Summery: There was a time when she would have fought against Voldemort, but that time is long gone, stolen by the Dark Lord before she realized there was something to fight. This is her story. Not a self-insertion. DH compliant. Rarepair.

Rating: T

Author's Note: This particular plot bunny haunted me for months. Eventually, I cracked under the pressure and wrote what was going to be the first installment of a chapter fic. Unfortunately, I really do have Fanfic ADD (hereby known as FFADD, or FAD) because I haven't been able to do much more with it as 3 other plot bunnies have popped in my head that would also be chapter fics. To solve the problem, I turned one into a challenge fic on aff, and have been playing with the other plots. This one, however, was all typed up, but could stand as it's own story- something I didn't realize until yesterday (literally). Anyway, I would really like to turn this into a story, and have the next 50 or so years planned out. So if anyone is willing to take on the challenge, I would be glad to show them what I had planned ;

Edit: Unfortunately, my computer crashed (in the physical sense- it literally fell from my bunk bed to the ground), taking everything with it. Fortunately, all of my completed chapters were already posted on ff. Unfortunately, my partially finished ones are gone as well as my character and plot outlines. Years of work down the drain… XD Fortunately, i have learned from my mistakes, and now have a back up drive… unfortunately, this little bit of brilliance came too late to really do much *tear* Anyway, I am now moving this from Potter Shorts, and making it it's own story/one shot. No particular reason other than being a bit sentimental at the moment due to my lost work

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are borrowed from JKR. Even Hashara, who is my original character, is partially borrowed

Warnings: This fic is darker than my previous stories, even Smoke and Mirrors, and contains angst, attempted suicide, nudity, and blackmail.

#######

Original Sin

Hashara Vilnic stared glumly at the statue in the bed, her best friend's face staring blankly at the ceiling. She had been looking for him to tell him of her grandmother's death, and instead learned that he was the second victim of the Monster of Slytherin. Could this day get any worse?

"We found him in the hallway ten minutes ago," her Transfiguration Professor, Albus Dumbledore, told her quietly. "I'm sorry."

Hashara squeezed her eyes tightly to center herself. Trying to prevent the spill of tears and fight the building sob that threatened to surface was proving to be too much for her. "Th-there's a cure, right?" she asked shakily and swallowing the last of her control to get her through the next few minutes.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Professor Slughorn is working on a curing potion as we speak, but I'm afraid it will take several months to perfect."

Unable to control herself any longer, Hashara let out a sob and buried her head in her arms on the bed. Two losses in one day would have been overwhelming for anyone.

Sensing that something more was wrong than a friend in mortal peril, Dumbledore called Hashara's attention back to him and, looking her strait in the eyes, said, "You know you can come to me, or any of the other Hogwarts staff, if you need to talk, don't you?"

Wiping away the tears with her hands, Hashara nodded. Looking down at her friend again, she blinked back more tears and thanked the professor for his kind offer.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid lunch is finishing right about now, so Madam Pomfrey will have to give you a Pepper Up potion so you can head off to class." With nothing more to be said, the professor reluctantly left the infirmary.

Hashara ate lunch alone that day. With her only friend laying petrified in the hospital wing, everyone still at the Ravenclaw table when she got there kept giving her pitying looks until they left for class. So centered on her self-pity was she that she didn't notice a set of eyes watching her from the Slytherin table.

Feeling too depressed to face the prospect of school work, she skived off her afternoon classes to bury herself in recreational reading to get her mind off her troubles.

The next morning, she slept through breakfast and couldn't be bothered to get out of bed until past lunch when Smokey, her Malayan flying fox, came bearing a birthday greeting from her father.

Taking the bit of parchment from Smokey's pouch, she sat on her bed and read:

Hashara,

Happy 15th birthday! I'm sorry I couldn't get you a proper gift; I'm in a bit of trouble right now financially but when I get some pocket money, I will make up for the last few birthday's and Christmases I missed. Until then, could I borrow some money? I know your mother left you a small fortune when she died with orders to not allow me access to it, but could you make an exception this once? I promise it will pay off in the end.

