Chapter One

Harry

Harry Potter paced across his small room in the Dursley's house trying to think of a way to process the information. He took five steps forward, pivoted, and took five steps back. The process was simple and helped to relieve him of the stress. The letter from Mr. Weasley sat on his bed; the sloppy handwriting innocently smiling up at him.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore greeted Harry with a small smile. The professor casually looked up from the letter he was reading. "I've been waiting for you. I understand that you had detention down in the dungeons with Snape. You had to clean up the remains of the Five-Horned Dung Beetles, eh?" The older man chuckled. "Nasty creatures, aren't they?"

"Yes, professor," Harry mumbled.

"Well don't just stand there m'boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed gesturing towards the seats. "Don't be shy!"

"Yes, professor," Harry immediately sat on one of the seats facing Dumbledore's desk. Nervously, the teenage boy began to play with the hem of his shirt.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice took on a serious tone, "I have news on Voldemort."

"Have you located the horcrux?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No, m'boy, this is a different type of news." Dumbledore shakily wiped his face with a handkerchief. "At first, I never mentioned this to you because I thought it was not important. Now I know that my mistake my cost us dearly."

"Professor?"

"Harry, do you remember when I told you that Voldemort was unable to love, and that has been his greatest weakness?"

For a moment, the Chosen One paused unsure of what the old man was trying to say, but he nodded his head anyways.

"Tom Riddle wasn't always cold and bitter. There was a brief moment somewhere within his sixth year at Hogwarts where something in him changed."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

Silently, Dumbledore stood. The action caused Harry to rise from his seat as well, and the two men looked at each other. Wordlessly Dumbledore led harry through his office until they arrived at the massive pensieve. The intricate designs and carvings still stunned Harry with their complex beauty, but his attention soon moved from the pensieve and instead focused on Dumbledore who held a small jar filled with a clear silvery liquid.

"Harry, m'boy, I am going to have to ask you – no, I am going to have to make you swear – that you will not tell a soul about this. Miss Granger and Mister Weasley are not even allowed to hear this." Dumbledore grasped Harry by his shoulders not allowing the younger boy to move. "I need you to swear it to me, Harry."

"I swear, professor." Harry replied.

His palms began to sweat as he dreamt up the countless terrors that Tom Riddle could have committed to make Dumbledore so nervous. He licked his lips unable to comprehend what brutal crimes he was going to witness. What could a young Voldemort do to cause Dumbledore swear Harry into secrecy? Did he murder a village filled with muggle children? Did he kill off an innocent family? Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers to any of these questions, but before he could voice his concerns to his professor, his head was in the pensieve.

Harry wasn't in Dumbledore's office anymore. No, he was standing in Muggle London watching as a young Tom Riddle marched into a small pub standing at the corner of the busy street. He eagerly followed the young wizard into the building.

Tom entered the pub casually sliding out of his large coat. The young Dark Lord glanced around the room before he took a seat at the booth in the back. His short black hair stuck out in every direction and Harry was under the impression that the boy had not slept in days. Seemingly bored with his surroundings, Tom began to twirl his wand around in his hand not paying attention the muggle men passing in and out of the store.

"You shouldn't be having your wand out while in a public place." The scolding voice surprised not only Tom but also Harry. Neither boy had seen the mysterious man approach them. "The muggles don't know how to react to things like that." He gestured towards the offending object.

"I don't believe it's any of your business if I have my wand out in the middle of this pub. Most of the muggles in here are too drunk to care." Tom spoke calmly not even once making eye contact with the man. "You don't sound like you're from here."

"I'm not." The man replied sliding into the seat across from Tom. "I'm Egyptian although I'm currently living in New York."

"I wasn't aware wizards bothered to live in America." Tom drawled gazing at the strange man in front of him.

"Most young wizards and witches travel there. The lack of restricting laws makes it more appealing."

"I prefer Europe."

"A man like you would." The man shrugged. "My name is Kensington Abesworth."

