Chapter 1: Receiving the Mission
The shuffling of light paced footsteps caused me to look up from the floor. It was already passed lunch time, which meant that is wasn't someone bringing a meal. I sat up, cross-legged, and peered carefully at the door. The footsteps stopped outside my door. There was a faint shuffling around and a click as the door was unlocked. I tipped my head to the side. Metal grinded against wood as the door opened. It was opened slowly, almost like a dramatic scene is a novel. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. The face of a woman emerged, her skin pasty. She had wild, dark hair that was frizzy and untamed. Her eyes were even darker than her hair and they danced with malice and mirth. She walked in- sauntered is more accurate- and stopped directly in front of me.
"It looks as though you are not a complete waste after all," the woman hissed, "He's calling for you."
I gave her my best pointed look, "I feel so special, Bellatrix," I drawled slowly, a habit I picked up over the years.
"You should," Bellatrix Lestrange snarled, grabbing my hair and pulling me to my feet, "Come now, Arcadia."
I resisted the urge to lash out at the vile woman. She spoke in such a nauseatingly sweet tone one moment, and then hissed like a snake the next. I merely narrowed my eyes. Bellatrix gave my hair a sharp tug, leading me out of my room like a dog on a leash. She was merciless, as usual, not once stopping when I stumbled over my own feet.
"Don't be sour," I muttered darkly, "Just because I'm not yours doesn't mean you have to be a complete cow."
I was rewarded with another sharp tug on my hair. My roots felt like they were on fire by now. Bellatrix chose not to acknowledge my words. Smart woman. If she had harmed me in any other way than directed, my father would not have been pleased. My name is Arcadia Synaldine Riddle, though my full name is never used. I never once met my mother; rumor was that she died in childbirth. Rubbish, in my opinion. To be quite blunt, my father is Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He is a monster and a fiend, and I hate him with all my being. He has no heart; I doubt he ever had one in the first place. I can't say I look like him because he has become hideously deformed. He looks more like a snake than a human.
My own hair is long- it falls down to my waist- and it is a deep ebony color. I have shockingly blue eyes; a great contrast to my dark hair. They must have been a trait inherited from my mother. For as long as I can remember, I've been stuck at Malfoy Manor. My father, now back from near-death, uses it as his "headquarters". The Malfoys are a family of purebloods. They are obsessed with blood status and absolutely hate anyone who isn't a pureblood. Stupid fucks pointedly ignore the fact that my own father is only a half-blood.
The bang of opening doors snapped me out of my thoughts. Bellatrix led me into a large dining hall. It was ornately decorated with chandeliers and other expensive décor. A long oak table sat in the middle of the room. The table was dotted with people; my father at the head, an empty spot reserved for Bellatrix, Severus Snape, all three Malfoys, Rudolphos Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, and an assortment of other Death Eaters. At out arrival, all eyes snapped in our direction.
"Very good, Bellatrix," my father said, his voice like the smooth slither of a snake.
Bellatrix bowed low, yanking me down with her, "Thank you, My Lord."
I made a sound of protest, my hands flying to where Bellatrix had my hair wrapped up in her claw. There was no way that I was going to bow to my father, no matter the circumstance. Slowly, my father's eyes slid from his most faithful servant to me. We were locked in a staring contest for a few minutes.
"How nice of you to join us, Arcadia," he murmured.
"My pleasure," I retorted carelessly.
"Let her go now, Bellatrix, you've done enough," Voldemort snapped.
Chastised, Bellatrix relinquished her hold on me and slunk back to her chair. I was left, standing alone and rubbing at my aching head.
"What is this all about?" I demanded before anyone could speak. I glared at everyone with what I hoped was a threatening expression. Angry murmurs rose from the Death Eaters, but my father raised a hand to silence them.
"How old are you, daughter?" he asked.
"Sixteen, as of yesterday," I answered somberly.
"Ah, a happy birthday indeed," my father seemed adequately pleased, "And you are tired of being stuck here?"
"Yes," I raised my eyebrows. What was he going on about? He never once asked a question like that in all my sixteen years of life.
My father folded his hands on the table. His wand was held lightly between his long fingers. Nagini, his enormous python, slithered from the table onto the floor and over to me feet. She watched me with slit-like eyes, hissing lowly under her breath. I didn't even flinch away from her. Instead, I glared at her indifferently. Snakes had no effect on me, since I was around them so much.
