Usually, she was a bystander.

She had grown up with muggles. Of course, that would seem impossible for a girl of her heritage, but it had been the best way of hiding her away from both worlds, on the orders of her father.

The memories of the muggles she had been staying with had been altered, of course, so they thought she was their real daughter. They'd been compelled to obey her orders and yet to make everything appear normal to the outside world. Every so often, they would buy their daughter books from Diagon alley that covered both wizardry and pureblood behaviour to prepare her for the magic world and teach her more than normal children her age.

Only her father and Bellatrix knew of the girl's location. It was a contingency plan in case something unexpected happened, which it did. When Voldemort had vanished and Bellatrix had been imprisoned shortly after, a loyal death eater had made the necessary arrangements before committing suicide for the death eater cause.

She'd been allowed to go to school. A small, private, muggle one, led by an elderly man. It goes without questioning, that his mind had been altered as well and it seemed that Voldemort had caught a glimpse of the usefulness that the other world provided: Anonymity led to protection for his girl.

So when she wasn't learning muggle stuff that was deemed unnecessary – the death eaters had made sure she would pass every grade without learning – the girl studied magic.

True to her upbringing, spells had come easily to her. Having been given her first wand at 7, she was better with it than most wizards 8 years later; Yes, there were some difficulties with wandless magic, but it worked for simple spells and it wasn't like she planned on losing her wand. Potions were a necessary evil and even though she still excelled in the fine and precise art, the girl never looked forward to it. But her true passion belonged to animals. The more dangerous the animal, the more it drew the girl to her.

But the most, she loved her snake. It was a cobra that'd been charmed to never grow longer than the girl's height.

That she had little to no friends was due to the fact that she talked more to the snake than to her two guardians and often switched to Parseltongue when actually not wanting to. It earned her the nickname "freak" at school, but she learned soon enough not to let that bother her – when she threatened them with her poisonous snake, it was enough incentive for them to stop actively mobbing her.

At the age of fourteen, her father had come to get her. She'd been happy to finally see him and have a real father. His looks hadn't disturbed her, which probably was connected to the fact that he resembled a snake from a certain point of view.

For the little town she'd been living it, that day had been a day of tragedy: two muggles had been cruelly murdered and more had died by the fire in the private school.

Two days later, he'd marked her with his sign on her right forearm, a subtle yet crucial difference to where his other followers bore his mark. From there on, Voldemort's daughter had been a constant bystander at the death eater's actions.

She'd been there during the celebrations of her father's return.

She'd been there, when the remaining death eaters had been punished for their failings, wringing on the floor, crying in agony, begging for mercy that had neither been deserved nor given. She had held the wand that had punished them.

She was there when the small team of death eaters had come back from their successful and seemingly impossible mission to rob their enemies of their most valuable leader and tactician. They had celebrated that evening, drinking and dancing – and torturing.

Though the torture of their prisoners must not have been as agonizing, because everyone had been in a good mood. Better mood, after the torture, that is.

And now, she was sitting next to her father, a member of his inner circle; in them, he had the closest what could only be described as trust. This was not unusual, yet also the first time, because her face wasn't covered by a hood and a mask.

Her brown, almost black hair – bound in a loose French braid was framing her face and the emotionless eyes in a cold, yet beautiful way.

Voldemort surveyed his followers and couldn't help but feel something like pride course through his veins when his eyes came resting on his heir.

The somewhat tense atmosphere was interrupted by a lonely figure entering the room. Snape. Despite being late, his stride showed nothing of uncertainty or fear, a feat not few of Voldemort's present followers possessed, which gained him respect in the Dark Lord's eyes.

"Severus, how nice of you to join us. Take your seat" the dark wizard welcomed the man who'd been his spy for more than a decade now and Snape obeyed, taking the seat next to Voldemort's daughter.

"So, Severus, you say you can provide information about when Potter is scheduled to be moved by the Order?" Voldemort's high voice was directed towards the spy.

A low and painful moan cut through the conversation from the bound woman hovering below the ceiling.

"Wormtail! Haven't I told you to keep our guest silent?" Voldemort's voice was angry now and no one wanted to be near an angry Dark Lord, particularly not the shivering and pathetic Wormtail.

"Ye—Yes, my lord. Sorry, my lord." the animagus was quick to apologize and with a wave of his wand, the moans stopped. It would be a very long stretch to say that Sarah liked Wormtail, because she only barely tolerated him. He was just incompetent and the only positive things about him were the lessons he could provide and the fact that he basically brought her father back to the land of the living.

Voldemort motioned for Snape to continue.

"My lord, my sources tell me they plan on taking him to a safe house next Saturday…" instead of Snape, Yaxley - who was new in the inner circle – spoke up.

"My lord, I have information from the ministry that Potter isn't scheduled to be moved until his 17th birthday. My source seemed quite sure of that, I assure you!"

"Of course he would seem sure of it if he was under the Imperius curse." It was the first time anyone had heard the girl speaking. She had a deeper voice than her father and the way the words were slowly drooling of her tongue made it clear that she wasn't very impressed by Yaxley's words.

Yaxley looked at her, surprised that the girl had dared to speak with him in such a condoling way – if he had a few more brain cells, he would have noticed where she was sitting; Voldemort, reading the man's feeling, answered with evil glee.

