Daughter of Shadow

Asenath sat on a dark, wooden chair, alone in her apartment. She was working on a particularly tricky piece of Dark Arts homework. Outside of her window was pure blackness - it was a cloudy, starless night. It made Asenath's lips curl slightly - she liked nights like that. She returned to her textbook, '101 Ways to Possess an Animal'. It was old, yellowing and stained at many places, but Asenath had learned after years of study that it was these books that held the most precious knowledge.

Asenath lived in a magically enlarged tower of an old French castle, along with her guardian, who worked as a caretaker in the said castle. Geheim was a little wizened man with lice and an endless devotion and loyalty to Voldemort. He had been taking care of Asenath for five years now, ever since her last protector, a vampire called Theresa, had been killed by the vampire hunters. Asenath couldn't say she liked Geheim, but she had gotten quite used to him over the years. He had taught her all he knew about magic, the dark arts in particular, and supplied her with illegal textbooks and old Durmstrang lesson plans. Once in a while, he would bring in a Muggle for Asenath to test her abilities on - if the scum made it through, they would obliviate them senseless and then send them out again.

As far as Asenath remembered, no one had ever treated her better than Geheim. She still remembered vividly the time when Theresa got drunk and almost fed on Asenath, or the incident when Asenath first used an Unforgivable, Cruciatus, at the age of eight, when her guardian, a man called Roger, tried to rape her. She had successfully managed Avada Kedavra a year later, when her consequent guardian had succeeded.

Asenath didn't quite understand why she had to be so well secured, but she had learned years ago that it was no use to ask. Of course, she could have used Occlumency on Geheim, but it wasn't worth the pain. There were lines she knew she couldn't cross.

So, Asenath was sitting on her high, dark, wooden chair, on that late June night, trying to figure out how you can make your soul enter a cat's body, when there was commotion outside her room. She got up gracefully but swiftly, crossed the room in a few strides of her long legs, wand in her hand, and charmed her eyes to be able to see through solid objects. Carefully, she blinked, waiting for her vision to clear. When it did, she saw a dark, hooded figure talking to Geheim. She focused on the hood, and underneath it was a face of a man she did not recognize. He said a few more words to Geheim, and Asenath cursed herself for not improving her hearing magically, rather than her sight.

Suddenly, the two men began moving towards Asenath's room. She tiptoed back to her chair and sat down, pretending to be studying. When the door opened, she turned around, pretending to look surprised, carefully hiding her sycamore wand in a fold of her dark green robes.

'Lady, this gentleman here comes-'

'Silence!' snapped Asenath, waving her hand towards Geheim in an imperious gesture as she stood up. 'The gentleman has his own voice, I am certain.'

'My lady,' said the stranger at once, bowing low, and showing the Dark Mark on his arm as proof of his trustfulness. 'You are needed in England. Our Lord has returned.'

Asenath would have squealed in excitement just then and there, if she weren't watched by the two men. Instead, she allowed herself a small smile, and asked: 'How will we travel?'

'Apparate, of course, my lady. The ministry doesn't keep track of that.'

Asenath nodded, her locks of reddish hair bouncing up and down. Normally, she would have been highly annoyed with her hair for that, but she was too excited.

'How long will I be staying? What do I need to pack?'

As an answer, the other man pulled out an inter-dimensional trunk.

Asenath nodded in understanding - she won't be returning. She drew her wand, made a circle with it all around her room, and called: 'Pack!' Her clothes, books, and other possessions (including the many dark-detectors and illegal objects) lifted into the air and neatly lined up inside the trunk, which was the size of a small room from the inside.

When she packed all she needed for a lifetime, the stranger levitated it out of the apparition-blocked tower. Asenath followed, carrying only her dragon hide handbag and wand.

'Lady Asenath,' came Geheim's quivering voice. 'Since I will probably never see you again, I wanted to give you a gift for your fifteenth birthday.'

Asenath nodded in understanding. She tutted at the stranger, who obediently took the little package from Geheim and opened it. Out fell a beautiful platinum necklace.