"Tom," the young Dark Lord replied. For a moment, he seemed distracted by a bar fight beginning to form, but his eyes lazily found their way back to Kensington. "Interesting how eager the muggles are for a fight, no?"

"I find it amusing." Kensington admitted not bothering to look back at the fight. "But not as interesting as other muggle habits. What school do you go to?"

"I attend Hogwarts."

"Fascinating school," Kensington muttered. "I happen to have a Hogwarts keepsake; it was given to me by Dumbledore himself, you know?"

At the mention of a keepsake, Tom perked up. He leaned forward with anticipation drinking in every word that Kensington said.

"I happen to own Helga Hufflepuff's cup. It's been in the family for generations, but I'm thinking on selling it to a young woman whose name escapes me at the moment. She claims to be an heir of Helga and is willing to pay 5,000 gaellons for it."

"I'll pay you 10,000 gaellons for the cup." Tom immediately said. "I can meet you whenever at whatever time you desire with the money."

Kensington raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure that you're willing to pay that much money? What would your parents say?"

"They're dead I don't suppose they have too much to say on anything I do anymore."

For a moment, Kensington seemed at lost for words. The man's eyes were widened with shock, and he nervously cleared his throat.

"My condolences for your loss," the older man muttered.

"Don't bother." Tom rolled his eyes. "Are we going to meet later or what?"

"Yes but sadly I don't have the cup with me at the moment. If you truly intend on purchasing it, you can meet me next weekend in Wizarding New York in America at my estate. I'll have the cup waiting for you there."

"Can't you have someone owl the cup here?" Tom asked unwilling to the leave country just for some cup.

"International owls cost a lot of money especially if they're mailing a package." Kensington shrugged. "If you're willing to come to New York next weekend, I'll have the cup ready. If you're not, then there's already a woman interested in purchasing it."

"No," Tom waved his hand as if he was swatting at a fly. "I will be there."

The scene shifted. It melted away slowly leaving Harry standing in darkness. For a moment, the Chosen One panicked thinking that something had gone horribly wrong and he was now trapped in the pensieve, but before he could move to examine his new surroundings, the darkness turned into a blinding white light. He blinked quickly begging his eyes to adjust as he heard voices approach him.

"Sorry my father couldn't make it. Dragonpox is traveling around and he has a rather nasty case of it." A soft feminine voice floated to Harry's ears. "However, if everything goes well, the cup will be in your possession by midnight."

"Thank you." Tom Riddle's voice sounded clearer and sharper than the girl's. "I must be back at Hogwarts by tomorrow evening."

"I understand."

The voices died down, and Harry looked around the room noticing that he was standing inside a safe of some sorts. The walls were made of tough looking metal, and the door resembled the entrance to one of the vaults at Gringotts. Despite the tough walls which were placed there to protect something, there was nothing in the safe except a golden cup resting in a glass case at the back of the room.

The safe door slid open revealing a woman who couldn't have been much older than 16. Immediately, Harry was captivated with her stunning beauty. Her creamy chocolate skin seemed to glow in the dim lighting, and her light brown eyes shone with intelligence. Her black hair curled beautifully around her face before falling gently over her shoulders. She walked with grace and poise, and from the way Tom Riddle was watching her, it was clear she had captivated the young man.

"This is the cup?" Tom asked hesitantly approaching the glass case. "10,000 galleons for it, correct?"

"Yes," She smiled at him as she walked towards the case. "You have the money."

Wordlessly, Tom handed her a large pouch weighed down by the large amount of wizard money resting in it. The girl opened the pouch giving its contents a quick glance before she opened the case. Not hesitating to claim his prize, Tom greedily snatched the golden cup before slipping it into his bag. The Riddle boy smiled warmly at the girl who blushed in return.

"I hope you have a wonderful year at Hogwarts." She said leading Tom away from the empty glass case.

The Dark Lord smiled at her before gently pressing his lips to her cheek. His face turned incredibly warm with happiness as he pulled away. "Perhaps, I'll see you next weekend."

