A/N:
hey! so i decided to publish this story. i started writing it a year ago and wasn't sure what i wanted to do with it, but now i think i have a basic idea of where its headed. updates will most likley come weekly/bi-weekly depending on my busy-ness. hope you enjoy the first chapter!
- favouriteyellowsweater, xox
It was the Start of Year Feast at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just like they had every year. Except this year, it was very, very different.
"This year we have new teachers. Professor Davids will be taking Arithmancy and both Professors Carrow, who will be taking muggle studies and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Begin eating, in silence," said Headmaster Severus Snape in his usual cold, short manner. The unfamiliar young woman with straight, golden blonde hair sitting in Septima's usual spot gave a malicious smirk while all eyes in the hall turned to her.
All the students, even the first years, knew that if they disobeyed Snape, the punishment would be severe, so they began eating in silence. All except Mister Neville Longbottom.
"Bloody traitor doesn't deserve to be Headmaster," he whispered. His peers around him looked at him in surprise. Since when did Neville Longbottom have this kind of courage, or this kind of a death wish? Of course, Snape heard his mutterings, stood from his seat, and stalked to where Longbottom was sitting.
"And, would you mind repeating yourself, Mister Longbottom?" Snape's voice was soft, but the danger Neville was in was obvious because of the venom that laced his words.
Neville stood from the bench he was sitting at and stared the dark man right in the eye. "I said, bloody traitor doesn't deserve to be Headmaster," Neville said, defiance glinting in his eyes and strength in his words.
Snape drew his wand slowly and deliberately, but Neville stayed staring, ready for the punishment he knew he didn't deserve. Students began to look at Longbottom in fear and whispered to each other. When Snape had his wand fully drawn, he flicked it minutely and Neville clamped a hand to his face as if he had been slapped (which he had, magically) all the while still staring the Headmaster in the eye.
"Seventy points from Gryffindor, Longbottom," he paused and spun to face the rest of the hall. "This shall be an example to you all; should you defy or be disrespectful to I or any of the other staff, trust me, Mister Longbottom got off easy. Your punishment will be much, much worse." With that, Snape stalked back to his seat at the Great Hall Table.
The rest of dinner was uneventful and silent, though all the student's minds were buzzing with Neville's newfound confidence. Slowly, but faster than previous years, students began filtering out of the Hall and into their common rooms. But one person stayed later than all the Hall's occupants, including the teachers. Lynn Davids, the new Arithmancy teacher, sat in her chair, staring at the enchanted ceiling. Waiting until the very last teacher had left the room, Lynn took hold of the cuff of her long-sleeved robes and rolled it up until it reached her elbow. She then took her wand out of its holster on her hip and pressed it to the seemingly innocent tattoo of a thorny, black rose that adorned her forearm, all the way from her wrist to the crook of her elbow. The tattoo glowed for a moment, and then Lynn disappeared as if into thin air.
It had been three years since the return of Tom Marvolo Riddle, most commonly known as Lord Voldemort. He had slowly gained power, and now held control of the Ministry. His previous followers had either obediently returned under the arm of their leader or run and hid like cowards. At least, cowards were what Lynn thought of them. And fools. The Dark Lord was strong and going to win the war. He looked after his faithful and punished his traitorous. So as Lynn stood in front of Lord Voldemort, she knelt and bowed her head in respect and waited until he allowed her to stand.
"Ah, Lynn, you have come to update me? Stand, my faithful friend," he said, his voice cold enough to send shivers down anyone's spine. As instructed, Lynn stood and raised her head ever so slightly.
"Severus is doing a good job as Headmaster. The whole school is terrified of him; I would be surprised if we had any problem at all with the students," Lynn sneered, "Except for the Longbottom boy. He seems like trouble. But do not worry, my Lord, I will have him straightened out by the holidays." She then smirked, a wicked glint in her eye.
Voldemort smiled, a terrifying, malicious thing. "That's my girl," he traced a finger along her jawline in what he probably thought was a fatherly gesture, but were there any observers, they would have told you how chillingly creepy it was. "You are my most trusted friend, Lynn. I shall reward you for your loyalty. What is it that you wish to have?"
Lynn looked at her feet, sheepish. "There is nothing more I want than to be under your command, my Lord."
Narrowing his eyes at her playfully, Voldemort clasped her wrist gently. "I can see in your eyes there is something you want, Lynn, you cannot lie to me. I raised you, child. There is nothing to hide from me. I ask again; what is it you wish to have?"
Lynn bit her lip, wondering whether to ask so much of the generous Lord who rescued her from the twisted and evil 'Light' side as they inaptly call themselves (in her opinion). "It is nothing, my Lord. You already give me so much; it is foolish of me to ask anything of you." Silence followed her words, and she continued to stare at her shoes. If the man in front of Lynn, should you even call him a man, had not taught her himself, she probably wouldn't have noticed the slight tickle in her mind of him subtly using legilimency on her. As such, she did notice it, but let him see into her mind, embarrassed to ask him what she wished for.
A few moments later, the tickling stopped, and Voldemort withdrew from her mind. He looked at Lynn, an expression of slight confusion on his face.
"You wish to drop the formalities between us," he said, as a half question, but Lynn knew not to answer it. Voldemort nodded slowly, considering it. "Yes. I did say you could ask for anything. You may call me Voldemort. I shall call you my daughter."
Lynn almost cried with glee. The man who had raised her after the Light side had killed her parents, who had taught her to defend herself. Seventeen years she had been under the wing of Lord Voldemort, and in those seventeen years, he had become a father to her. If only she knew that to him, she was just a faithful follower.