'It used to be Circe's,' supplied Geheim. 'I found it in the Ministry's secret departments, with the help of a couple of friends.'

Asenath nodded, smiling, this time sincerely and sadly. She performed the purifying spell on it, in case of jinxes. It shone pure white, indicated that the necklace wasn't dangerous. Asenath put it on. Splendid.

'I want you to remember me, Lady, even if I might not remember you.'

Asenath exchanged a look with the Death-Eater. So Geheim knew. The Death-Eater nodded to Asenath, who pulled out her wand and turned to Geheim.

'I'm sorry,' she said, meaning it.

Geheim smiled a sad smile. 'Farewell, Lady Asenath.'

'Farewell, Geheim. Obliviate.'

And with that, she disapparated.

...

'Ah, finally. Welcome, Idril.'

Asenath looked around. She stood on the edge of a circle of hooded men, all masked, all dark. In the middle lay a large, coiled snake. The type Asenath had always wanted as a pet. On one side of the snake was a huge cauldron, and on the other knelt a little sobbing heap of a man. And in the very middle stood He, and he was looking at her. In fact, everyone seemed to be looking at her.

Asenath stepped forward, and bowed as low as possible, kissing the hem of his robes. 'Such an honor, my Lord,' she said breathlessly, while feeling she should have prepared more for this type of a situation. What was she supposed to day, or do?

The Lord merely tutted. 'No, that won't do,' he bent over and lifted her up to her feet with strength that completely took her breath. Not knowing what to do, Asenath looking into his eyes.

He was magnificent. His face was a pale, whitish color, his skin as thin and soft as silk. His lips were bloodless, his nose flat with slits, and his eyes shone red, with coldness, cruelty, and knowledge. He radiated power beyond imagination; so much of it that all around him was an aura of soft pale light. Asenath could feel the pleasant, tingling feeling in her shoulders where he had held her. She just stared, oblivious to her mouth hanging open.

'You look a lot like your mother,' said the Lord, sounding slightly disappointed. He lifted her chin up with one finger to have a better look at her, making her jaw tremble, but not in fear or cold.

'This is lady Idril Asenath Gwen-Seren,' the Lord called out to the crowd. 'Bow to her, and from now on fulfill every wish she has, unless I tell you otherwise.'

And they did. The whole circle of Death-Eaters got onto their knees and bowed. Asenath was startled and confused.

'Do you not know why you are honored so highly?' asked the Lord, noticing her expression.

'No,' Asenath trembled out.

'Ah,' he replied, 'I should have suspected that. Then, I shall, what is the phrase... fill you in. You are the Lady Idril Asenath Gwen-Seren,' he said, his voice sending chills of delight down Asenath's spine, 'my daughter.'

...

It was dark and chilly outside, and Harry Potter, now in the seventh year, was returning from the Three Broomsticks, very obviously out-of-bounds, along with his friends, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They headed for the Shrieking Shack, knowing Honeydukes would be closed and secured with alarm spells. Harry went first into the building, after Hermione used a very complicated spell to open the door. As he stepped in, he heard footsteps inside, he froze, and just then a person appeared behind the corner.

She was tall, with long, strait black hair and a pale skin. Her chin was held high in an imperious fashion, and her eyes were black, glinting with a trace of red. She wore plain black robes, but it was obvious they had been sawn especially for her, and even though they lacked decoration, they brought out her straight back and this waist. They seemed to be made out of some stiff, rather unbending material. She held a wand in her lowered hand, and watched Harry with a long, intense look.

'Harry Potter,' she breathed finally, looking very plainly straight at his scar. She took a step closer, touching his scar with one long finger, sending a chill through it.

'Yes, replied Harry, momentary unable, or rather now willing, to step away.

'Finally, I've met you. What a pleasant surprise,' she said, not looking surprised in the least. 'You will hand over your wands, of course.'

Harry's eyes widened, as did those of the people behind him. He recovered quickly, though, because he continued pretending to look aghast while inching his hand towards his pocket.

