemort, turning his head to look Roxette in the eye. She trembled. "You're Roxette Summerson, are you?"

"Y-yes," stammered Roxette. And then, much more bravely than she felt, she added, "Are you going to kill me?"

Lord Voldemort laughed.

"No," he said. "At least, not now."

This wasn't particularly reassuring to Roxette. "Not now" implied that she was going to be killed in the end.

"Roxette," he said, pulling the top of his hood slightly so Roxette could see even less of his face. "I have to admit I've taken an...interest in you."

Roxette shivered. Was this guy going to rape her? If she was completely honest with herself, she'd rather it was Lucius. But Lord Voldemort carried on his speech sitting in his chair.

"There are some people in my life that I would rather not have in it. I have tried to get rid of them and almost all of them are dead. However there is one person who continues to elude me. He's only seventeen and yet he still manages to hide from me. I cannot kill him. I want you to."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're young, you're attractive, you're female and you're a Muggle. He would never suspect you."

"You want me to kill someone?"

Roxette was horrified. How could she justify murder?

"I do," said Voldemort, lifting his head so his hood retracted and Roxette was fixed with those eerie eyes again. "I want you to do something for me. And when I want people to do things for me, they do them. Or the consequences for them are not at all pleasant. So you will track down Harry Potter and you will kill him."

It looked like she had no choice. Roxette was not strong-willed or heroic. She feared death. She didn't want to die, especially at the hands of this formidable creature. She nodded, trying not to meet Voldemort's gaze.

Voldemort reclined in his seat, a smug smile on his lipless mouth.

"Good," he said. "Miss Summerson, this is going to be a pleasure having you working for me. Think of yourself as my personal assassin."

"Assassin? I'm your hired gun?"

"What's a gun?"

"You don't have guns?"

Roxette was surprised. Surely wizards murdered each other? Well, obviously they did, judging by Voldemort's words. She supposed they must have murder spells. God, she was never going to get used to there being spells in her orderly world.

"No. We do not have them, whatever they are. No doubt they're useless objects," said Voldemort, sharply. He obviously did not want Roxette to believe for a second that she lived in a society that could possibly have created something more sophisticated than in his.

"They are, rather," said Roxette hastily. "They're supposed to kill people but it doesn't always work. They're not very good at what they do, really."

"I'd guessed," said Voldemort, more composedly. "Muggles are mostly useless, Roxette. Remember that."

"I know that. I know a lot of useless people."

Lord Voldemort looked at Roxette brusquely.

"I hope you are not including me in that remark, Summerson."

Roxette's eye widened involuntarily.

"No, no!" she said, anxiously. "No, I meant out of the Muggles I know."

"Good," said Voldemort, looking happier (if that was possible). "Now, Roxette, Lucius here will give you more information on your task in the landing. I am busy."

Then he made a sort of hissing noise that Roxette couldn't understand. It was like he was doing a snake impression. Then to her absolute horror a gigantic snake came slithering out of the corner and wound its way around Voldemort's chair. Roxette clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself screaming and backed away, straight into Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh my God," she whispered and Lucius led her out into the landing. "Why on Earth does he have a giant snake?"

"That is something that the Dark Lord should choose to tell you," said Lucius primly. "I am not to tell you anything without his consent. Anyway, onto the details of your mission."

My mission, thought Roxette bitterly. I have to kill someone. Someone who I don't even know. Someone who's only just seventeen.

"We aren't sure where exactly Harry Potter is, but he and the Dark Lord share a...special connection. We've managed to narrow his whereabouts down to two places. Cambodia..."

"Cambodia? Isn't that the place with the Khmer Rouge?"

"The what now?"

"The Khmer Rouge."

"You're not too keen on going near them, then?"

"Not really, no."

"Are they nasty?"

"Well they're not too friendly as terrorist organisations go."

Lucius chose to ignore her and went on.

"Anyway, Harry Potter is either in Cambodia or Northumberland. We're guessing the latter."

"Good," said Roxette. She didn't like the idea of visiting a country formerly ruled by Pol Pot.

"I'll be Apparating you there and then leaving. Then you'll be alone."

Roxette half expected him to say "let the force be with you" but he didn't. "This is a photograph of the boy you're looking for."

He held up a photograph of a moderately good-looking boy with very dark hair, glasses and a scar on his forehead that to Roxette resembled forked lightning. The photograph was moving. He seemed a little shifty, to be honest. The photo subject's eyes stared right at her, until she shuddered. They were bright green. It was actually slightly creepy. Especially when you aren't used to photographs moving.

"This is Harry Potter?" she asked, looking at Lucius with an impassable expression on her face. The truth was she didn't know what to think. He was not a remarkable person to look at.

"He's not as vulnerable as he looks," warned Lucius. "He's fucking hard to kill, trust me."

"I can't say I've ever tried to kill someone before," said Roxette, as coolly as she dared. "Especially as I only knew there were wizards in the world a week ago."

Lucius frowned.

"Don't be insolent," he said. "You're now irritating me, Roxette Summerson. I have no idea why the Dark Lord chose you for this instead of me."

"I don't either," admitted Roxette. "You'd obviously be better for the job. For one thing, you actually know the guy I'm supposed to be taking out."

"That helps," said Lucius aloofly. "Now, I have to take you to where you're meant to be. Hold."

He held out his hand, but Roxette backed away.

"Hold up. You're sending me somewhere I don't know? I have nothing with me! Where am I staying? I have no money. I don't even know what I'm meant to be doing properly. How am I meant to kill him anyway?"

Lucius rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I forgot you can't just conjure stuff up. I'll go and discuss it."

He went into the room in which Voldemort and the giant snake were. About five minutes he came back out again, holding a large and heavy-looking backpack.

"Here," he said, handing it to Roxette. It wasn't as heavy as it looked. "It's got most of the stuff you'll need in it. And it's got a lightweight charm on it so it won't cripple you horribly for life."

"Cheers," said Roxette, putting the pack on her back. "Does it have a tent in it?"

"Yes."

"Dammit! I hate camping."

"You can't be a chooser when you're an assassin, Summerson," said Lucius briskly. Roxette narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He almost gave the air that he was enjoying seeing her in the predicament of having to bump off a guy she'd never met before. A guy who had magical powers when she was about as magic as a pencil sharpener.

"Lucius Malfoy, who are you?" asked Roxette, suddenly feeling a lot braver than she had done in the face of this man before.

Lucius smiled.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he said, and grabbed Roxette's hand, and once again there was that squeezing sensation and she knew that her life was on the brink of devastation.