"Yaxley, may I introduce you to my daughter, Sarah Riddle."

The addressed man gulped down the words that had most certainly lain on his tongue and replaced them with others.

"Deepest apologies, Milady."

Sarah smirked, but nodded thus accepting his words, fully aware of what he had been thinking before. She enjoyed seeing these strong, powerful men bow to a girl like her. The others meanwhile took in her appearance and scanned her for any weaknesses – they found none; Snape continued.

"They'll be moving Potter on brooms to avoid being detected by the ministry. And they don't know that we are aware of their plans."

"Good work, Severus. I'll lead the attack myself and expect capable ", he pause for a moment to emphasize his words, "flyers. My daughter, Sarah, will join us as well".

The girl nodded, she was a natural on a broom, despite only having been flying for two years.

"And keep in mind, Potter is mine! Make sure to tell that everybody!" Sarah seriously doubted that anyone could have forgotten what her father had done to those having dared to try killing Potter before. He was his. But she guessed that a little reminder and subtle encouragement wouldn't do any harm; they tended to forget quickly.

"Last time, I couldn't kill Potter. You see, his wand and mine share a connection like brothers, unique for wands. They don't want to fight each other which poses a problem…" slowly with calculated movements, Voldemort stood up and started walking around the table; Sarah noticed how masterfully he created tension amongst his followers.

"But there's a very simple solution to this rather annoying problem…A different wand will suffice to rid the world of Potter once and for all." It amused Voldemort's daughter to see how each of her father's followers tensed up when he was behind them – scared for the most valuable possession of a wizard.

Finally, he stopped behind Lucius Malfoy and extended a pale hand.

"My lord?" the patriarch's voice was timid and there were dark rings below his eyes; the man was a shadow from what he'd been when Sarah had first met him.

"Your wand, Lucius!" Voldemort's voice came out forcefully and the blonde man hurried to do as told. However, after his wand was taken, he left his hand open just long enough to make clear that he was expecting something in return. Idiot. And despite the fact that the Dark Lord had been weighting the wand in his hand, that little movement hadn't escaped him.

"You expect my wand in return, Lucius? After all the failure and mistakes of you and your son? Be grateful that this is your only punishment." his voice held something like evil glee and it was clear – if it hadn't been before – that giving his wand to someone as low as Lucius wasn't an option at all.

"My lord, we're honoured to serve you!" Bellatrix eagerly exclaimed, eager to get in her master's good graces.

"Are you, Bellatrix?" The Dark Lord questioned, a little smirk on his lips. "I believe you must be quite proud as well."

"My lord?" she asked.

"Have you not heard that your niece has just married the werewolf Lupin? Quite an honour, I believe." Bellatrix looked like she just ate slugs while the members around here started laughing.

"Enough. I think everyone has someone of… bad blood in their families. It is our duty to correct those mistakes and cleanse them from the magic world."

He paused to let the message sink in and then continued.

"On this count, I'd like to welcome our… guest Professor Charity Burbage." He waved his hand and the body above them moved closer to the table; with another wave it started turning slowly.

"I don't expect anyone to know her, as she teaches Muggle studies at Hogwarts…"

The death eaters looked at the dishevelled and crying woman with evident disgust in their faces.

Bellatrix cackled with disgust, already looking forward to what was bound to happen while the others were throwing insults at her or spitting on the ground. Disbelief and anger were in the air.

Sarah hated her immediately, not for her beliefs, but for her position. She was a teacher in a school, teaching and influencing kids to follow the Order and Potter at an age where they could hardly build their own opinion.

Sarah sneered, but didn't sink as low as to show her disgust more openly. 'Emotions are a weakness our enemies seek to harness against us' her father had told her.

"Severus…" the old teacher was now looking at Snape with pleading eyes. That fool hoped he'd save her while the addressed man's face was bare of emotion.

"Severus, please, help…!" With a flick of his wand, Voldemort silenced the woman.

"… She believes muggles not to be below us, but to be our equals! In her opinion, every wizard should be paired with a muggle! Or better yet, werewolves…"

Lucius' son almost fell from his chair as Voldemort killed her with a flick of his wand.

"Nagini…" he called in Parseltongue, "dinner…" The snake glided from the floor onto the table and slithered towards the body only to bury its teeth in the flesh moments later.

And Sarah wouldn't dare keeping such a meal from her snake.

"Sam, come on, I'm sure Nagini leaves something for you…" She extended her hand so Sam could wrap herself around it.

"Thankssss, mistresssss…" she hissed back before joining Nagini. Some of the death eaters around the body seemed to get sick at the sight. Sarah once did as well, but after some deaths it didn't bother her anymore. Didn't mean she particularly liked it because some humans didn't watch out for what they ate and once, Sam got sick from that.

Her father stood up which effectively ended the meeting and left the room and with him the tension.

One by one, the death eaters bowed to their dark lady and left and soon, only the Malfoys and the brown haired witch were sitting at the table.

As always, Sam brought her owner a piece of meat from the warm body.

"Thanks, Sam, but you can eat it. I don't eat humans."

"Your losssss…" she hissed back before unhinging her mouth and eagerly devouring the piece.

The Malfoys clearly weren't at ease with the situation.

"Did you want a piece, Draco?" Sarah asked and Draco paled even more, if possible.

