Pawn of Darkness

1

            Phoenix Argent had always seemed to be a perfectly normal ten year old. She was not short or tall, and had brown-blond hair that waved down past her shoulders (which she hated, as she'd always loved red hair.)   She was bright in all her classes, and performed well outdoors.   Her parents ran a greenhouse in their Britain hometown, wonderfully colorful and long-lasting blooms.   They were perfectly normal, except for the fact that they were often over-excited around Halloween, which they celebrated by dressing up as magical-folk.   Phoenix laughed at their antics during the family's favorite holiday.

            Phoenix's only exceptional feature was her eyes.   They were normally a hazel color, but went green when she was happy, brown when she was scared or upset, and the brown often turned even reddish when she was particularly angry.   This unnerved many of her friends and teachers, and her parents even more.

            One warm, mid-August night Phoenix sat alone in her room, curled on the bed with a book the night after her tenth birthday, dreaming about wondrous creatures like her own namesake, unicorns, centaurs, and mer-people.   Suddenly she sat up with a jerk.  Voices and footsteps were approaching, coming up the stairs.   She sat, silent, listening as the people talked among themselves.

            "The girl has to be around here somewhere," a man's voice whispered. "Crabbe, Goyle, start looking."   Then came two deep voiced replies of "yes, sir."

            Phoenix had assumed at first that they were robbers, but they sounded like they were after her.  She had to get out of the room, climb out the window or something. Go to her friend Tara's house and call her parents and the police.

            The door opened, and a man with silver-blond hair came in, wearing garments very similar to her parent's Halloween outfits, and carrying a long wand, again like the ones her parents had at Halloween.  Phoenix resisted the urge to laugh at hisstrange dress. He smirked at Phoenix.   "Well, hello," he said, looking directly at her, "Are you ready to go?"

            Phoenix stared at him, eyebrows raised.   Then the man raised his wand at her, and shouted "Imperio!"

            The sensation Phoenix felt was similar to being pulled upward by a large bunch of balloons.  She felt light-headed, like she was drifting away.   Then a voice drifted across the nothingness she was in.

            Come, follow me...

            But Phoenix didn't want to.  Make me, she screamed in her head to the other voice.

            Come...

            No, I want to stay here...

            The voice was cut off and Phoenix was back to herself again.   She stared at the man, who looked angry and also

startled.  Two lumbering men, probably the deep voiced people, came to stand behind the one with blond hair.  Phoenix's eyes flashed, and red sparks were gathering in them.   "Stop!" she told the first man.

            The man looked definitely mad now.   He raised his wand and shouted "Stupefy!"

            Phoenix saw a bright jet of light, and all the world went black.

* * * * *

            Phoenix rose in a dark room.  She remembered the men who had been in her house and tried to sit up, but was restrained by some type of strong, thin cords.   Her mind raced.  She had to have been kidnapped, there was no other explanation.  But what had the blond man done to her?  Why had he been able to do those things, to knock her out and send her into that nothing place where she couldn't think?

            A door creaked open.  She set her face rigidly, waiting for whoever it was.   She was surprised to see a woman with cascading golden hair walk in, carrying a tray of food.   Her eyes were nervous and wary, but her mouth was set in a smile.

            "Hello," the woman said, setting the tray down and turning on a light.  Phoenix saw that she was tied onto a large, canopied bed, in a luxurious room that was mostly emerald green in color.  "I'm glad you finally woke up."

            Deciding not to trust the woman yet, Phoenix stared some more and saw another wand, like the man's, in a pocket in the woman's gown.

            The lady began to unknot Phoenix's bonds.   Phoenix chose to take a risk and find out whether the woman was on her side, whether she would help Phoenix escape.   "Where am I?" she asked.

            "In a house."

            "A little more specific, please."

            The lady laughed, not unfriendly, but amused.   "In a house, in Britain, and I, well I can't tell you more, or he'll get upset.  In my house, and my name is Narcissa Malfoy."   She offered Phoenix some food, which the girl took gladly.

            "Who is he? And why can't you tell me where I am?"   Red was welling up in Phoenix's eyes.

            The woman looked agitated and upset at Phoenix bringing this up.   "I really can't tell you, not now."

            "Please—"

            But Narcissa was already moving toward the door.   "You'll learn soon, I should think," she said, mustering another smile, "I—I—Goodbye."

            Phoenix sighed and lay back down on the bed.   Looking around the room, she saw that it was windowless; and that although it was richly furnished, it was quite cheerless.   A cell.

            She sat down and forced herself to sleep.

* * * * *

            A loud banging roused Phoenix next, and loud footsteps.   A familiar voice, the blond man's, and a high, cold one, were talking.  She sat upright, tense, wondering if they would hurt her.   The door burst open.

            Involuntarily, Phoenix gave a small gasp.   The man who had just walked in was the tallest she had ever seen.  And he was even stranger.  His fingers were horribly long, his skin ice white.   The blazing eyes were bright red.   His mouth was in a mirthless, twisted, smile—not friendly at all.

            Phoenix decided to glare.  This tall person was on the blond man's side, and was thus a bad guy.   She sat there, staring, as he swept into the center of the room, the blond man stayed near the doorway.

            "Leave us, Lucius."  The imperious beckoning sent the blond man bowing from the room.   Then the red eyes turned themselves on Phoenix.   With a wave of his wand, he closed the door.