Harry's head shot out of the pensieve with such force that the young boy stumbled into a stack of books behind him. He grunted in pain as he fell in an ungraceful heap on the ground surrounded by various textbooks. Dumbledore warily eyed Harry as he struggled to stand. The boy's legs still felt wobbly and unstable from his time in the memory.

"What was that?" Harry asked gesturing towards the pensieve. "What exactly was the purpose of the memory we saw?"

"That, m'boy, was the Dark Lord's wife."

"W-wife?" Harry stuttered. Dumbledore had said that Voldemort was incapable of feeling anything besides hatred and greed. If that were true (which it had to be because men such as Dumbledore do not lie), then how was he able to have a wife. "I thought – you said – he was married? Who would even think about marrying him?"

"When he met Kensington's daughter, Aphrodite, he was instantly enchanted by her beauty. He spent every free weekend he had visiting her in Muggle New York. After his seventh year at Hogwarts, the two got married, and she became obsessed with the idea of immortality just like her husband was. The two spent hours discussing possible horcruxes and where to hide them."

"Is his wife still alive?"

"No," Dumbledore paused to smooth out his robes. "They were on their way to create a horcrux for Aphrodite when they were approached by several Aurors. Aphrodite lost her life that night."

"What did Voldemort do after his wife died?" Harry was almost scared to hear the answer to his question.

"He murdered many Aurors as well as your parents that night, and he completed the process of splitting his soul." Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "Voldemort was in love with Aphrodite; seeing her die was his breaking point. It was when he went from being a rebellious schoolboy and transformed himself into the Dark Lord. Everything he's done so far was a desperate act of revenge. He's gone insane from the grief he suffered."

"What about Athena?" Harry asked. "What happened to her?"

"She was sent to America to attend a school there. She hasn't been a big point in the war, but the playing field has leveled. Voldemort has reached new levels of desperation; desperate men do desperate things."

"I don't understand, professor."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, m'boy, Voldemort is using his daughter to gain insight on things that are happening within the school."

"But she's in America!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "For now she is."

Harry screamed in a fit of rage and buried his face in his hands. Things were going good – hell, they were going bloody great – but now Voldemort's daughter was in London. Dread settled in Harry's stomach as he pictured a young girl in his mind aiming a killing curse at Hermione and Ron. He could easily picture Hermione's face twisted in pain while Ron struggled to get to her. Behind his image of Athena Riddle, stood her father holding Harry by the neck and forcing him to watch the death of his friends.

Feeling sick, Harry rolled over throwing up the remains of his lunch into the trash bin. Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he struggled to regain his breath. He slowly moved away from the bin ignoring the shaking of his hands. He couldn't tell Ron or Hermione, but perhaps he could confide in Kingsley Shacklebot, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. Nodding his head, Harry rose to feet and stumbled towards his desk.

While grabbing a sheet of parchment, his fingers accidently grazed the crumpled piece of paper that Mr. Weasley wrote his letter on. Harry's traitorous eyes once again read the letter lingering over each word that he already had memorized.

Harry,

I know that Dumbledore has spoken to you about the daughter of You-Know-Who. The Order never spoke about it because we thought that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would go through great lengths to protect the only person he has left. However, men don't think straight when they're desperate.

She is coming to London; she will be attending Hogwarts in the fall.

Keep an eye on her.

Arthur Weasley.

Kaylah

A girl with caramel colored skin and dark brown hair sat down at her desk in her school dorm room scribbling out a letter to her parents. Once the letter was complete, she gently placed the folded piece of parchment into a light pink envelope and handed it to her owl that wasted no time in accepting the letter.

"Send it to mother and father." The second the word mother fell from the girl's lips the owl flew out of her window grateful to finally be out in the open.

The girl leaned back in her chair allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a moment. Perhaps, a nap could provide her with some comfort. She could feel herself drifting in and out of consciousness, and as soon as she was ready to succumb to the welcoming embrace of sleep, the door flew open.