"No, thank you, milady!" he eagerly declined and she girl smiled. So easy to intimidate them.

"Milady, if you require anything, really anything… just a word and…" Lucius began, but he was cut off.

"Don't even try Lucius, you won't get in my good graces… be grateful that you aren't in my bad ones yet." He gulped at her words and did the first prudent thing that day – choosing to say nothing.

After her snake had finished, Sarah laid it around her neck and left the room to wander around the manor. The muggles she'd lived with had by no means been poor though it was nothing in comparison with the Riddle's fortune. Her fortune, the girl reminded herself. She now had her own vault in Gringotts filled to the edges – enough to support her for multiple lifetimes.

Somewhere between the second and third floor, her companion had fallen asleep on her tongue now flickered in- and outwards of her mouth, touching Sarah's neck. And thought her snake was poisonous, she wasn't afraid of being bitten by her. Though it had happened once when Sam had had a particularly happy dream.

Apart from the Malfoys, her father and herself only Greyback and a few lower-ranking minions were living in the manor. The fourth floor was belonging entirely to the Dark lord and his daughter.

So it was no surprise when a voice called out to her in the snake's tongue.

"Daughter, come here for a moment" and like the dutiful daughter she was, Sarah obeyed and went into her father's office. (AN: When they speak Parseltongue, it will be written in cursive letters)

"I have made plans to institute Severus as the new headmaster in school, along with the Carrows as teachers…" inwardly and carefully hidden behind her thick mental walls she shuddered at the thought of the famous death eater couple in a school.

"I think it is wise if you spent the year at Hogwarts to keep an eye on the students. I feel it's likely that some of Potter's closer friends feel the need to rebel against the new staff; especially mindless Gryffindors..."

It seemed to be a prudent idea, although she'd already taken the OWLs under a different surname. It was the same procedure as if someone was being home-schooled only Sarah had taught herself and submitted it to the ministry instead. They had then graded her work which had received Outstandings except in Herbiology and Divination – Expectations Exceeded and Dreadful.

"What about the meetings or missions?"

"You'll spend most of the time at Hogwarts, but can attend the meetings and maybe minor missions."

That seemed acceptable. Sarah'd never disliked school because she was doing well and although it hadn't been her wish or dream to constantly study, she understood why she had to.

"And alert me immediately, if Potter gets into the castle." Of course, the Horcrux was there, as well; that had briefly escaped her mind.

"How many of them are left?" she asked him; he'd told his daughter that there'd were seven.

"Six, the diary is lost. But I plan on making sure that the horcruxes are safe in their location." He hissed. His daughter might know about the horcruxes, but not about their location. It was not that he didn't trust her, but rather that it wasn't safe for anyone except him to know everything. Divide and conquer.

"I entrust you to organize the hunt for Potter, my daughter" he knew she would competently complete this assignment.

"Of course father, it will be done." Sarah nodded both to Voldemort and Nagini and left. Sam was still deep asleep on her shoulders. Maybe she shouldn't have given her so much to eat….

Sarah knew exactly who could do the tedious work of owling all the death eaters: Lucius Malfoy. He certainly didn't have that much to do since he wasn't a high-ranking death eater anyways. And she assumed that the task was simple enough.

As it happened, they – Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were in their living room, probably to get away from the corpse that was still lying on the table; what was left of it anyway.

"Lucius, I have an assignment for you." Said man quickly stood up and bowed.

"Yes, milady?" he was the perfect picture of someone eager to do whatever is necessary to not receive any negative attention.

"I need you to owl every death eater to ask them whether they can fly while fighting. Tell those who can, that they are to come to the Manor tomorrow evening at 7pm sharp. And only owl those who we can trust to keep their mouths shut – so no low-ranking scum."

"Yes, milady. Certainly, milady!" he nodded with enthusiasm, but it was never wrong to give him some extra incentive.

"I do hope you do exactly as told, otherwise there will be consequences..." Stoking Sam's head, Sarah watched as Lucius nodded and bowed again.

"Draco, you can fly, can't you?" her gaze fell upon the young Malfoy heir. She didn't know him very well; though it was enough to see that he wouldn't participate in the upcoming attack. And as expected, his mother came to her son's help.

"I'm sure you have more qualified people to attack that Potter boy, milady." Narcissa knew neither of them could outright refuse an order by the Dark Lord's daughter – he's made it clear that her orders were to be carried out as if they were his own – and so she had to settle for that mere attempt. Sarah, of course, saw it as what it was, but chose not to say anything.

They required the best men at this job, and Draco most likely wouldn't give his best or would hesitate.

"Coward.." the girl hissed in Parseltongue so they wouldn't understand them, but the Malfoy's apparently got the message anyway as Lucius hurried out of the room to get started while the other two were eying me warily.

Sarah didn't let herself bother by that, sat down on the couch, lifted Sam off her shoulders and placed the snake on her lap to trace the intricate pattern on its skin. This treatment woke Sam and she pressed her head against Sarah's hand, clearly enjoying the treatment.

Now she had to think about how to capture Potter which required coming up with an intricate and fool proof plan…. And silence.

A pointed look later, Draco and his mother lefts the room, because they suddenly remembered they had forgotten something.

