Take This to Your Grave and I'll Take It to Mine

Dear Diary,

I don't remember much immediately following Draco's answer. I've been told I blacked out. I do remember waking up to the woman, the man, Draco and Blaise all standing around me. Draco was crouched at my side, looking worried and sincere, like he truly cared about me. The Zabini's were standing, looking down on me like they always did.

"It has been too long, Amber-Lynn." The woman spoke with an intense, slightly think Indian accent.

"Who are you?" I asked and wrinkled my nose at the smell of her exotic perfume.

"I'm your mother, Bellarosia and this is your father, Sean." She pointed to the man, who seemed to cower at the sight of her. She didn't smile, but left her perfect, slightly pink lips together. "We owled your Mudblood caretaker, you won't be staying there anymore. Our Side needs you - you are very powerful and will have to intensely train, but you will be a great asset to us. But, that isn't the only change; we put you in your proper year and house."

"My proper house?" I had a hunch and hoped I was wrong.

"Slytherin; seventh year with your brother and husband," Bellarosia answered. "We are so proud of you - the Lord chose you, of all girls at Hogwarts!" For the first and last time in my memory, she was excited and smiled.

"Thank you, Mother," I replied, not looking into those intense, burning eyes.

After that, I was trained intensely with the other Young Death Eaters or (YED's) - emotionally, mentally and physically. It was only my third week in the mansion and I had been in the best shape of my life. I had dropped fifteen pounds, dropping two pant sizes, as well. Well, eating only two small meals a day, and exercising for eight hours a day, that happens to anyone. The Lord was very pleased with me, until my fourth week. By then, I had dropped another five pounds and was too skinny. He gave me three decent sized meals and cut my exercising to four hours.

I got Bellatrix's old room during my fourth week - Merlin, did he treat her well. The room was a dark Slytherin green, with silver trim. The bed was a four poster, king-sized bed with green curtains held back by a green satin tie, revealing the deep green silk sheets. It had my own bathroom attached, with a large closet, full of Death Eater robes and basically every piece of clothing, accessory and shoes known to mankind - in my size. I squealed at the sight of it and the Dark Lord spoke.

"Is it suitable?" He asked, his voice was as sugar coated as it got.

"It's perfect, my Lord," I curtsied. He put his hand in mine - his hand could fold over my scrawny hands, easily. He turned to me and said, "Call me Tom, when it's us alone or in front of very good friends - other than that, it's 'My Lord'."

I shivered at his touch and nodded. Tom picked me up and put me on my bed, he left after saying, "Get some rest, my rose."

I changed into pajamas and woke up several weeks later. I write this in my hospital bed, still not knowing much that happened to me, or during those weeks. I just got transferred back to Hogwarts, after a month of being in St. Mungo's Hospital. As soon as I know the extent of what happened, you'll know.

I need my rest,

Amber