I don't own Harry Potter, only the randomness I make up. The first chapter is just setting the story, introducing Voldemort's daughter and Dumbledore kind of explaining what's going on. Hope you enjoy! XD
…o0Love Sandy0o…
The curtains framing the top most bedroom window of the Burrow rustled slightly as a warm, gentle breeze blew through the calm night. The breeze weaved its way into the room where four boys slumbered, three of which - the red-haired three - slept peacefully in their four-poster beds; the fourth however, was not. The fourth boy had messy, jet-black hair and a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.
The boy, whose name was Harry Potter, was tossing and turning as a vision filled his head; a vision that had never been seen through his eyes. It was being seen by his arch enemy, Lord Voldemort, but Harry was seeing it as though it was ihim/i there, talking in a low hiss.
i"The plan will work as long as you are loyal to me," Harry said to a man kneeling before him. Harry was sitting in a high backed chair. He seemed to be bending over, for the back went higher than it should have. The room around him was covered in a thick layer of dust.
"I am loyal, My Lord. I will serve you well," said the man before him, looking at the ground, feeling unworthy to look Harry in the face.
"My Lord, I can do it for you, you know I'm loyal to you, I came back to you," a rather rounded man squeaked. The man was going bald and slightly resembled a rat. Upon Wormtail's statement, the man on the floor shot him a deadly glare, making Wormtail recoil slightly.
"I have told you before, I need you here; otherwise I will die," Harry hissed in anger - he was getting sick of telling him over and over again.
"Wormtail, if you make my father repeat himself one more time, I will take much pleasure in torturing you, keeping you just barely alive, of course, so you can stillattend to my father," a girl around fourteen spat at the man. Harry could not see the girl's face, for she was standing in front of the lit fireplace with her back to him. The girl had silky black hair that came down in tuffs. He could not tell much more than that, except that the firelight made her skin glow a radiant golden orange.
"Now, now, I know he can be insufferable, but he has his /iusesi," Harry told his daughter as he chuckled slightly at her ability to make Peter Pettigrew, informally known as Wormtail, cower like the useless rat he was. She and her father were so much alike. To say he was impressed by her progress was an understatement, considering the impurities that came with her. She was much more powerful then he had ever hoped. Unfortunately she had numerous creatures inside of her that caused her to be impure.
"If you say so, Father," the girl mumbled back, turning her head slightly to look at him before looking back into the fire. As she had turned her head, the firelight had caught her eyes and, if Harry was not mistaken, it looked as though they were of no colour, just as transparent as glass with a blank gaze.
"Wormtail, do not worry. The plan will succeed, for my daughter is the main component to the plan and, after all, I went to a lot of extremes to give her the best strength, agility, and overall power. She is a weapon for our side," Harry said with a smirk at the girl's back as she once again looked over her shoulder at her father, her thick hair obscuring her face. "Although, you will need to disguise yourself. You look too much like me, when I was human. As much as I hate my human life, I have to admit, I had a lot of admirers."
"Only to those that know what you looked like, I do. To everyone else though, I'll not look like anybody particularly special," the girl said, turning around to face her father. The firelight shone behind her, making her look like nothing but a silhouette.
"Very well," Harry replied, before turning his attention back to the man kneeling before him. "Go get Jeremy Pickett; he must be punished for his training of my daughter being sub-par. Such humanity cannot be tolerated."
The man did not hesitate before getting up and hurrying out of the room.
"Father, I have no humanity," Harry's daughter defended herself.
"Yes, but you almost did," Harry replied, just as a man with dirty blond hair that looked as though it had not been combed in weeks walked in, followed closely by the man sent out to fetch him. "Pickett, you have failed your task."
"My Lord, I did as you asked, I placed the magical essence of the creatures you told me to into the weapon. I did as you asked!" Pickett protested.
"Ah, but you didn't; I did not ask you to place humanity in her," Harry hissed, anger flaring from his red eyes. The next minute, he found himself getting annoyed and snapping at his disobedient servant. "I will not have this! If we let this continue, she may do something very dangerous and useless." He paused and then seethed, "Like falling in love."
"But, my Lord, I -"
"/iCrucioi!"/i
As Pickett's screams filled the chamber while he was tortured, Harry woke up in a cold sweat with three red heads standing over him with concerned expressions.
"Harry, mate, are you all right?" Fred Weasley asked.
"You were having a nightmare," Ron Weasley explained.
"No, no, I wasn't. I was seeing through his eyes, I had to be!" Harry whispered, shaking his head.
"Whose eyes?" George Weasley asked.
"Voldemort's." Upon speaking the dark wizard's name, a shiver went through the Weasleys; they were not accustomed or comfortable with hearing it.
"It was just a bad dream," said George, in an attempt to reassure Harry, even though he himself had paled.
"No, it wasn't; it was different. There was four other people there… Wormtail, another man I didn't get the name of, Jeremy Pickett, who raised Voldemort's daughter, that was the last one in the room," Harry explained, his eyes tightly shut.