- Skip -

The bell of the old wooden watch in the dining room rang seven times, one time for each hour. Seven o'clock pm. Sarah Riddle stood by the wall on the one side of the room, facing the 40 death eaters who were quietly talking amongst themselves; when the girl started talking, it was silent in an instant.

"Is this everyone?" she asked and Lucius nodded.

"Yes, everyone who owled back." to be honest, the brown-haired girl had expected more, but she hoped that quality would subdue quantity.

There were Bellatrix, Rockwood, Yaxley, Snape, Rudolphus to only name a few, apart from those whose names she didn't quite remember because she'd never seen them.

Nevertheless, they were too few.

"I want every third of you to imperius someone to help us in a week. And I don't care who, just make sure that they are skilled and not known to the broad public. We can't risk someone known to disappear..." she paused, making sure everyone had understood.

"... for this mission we'll most likely have to face the best, most skilled and deadliest Aurors... if anyone wants to step out, now is his chance." That the chance also involved torture went unmentioned. But no one did.

She looked into the round.

"For those of you who don't know. We have intelligence that in one week, Harry Potter is scheduled to be moved from his house in Little Whinging to a safe house of the Order of the Phoenix. We are to make sure he never arrives there." This time, no cheers followed as everyone knew of was beginning to get the importance of this mission. And what they were to lose if they failed.

"They'll most likely use brooms, though Yaxley" she nodded towards the older wizard "has...persuaded some of his contacts in the ministry to monitor other means of transport as well. Any questions, so far?" No one spoke.

"The house of Potter's muggle foster parents is heavily warded, so we'll only be able to attack once they are already airborne. I am responsible for the tactics of this attack and if anyone spots a weakness in them, I want to hear it. Those who deliberately choose to stay silent will face punishment. Those who contribute won't...We'll divide ourselves in two groups forming two circles, one surrounding the other. The ones in the middle will be men and women with slower brooms but more duelling experience. Around the first group will be those on fast brooms to prevent Order members from escaping. If you must, buy new brooms, but be subtle about it. Yes, Rudolphus?"

A middle-aged man with a short beard spoke up.

"How many enemies are we talking about?" Sarah had expected that question; the man had the reputation of a good tactician.

"They will most likely be a small group, about one third of forth of our strength. That's why the two groups will be also divided into smaller groups of three or four. They'll keep each other's back clean and go after smaller prey. Remember, no one on one fights. Moody will most likely be there and the other members of the Order aren't bad duellists either. Overwhelm them and take them out one by one! They'll most likely stay in a group to protect Potter or split up to target us from multiple sides. Be smart and flexible about this! Two of you will stay closer to the ground to catch anyone who's been injured and fallen off their brooms."

There was one last thing to be told before they went into the details.

"If anyone spots Potter, they are to call the Dark Lord immediately. Either with the mark or personally, whatever is faster. Remember, he is to be Potter's killer." From the look of their faces, they'd understood - they'd heard often enough.

During the next two hours, they divided themselves into groups and discussed the tactics more deeply: What the weather would most likely be like, who would be suited best in which position, the most likely destinations of Potter and his followers and where to apparate when injured. Some of the death eater's women were quite good at healing charms and most people would forget what happened to the injured. One or two minor flaws were pointed out and corrected and by the time the evening had ended, the plan was standing.

Of course, Sarah had told her father about the plan earlier that day since he was a part of the operation as well; he'd approved with an evil smile.

"We'll avenge him..." he'd hissed.

"I know…" she'd answered.

When everyone had departed, Sarah went to see Draco; he turned out to be in his room.

Thought she had the right and the power to just walk in, the girl chose to be more respectful than necessary and knocked, then waited three seconds before walking into the room.

"What the he... oh, sorry, milady." He didn't wear a shirt for whatever reasons and Sarah had to admit that he had a well toned body, though it didn't attract her in that way.

"I came to give you your assignment. You're one of the medics in the Manor to help treat the injured. You know healing charms?"

"A few."

"Good, make sure to learn some more before the attack; research them if necessary. We'll need them." The best death eaters against the best of the Order; there were sure to be some injured if not worse.

He nodded and Sarah sent him a small smile which caused him to relax a little.

"Are you in love, mistresss... sssmiling at the boy?" Sam quipped up from the ground next to her.

"Definitely not, too cowardly... But he'll work better if feels at ease and doesn't think of the pressure." The snake hissed amused while Draco was looking at them curiously - he wanted to know what they were talking about, but knew better than to ask.

Sam let out a hiss that sounded to Sarah like she was laughing whereas to Draco, it sounded like the opposite.

Over the next few days, the death eaters met two times to practice the manoeuvres and tactics for the impending attack, so they wouldn't collide with their colleagues while the wives and Draco were preparing healing and strengthening potions...

By the day of the attack, they were prepared and ready when being called to the Manor for final preparations. Everyone was suiting up for the mission, which meant putting on their death eater robes and masks; all had brought their brooms, ranging from Cleansweeps to Firebolts.

Sarah herself was in her room, preparing as well.

"You look dassshhhhhing, mistress..." Sam hissed as Sarah was putting on her mask. It was the same as most of the death eaters usually wore, but hers had green strains woven into it, indicating her rank, heritage and position.

"Thanks." she gave the snake a smile.

