Dark Child
(A/N: ok, remember when I said I was obsessed with Voldemort in my bio? Well, this is one of the stories I was talking about. Please review (I accept flames), and if enough people like it, I will post more (I've already written the whole story) Enjoy!)
Prologue
Voldemort paced the library of his dark manor, every once in a while looking up at the big clock. A faint scream of pain came floating through the open door. Upstairs, a young woman was in labor. It had been going on for six hours. As much as Voldemort enjoyed hearing screams of pain, he was starting to get annoyed and impatient.
The screaming stopped a few minutes later. The midwife walked down the dusty stairs and into the library. Voldemort immediately turned and walked towards her.
"Well?" he said.
"My lord, you have a...daughter," the midwife said this last word cautiously, because she knew how much Voldemort wanted a son.
Voldemort turned away. Why, why was he always cursed with daughters? He had had eight daughters already, but they were all dead. Clenching his fists so he wouldn't unleash his anger on the midwife, he turned slowly back around.
"Take me to her," he said.
The midwife led him up the stairs and into a small bedroom, where Sorin was. She was sitting up in the bed, holding the six-minute old baby. Her dark red hair was drenched as if she had dipped it in water. She looked exhausted, and her eyes lacked that cold and steely look Voldemort had always seen. Sorin was looking down at her daughter with what looked like affection.
Voldemort walked over to the bed. "Sorin," he said.
Sorin looked up at him. The cold eyes were back.
"Let me see the child."
Sorin clutched the baby closer to her chest. IT was the first sign of love Voldemort had seen her express. "No," she said icily.
"Let me see her!" Voldemort said in a louder, more commanding tone.
Sorin silently handed over the baby, eyes cast down in a sign of submission. She knew better than to argue with Voldemort.
Voldemort looked down at the child in his arms. She had small wisps of dark red hair on her head, and when she opened her eyes, he saw that they were violet with gold flecks in them.
"What is her name?" Voldemort asked.
"Souraya," Sorin mumbled.
Voldemort handed Souraya back to her mother and started to walk towards the door.
"My lord?" Sorin said.
"Yes?"
"You're not going to kill her, are you? Not like all the others?"
Voldemort stared at his daughter. "We shall see," he said in a dangerous tone. Voldemort disappeared out the door.
Sorin watched Souraya squirm in her arms. "I hope I get to watch you grow up," she said softly, lightly kissing the top of the baby's head,