"I'll go get Mum and Dad," George stated, heading to the door.
"I'm not imagining it!" Irritation was dripping off of Harry's sentence as he sat up to look at George.
George hung his head and sighed before turning to look at Harry. "I know, Harry, but if what you saw is really happening then we're gonna need Dumbledore, and Mum and Dad are the only ones that know how to contact him."
"So you believe me?" Harry asked his friends.
"We have to; you'd never lie about something like this," Ron replied, who, like George, was extremely pale underneath his freckles.
"Good," Harry said, with a nod of his head.
"Oh, Harry, dear, are you all right?" Mrs. Weasley asked, running into the room and engulfing Harry in a hug. Mr. Weasley and George followed Mrs. Weasley into the room, but stood near the door.
"Mum, give him some air," instructed Fred with a roll of his eyes.
Mrs. Weasley shushed Fred and held Harry at arm's length. "Now, Harry, what was your dream about? George said you saw what You-Know-Who saw?"
"Yeah, he was talking to his daughter, but he and his followers referred to her as a weapon," Harry explained.
"We should get Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley stated from his position by the door. "If You-Know-Who has a daughter, then that can't be good. He might not be strong enough to try and take control of the world, but his daughter might be. Do you think she is, Harry?"
"I don't know," Harry replied with a shake of his head. "She was about fourteen but the way she threatened Wormtail… well, you could tell she could back it up and apparently Pickett put magical essence of creatures into her."
"We definitely need Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley said, before heading out the door.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
The crowded kitchen was unusually silent as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, their children, along with a bushy brunette named Hermione Granger and a still shaken Harry, waited for the arrival of the headmaster of six, out of of the eleven, people in the room. The air was thick with panic. It was not every day that one finds out the darkest wizard to ever live has a daughter that could be just as, if not more, powerful than her father.
Everyone gave a little start when someone knocked on the door and Mr. Weasley rushed to open it to admit Professor Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard to date.
"Would it be inappropriate to say, 'Good evening'?" greeted Dumbledore, walking into the shabby kitchen.
Dumbledore's greeting was mumbled in return before the old man got to work, concern on his face. "Harry, can you explain to me what you saw?"
Harry swallowed and tried to remember details of the vision. "Um… Wormtail was there, some other man, and someone named Jeremy Pickett. He was the one that raised Voldemort's daughter. She and Pickett were there, and Voldemort was too."
A thoughtful look settled on Dumbledore's face as both he and Harry ignored the shivers that went through the other occupants of the kitchen when the Dark Lord's name was spoken.
"Interesting," he mumbled but didn't elaborate. It was obvious he knew what was going on; he just wasn't going to say.
"You know, I can tell," Harry exclaimed.
"Harry, you are much too young to find out now," Dumbledore informed him softly.
"Please, sir, I need to know what is going on. Is that girl real or was it ijust/i a dream? You have to tell me," Harry begged, a look of pleading on his face. He needed answers or he would never be able to sleep again. "I won't be able to sleep unless I know and I want the trust. Please, professor, don't think I'm too young to know. I ineed/i to know!"
Dumbledore sighed. It was clear that it was against his better judgement to tell Harry what was going on, but he knew he had to if the boy was to ever get peaceful sleep again. "What is interesting, Harry, is it seems as though you have a connection with Voldemort. I did believe this might happen, and I wish I could have waited till you were older to tell you, but I believe you are correct. You need to know," Dumbledore stated more to himself than to Harry and the others. He seemed to be off in his own little world as he started pacing. "During this connection you would most likely not think of yourself as Harry Potter, you would not think of yourself as anyone, you would not have a sense of good or bad. You would simply ibe/i. Hence the reason you would be able to see a place you have never been, without your brain registering that it is impossible."
During Dumbledore's explanation, Harry was trying to remember how he felt so that he would be able to confirm or deny what Dumbledore was telling him. As he thought, his scar began to throb painfully. That was when it happened for the second time that night. Harry lost all sense of himself once again.
As his heart became cold and his mind strong, Harry returned to the filthy room, lying miles away from his body. This time there were only three occupants in the room: Voldemort, his daughter, and Jeremy Pickett.
iJeremy lay on the dust covered floor in a heap, weak from his torture. Harry was still in his high back chair, his daughter crouching down extraordinarily close to the threshold of the fire.
"Do you think he's had enough?" Harry asked his daughter.
"I don't know, I could think of a few other things to try on him," his daughter replied, looking into the fire's depths.
"Oh really? Well then, show me," Harry ordered with a smirk, with what felt like oddly misshaped lips.
Wordlessly, the mysterious girl stuck her hand into the fire's depths and pulled out a long, thick stick that was ablaze. The girl was unharmed and unfazed by the fact that she was holding a burning piece of wood as she walked over to the whimpering man.