"Good afternoon, Kaylah." The girl groaned when she heard the familiar voice of her best friend. Was it too much to ask for a simple nap? Clearly, the gods weren't going to allow her that form of relief.

"Good afternoon, Athena."

Kaylah mumbled lazily opening her eyes to gaze at her friend accepting the fact that there was no possible way for her to sleep peacefully. For a moment, she gazed at her friend drinking in her beauty. She was jealous of Athena's looks. She had perfect curly black hair that made her creamy chocolate skin look twice as beautiful with dark brown eyes and perfectly plump lips. Every feature on Athena screamed with an otherworldly beauty, and Kaylah briefly wondered if her friend was part Veela.

"I hope you weren't about to fall asleep." Athena said moving towards her bunk. "This is my last day in New York. It may be my last day in America!"

"Don't be silly, Athena." Kaylah rolled her eyes. "You're just going to London to visit your dad. Personally, I think it's a good experience for you. You've only seen your dad on vacations where he would be gone half time on business."

"Yes, but I'm going to miss this school." Athena dramatically fell on her bed. "I'm going to miss St. Augustine's School for the Magically Gifted." She looked around the dorm room before sighing. "I'm even going to miss this stuffy room."

"You'll be back in fall." Kaylah dismissed her friend's dramatic behavior. "It's only three months."

"But I won't be back in fall."

The silence following Athena's statement was deafeningly loud. Both girls could feel the tension it brought, and Kaylah spun around to face her best friend. Athena was just being dramatic. That was the only logical explanation for her behavior. The two of them had been attending St. Augustine's School for the Magically Gifted since they had both turned 11. They had eagerly turned towards each other on the first day of school to voice their complaints about the dress code, and that was when Kaylah realized Athena may be the only person at this school with an ounce of common sense. They had been friends since that first day of school and every memory they had about this school involved the both of them. Ever since day one, they were a team. But now Athena was leaving. She had left the country many times to stay with her father, but she always came back for the start of the new school year. Now, when September came, it would only be Kaylah standing at the gates of the castle. Athena wouldn't be by her side. Instead, she would be at some school in Europe.

"Oh, gods!" Kaylah rushed over to her friend wrapping her arms around the girl. Tears were rushing down her face, and she mentally chastised herself for crying. "Athena, you can't leave me! Nobody at this school can understand me."

"I'll write you every day and send you pictures of everything. I'll make sure they're muggle photos, too! I know you don't like magical photos." Athena hugged Kaylah back fiercely. "I'll send you candies and treats. I'll tell you about how weird all the European kids are and I'll tell you all about the Muggle London. I'll even tell your dad if any of his movies are playing in muggle theatres."

Kaylah felt a fresh batch of tears start to form as she heard her friend's promise.

"You don't have to go out of your way to do muggle stuff for me. I know I'm Muggleborn and all, but you can still send me magical gifts."

Gently, detaching herself from her friend's embrace, Kaylah allowed her eyes to ghost over her face. Who knows when she would see Athena again! Kaylah wasn't rich like Athena, so she couldn't fly out to London to visit her friend nor could she afford to send packages with the hefty fees that international owls could bring. All she would have is the memory of Athena along with whatever things her friend would send her.

"Athena," Kaylah whispered savoring the name. "I'll miss you so much, but I'll visit you! I promise! I'll go to your house for Christmas."

"You can visit me for Christmas Eve and eat dinner with us. Then we'll go to your house for Christmas." Athena said her voice shaking with something that must be close to love and sadness. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"Me too," Kaylah hugged Athena again. "I bet you're even going to get the highest grades in that London school. All the witches and wizards will wish they were as smart as you."

Draco

Draco Malfoy was bored.

The Death Eater feast was lively with eager chatter and discussions of future raids, but Draco paid no attention to any of it. Instead, he sat at the table for the teenagers and watched half-heartedly as Blaise Zabini argued with Pansy Parkinson about who was more likely to win the Quidditch match. Blaise seemed intent to have Pansy realize that the Chudley Cannons were going to win while Pansy argued that the Holyhead Harpies have won every game this season. Draco simply wished the group who shut up.