'No stupid little tricks, Potter,' sighed the girl, giving her wand a little poke. The four wands vanished and re-appeared in her hands.

Harry looked back at his friends, and they were all looking up to him, as if expecting him to miraculously save them all. He turned back to the young woman in front just as she snarled: 'You lot, get out of the habit of expecting Potter to save the world. It's not like he's going to do so this time.'

And with that, she poked at her wand again, tying their hands up and tying a rope between them and her, so that they all had to follow her like dogs on a walk. She cast a spell of some sort at them, making them all invisible. Harry had never heard of a spell this powerful before.

'Follow me, will you?' she asked very rhetorically, throwing an invisibility cloak around her and stepping into the darkness.

...

'First of all, Idril, I want you to change your appearance. You lack the looks you would need as the Lady of Darkness.'

Asenath looked up, surprised. Her innocent, baby-chubby face, clear green eyes and large curls of orange hair had served her well in deceiving enemies. It made them underestimate her. She didn't have the strength to tell her father and Lord about this, but he must have read her thoughts, because he continued.

'You will not need to hide from anyone now. You have openly become the Lady, my only alive descendant and heir, and my future wife.'

Asenath did not question the last bit. Whatever her Lord wanted, she would do.

'I would like you to resemble me.'

Oh, I would love to be like you, so powerful and wise, thought Asenath wistfully. It was a little over a week since she had met him, and she became fascinated by him more and more with every minute they spent together.

'We will use simple spells for now, just to thin and pale your face and darken your hair and eyes. Once you become of age and marry me, I shall place more permanent spells on you.'

'And after that?' asked Asenath timidly.

'After that, you shall bear me a child,' he said, his voice becoming somehow deeper and more resonant. 'A true heir.'

'Oh.' Asenath wouldn't have minded to do so here and now, but somehow she surmised her Lord had meant "After we get married."

'I meant after I change my looks temporarily,' she explained.

'Well, then we shall retreat to a rather well hidden residence place of mine, where I shall teach you and make you more powerful than my closest servants.'

Asenath nodded, her inside squirming with pleasure. 'I'll be honored beyond imagination, my Lord.'

...

The four Gryffindors followed the young woman obediently, but Harry knew all eyes were on him (their abductor had made them all visible once they got further from Hogsmeade) as his friends wondered why didn't he simply save them, like he had done so many times before. Harry didn't know what he would answer if they actually asked that question aloud. He just knew, somehow, that this woman was a warrior of a caliber far beyond his own power. He watched her measured movements as she casually flicked her wand this way on that, clearly putting more spells on her hostages, though what spells they were Harry didn't know. He wondered how many years of training had made her this powerful and experienced. She looked young, not much older than him, though next to her, Harry felt like an infant.

She didn't stop for what seemed hours, and seemed unaffected by travel, while the rest of the group trudged and stumbled. When she finally did stop, it was not out of fatigue. She held head hand up, and the rest of the group fell silent. As if it was necessary, she put a silencing spell on all of them, and then pressed a finger to her lips, indicating with her other hand that they should hide in the nearby bushes. She made them all disappear again, including herself, vanishing from their sight.

For minutes that seemed to last forever, Harry listened to footsteps and whispering of many people drawing nearer. Death Eaters, surely. He found two arms entwine themselves around here, and felt the person trembling violently. Ginny, probably. There was no sight of their kidnapper, and for a moment Harry thought about running away, before he felt a wandtip pressed to the side of his head.

'One sound, Potter, and you and the smallest one are dead,' hissed a voice into his ear.

Harry was confused. Why would she not want to be discovered? Didn't she work for Voldemort? And then it hit him - these weren't Death Eaters at all, they were Aurors. Harry cursed himself for his stupidity. If he had figured it out faster, they could be safe now. Ginny sobbed, her face pressed on Harry's back.

Suddenly, Harry heard something like a snort, the sound of someone blowing out through their nose when they thought of something amusing. And sure enough, the voice in his ear spoke.