With all my love,

NA

Hashara frowned at her father's letter. It was just like him to have an alternative motive to something as innocent as a birthday card. Soon after Hashara was born, he had left to 'strike it big' and prove to her mother that he had a future. Unfortunately, he was not always worried about keeping his business completely legal and more often than not found himself in trouble with the Ministry. In an attempt to keep themselves out of any trouble that could be traced to them, they had begun using her mother's maiden name. After her mother had died, she moved in with her Godmother who was taking care of her sick mother- Hashara's grandmother- at the time. He would occasionally ask for 'loans' from family members, but was turned down each time.

Flipping the parchment over, Hashara grabbed a quill and wrote it a tidy scrawl:

No.

Your loving daughter,

Hashara Vilnic

Rolling up the letter, Hashara turned to her owl. "Are you tired out from your last run, or would you mind bringing this back to Father?"

Smokey gave a quiet chirp and lifted a wing for the letter. Smiling thankfully, Hashara attached the parchment and said, "Don't bother waiting around for a reply- just come back once you've delivered it, alright?"

Another chirp, and she was alone again, though not as depressed as before. Deciding to show up for her last class of the day, Hashara headed for the showers.

#########

At breakfast a week later, a Ministry owl swept into the Great Hall and landed in front of Hashara. She frowned at the bird of prey and put down her fork before taking the letter. In her experience, a letter from the Ministry was never a good sign. Sure enough, when she opened the letter, it read:

Dear Mrs. Vilnic,

We regret to inform you that your father, Nichola Anglewik, and godmother, Queenelette Vilnic, have been arrested by Ministry officials and charged with fraud. A court date has been set for April 28th of next year. Until then, your assets have been frozen and your family's fine totals to be 34,855 Galleons, 17 sicles, and 5 knuts, which is required to be paid off within 4 years. Failure to do so could result in an Azkaban sentence.

Hoping you are well,

Sincerely,

Hortense Prime

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Ministry of Magic

Hashara sat stunned after reading the letter. What was left of her family had been arrested and she was expected to pay off thousands of galleons for a fine by her first year out of school. What was more, her house and Gringotts account had both been seized by the Ministry. Where was she to live?

No longer feeling hungry for breakfast or up to going to class, Hashara retreated to her dorm. This was something she had been doing a lot lately. Since her father's letter, in fact, her grades had dropped in all her classes and her perfect attendance in all five of her years had been more than destroyed in the last week.

Laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling, she let her thoughts retreat into white fog, thinking of nothing in particular. She knew she should probably go to her classes- she really had nothing better to do, but she couldn't muster the energy to move or care. Her stomach rumbled quietly, but she ignored it in favor of the white fog.

########

By Halloween, there were two more attacks on students. Students and teachers alike were getting scared and all made sure to travel in groups of two or more, never lifting their voices to anything above a murmur in the hallways as though the one to speak too loudly would draw the attention of whatever it was that was attacking the students.

It was for this reason that the Halloween feast became the chance to relax outside of their common rooms and have some fun. As if a silencing spell was being lifted upon entry into the Great Hall, students raised their voices to normal levels the second the passed through the doorway and shouted greeting to the friends who were already there.

When the feast began, the volume in the Great Hall doubled in delight and for the first time in months, Hogwarts' residences were enjoying themselves. An hour later, when it became apparent that there was more talking than chewing, the Headmaster called for everyone's attention.

"Due to recent events," Dippet explained, "the staff has decided to turn this feast into a sort of party. Now, if everyone could stand up…"

There was a rustle of movement as all the students stood. Left over food and dirty dishes disappeared from the house tables and the tables themselves magically flew into the air and leaned themselves against the wall. The staff table turned into a buffet table and a large number of bats appeared, hanging from the enchanted ceiling.