"Be careful." The girl told Sam.

"Ssssure thing... watchhhh out yoursssselfff asss well... Sssseeeee you in a few hoursss" she hissed back.

Before Sarah left the room to join the rest of her father's followers, she turned around one last time.

"Keep an eye open in the manor, will you? And don't eat the meat in the kitchen, it's for the celebrations!" They both knew that the snake would get more than her fare share later; she always did.

Sarah didn't go downstairs right away, she went to her father's room first; he didn't need to prepare, Merlin, he didn't even need a broom to fly! When his daughter knocked, Voldemort looked up.

"Make sure the death eaters are prepared. We'll depart at dawn." Snape had told them that the Order was scheduled to arrive two hours past dawn.

"Sure"

The death eaters downstairs were ready and talking to each other - some standing around with no expressions on their faces, no doubt imperiused - but fell silent when their leader's heir spoke up.

"Departure in 15 minutes, get ready!" Hastily, everyone checked their brooms and equipment one last time before Voldemort entered the room.

"My friends, tonight, we will see that the Order perishes and the boy who lives dies by my hand." There was nothing else to be said.

Each present person proceeded to cast an desillusion-charm on himself and those who didn't know the spell or on the imperiused ones - they couldn't count on the darkness to hide them from unwanted watchers.

Then they went outside, Voldemort and his daughter at the front and mounted their brooms. Voldemort was the first to take off, others followed suit. Sarah positioned herself on the rear to watch their back. She was flying a Firebolt and thus would be in the outer ring.

The flight took one hour and to say that it was warm outside would be a drastic overstatement. Luckily, Sarah had chosen to wear fingerless gloves that covered her forearms and left enough feeling in the fingers to properly wield a wand. A warming charm did the rest.

They arrived at their destination, an inconspicuous house in a small town next to Little Whinging. Now Pettigrew's job began. He handed his broom to the closest death eater and turned into a rat: The perfect way to get close as close to the Potter's house as the surrounding charm allowed it without being detected. He would remain there until the Order arrived and alert us. Then we'd hide above the clouds.

We entered the house where Samuel, a relatively young death eater was already waiting for us. The building had been inhabited by an old couple until a week ago; now they were dead.

"Uuuhhh, muggle things..." Bellatrix was laughing childishly, looking around in the house and promptly throwing the toaster on the ground. As far as I've heard, she was always like this right before an attack.

Now, we only had to wait for our trap do its work. Everyone spent the time differently: some were destroying all the muggle things they could find - of course charms had been placed on the house that prevented others from noticing us - whereas others just talked amongst themselves. Crabbe and Goyle were in the kitchen.

50 minutes later, a rat entered the door and turned into Pettigrew.

"They are at Potter's house now!" the animagus himself had the task to prevent anyone from hitting the ground and take injured to the manor.

The words did their magic and everyone grabbed their brooms and headed outside. They'd been over the plan so many times, they knew it by heart - hopefully.

Sarah mounted her broom and with a powerful kick, she was in the air. Pressing herself flat to the broom, the others were left behind as she headed to her position. The partners she was assigned to were Crabbe and Goyle, mostly because all teams should be of equal skill and while Crabbe was decent on a broom but not with a wand, Goyle had good wand skills as well, but he couldn't fly that well.

"Looking forward to killing some Order members." Goyle grunted and he and Crabbe fist-boxed each other.

"Pay attention and get to your positions!" Sarah shouted, angry because such things like a lack of attention on the battlefield could be deadly - and the Order could arrive any minute now.

She let her eyes roam the sky, searching for the rest of the death eaters. With their black clothing, they weren't easy to spot - yet those who were visible were all in the correct positions.

Five minutes passed, six minutes... ten minutes...

Then a group burst through the sky: The Order and Potter. Sarah had to hand it to them; they reacted immediately upon spotting their enemies, spread out and headed into different directions.

So far, the inner circle of death eaters was doing well in containing them. Or that was at least what Sarah could see from her position. But the success lasted only for a brief moment before the first death eater was hit and fell from his broom. This seemed to motivate the Order and now they were breaking through the defences - or rather their attackers.

One pair was racing in the direction where Sarah, Crabbe and Goyle were lying low, followed only by one death eater. When they came closer, she recognized them as a large black man and a boy with black, unruly hair. Shacklebolt and Potter. And they were on - a Thestral?

"Come on!" Crabbe shouted, immediately flying towards. Sarah wanted to shout that he was too close to deflect any incoming curses. He was bad with a wand and at such a distance, he'd stand no change.

"Stupefy!" Potter shouted and his aim was true. Crabbe was falling from his broom, not a scream escaping his lips, stunned. Goyle immediately changed his course to catch the fallen death eater, his best friend, so only Sarah and the nameless death eater were left. Voldemort's daughter was on the verge of pressing the dark mark on her right forearm when she heard the death eater shouting behind her, recognizing him as Samuel.

"There are multiple Potters! Polyjuice potion!" Clever... if Sarah called her father now, she would probably only call him to the wrong target and Potter would get away. No, she would wait until she was sure it was Potter sitting on the back of the animal.

It turned out that Sarah had underestimated the Thestral's speed and the distance between them was slowly growing bigger and bigger. Samuel had it worse than Sarah because his broom was a lot slower than her Firebolt. Soon it were only Sarah and her two targets left, Samuel having been left behind.