'Petrificus totalus. Locomotris.'

Harry felt his body go tight with the complete body-bind, and then levitate into the air. Three other bodies followed. They landed several yards away, and lay there for quite a long time. Harry could hear Aurors to his right, where they had been hiding before. Suddenly, through a gap in the trees, he saw a huge, shimmering green shape lift into the night sky what seemed half a mile. The Dark Mark.

A shape came rushing in, unbinding the foursome. Harry felt a hand grab him. She was there, and Harry could almost sense the wand she pointed at them. There were shouts from behind as the Aurors noticed the Mark and now were doubtlessly running towards it to see what had happened.

'Run, Potter, you idiot.'

And he ran. He felt someone clutching onto the back of his robes, and was sure his three friends had formed a line in order not to lose him and each other. The invisibility spell was growing weak, and Harry could see a faint outline of the woman next to him, her thin but strong hand clutching his shoulder, pulling him forward. An idea suddenly came to him. He stopped. His captor didn't expect this - she stumbled and fell. Unfortunately, she managed to pull Harry down with her, and they both rolled down a steep slope, their limbs entwined. Harry was pretty sure they were followed down the slope by three pairs of feet.

'Potter, you ass,' she managed, trying to get up. But Harry held her wand, and he had her pinned to the ground, and for a few moments she struggled, before flattening herself against the wet grass. Harry could see her chest heave fast, from the run, but she was hardly flushed or sweating. She did something Harry didn't catch, but somehow ended up thrown off her in an arch, her wand flying out of his hand. He hit his head on something hard, and inspected it.

It was a stone pillar. In fact, there were several stone pillars around. It looked like they were in a very old ruin of some palace. Two pillars, with one lying on top of them, must have been some sort of an entrance. That was where the two of them had rolled through. He saw motion of his right, and realized his captor had gotten up, now fully visible. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were just entering through the gate pillars.

'What is this place?' asked Ron. His face was quite pale, and he looked anxious.

'Dunno.'

Hermione was clutching a stitch in her side, and Ginny was scarlet in the face, sweat running down her cheeks.

'I hope-'

But what Hermione hoped, Harry never found out, because all of sudden, he had the weirdest, sinking sensation. It was as if he was falling alarmingly fast. Before the world became a blur, be caught the sight of his kidnapper's face. She looked shocked - but not frightened, more like determined. Harry baled his fists, feeling oddly naked without a wand, and prepared for whatever would come.

...

'Can I call you Abigail?'

Asenath's face twisted into something between a grin and a look of deep mistrust. She was quite aware of the meaning of the name. 'Okay,' she consented. The dark eyes of the two women met, and understanding passed through. 'I quite agree,' added Asenath. Or Abigail.

'Can I call you Xena?'

The older woman's features were distorted by a short, hysterical laugh. 'You're a clever one, sure. But a Muggle name?' She looked quite disgusted.

'I was merely joking,' replied Asenath, getting up. Over the last half a year, she had learned her manners quite well, and knew it would not be wise to cross lines with a woman like Bellatrix Lestrange.

'I really like your name, you know,' she said, looking pensive. It wasn't merely flattery. 'Bellatrix. The she-warrior.'

Bellatrix looked quite pleased, probably reading the truthfulness of Asenath's words in her eyes. That's what Asenath needed to work on - her eyes. She must learn to keep them devoid of emotion.

'I've heard you're my father and Lord's most loyal Death Eater,' said Asenath, quite interested in the matter.

'Of course. I went to Azkaban for him.'

Asenath looked at Bellatrix, feeling jealousy in the pit of her stomach. Here was a person her father possibly cared about as much as about his own daughter.

...

The five young people landed on a stone floor in the middle of a tunnel. Right in front of them was an archway into another tunnel, and above it was a sign written in a language completely foreign to Harry.

'Welcome to the Labyrinth of Terror,' read their captor.

'Oh no,' breathed Hermione, lifting her hands to her mouth.

'Shut up, Mudblood,' hissed their kidnapper.