Students enthusiastically began to mingle, completely unaware that one of their number was not in attendance. In fact, Hashara was currently at the top of the astronomy tower, staring blankly at the ground a hundred meters below. Unable to stay in her dorm due to the feast, she had wandered up here to think and had come to a decision.

What with her family taken away and her friend as good as dead, she had no one who cared about her, and thanks to her dad, her life was pretty much over. So if she were to say, disappear, she would only be doing herself and everyone else a favor.

Her view of the grounds suddenly took on a whole new meaning. It would be so easy to step off the edge and fall into oblivion. There would be no more debt, no more forcing herself to pretend to care about classes or keeping herself fed, and no more crying over her lost loved ones.

Allowing herself to pretend for just a moment, she climbed onto the ledge and closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like- the cool breeze against her face and billowing robes, the roaring of wind past her ears, her heart in her throat as she plummeted to her end, and the peace that would settle inside of her just before she hit. How she longed for that peace, that knowing that everything was going to turn out alright; it was a luxury she no longer had and the chance had long passed… unless she took it now.

Biting her lip with sudden determination, she put her hands out in front of her and with her eyes still closed she jumped.

The fall didn't feel like she had imagined. There wasn't any rushing of wind, and the lengthened feeling that she had missed a step was completely absent.

Opening her eyes, Hashara immediately realized she was being magically suspended in mid-air, but before she could determine who had cast the spell, she was swung back over and dumped onto the floor of the astronomy tower.

"Your life is mine," a voice declared in monotone from the door and she whipped around to see the Slytherin prefect Tom Riddle pocketing his wand.

"Wh-"

"You willingly gave up your life, so I am taking it and claiming it as my own," he informed her. "Do you understand?"

Hashara wiped away a tear. She had been looking forward to peace at last, but just as she thought she would be able to find it, it had been stolen away. And yet, Riddle's statement made sense. She no longer cared what happened to her, so why not make herself useful?

"I-I think so," she finally replied.

Riddle nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now, I want you to keep an ear open for rumors about the attacks. You can report them to me over Christmas Holiday as both of us will be staying at Hogwarts for that time."

Hashara nodded, understanding the unsaid command to stay over the Holidays when she heard it. Not that she had anywhere to go anymore anyway.

"And don't draw attention to yourself. That means no more attempting suicide, eating decent meals so as not to worry your classmates, showing up for class so as not to worry your professors, and not breaking any school rules. I don't care what your grades are as long as people don't start asking too many questions.

"I forbid you from wearing any make-up or nail polish, and you cannot consume any potions unless I say it is okay. You got all that?" When Hashara nodded again, he gave a short nod in return and told her, "Find me at Christmas," then disappeared down the stairs.

########

There was a stampede for the carriages on the start of the Holidays. As far as Hashara could tell, she was the only Ravenclaw and there were maybe four from the other three houses staying as well. One of whom she was trying to track down without arousing suspicion.

Her plan of action, though not exactly impressive, was effective nonetheless. Seeing as there was only one Slytherin staying for Christmas, all she had to do was stake out the entrance to the Slytherin common room and she was bound to locate her target.

Trouble was, she wasn't exactly sure where it was. She had been wondering the Slytherin hallways for about three hours, having nothing better to do, when she spotted Professor Slughorn emerging from behind a door disguised as a wall. She would have ducked out of the way, but she knew the man had already seen her. Instead, she called out.

"Good afternoon, Hashara," the potions professor greeted as she approached. "I haven't seen you since the Christmas party. I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she answered politely.

"Excellent! What can I do for you? Care to join me for tea in my office?"

"No, thank you, though, Professor. I was actually down here to ask how the curing potion for the attack victims is coming."

"Ah, yes, I apologize." His tone turned rather grave while he addressed the question. "I have actually had some regression in the progress. It appears that the Mandrake usually used in a potion such as this is not reacting well with the liquorish and I've had to add in some club moss and some orchid roots to counter-act the effects, which is preventing the toadflax from being as potent as it should… It's a nightmare. I've set my seventh years to helping me experiment, but we are quickly running out of mandrakes and in a few more months, they will be too mature to use in potions at all." Seeing the worried look on her face, Slughorn quickly turned his frown into a brave smile. "Do not fret, Hashara. We will find the cure and everything will be fine."