            "Welcome, Phoenix Argent. My name is Tom Riddle."

* * * * *

            Phoenix said nothing.  The man hardly seemed to care.  Waving his wand again, he moved a chair next to him.

            What was this, wondered Phoenix?  Was it magic?  Magic—like she had dreamed about since she was old enough to read about it? She was enthralled, but kept her face straight and emotionless.

 Some of it must have shown, however, because Riddle spoke again.   "Do you enjoy this, Phoenix?   You can do it too?  Didn't your parents ever show you magic?"

            What was he talking about?  Her parents weren't magic.  She wasn't magic...

            "In fact, I can teach you, if you want.   Give you a wand, give you the power..."   Suddenly, all the furniture in the room except the bed Phoenix was sitting on and Riddle's chair rose into the air and started spinning around.   After a minute or two, it all settled gently back into its places.

             Phoenix managed to say, "But, I can't... I'm not magic..."

 Riddle laughed.   "But you are.   You have a gift so strong I sent my Death Eaters to fetch you.   You might be almost as strong as I am, in fact, stronger than Dumbledore."   He spat the last word venomously.   "Do you want to learn, to have a chance to

use your talents?"

            "Well, yes," said Phoenix. "I think."

            "Very good then.  We will visit Gregorovitch's in one hour, and Narcissa will bring you your lunch shortly.  Don't be

alarmed if you hear people, by the way, nobody here will hurt you."  And before Phoenix had time to marvel at how he could possibly know about that, Riddle had disappeared with a small pop.

* * * * *

                         Phoenix ate her small lunch silently.  She felt a bit odd.  Hardly noticing when the lunch tray zoomed out of the room on its own accord, she sat, deep in thought, mind roving.   This was happening to quickly and was too odd.  She'd have to look at what cards were played on the table next, as she didn't really understand.

            She hadn't even noticed footsteps before her next visitor came.   It was a boy with the same hair as the blond man, Lucius, had. He looked about fifteen or sixteen; his blue eyes were like a frozen lake, cold, like everyone else's seemed to be.  There were bandages wrapped around his wrist, which was red.   "You're to come down now," he told her, and she stepped out of the room, curious about where she was.

            "Who're you?" she asked, not knowing whether she could find out more from him.

            "Draco, and this is our manor.   It really is a pity our Lord insisted on putting you in one of the smaller chambers, you won't get to see the rest of the place."

            "Are you magic too?"

            "Yes, in training.  School's a bore, I'm on a holiday, but I'll be going back soon.  I do think you'll be having much more interesting studies."

            Phoenix shrugged.  They made their way down the seemingly endless maze of stairs and hallways until they walked into a large room with an enormous fireplace and huge oaken doors.

 As the huge clock struck one, there was a small gust of air, and Riddle appeared suddenly.   Draco bowed low, and ran from the room.

 "Are you ready, Phoenix Argent?" asked Riddle.   She nodded.  "Good."   He grabbed her wrist and popped her away.

            The room rippled, and suddenly she was standing in a cold building with shelves of long, black boxes along it.   A man came running out of the back, bowing low.   He had a gray goatee and a large bald patch.

            "Good day, my Lord—" he said, but he was cut off.

"We are here for the girl's wand," said Riddle, "Help her find one, I have business in these quarters and will be back shortly."

He strode out of the room.

            Phoenix stared at the shelves and the man, who she assumed was Mr. Gregorovitch.  He was beckoning something, and a large tape measure zoomed toward them.   "You have a right wand hand, I guess?" He spoke with an accent.

            "No,"  Phoenix said, "Actually I'm left-handed."

            The man looked surprised, but covered it up and walked around the room, collecting boxes.  "Try some of these wands.  Nine inches-maple and unicorn hair."   Phoenix took the wand but it was snatched away.   "Rowan and dragon heartstring, ten and a half inches... Oak and leprechaun fire... Thorn and griffin talon... no, no, no..."

            Phoenix continues waving wands, with nothing happening.   Another wand was passed to her.   "Eleven and three-quarters inches, redwood and phoenix feather, nice and sturdy—oh, bravo!"

            Phoenix, the moment she had taken the wand, had felt a wonderful warmth spread through her fingers.  As she twirled it experimentally, a fountain of gold and silver sparks shot out of it towards the ceiling.

            As she continued to shoot sparks, now she had them coming in the colors of the rainbow, and then swirling around in the air, the door opened again.

 Riddle, smirking, walked in.  He stared at the display of sparks, then twisted his fingers and they stopped.   Phoenix was annoyed; she had been having fun.   "I assume that that is your wand," he said, talking to Phoenix, then he turned.

"Gregorovitch, how much?"

            "Um, it would be seven Galleons, sir."   The money dropped out of nowhere onto the floor behind him.   Phoenix noticed it was very odd money.   "Got the feather from a bird in the Himalayas."

 Riddle left the shop.  She followed Riddle outside, where there were many other shops, each very odd.

 "Your first lesson," Riddle said, "Will be Apparation.   You simply tap yourself with your wand, and visualize where you want

to be.  Visualize the room you were in when we left.   I will be waiting." Then he disappeared.

            Phoenix closed her eyes, pictured the huge room, and tapped herself.   There was the same blur of color, and then she saw the room coming out of the blur.

 "Very good," Riddle praised from behind her, "Tomorrow, your real lessons begin."