'How dare you-'

'Your loyalty to the Muggle is amusing Weasley, but if you enjoy being alive, I guess you should do as I say, and I said "shut up".'

For a few moments, there was a strained silence, as Ron clearly battled the desire to speak his mind, but he thought off it in the end. Their captor smiled contently and resumed reading.

'Few of those who enter the Labyrinth come out alive. Get ready to face Terror. Get ready to face you greatest fears. Welcome to the Labyrinth. Welcome to your Death.'

Ginny gasped audibly, and Ron's mouth fell open.

'Shhh,' came another hiss, and this time they all fell silent. There was a noise from one end of the tunnel - it sounded like the scurrying of feet. Ron's face went pale as a huge acromantula appeared from behind a corner, running strait at them. Instinctively, the Death Eater dropped onto her stomach, a wand in each hang, and yelled 'Stupefy!' The huge black spider stumbled, and dropped onto the floor, where it lay, stunned.

She walked up to it, and Harry noticed, for the first time, that she wore dragon-hide boots that clunked as they hit the stone the floor. Her lips curled into a cruel smile as she pointed her wand at the spider's limp form. 'Avada Kedavra!'

A flash of green light hid the acromantula, and it rolled over, dead. Ginny gave a small scream. Harry found himself trembling, not at the sight of a dead spider, but at the cruel smile still playing his captor's lips. He had seen the smile before, and would very much like to forget it.

'Shut it, little child, or I will have to silence you by other means,' she said to Ginny, still smiling in that disturbing way. 'Follow me, everybody. If you fall behind get killed in some slow and painful way, it's completely your problem.' And with that, she all their shoes to make no sound and leave no tracks, put her wand into steady position, and begun half-walking, half-running in the direction the Acromantula had come from.

...

'Now, you have all the power you need, Idril,' said her Lord on one of their meetings.

'Oh.' Asenath couldn't help being a bit disappointed. No more learning. No more improving. No more spending long hours in the Lord's company.

'But I have a final task for you,' he continued, ignoring her crestfallen expression. 'You have the power and the means to do it. You will bring me Harry Potter.'

Asenath looked up. 'But my Lord, the boy is too well protected. And he must have power to match yours, if he managed to escape you so many times.' She could tell her Lord was angry now, when she had, very bluntly, said to his face what his Death Eaters never dared mention.

'They boy is weak, and you will bring him in,' he snapped, his temper on edge. 'You will got to the village Hogsmeade, and stay at a deserted house called the Shrieking Shack. You will kidnap the boy, and possibly even some of his friends, and bring them to the camp. The boy must be dead before we marry,' he said, and Asenath knew there was no going back. She felt oddly angered, though. She felt her rights were being violated somewhere in that order.

'What if I refuse?' she asked daringly, taking a step forwards. Voldemort looked strait at her, and she subconsciously took a few steps back.

'You will not,' he said, and Asenath felt herself nodding stupidly. All that missed from an image of a dolt were the bouncing orange locks.

'Of course, my Lord,' she replied. 'I will depart immediately.'

...

'Get in,' she barked. Harry gave her a quick, questioning look, before stepping in. It was an ordinary-looking room, completely empty. The moment they all got in, however, it gave a slight lurch, and to Harry's horror, it begun shrinking. The walls were moving closer, threatening, to make them all into a human pancake. Girls screamed. The world spun as his claustrophobia took over his brain, and he made for the door, which was locked.

'Potter, calm it!' shouted an imperious voice. Something about the voice made him obey. Harry turned around at his captor, who was looking at him in an exasperated way, putting a freezing charm on the last wall.

'We will sleep here. Or rather, you will. I'll find a room for myself.' And with that, she locked the door behind her.

The four teenagers exchanged looks, clearly wondering if they should escape, and without speaking, they all came to the conclusion that wandless, they had no chance of getting out of this maze alive. They all pulled off their school robes to use as blankets, and, shivering and with grumbling stomachs, drifted into uneasy sleep.