Hashara gave a small smile and nod before thanking the professor and pretending to head back towards the direction of the Ravenclaw common room. Hiding behind the corner, she waited until Slughorn had vacated the corridor before going to inspect the wall he had come through.

There was nothing there to reveal it to be a possible porthole into the Slytherin dorms, like there was for Ravenclaw, but she tried knocking anyway. When no disembodied voice responded, she concluded that anyone attempting to gain entrance would already have to know the blank wall was a doorway to begin with and all that was required was the correct password. If it were, in fact, the entrance to the Slytherin common room, the password would no doubt be extremely Slytherin, Slughorn style seeing as the Heads of Houses no doubt made up the passwords when the school failed to do it for them. That being the case, she decided to try a few.

"Slug Club?"

"Networking?"

"Yourself First."

Did she really think her professor selfish? Yes she did, but since that was not working, she decided to try more phrases.

"If you want something done right, do it yourself."

"Without ME, it would be AWESO"

"Knowledge is power and power corrupts, so study hard and be evil."

"Evil is just 'live' backwards."

"Keep your friends close-"

"And your enemies closer," a voice behind her concluded.

Hashara whirled around to see black robes directly behind her. Backing up to get a good look at who it was, she stumbled when, instead of a wall, she met the empty air of the open entranceway. But before she could fall, a hand lashed out and grabbed a hold of her arm, catching her.

"Thanks, Tom," she laughed nervously as he set her down. The guy was an unknown entity to her, but despite this, she got the sense that it was a bad idea to cross him, and she did not know how he would take to her attempting to break into his common room.

She caught a short half smile in return before he walked past her and into the hole the wall had revealed. She hesitated for a split second, debating whether or not he wanted her to follow, before deciding that even if he did not, she would anyway because she had not just spent all day looking for him only to find him and loose him again, and emerged in a low-ceilinged common room decked out in silver and green.

Tom had taken a regal seat in his chair in front of the fire, and was now waiting for the girl to finish staring at the décor and notice him. So far, she had been a good source of amusement. After the incident at Halloween, she had not known what to make of him when they passed in the halls, and he had several days spent silently chuckling to himself when she promptly lost her footing at the mere sight of him. Fortunately, she had the sense to not acknowledge him any further, and quickly got over the situation so that she didn't react to his presence at all, just in time for a Slug Club meeting they had both attended. And now, she was yet again thrown off balance by how he was acting, as though he were superior to her. But a few moments ago had confused him greatly. When he had rounded the corner on his way to the common room from the Chamber and found her trying to gain entrance into the secrete entrance, he had felt a twinge of something he had never felt for another human before. In fact, he might have even gone so far as to call it pride.

Shaking the thought off, he filed it away for later consideration and focused on the present. The girl seemed to be at a loss as to what to say or how to begin, and he laughed inwardly, reveling in her discomfort. It did not matter to him how long it took her to say anything since he doubted she had gained any information he did not already know; her assignment was more of a reminder for her of who she was indebted to.

"How- how has your year been so far?" she asked at last.

Tom inclined his head. "Alright, under the circumstances."

Hashara nodded in understanding before starting awkwardly, "I, uh, did what you asked. Um- you've probably already heard this one- but, uh, someone in the school must have gotten a hold of Hogwarts, A History because now almost everyone believes the one attacking everyone is Slytherin's monster from the Chamber of Secretes."

Tom nodded to show that he had heard that particular rumor, all the while studying her face. She was unsure of herself more than anything else, lacking the fear he was aiming for, but it was a refreshing break from those who considered themselves his friends.