The Auror and Potter were now changing directions frantically, trying to throw her off, all while shooting curses at Sarah. The girl had given up on deflecting their curses which would only cost her valuable speed, time and distance. Instead, she pressed herself flat to the broom to minimize the target and simply avoided the streams of light. The longer the chase was taking, the more she was wondering why Potter wasn't flying on a broom when his flying skills were well known and spoken of. She rolled to the side just in time to avoid a stunner. Damn, that had been close! Still, the distance was glowing slightly.

Sarah chose to change tactics and instead pressed the handle of her broom downwards to get to a lower altitude. This new angle would make it virtually impossible for them to hit Sarah and she could avoid falling further behind them by avoiding curses. Somewhen, they had to reach their destination and stop! She only had to wait and be patient.

Apparently, they had noticed her strategy and turned sharp right, giving Potter a possibility to cast another curse at her. She avoided it, again only by centimetres. The boy-who-lived, or whoever was sitting behind Shacklebolt had a good aim, Sarah had to give it to him. Now a second target would be quite useful.

Why had Goyle flown after Crabbe, they had death eaters who were supposed to catch them! Goyle, however, was supposed to help Sarah hunt Order members! She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as the Thestral was turning again and another curse was fired, right towards her!

"Protego!" she hardly managed to deflect it with her wand this time, having barely had time to point in the right direction.

But it cost her speed and she pressed herself against the broom again, pushing it to full speed. But it appeared that they were slowing down and losing altitude - Sarah followed their movements. Yes, they were definitely nearing their destination and she was closing in on them. 200 metres were becoming hundred... ninety... eighty.

Then she hit something and everything went black.

Hermione had thought they'd never lose the last death eater who was following them. So far, he'd managed to avoid all her curses while Shacklebolt was busy flying the Thestral. But at least, they didn't have to bother with avoiding curses themselves as their follower apparently had trouble keeping up with them.

It had been a relief when the Auror sitting in front of her announced that they'd pass the protective shield surrounding the safe house in a few minutes. From that barrier, only 400 metres lay between them and the portkey and so they'd slowed down and reduced their altitude.

Their follower apparently was smart and went lower as well to keep the angle, but used their reduced speed to catch up to them. But it didn't matter, as he wouldn't be able to get past the shields.

Suddenly, Hermione felt the magic shift around her and knew that they'd reached their safe haven. In front of her, Shacklebolt exhaled the breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding.

Hermione looked behind her again and saw their opponent still following them, before he crashed into the barrier which to him was in fact quite a solid wall. Limply, he fell the last twenty metres towards the ground which he hit quite hard. He didn't move. With a little luck for him and bad luck for them, he might have survived.

"He's hit the shield and is out cold!" she shouted against the wind crashing against her face.

"We're clear!" Surprisingly, Shacklebolt turned the Thestral around and flew back.

"What are you doing? We should get to the Portkey!" Hermione shouted, but he didn't change direction.

"They knew we'd move tonight. Someone must have leaked it, maybe he can tell us who it was! We might not get another chance like this..." he shouted back and upon looking on the limp body on the ground, "let's hope he survived!"

They landed about 50 metres from the death eater and got off their means of transport. With their wands at the ready they advanced.

"Keep an eye on the sky, we might have other followers!" Shacklebolt advised and Hermione nodded.

From a distance, the black Auror cast a stupefy on the fallen death eater to make sure he was out cold and not only pretending so he could kill them in surprise. You never knew how far death eaters would go to archive their goal.

Carefully, they stepped out of the protective shield and Shacklebolt went to his knees to check the body while Hermione kept watching the sky.

"He's heavily injured, I can heal some of the serious wounds her so we can transport him!"

"Then make it fast!" Hermione urged, not quite feeling save outside the barrier.

Shacklebolt began muttering spells and complicated charms while moving his wand over the death eater's body. One of the legs that had pointed in the wrong direction snapped back into place. But the 'stupefy' prevented him from waking up.

"Incarcerous" the Auror said and ropes appeared out of nowhere, wrapping themselves around the ankles of their enemy and binding the hands to the body.

"Let's see who you are?" Shacklebolt muttered and pointed his wand at the mask still obscuring their follower's identity from them. The mask vanished and to be truthful, neither of them had expected what they were seeing now.

The death eater was in fact a woman- no, a girl, who looked barely of age. She had dark brown hair, which was bound into a French braid which surrounded her bloody face.

"Damn. Voldemort must have changed his recruitment policy..." he cursed and Hermione gulped. That meant they had to fight against teenagers now - children who weren't allowed to drink or vote!

Snapping out of their momentary trance, Shacklebolt picked up the girl's wand, levitated the body with his own and they went back into the protection provided by the shield. Neither of the two talked on their way to the house, the shock and relieve of having survived still in their bones.

For Hermione, it was strange to see someone her age fighting for You-know-who's side. Well, she did fight for one side as well, but she had never encountered someone like her on the battlefield until now. Shacklebolt was still pondering about what that revelation meant for the Order - was it only a single case of a child soldier or were there others?

As they were approaching, the house turned out to be the exact opposite of the Burrow. Basically, it just looked like every other muggle house in London's suburbs. They knocked three times - their code just in case someone managed to penetrate the shield - and after a few seconds, the door was opened.