Harry's daughter crouched down over the man and turned her head to observe him as she brought the tip of the stick to meet his bare skin.
Screams filled the chamber as the two Riddles watched with sheer amusement. "Father, why do you hate love so much? What is… love?" the girl asked suddenly.
"Never mind that. It is not important," Harry replied sharply, anger flaring up inside him.
"But how am I to understand it if you will not explain what it is?" the girl questioned.
"I/i said,i never mind," Harry demanded, his temper bubbling to the surface.
As a response, his daughter merely tilted her head to the side as though she was registering his frustration but did not particularly care./i
As Voldemort's temper reached an all time high, Harry was sent back to his body at the Burrow, shakier than before.
"Harry, are you all right?" Mrs. Weasley asked, crouching down in front of Harry.
"Yeah, I think so," Harry chocked out. "I saw them again. It was just Pickett, Voldemort, and his daughter this time."
"Harry, do I have permission to use a memory revealing charm on you to allow me to see what you witnessed both times?" Dumbledore asked.
The messy haired boy looked around the overstuffed kitchen, consisting mainly of red heads, before nodding his agreement.
"Very well, this will not hurt, I promise. iRevealis Memo-tes/i," said Dumbledore, giving his wand a flick towards Harry's temple, stopping a mere centimetre from it.
The visions materialised before them and it seemed as though the cosy Weasley kitchen had been completely overrun by the filthy chamber. The faces of the people were even more unclear than when Harry had first seen them because of the haziness of his memory.
The Weasleys and Hermione stood mortified as Voldemort's hissing voice met their ears. They flinched as the screams of poor Jeremy Pickett filled the Burrow.
"Very intriguing," Dumbledore said as the chamber disappeared and the Weasley kitchen returned.
"Sorry, sir, but what is?" Hermione asked politely, always wishing for knowledge.
"What is intriguing, Miss Granger, is that, although it is definable by some, all have felt love. People feel love for family and friends, but they know love is especially powerful when they love a partner and are loved in return. This girl does not know any of this, which means she probably hasn't felt it, and yet she is at risk of humanity," Dumbledore explained, leaving everyone more confused than before.
Seeing their faces he went on, playing with his beard as he talked. "I believe she is a Child of the Dark. It does not necessarily mean she is evil, but it does mean she was created, or at least tampered, by the Dark Arts. These humans are actually created in a cauldron out of two people's DNA and then inseminated into a female after the creator has selected the child's looks, personality and a few super natural powers, which, of course, are optional. Voldemort can decide whether to make her a normal child or an abnormal one. He has obviously chosen abnormal, and wishes her not to have any form of humanity. She is human of form, but neither of mind nor heart. If she is at risk of humanity, that must mean she has some connection with someone that, if she was like any human, would be love. However, because she is not like any human, it is not love as we know it, but it is enough to make her more susceptible to love, and obviously they have mentioned love to her, otherwise she would not ask about it."
"So if this person iscapable of being on our side - can they persuade her to ichange/i sides?" Bill, the eldest Weasley son, asked, who was home from Egypt for the Quidditch World Cup that had been a few weeks back.
"I believe this person has influence, but I do not know if they can make her change sides. We do not even know if they are on our side," Dumbledore answered calmly. "If this person is a lover or partner, then they will have more control than a friend or family member. If you do ever meet her, remember that even though she is Voldemort's daughter and, I suspect, very powerful, it seems as though she has been deprived of many luxuries in life. It may help you to know that fact. But, nevertheless, we are dealing with an extremely complicated creature."
With all that said, Dumbledore stood to leave. Once he reached the door, he turned back around. "Harry, I wish I could have waited till you were older but alas, no one can have everything they wish. To stop your visions, try not to think about how you feel when you are taken out of your body and seeing through Voldemort's eyes. But if you do get another vision, please contact me. Your owl, Hedwig, should know where to find me. I will see most of you when school starts. Goodnight."
After Harry nodded to show his understanding and everyone said goodbye to the Headmaster, Dumbledore walked out and closed the door behind him.
An awkward silence filled the room as everyone shifted in their chairs, trying to think of something to say. Mrs. Weasley was the first to break the silence. "I believe we should all try to get some sleep. There is no use worrying about something we can do nothing about. Let's just hope this person can sway You-Know-Who's daughter, shall we?"
"Riddle Jr," Ginny said suddenly, her chin resting on her arms.
"Excuse me?" Percy asked.
"You-Know-Who's original name was Tom Riddle and she looks like his human form so, Riddle Jr," Ginny mumbled to the table.
"Very well, let's hope someone sways iRiddle Jr/i," said Mrs. Weasley, rolling her eyes. "Now, bed."
No one disobeyed, heading up to their bedrooms without even a word. The moment all of them laid down, they were fast asleep, dreaming about the mysterious female threat.
Hope you liked it; the next chapter should be up soon… I hope. R&R if you want… please want to!
…xXxLove SandyxXx…