As she continued her report, Hashara's body language changed and she became much more at ease. "There are a few students who are convinced it is a disgruntled teacher who is behind the attacks and are all hoping it is Professor Binns so the Headmaster will fire him and hopefully hire someone a bit younger and more interesting. I also overheard a couple of girls entertaining the idea that the entire fiasco was some seventh year's practical joke which would be revealed at the end of the year…" Her voice trailed off as Tom stood up suddenly and took hold of her chin so that she was looking upward into his eyes.

The sixth year studied the girl's face carefully. It's beauty was not enhanced by any of the make up girls of the day wore. He had thought for a moment in his chair that she was wearing eye shadow, but on closer inspection realized it was a natural coloring of her eyelids. A quick glance at her hands told him she had not painted or otherwise charmed them to be colorful and the knowledge that she had done as he had asked without question made what he said next nearly come out as a purr of contentment.

"You have done very well. Now I need you to drink this." Out of his robes, he pulled a bottle and handed it to her.

Hashara frowned for a moment at the bottle before taking it from him and downing it quickly. When she looked back at the black haired boy, he was smiling, an odd glint in his eye she did not care for.

For all intents and purposes, the potion had been a placebo disguised as a potion Slughorn did not teach until seventh year and her drinking it even though she had no idea what it was, just because he had told her to, proved that she trusted him with her life, a fact that pleased him greatly.

They were the two most influential students in Hogwarts, even if she failed to realize it. He had stumbled upon it after he had looked up his family history. After realizing he was, indeed, the Heir of Slytherin, he remembered a student a year below him who was renowned for her beauty and could not help but wonder if she was related to Rowena Ravenclaw, who was also described as unnaturally beautiful. It took a bit more digging, but his theory was eventually confirmed; he and one Hashara Vilnic were the only two surviving descendants to the four founders of Hogwarts. Therefore, it was only fair that together they became great, though her level of greatness would merely come from serving him.

The girl looked like she was about to say something, so he asked, "Was that all, or was there something else you wanted to add?"

Hashara hesitated then answered, "Well, something has come to my attention that I don't think anyone else has noticed yet. A few days ago, I spotted Rubeus Hagrid, a Gryffindor third year, sneaking into Dungeon 5 during the lunch hour. I can't say for sure, but he had with him what looked to be an egg of some sort. It can't be the monster that is attacking everyone, if the rumors are accurate, but it was still a bit worrying, seeing as last year there was a rumor going around that he was housing werewolf cubs under his bed…"

This time, Tom could not deny it- the swelling he felt was indeed pride. His little Ravenclaw had actually unearthed information he had not known beforehand. Thanks to her, he now had someone to frame should the attacks suddenly need to stop. It would most likely only work for this year, seeing as whatever the oaf was raising would be independent by the beginning of the next year, but Tom would keep an eye on him now. No doubt he would bring in something else to blame.

########

When Tom awoke one morning in April, the first thing he was aware of was the warmth of skin-on-skin contact and a weight on his chest. Looking down, he saw through the gloom of his four-poster bed's curtains the blue-black head of hair belonging to Hashara. From a mere centimeter away, he could smell that she had switched from hair-care potions to muggle shampoo like he had told her to. He was pulled out of his musings when the girl on top of him rolled off in her sleep, legs still entangled with his.

After Valentines Day, he had taken to keeping her closer to him in order to issue her commands when the need arose. After his followers found them together on more than one occasion, he decided to make it seem as though they were sexually involved simply to cut off any questions before they were voiced and hide the true reason why he kept her close.

In truth, she could not be trusted to be without him for too long. If she was, she began to question their relationship. The first time this happened, he had given her frequent assignments without keeping her by his side. After two months, she began to rethink their agreement.

"All you did was prevent me from jumping off the Astronomy Tower. I do not think that constitutes my obeying your every whim," she declared boldly, making Tom's eyes flash dangerously. Aside from his most trusted Eternal Reapers- he had since changed the name to Death Eaters- Hashara was the only one he was himself around, as much as he allowed others to see of him, anyway. Therefore, she was fully aware of what angered him the most, and knew that openly disagreeing with him was high on the list. In fact, he strongly suspected her of managing him through his emotions and he hated being that predictable.