After meeting with Voldemort, Lynn went back to her quarters. She was supposed to get to Severus, tell him of the Dark Lord's happiness with his success in terrifying the young witches and wizards of Hogwarts. Dipping her hand into the container of Floo powder next to her fireplace, Lynn bunched up her fist, filling it with powder, and then threw it into the soft flames. "Severus Snape's quarters," she said clearly. The orange glow of the room turned green and Lynn took one step forward, into the tall flames. For a moment, all that she could see was green, but then the flames died down and Lynn stepped out of the fireplace of Severus Snape's quarters.
Immediately, Lynn noticed that it wasn't the Headmaster's quarters. There were no windows, and it smelt of herbs. She realised it must be the Potions Masters rooms. Why Severus did not use the Headmaster's quarters was a mystery to Lynn.
"Ms Davids, what in Merlins name are you doing in my quarters?"
Lynn whipped around to find the source of the voice. Severus was sitting in a black leather chair, in the corner of the room. He had his signature brow-raised expression in place and his fingers were wrapped around a cup of steaming tea.
Neglecting to answer his question, Lynn said; "The Dark Lord wishes to tell you he is happy with how you have conducted the start of term feast. He also says to quiet down the Longbottom child, make sure there are no uprisings from the students."
Placing his mug on the coffee table in front of him, Severus stood and walked over to Lynn. "If that was all you had to say, then why couldn't it have been in a letter, Ms Davids?"
"Because I don't trust letters, Severus." The use of his first name was not overlooked. "They could be written by anyone, impersonating someone, and they are not difficult to intercept. By delivering the information myself, there is less chance of others finding out the message, or of it being fake. Nonetheless, whether you choose to believe me or not depends on how much you trust me, and that I am delivering the correct news."
Severus studied Lynn for a second, thinking. Then finally, he nodded slowly. "I do not doubt the truth in your words, however, when delivering information that the Dark Lord wishes me to know, I would prefer it if you would allow me some knowledge of your appearance in advance."
"Of course you would," said Lynn in a drawl not that different from Severus' own. Noticing his scowl, she sighed. "I will stick my head in the fireplace next time before stepping through. May I leave?"
Sighing, Severus nodded. "Yes, go. And I will see that the Carrows take care of Longbottom should he continue to be a problem."
Without reply, Lynn stepped back over to the fireplace, took a handful of Floo powder, called out for her room and left Severus' quarters.
She arrived back at her own quarters. It was a simple place, the walls painted a light grey, two black leather couches around a glass coffee table, both facing the fireplace. Across the room was the kitchenette, which was tiled in the same shade of grey as the walls were painted. A wooden table stained pale sat a few metres from the kitchenette, with similar wooden chairs surrounding it. There was a door at the front of the room that lead to the painting and corridor on which her room was located, and another door in the opposite direction that lead to her bedroom and bathroom.
Once she entered her room, Lynn brushed off the specks of soot on her from the fireplace and walked over to the door of her bedroom. She entered, walked over to her wooden chest of drawers and opened it, pulling out a pair of tracksuit pants and a t-shirt. Grabbing them, she left for her bathroom and realised how appreciative she was to have a bath. Turning on the tap, and filling it up, Lynn placed her clothes in the ledge beside the bathtub and walked over to the mirror. She inspected her face. Lynn was never one to be vain; although she was aware that she did have some good superficial qualities, she knew to never become too obsessed with them. She had a simple beauty. One of someone who was not stunning or flawless, but enough to receive compliments now and then. Her facial features were not awfully sharp, but nor were they round and soft. Her hair reached her mid waist and was honey blonde, though most of the time it was thrown carelessly into a ponytail, so it was out of the way. There were a few freckles dotted over her face and arms, and her eyes were deep brown. Underneath them were emerging bags, and Lynn made a mental note to try and get more sleep. Looking over, she noticed her bath was almost overflowing, and quickly turned the tap off. The smell of vanilla and jasmine filled the room and she took a deep breath in, soaking in the smell. Lynn then stripped herself of her clothes and stepped into the bath.
The warmth of it soothed her aching muscles. She had been so tense approaching the beginning of school term. She wanted nothing more than to please the Dark Lord. Well, now he would just be Voldemort to her. The thought excited her.
She had known him ever since she was thirteen, ever since he had saved her from her blasphemous parents. Her parents were both muggle-borns, and easily got sucked in to the propaganda of the Light side. Voldemort had seen Lynn and thought she needed to be saved from those awful people. So, he rescued her from them and protected her ever since. He taught her as much as he could, but two years later, he was gone, an infant Harry Potter almost murdering him. Lynn spent years trying to find a way to bring him back.
Eleven years later she managed to lure Quirinus Quirrell into the deeper part of the forest so that Voldemort could latch onto him. A year later, when that plan had failed, she gave the idea to Lucius Malfoy to give his diary to the youngest Weasley. And finally, in Harry Potters fourth year of Hogwarts Lynn, along with help from Barty Crouch Jr, brought Voldemort back from the dead. After his resurrection, Lynn became closer and closer to him, and eventually she looked upon him as a father figure. She respected him immensely, but also felt a connection to him as he had spent two years training her in wand combat, physical combat, and mental strength such as Legilimency. And now, he will refer to her as his daughter! There was nothing she wanted more in the world.
Lynn stepped out of the bath after slowly pulling herself from her deep thoughts, relinquishing the relaxed and blissful feeling it had brought her, and pulled on her clothes. She walked over to the bookcase that lined on of the walls in her bedroom and picked up one of her favourites; The History of the Dark Arts. Sitting in bed she flicked open, and began to read, with her wand safely tucked under her pillow close by. In around an hour, Lynn noticed her eyelids start to droop and put the book on her nightstand. She then pulled her covers over her and closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for her first day of teaching tomorrow.