His glass of water was nearly empty, and with a sigh, he drained the rest of the glass only to have it fill back up with the clear liquid. He eyed the glass distastefully before glancing up to see why his companions had grown so quiet only to notice all their eyes glued on him.

"What do you want?" Draco drawled uneager to hear how he got dragged into the discussion.

"Chudley Cannons or Holyhead Harpies?" Blaise asked turning in his seat to face his best friend. "Which one is going to win?"

Draco snorted loudly before turning to face the Italian boy. "Neither," he stated. "They are all going to die in a mysterious accident tonight in order to stop this pointless bickering. Besides, we all know that the Holyhead Harpies are going to win."

Blaise choked on his mashed potatoes struggling to absorb the new piece of information Draco had given him. The blond boy could clearly see his friend's distress, and he laughed at the Italian which earned him an approving smile from Pansy.

"Why would you say that?" Blaise muttered once the offending food safely made its way down his throat. "You know that the Chudley Cannons are–"

"Going to lose since their seeker has a broken arm, and that pathetic excuse of a replacement seeker can't catch the snitch to save his pathetic life." Draco interrupted his friend. "We both know that new seeker can't do anything right."

"I think he can probably catch the snitch tonight." Crabbe explained nibbling on his chicken leg.

"Crabbe, you don't know the first thing about Quidditch." Goyle exclaimed slapping his partner on the head. "You wouldn't be able to tell a quaffle from a snitch."

"I can too!" Crabbe protested nursing his bruised forehead.

"No, Crabbe," Pansy drawled. "You don't know anything about Quidditch."

Draco smiled at his friends' playful banter suddenly warming up to the idea of being at this Death Eater feast. He watched his friends argue some more before a movement at the front of the room brought everyone to a silence. Warily, he looked at the front of the great hall expecting to see Harry Potter himself standing there, but instead what he saw almost made him choke on his peas.

Standing at the front of the room, was the Dark Lord himself with his hand resting on the shoulder of a young girl who couldn't have been any older than Draco. The blond boy stared at the girl with a look of shock and lust. Voldemort seemed to be parading her around presenting her to every Death Eater in the room. Honestly, the girl was dressed a little too muggle for his taste, but he had to admit the clothes flattered her figure

"Who is she?" Draco whispered to Blaise who gave him a half-hearted shrug.

"I don't know, but she's gorgeous!" Blaise responded earning him a playful smack from Pansy.

"You don't fancy her, do you?" Draco asked widening his eyes. "She's dressed like a muggle!"

"A beautiful muggle," Blaise muttered. "Quick, she's coming."

Sure enough, the Dark Lord approached the table proudly showing them the girl who was on his arm. Briefly, Draco wondered if she was the Dark Lord's lover. He shuddered at the thought of a man old enough to be his grandfather shagging someone as young as him.

"Children, I would like you to meet my daughter, Athena." Voldemort's snake-like voice sounded casual enough, but once Draco grasped the words he said, his gray eyes widened in surprise.

"Your d-daughter?" Blaise asked face palming. It would be just like Blaise to fall for the daughter of the Dark Lord. Draco almost laughed at his friend's dilemma.

"She's going to be attending Hogwarts as a sixth year." Voldemort suddenly turned his attention on Draco. "Draco, I spoke to Lucius and Narcissa, and they both agreed that it would be best for you to escort my daughter around school."

"A-Are you s-sure?" Draco stammered unable to comprehend the words coming out of his master's mouth. He was being ordered to babysit the daughter of the most feared man in wizarding history? What if he failed? What if he lost her? What would the Dark Lord do to him?

Before Draco could argue and beg for Blaise to escort her, the Dark Lord had disappeared leaving the girl to stand awkwardly in front of Draco. Blaise was right, she was beautiful. Everything on her screamed effortless beauty and he wondered why they named her Athena instead of Aphrodite.