"You owe me a life debt- you have no choice but to obey me," he snarled. Thankfully, they were alone otherwise her statement would have been even more of a challenge to his authority.

"This is not how a life debt is paid off," she argued. "If nothing else, I just have to make sure you are safe. Or, I save your life when you are in danger and we call it square."

He sneered at her. "I am not in need of a body guard, nor will I ever require assistance in staying alive. Therefore, the life debt shall be fulfilled at my preference. Now, collect my Potions essay from my dorm room and bring it to me." Tom's eyes narrowed, daring her to refuse.

There was a long, pregnant pause during which time Hashara did not seem in the least bit intimidated and Tom gnashed his teeth in outrage. Had they not been in an enchanted school where the walls had ears, he would have cursed her to within an inch of her life. As it were, he would rely on psychological games to make her more compliant to his demands.

It had not taken long, he reflected, to make her regress to the emotional state she had been in at Christmas- fairly confident, yet dependant on him- but he refused to take any more chances and made sure to meet with her several times a week so as to prevent a relapse. Fortunately, he would not have to worry about it after today; the potion he had been preparing all year was finally ready and he could now put his plan into action. All he needed to do now was decide when would be the best time to take her down to the Chamber of Secretes.

As it was the weekend, most of the student body would be in Hogsmead all day. He and those of his future Death Eaters who were old enough would visit the village for a few hours to provide an alibi. Meanwhile, there would be another attack on a student, and Hashara Vilnic would disappear off the face of the map.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Tom disentangled himself from the Ravenclaw and started to get ready. Once in the common room, he was joined by several upper year Slytherins he barely acknowledged as he passed and lead the flock to breakfast to begin the day.

It was well past noon when Hashara awoke. As always, she was alone in the magically enlarged bed and the spot where Tom had slept had long since grown cold. Giving herself a few minutes to wake up fully, she dressed in the same clothes she had worn yesterday and slunk off to her dorm room to change.

Hashara was rarely able to plan for sleeping over in Tom's dorm. He normally made the decision at the last possible moment, usually after he had made her stay in the Slytherin common room well past curfew. If she brought a change of clothes in case she wound up sleeping over, he turned cruel. On more than one occasion, he had banished the next days outfit as well as the clothes she wore at the time, leaving only a Hogwarts robe to get her to her dorm the next morning.

The request itself was platonic, which made her suspect he was simply using it to further establish his control over her. She thought this immature, but was not about to say it to his face; she did owe him a life debt, after all, and would rather stand up to him when it mattered. Over the last few months, it had become obvious to her that the Slytherin had no thought in his mind about the well being of others and knew that he would easily ask something of someone that would put their life at risk without batting an eye. For Hashara, she was saving her time of resistance for when he asked such a thing of her.

Opening the door to her room, she saw a ministry bird waiting for her, perched at the foot of the bed. The sight of the bird made her feel as though an anvil was trying to do a flip-flop inside her stomach. Opening the letter, she read:

Dear Miss Vilnic,

This is just a reminder for the court date that has been set for April 28th, at 3 o'clock PM. Ministry wizards will arrive at Hogwarts to pick you up at one.

Hoping you are well,

Sincerely,

Hortense Prime

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Ministry of Magic

Hashara stared numbly at the ink date. In a little over a week, her entire future would be decided. If her father and guardian were found guilty, would she be charged as well, or would she become a ward of the Ministry? Keeping in mind, of course, the thousands of galleons she owed, regardless. Refusing to think about it any more, she finished getting changed, stuffed the letter under her pillow, and returned to the Slytherin common room where Tom had told her to meet him.

She had been waiting for Tom for only fifteen minutes when he walked through the hidden doorway and ordering her, "Come with me."

Getting up from her place in front of the fire, Hashara followed him out of the common room and through the hallways until they came to a girl's bathroom on the second floor. She frowned at his back as she followed him in and stopped when he did in front of the sinks.

