She looked at her reflection in the mirror pleasantly satisfied with the lacking resemblance to her father. Her features were by far softer than his. Instead of his sharp jaw line, hers was rather round and his straight pointed nose was nothing like hers which turned up slightly at the end. However, their was one thing that set her greatly apart from her father, her eyes. Instead of the dark black holes he had, a pair of green irises reflected from the mirror. Eyes she had gotten from the mother she had never known.
Since her birth she had never seen as far as her bedroom window, because she had been moved around frequently, you could say she had seen as far as many bedroom windows. Even when she did move from place to place her father took discretion of utmost importance in her transportation. She would endure all of her journeys from an enchanted trunk with the inside the size of a small hotel room. She lived a lonely existence in her bedroom, with seldom visitors for most of her young life, only a few of her father's followers even aware of her existence. As far as she knew she was hidden from the world and the world was hidden from her.
Despite being a witch herself her father absolutely forbid her to practice magic. She had never been taught nor given a wand for reasons her father would refuse to explain to her. However for being in constant isolation the girl kept a rather cheery disposition, she loved to sing and make music. She spent most of her time making up tunes and writing them into songs, a pass time she kept utterly out of her fathers knowledge knowing he would not think fondly of it. As she got older she began to explore things her father could have cursed her for, but her curiosity began to shake her from her tight constrictions she had once cooperatively accepted. She realized she could move smaller things without touching them, or even using a wand. She could raise objects around her room as if she was defying gravity around her, or beckon things from across the room. The more she practiced the better she got.
A day after her seventeenth birthday, feeling particularly restless on this particular day. She craved to be outside, feeling the warm dry grass under her feet and her skin vulnerable to the hot August sun. Wrapped up in wishes to indulge her whims she magically undid the enchanted locks on her window and opened it wide to let in the warm summer breeze she had desired to feel for so long. While resting her hands on the window sill she looked out far onto the rolling hills and trees which went on for miles, she desperately looked for a sign of any other person or household even though she knew there would be none. As a warm breeze whispered through her window and shook the old maple tree whose branches swayed a few feet from her bedroom. She smiled as a maple key floated in the breeze and tickled her cheek, enjoying to contact of something outside to her own skin she used her magic to guide hundreds of the whimsical seeds through her bedroom window. She twirled through them as they danced around her room in circles like an endless rain fall. Her white airy cotton skirt almost blown up to her waist with the gael from her spinning and maple keys spiralling around her. Dancing to her own tune she felt happy, though confined in her room, she found happiness. Suddenly the door crashed open and she immediately stopped in place, fearing of her father.
As she froze the keys around her lost control of the circular pattern they once held and instead dropped all around her chaotically, whizzing to the floor like hundreds of tiny helicopters. She looked into the eyes of her visiter. It was not her father, but instead an interesting looking man. His eyes were the first thing she noticed. He held her eyes just as she did his, they looked black, yet they didn't hold the coldness like her fathers did. He had black messy hair that fell at his chin that made his pale skin almost grey. She felt a particular warmth about him, he was not like the other men her father had around. She looked for the mark on his arm, but it was covered with the long sleeve of his black robes that touched the floor. Still completely focused on the girl he swiftly swung up his hand, she flinched, but soon relaxed as she realized he just grabbed one of the hundreds of maple keys from the air. He examined it as he gentle moved it through his fingers, then looked back at her with the same curious expression he posed to the maple key.
She broke his gaze as her face became warm, it must have been from him and his warmness she thought. She started to become anxious and began straightening out her dress, dusting some of the loose keys from it. It was then that he spoke to her.
"My lady." he addressed. She was astounded by his voice. It was so deep yet enchanting.
"It is of my utmost pleasure to meet you my lady," he continued. She just stared blankly, that voice! It made her ears tingle. Every word sounded like a piece of music oozing with intellect and romance. She continued to stand in silence gawking at the man. She slowly granted him with a nod, reassuring him that she acknowledged his words to her.
"May I?" he asked, still standing in the door way, she nodded and gestured him inside her bedroom. He quietly clothed the door as she scrambled over to sit at the head of her bed. He stood at the end of her bed.
"I'm Severus," he told her.
"They call me Darling," she replied. He was taken aback by the sound of her voice. It wasn't what he had imagined it to sound like. He had in mind that her voice would sound fragile or tired, but it wasn't like that at all, maybe even the opposite. It was very clear, strong and even melodic. He had seen her before, from afar, when she was quite young, he would never had recognized her. Her body was far more curvaceous then he would have thought. She had the figure of a Greek statue. He couldn't help but notice her ample bosom behind the top of her dress, it made him frustrated at himself that he even took such notice in it. Her skin was milky white, and her midnight hair, it as so harsh against her gorgeous completion, that he recalled to have been from her father. What really caught him about her was those eyes. They made his heart skip. Seeing them again with such life behind them. His enchantment soon grew to guilt. Seeing her, knowing what he done to her, knowing what could happen, what she had already gone through, because of him.
"Your name is Darling?" he asked, as he had never been quite sure what Voldemort had named her.
"I don't think I have a name, that is just what I am called." she informed him.
"I see." he responded.
"Why have you come here Severus?" she asked curiously in a dreamy tone.
"To meet you my lady,"
"Well it seems as though you have managed to do just that. If you would like to stay and chat you can do so on one condition. So would you Severus? Would you like to enjoy my pleasantries?" He smirked at her wit.
"What is your desire my lady?" he asked straight, with a stir in his stomach about what she might want from him.
"Sit," she responded, gesturing to the end of her bed. He nodded and took a seat at the bottom of her bed. She moved closer to him, it made him nervous, he watched her crawl from the top where her pillows were towards him, as his heart began to quicken but soon relaxed and she stopped about a foot away from him. Being so close to her was very surreal to him. He analyzed every feature and every expression and hung on her every word, he had never felt his emotion slip from his control like they did around her. She leaned in closer and whispered, her words tickled his ear.
"Is he out there?" he felt her fear.
"No, he is not here, he won't be for a few days," he reassured her. She leaned back away from him and though for a moment.
"Is that really why you are here Severus, to watch me while he's gone?" she lightly questioned.
"Silly girl, you think I would ever be put down as far as such to be your babysitter?" he jeered back at her, sightly regretting his harsh tone. To his surprise she just giggled. God did she have her mother's laugh. But as she continued he noticed their was something quite different about hers, again it held this dreamy, whimsical quality, as if she had lived her life in the clouds. After all she had been through, he couldn't understand how.
"What do you do Severus?" she asked still slightly giggling.
"I'm a professor," he stated.
"Of what?" she loudly questioned.
"I'm a professor of Potions, at Hogwarts."
"What is Hogwarts?" she asked and his heart dropped. If her father knew he had mentioned Hogwarts to her he would either be dead or at the end of a torturous Cruciatus Curse for sure. However Dumbledore had a plan for her, but unfortunately her father, the Dark Lord, also had a plan for her. There was a prophecy made, the morning before the Potters' were murdered.
"Another is to be born to the mother that defied the Dark Lord thrice. The child will also hold power untold to the Dark Lord. A power this world's generation has not seen. A heart to hold the fate of the new world. A mind the Dark Lord shall fear."
This was the prophecy that stirred Voldemort to no end. He knew he had to destroy the Potters. However, he was attracted to this power this other promised child was to bestow. After being aware of such power, his hunger for it drove him mad. His envy made him desperate, and his lack of control made him restless. He needed Lily dead.