"Pleasure to meet you," Blaise grasped her hand tightly in his. "I'm Blaise Zabini. The lovely faces you see here are Pansy, Vincent, Gregory, Draco, and Daphne."

"It's nice to meet you." Athena nodded politely at the group.

"Come, sit with us." Blaise pulled out her chair offering her the seat between himself and Draco. "I promise that we aren't as boring or stuffy as our parents."

Eager to get on Athena's good side, Pansy leaned across the table to admire her dress. "What wizard designer did you get to make the dress? It's quite beautiful."

"My friend's mother got it for me at a muggle shop in Muggle New York. She works with muggles." Athena replied unwilling to admit to these Death Eater children that her friend was a Muggleborn. "I think it's from Macy's."

"Your father allows you to wear muggle clothes?" Pansy asked her voice laced with disbelief and shock. "But muggles are beneath us!"

Athena swallowed and clenched her jaw, but nobody noticed her tense position except for Draco. He eyed her body language with distaste. Of course, he was sent to watch a muggle loving witch. Damn the gods for this decision.

"My father allows me to do whatever I please as long as I train and study." She forced a smile. "He even lets me visit Muggle London sometimes."

"You know the London Eye was built by Sir James LeFranches, but he allowed his muggle business partners to take the credit for its creation. He was a Squib." Blaise said giving Athena a charming smile that almost made the Malfoy heir throw up his food. Could the kid be any more obvious in his crush? "I find it fascinating that a Squib could make such a marvelous thing."

"Do Squibs study at Hogwarts?" Athena asked giving Blaise her full attention.

"Squibs aren't allowed to attend Hogwarts." Daphne spoke quietly. All eyes moved to her as if they were shocked that she was able to speak. "It's not allowed. They can't perform magic anyways; it would be a waste of time and effort."

"Squibs study at St. Augustine's." Athena protested. "They study Magical History, Potions, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies, and other things that can help them with life. The Squibs in America work as Healers and other various jobs that don't require magic. What do the Squibs do here?"

"They just sit around in their homes or they get disowned and placed into Muggle London to live as beggars." Draco said sipping from his water. "Squibs aren't accepted in European society."

"No offense but that's barbaric." She said dismissing his claim.

"It's what happens." Blaise added. "I think they should be allowed a place in society. Think about how advanced we would be."

"It doesn't matter because Squibs are even filthier than Mudbloods." Draco responded. "They're a waste of magic."

"You're wrong." Athena said.

"I'm right, and we both know it."

"Athena, what's it like in Muggle New York?" Pansy asked suddenly. Her pug-like face was twisted up in a worried expression.

"Draco, you are wrong."

"I'm absolutely right!" Draco suddenly smirked enjoying the way Athena's face flared up with anger. "Not like you would know. Clearly, you enjoy the company of muggles. Look at the excuse of a dress you're wearing."

Draco's comment sent their table into a stunned silence, and Athena rose up from her seat at the table pointing her wand in Draco's face. Silently, he rose from his seat now aware of the tension that had settled amongst the Death Eaters.

"If I'm so wrong, then you wouldn't mind a little duel." Athena's voice came out in a mocking tone, and Draco's anger rose.

How dare she speak to him like that? How dare she speak to him as if he was a foolish child! He was Draco Malfoy the only heir to the Malfoy family, and he would not be spoken to as if he was a fool.

Draco took several steps back standing in the clear space that had been made for them. To his right, he could see his father's enraged face. If he lost this duel, his father would punish him. He would have to win, and he would have to place this woman in her place.

"Stupefy," Draco yelled sending a bright red light from his wand.

"Ennervate," Athena flicked her wrist and the spell sizzled out.

"Stupefy!"

"Ennervate!"

"Stupefy!"

"Ennervate!"

Draco frowned doing a complicated motion with his wand. "Locomotor Mortis!"