Thoroughly confused, and beginning to get a bad feeling about the situation, she watched with growing apprehension as he voiced a password in a language that made her hair stand on end, and the sink move away to reveal a man-sized hole in the piping behind it.

"You're a parselmouth," she whispered, backing away towards the exit as survival instinct screamed at her to run.

"Yes," Tom hissed, nodding once and gazing at her with a predatory look.

"The Chamber of Secretes… You've been the one attacking everyone…" she breathed as she made the connections that made her mind reel wildly.

"It seems that way," he agreed, pulling out his wand and pointing it at her. "You will enter first and you will keep your eyes closed. I would hate for you to meet my basilisk before I was able to introduce you two."

"B-basilisk?" she gasped, the question coming out as more of a sob as the hopelessness of the situation hit her. The only chance she had of getting out of this was to attack as he followed behind her, but what with the Basilisk lurking somewhere in the Chamber, there was little chance of her making it out again without a parselmouth to control the animal.

"Yes, now hand over your wand and move towards the entrance."

Exhaling, Hashara slowly reached into her robes and drew out her wand with two fingers. Once it had cleared the pocket, however, she flipped it into her hand and shot a disarming charm at the Slytherin.

Tom waved his wand and the charm bounced harmlessly off the shield he had created before sending a silent leg locker curse in her direction. She dodged out of the way and dove for the door, but it hit her arm and made her fall on her face as her legs flew together. Casting a hasty, "Finite incantatum," she released herself from the curse and rolled out of the way of yet another heading right for her.

"Protego!" she shouted, sending a charm at Tom, which he easily reflected back at her. She summoned a shield to absorb the attack and retaliated with a stinging hex.

Stepping easily out of the way, Tom shot two charms in a row at her and Hashara just managed to dodge the first before she got hit by the second. Her eyes widened as she tried to strike back and realized the charm she had been hit with was silencio. Hastily changing tactics, she attempted to send a silent curse at him like she had read about in books, but having never tried it before, nothing happened.

He's playing with me, she realized as Tom hit her with a stunner and her world faded into blackness.

#######

Hashara woke, naked, bound by invisible cords, and gagged with the silencio charm in what she could only assume to be the bowls of the Chamber of Secretes. Two meters to her right stood a caldron big enough to sit in and Tom who was adding last minute ingredients to the potion.

Seeing he was distracted, she decided to take her chances with the basilisk and try to worm away while she had the chance. She managed to get about a meter away from where she had woken up when she was hoisted into the air and swung over the caldron.

Taking out a second wand, he canceled the charms on her and lowered her into the churning liquid. As she slipped under the surface of the potion, she felt her head fill with cotton and her thoughts slow. A roaring grew in her ears, the liquid pressed in around her, yet she did not feel the need to breathe, and despite the boiling surface, the potion was cool against her skin, making her shiver and curl into a ball at the bottom of the caldron.

Minutes passed and she felt things being dropped into the potion after her. The chill of the liquid sunk deep into her skin, numbing her from the inside out. Time seemed to slow and in what felt like an hour to her, but was really three minutes, she was gently lifted out of the potion and magically suspended above the caldron to drip dry.

As sensation returned to her, she could feel that something was different, but could not pinpoint what it was. Looking down, she saw a sleek, scaled, limbless body and tail about 40 centimeters in length*.

Tom smiled. "How are you feeling, Nagini?"

#######

Author's Note: I know this first chapter was a little angsty, especially in the beginning, but I needed a reason why a girl would go from perfectly fine to suicidal in less than a month. Also, I have never suffered from depression, nor have I ever considered suicide- for those of you who have, did the picture I paint sound reasonable if not realistic? Anyway, for anyone interested in continuing this, co-writing with me, or using the idea of it, send me an e-mail and we can talk ^^

*For those of you weirdoes who do not use the metric system (I am including myself in that), Hashara/Nagini is 1.3 feet long. The only reason I know this is because of the miracle of widgets on the MacBook