The old woman behind it quickly waved them in and looked at the limp body with alarm.

"What happened?" she managed to get out.

"They knew we were transporting Potter today, maybe we can get some intelligence out of her - though I doubt he would entrust her with much information..."

He was interrupted by Hermione who started groaning. The Polyjuice potion was starting to wear off, which wasn't always pleasant. The black hair started falling out, the glasses fell to the ground and it must have been quite a strange and potentially painful feeling to feel the bones shifting, growing and shrinking.

After half a minute, Harry's appearance was replaced be Hermione's.

"Well, don't tell me more than necessary." she looked at the watch. "Hurry! The Portkey activates in half a minute!" She rushed into a room and they followed her. The old bottle of beer was glowing already and they just managed to place their fingers on it before feeling the familiar tuck; Shacklebolt holding onto their prisoner.

Hermione hit the ground hard and the air was pressed out of her lungs. Shacklebolt on the other hand was just standing there, having thrown the body over his shoulder.

"Damn it, you'll have to show me how to do that!" Hermione told him and Shacklebolt grinned, but it was vanished by the fact that they'd been betrayed. And now they didn't know who'd already arrived.

Walking towards the door, Shacklebolt knocked and they were greeted by Remus Lupin, who was pointing his wand at them.

"Professor Lupin!" Hermione exclaimed, but he didn't put his weapon down, eying Shacklebolt with mistrust.

"The last words Albus Dumbledore directed at us?" Without hesitation, the Auror answered.

"Harry's our last hope. Trust him" This apparently convinced Lupin and he put his wand down before exhaling.

"Man, am I glad that you made it... who's that?" he gestured towards the girl.

"Captured death eater, maybe we can get some information out of her."

"Put her onto the couch, we'll do it later. George was injured... the other ones aren't here yet..." he managed a weak smile. "Harry made it."

At that, Hermione raced into the house and towards the loud voices. "Harry!" she jumped at her best friend and hugged him tightly.

"I am so happy you made it!"

"Yeah, me too! Good to see you!" he chuckled.

They then told each other what had happened on their different journeys and how they had managed to get here. In the meantime, Shacklebolt had laid the body onto the floor as the couch was already occupied by a bleeding George. The atmosphere was still tense, because some members were still missing.

The golden trio was complete again when Ron and Tonks appeared. Every arrival was a small celebration, a small reassurance and flicker of hope that everyone would make it. After that, Mr. Weasley and Fred came through the door - both of them immediately went to see George who managed to crack a joke despite his condition. And it was clear that Fred was pretty glad that his brother hadn't lost his humour.

The saddest moment came when Bill and Fleur arrived and solemnly told them that Mad-Eye had been killed by Voldemort himself. They made plans for retrieving his body - without Harry, that is - and discussed what to do now - the topic of Voldemort using child solders worrying all of them.

Then a groan from the ground interrupted them.

Her head hurt. So did her whole body and a groan escaped her lips. This didn't feel like her bed... too hard. Sarah opened her eyes, but her vision was fuzzy like colours were just mixed together with no real shape. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was being in Malfoy manor. No, she'd been flying! The girl tried to stand up, but found she couldn't move. She couldn't move... panic erupted in her chest and she tried again. And again, but the result stayed the same.

Her arms were pushing against some sort of resistance. Not, not simple resistance, restraints! She was bound and by the feeling of it lying on the floor or another hard ground.

As her thoughts became cleaner and cleaner, her vision did so as well. Voldemort's daughter was indeed lying on the floor and her arms and legs were bound. Some faces were staring down at her; she blinked and the faces became those of the Order of the Phoenix: Lupin, Shacklebolt, the Weasleys, Potter, his sidekicks and the giant.

Despite the restraints, she felt hate rushing through her veins, so hot that Sarah could have sworn that her body would erupt in fire. She didn't say anything, thought, because that's what they'd been told to do when captured; hell, she had told the death eaters herself, thinking it would never happen to her.

They lifted her off ground and roughly placed her on a chair. She was still wriggling against the restraints, but they wouldn't budge.

"There's no use in that." the werewolf said and she glared at him, but stopped struggling because there was truth in his words and it would only drain her energy. Instead, she made a quick diagnose of her body and her injuries. Her hands were bleeding and her robes were drenched in blood. There most likely was a cut in her face and bruises all over her body; apart from that, she seemed to be fine.

"We've healed the serious injuries." His voice may not hold any real hostility, but she knew better than to be persuaded by his lack of animosity. They wanted information, which they wouldn't get. She instead used the time to reinforce her mental walls should they use legilimency against her and to observe her surroundings.

She was in a house of some sort, duh. It didn't seem dirty, but a few things were lying around. The atmosphere could have been quite cosy if she wouldn't have been tied to a chair: there were colourful tapestries on the walls and a lot of old, wooden furniture that seemed like heirlooms.

"From where did you know we would move Harry today?" a deep, calming voice interrupted her. Shacklebolt. Sarah glared at him, but didn't answer.

"Let's try again. Who are you and who told you about our plan?" Lupin tried. Same question, same result. Silence. She could tell that the pure hatred in her eyes seemed to irritate some of the Weasleys and the 'golden trio', as Draco called them.