"I have something, Arcadia, for you to do," my father smiled- a sickening sight to behold.
Placing my hands on my hips, I raised my chin defiantly, "And what would that be?"
Nagini hissed louder at my tone. My father, however, seemed amused. My little displays of teenage defiance always amused him, or made him angry.
"As you know, Draco attends Hogwarts. He will be entering into his sixth year of school, same as you would be. I have given him a task to complete this year," he paused. I waved my hand for him to continue, "I want you, my dear, to attend Hogwarts with him."
I stared at him in disbelief. Was he actually giving me a chance to get away?
"You would be under the watch of Severus and Draco, of course," There went that plan, "So no trying to escape. You would be introduced as Arcadia Malfoy, Draco's cousin whom has been homeschooled for most of your life."
I waited for the catch. There was always a catch. My hands still perched on my hips, I walked closer to the table of Death Eaters.
"And why, pray tell, would I do that?" I leaned forward onto the balls of my feet. Nagini slid up onto the table, her grey and green scales glistening in the dim light. Her pink tongue flicked out of her mouth, tasting the air. Brazenly, I slid a hand over her smooth back. Nagini tensed and hissed at my touch. I locked eyes with my father the entire time. It was a way of challenging him. With one flick of the wrist, he could have Nagini kill me. But he wouldn't.
"Get close to the students," my father hissed, keeping me in his intense stare, "Especially Potter. Earn their trust."
It took a moment to muster, but I allowed a sinister smile to stretch my lips for a brief ten seconds. All it took was that little action to earn the trust- if that's what you can call it- from my father. I never acted out against him- minus my teenage defiance. He knew nothing of my burning hatred for him. I played the good girl role. I listened to him, kept my mouth shut, mostly. I didn't need words to express myself. My actions, however small, spoke loudly. So with a little arch of my brow and the folding of my arms, all knew that I had accepted my father's "generous" offer.
"Very good, Arcadia," Voldemort settled back in his chair.
"She lies, My Lord!" Bellatrix screeched, "She doesn't even bare the Dark Mark!"
My eyes snapped to her, a sudden fire flaring up inside me. There are times where I was consumed with darkness so fierce that I knew I was my father's child. I always tried my hardest to stifle this darkness, push it into the furthest corner of my mind. Still, it was more powerful than I, and at its strongest when I was angered. My fists clenched tightly and I hissed. Without warning, Bellatrix dropped from her seat. Earsplitting shrieks pierced the air, rising from her twitching form. Nothing seemed to physically touch her, yet she screamed as though electrocuted. This gruesome form of torture went on for another minute before her screams subsided and her body slumped in exhaustion. No one spoke. I broke my eye contact with her, a smug grimace settling on my lips.
"There's no room for you to talk," I said softly. My father said nothing, made no move to stop me. My sudden bursts of power intrigued him.
I kept my voice deadly calm and devoid of all emotion. Mentally, I was crumbling. I was literally as low as my father.
Bellatrix looked up and I could see pure hatred churning in her black eyes. Without flinching, I rolled up sleeve. On my left arm was the Dark Mark. A skull, one with a sinister look, was tattooed skillfully there. A snake slithered in and out of the skull, baring its fangs. To anyone, it looked like a normal tattoo- minus the fact that it moved- but it was much more than that. I stared down at the mark and heard Bellatrix inhale sharply. She tried to look away in anger, but I grabbed her chin, forcefully making her look. I had received my Dark Mark in secret. No one but my father had known. I felt a new stare on me and I looked up. My blue eyes met the curious grey gaze of the youngest Malfoy. He wasn't looking at my mark, like everyone else, but was watching my face with mild intensity. He wasn't repulsed by the mark- he had received his own after all. Rolling my sleeve down again and pushing Bellatrix away, I addressed everyone,
"Anyone else like to object?"
No one replied. There was only a dumbstruck silence. I rolled my eyes. *Idiots,* I thought bitterly. Without bowing to my father, I spun on my heel and skipped out of the room.
"You leave in two days, Arcadia," My father's soft voice trailed behind me.
(Here is the first Chapter of my story, Ultranumb. What do you think? Love it? Hate it? Too boring? Did I portray everyone okay? This is a bit AU, though. Remember: I don't own Harry Potter, only Arcadia. Please let me know what you think in a review!)