Athena barely managed to twist out of the way and the spell grazed her left leg making it fall numb. She stumbled a little before deflecting more spells that flew towards her. Unwilling to be made a fool of, she retaliated throwing complicated spells that Draco had never seen before. The two of them dueled throwing curses and hexes while dodging any wild spells that were aimed towards them. Athena raised her arm to deflect another spell but was too slow, and she was blasted back a few feet.

"Immobulus!"

Draco's spell was sent hurtling towards her, and she barely had time to roll out of the way. Sweat rolled down her body drenching her dress, but she kept fighting back. Her arm was growing sore from the long fighting, and with a roar she threw a powerful hex towards Draco only to miss him. Draco smiled knowing he had the upper hand, and with a casual flick of the wrist he disarmed her. For a child of the Dark Lord she was unbelievably easy to defeat. She swallowed nervously as Draco looked towards her father. The two stared at each other for a moment before Voldemort gave Draco a head nod. He wanted Draco to continue? She had no wand!

"Crucio!"

Time seemed to slow down moving at an impossibly slow pace. The curse moved towards bringing promises of pain and suffering with it. Athena could feel the curse growing closer, and shakily she raised her hand allowing a blast of fire to shoot out from her palm and absorb the curse. The action was over as quickly as it started and it left the smell of burning flesh in the air.

Her palm was burned.

The second she glanced down at her hand another curse came flying towards her, and she used the flames to extinguish the magic. The fight continued like this for a long period of time with Draco sending dangerous curses, and Athena countering them with her flames. His blond hair fell into his eyes as he yelled with rage willing the curses to come with more force, but she kept blocking them. Glancing behind him, he could see Lucius's face. This needed to be finished; more importantly, he needed to be the one that finished it. Failure to do so would not be tolerated.

Draco raised his wand, but before he could utter a single curse flames wrapped around him singing his clothes and his hair. The flames licked at his skin teasing his flesh, but not burning it. With a sudden burst of energy, the Malfoy heir let loose a fountain of water from his wand watching with satisfaction as Athena's flames died out. His wand was raised ready to end the duel, but he was weak from his last spell. He no longer had the energy to send a cruciatus curse, and the realization scared him. He could feel his father's glare settling over him like a blanket; his skin begun to tickle with the fear of the punishment he would receive for losing the duel. When he glanced at Athena, her eyes were filled with empathy.

She understood.

Immediately, she dropped to her knees cradling her burned hand close to her chest. She panted dramatically looking up at Draco with distaste, but behind her angry look, he could sense her compassion.

She was purposefully pretending to be exhausted.

"I-I withdraw." She gasped out wrenching her eyes away from Draco's.

For a moment, there was a silence in the air. She had withdrawn?

Voldemort rose from his seat, and Lucius Malfoy gave a discreet nod to Draco. Pride oozed off of Lucius, it seeped out his pores and traveled through the thick fabric of his robes before wrapping around Draco. There was once a time when Draco would greedily drink in his father's pride, but now, his father's emotions smothered him; it made it impossible to breath, and desperately, Draco turned his head back to Athena's fallen form.

Her father was now standing directly in front of her; his cold, snake-like eyes was watching her with disgust. Draco looked on with fear as the Dark Lord stared down at his daughter.

"You challenge him to a duel in a public setting." Voldemort spoke lowly his voice coated with the promise of torture. "Then, you fail to finish him." The Dark Lord spun around to stare at Draco, and without breaking eye contact with the Malfoy heir, he sent the cruciatus curse flying towards his daughter.

The amount of anger, disappointment, and disgust that rested in his voice mingled in the air with Lucius's pride, and Draco clenched his eyes shut unwilling to watch the scene. He could hear Athena's screams bouncing off the walls, and he felt shame clawing at the pit of his stomach. He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for Voldemort to torture him instead of Athena. He wanted to take the suffering away from the beautiful girl lying only a few feet away from him. Instead, he listened to her screams too afraid to even move a muscle.

He was a coward.