"Don't make it harder than it has to be. Just answer us." Sarah closed her eyes and started humming. An exasperated sigh.

"This questioning doesn't lead anywhere..." when she felt someone coming closer, she opened her eyes, alarmed. But it was just Lupin, bending down so he was now on eye-level with her.

Before he could say anything, though, Sarah spat him in the face. But the result was not one she'd expected; instead he just calmly wiped his face. Potter, however, went red with rage and Weasley and Granger had to calm him down; that drew a smirk on the girl's face.

"Remus" Shacklebolt laid his hand on the man's shoulder. "We can't avoid what has to be done and you know it. I don't like it either, but it's the only way to find out who told them about our plan and to get intelligence that could save lives."

Lupin sighted, stood up and stepped back, a regretting look on his face. When Shacklebolt drew his wand, Sarah started to feel uneasy. The sentence and the wand combined didn't exactly promise something good. Apparently, the others came to the same conclusion.

"Kingsley, you can't just do this!" Granger exclaimed and the Weasley matriarch seemed to share her sentiment. Some of the others seemed to agree with her.

"I have to, Hermione. Trust me, I don't like this either, but it's war. This information could prevent another death like Mad-Eye's today." Ah, apparently Moody had been killed today. Sarah only hoped it hadn't been quick.

"But what about using Veritaserum?" Molly Weasley asked.

"We have someone brewing it, but it takes another month until we can use it. Snape's vials are destroyed because frankly, I don't trust him to give us working potions." Kingsley answered.

Fools, if they still had vials from Snape before he killed Dumbledore, they could have used them – his potions must have worked because otherwise he couldn't have remained a spy for so long.

Her thoughts of revenge were interrupted, however when Shacklebolt pointed his wand at her; she knew what was to come and tried to prepare herself.

"Crucio." He didn't say it with any malice in his tone, but the pain was indescribable nonetheless. Sarah felt like every fibre of her body was on fire, like her legs and arms were ripped from their sockets.

Her tries not to scream failed entirely as the pain was overwhelming her. She screamed in agony, thrashed against the restraints so hard that she fell from the chair, but the torture continued. Sarah didn't know how long it lasted, but she wanted this to stop so badly. Thousands of nails were piercing her skin now, all while being burned alive. Then, it stopped.

Sarah coughed and tried to breath. At first it was difficult, because her body was in desperate need of oxygen that the screaming had robbed her of, but after a few seconds it became easier.

A pair of strong yet surprisingly gentle hands heaved her back onto the chair.

"We will stop if you tell us what we want to know. How did you know about our plan?" Shacklebold asked, but to no use.

"Come on, just tell us. Why do you fight for his side? You don't understand what will happen if Voldemort wins…. We can protect you from him, if you want and if you tell us about his source…"

So they assumed she was blackmailed into doing this… the truth couldn't be farther from it.

When she didn't open her mouth and just glared at all of them with hatred, Shacklebold raised his wand again.

This time, she only lasted five seconds before screams echoed around the room. Sarah tried to calm her mind and retreat into a save place in there, but it didn't work. Heat and coldness shot through her body, creating a most painful combination. Somewhere in her mind, based on the pure need for this torture to stop, a plan formed. Well, not really a plan, but an action.

She purposely fell from the chair because of her convulsing body – not that she needed to help it much – and landed on the floor, writhing and wringing.

Her mind was clouded with agony and the only parts that were still functional screamed for the pain to stop. And there was only one way for it to stop.

Taking all her strength and willpower together, she banged her head against the ground that was made out of stone. Once, twice, three times… the spell was removed from her body and Sarah felt blood pouring from her head, feeling dizzy… four times, five times, six times.

The last thing she felt were hands trying to get her off the ground and to stop her, but one last bang on the ground and she didn't know more.

- Time skip-

It was unspoken consent that they didn't like having to torture somebody. But they all understood – it could prevent another Mad-Eye. Another death. Yet, neither liked it but nobody had the willpower to just tell everyone to stop.

At least nobody had, until the girl fell off her chair again and started banging her head against the ground. At first, it seemed like a reaction to the immense pain: Often people hurt themselves because it was simply a way to control the hurt that came with it.

So Hermione expected the girl to stop and collapse after the Auror had ended the spell. To her surprise, however, she continued banging head against stone, blood pouring from her face.

"Stop her!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, her face showing utter disbelief and terror, but she didn't need to say it.

Hagrid was already reaching for the girl on the ground to place her back on a chair when she went limp after her head had connected with the floor one more time.

"She's unconscious." He stated, picking the limp body up in his giant arms and gently laying it on the nearby table. Blood was still pouring from the wound on her forehead and Mrs. Weasley rushed to the girl with her wand at the ready, muttering healing charms.

"She needs rest ", nobody dared to disagree, although no one really wanted to continue after what they'd just witnessed.

"Hagrid, take her upstairs to Bill's old room. Bill, you stay with Fleur." Hagrid did as asked, while Fleur and Bill exchanged questioning yet happy glances - despite the situation. The Weasley Matriarch had never allowed them to sleep together in the Burrow.

"I'll ward the room" Kingsley threw in and followed the Giant who was already heading upstairs, leaving the others to ponder about what they'd just witnessed.

- Skip -