Disclaimer: I own none of the characters you recognize.

A/N: I decided to upload this just to get reactions out of you guys. I might decide to continue, just to get this story out of my life. It's going to take me a while if I do. I haven't touched this story in years and quite frankly, the plot is very shaky. It was my first story.

Chapter one – Bittersweet Farewell

The weather had been horrible all week, thanks to Chloe. Lord Voldemort looked out at the rain from the third story bedroom of the Riddle house and smiled. He could tell that the time for his plan was approaching at high speed, and he couldn't wait. Harry Potter would be his this time, no matter what it cost.

* * *

Chloe pushed her wet violet hair back from her pale face and sighed. She hated this. Controlling the weather for "the evil man", as she referred to him among her friends. She hated him, but still she worked for him. She needed to. It was the only safe way to keep herself and her allies from being discovered, and since the dark mark had never taken to her skin, she could betray him at any time.

She decided to make the wind a little stronger and turned the rain into sleet, which would gradually turn into hail and eventually snow by itself if the wind was cold enough. Heh, snow in July. She smiled at the thought and went back inside, where she ran straight into none other than the rat-faced, flaxen haired Draco Malfoy. He glared at her.

"Watch it, Himura!" he growled, spitting out her surname as if it were something unpalatable. It was her turn to glare. It was his fault anyway. Why did he want to go out onto the roof in such bad weather? What was he even doing here at the house?

"You watch it, Malfoy." She sneered, shoving passed him and going down the stairs the to Dark Lord's room. Her eyes were bright with annoyance. She was so sick of doing this: get up, brush teeth, eat, manipulate the weather, report to the Dark Lord. Day in, day out, that's all she would do for the past two months. She felt the soft spot behind her ears tingling, and forced herself to calm down. When she entered the Dark Lord's room, Nagini hissed at her. Chloe frowned at the large boa, wondering why she'd hissed at her. She'd never done that before. It seemed everyone was mad or irritated today.

"Ah, Chloe. I noticed that you changed the rain into sleet. Nice choice." Voldemort cooed. Chloe was glad his back was turned, because she rolled her eyes, thinking Wow. You're really observant, aren't you? Even though people all over town can tell that the rain had changed as well. She took a deep breath, trying to get rid of her frustration.

"Yes, milord, I have. The wind is at a considerably higher speed than it was five minutes ago, as well." She played the role of "the loving servant", respecting her master and doing his every whim. She allowed herself a small smile. He was such a moron. Unfortunately, Voldemort chose this moment to whip around, making Chloe jump. She remembered then that she still wore her favorite –albeit worn out and torn in several places- emerald cloak, which covered the lower half of her face. It angered Voldemort to no end whenever she wore it in his presence, and she guessed it was because of that fact. His red eyes narrowed with anger. However, this time, he didn't tell her to take it off. Instead, he took a deep breath - similar to the one Chloe had done - and forced a smile onto his face, which made him look even creepier.

"Now that you have finished with your weather manipulation, I have a new assignment for you."

* * *

Chloe left the room an hour later, then stomped down the stairs to the second story and into her personal room Voldemort had given her when she had arrived at the beginning of May. She was glad that no one was on the staircase or near her bedroom, because she didn't want to deal with anyone. She slammed the door, then flung herself onto the bed, resisting the urge to punch the pillow. He wanted her to go on that mission! The one mission all his other Death Eaters couldn't do because they always wound up getting caught! A lightning flash illuminated the room, reflecting off of several thin blades that lay on her bedside table. She smiled, feeling her anger subside, and reached out for one of the knives. That was another thing Voldemort detested about her. She was highly skilled with throwing knives, able to use them with such accuracy that she could hit someone between the eyes from fifty feet away.

As she continued to stare at her blade, an evil idea crept its way into her mind. Not about Voldemort, no, but about Malfoy. That rich little bastard had pissed her off more than once, and always she had let it slide because the Dark Lord had told her not to harm him. Now, however, he was free game. The Dark Lord was mad at the little slime ball for failing in his task to kill Dumbledore, so he wouldn't care if Chloe gave Draco the family warning, right?

* * *

The next day. Surrey.

Harry Potter couldn't believe it. He was finally seventeen, and now he could leave the Dursleys forever. He was tempted to jump up and down, laughing and cheering, but the journey he was about to go on after he left was everything but cheerful and happy. He had to go on a mission to find the final horcruxes, objects with a part of a soul in them, in order to destroy Voldemort. He had wanted to go on this journey alone, but his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had decided to tag along and he had to let them.

Harry put on his glasses and looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It read 7:30 am. He sighed, and then looked around his room. It had been given to him six years ago because his aunt and uncle thought that if he moved to a different part of the house, Hogwarts wouldn't be able to write him. To their utter fury, it hadn't worked. The other thing that angered them about Hogwarts contacting him for the first time all those years ago was that they had failed in their attempt to squash the magic out of him. Harry was grateful that they hadn't succeeded; because now he had the two most wonderful friends anyone could ever ask for. It was a bonus that he could now terrify Dudley just as easily as Dudley used to terrify him.

All of a sudden, his bedroom door was flung open and a girl with bushy brown hair flew across the room and gave him a big hug.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Hermione squealed, still hugging him. She and Ron had arrived about a week ago after Harry had finally convinced his aunt and uncle to let them stay. They had been given the guest room, and even though Hermione was a girl, they had been forced to share. Quite honestly, Harry was surprised that they hadn't killed each other yet. At the moment though, Harry was having trouble breathing and was unable to respond to Hermione's enthusiastic way to say good morning. Hermione realized this and let go, blushing slightly.

"Thanks, and good morning to you too, Hermione. So, Ron up yet?" Hermione rolled her eyes at that.

"You're joking, right? Ronald, up at this hour? Not a chance. Come on, get up! I'll make you some breakfast." She left the room after that so he could get dressed. He got up, somewhat surprised that she had almost suffocated him. He went over to his wardrobe and opened it, staring at his reflection. It wasn't the same reflection of the boy who had looked into it last year. Outwardly, it was the same. Same scrawny boy with messy black hair, same emerald green eyes, same old scar. But, he felt different inside, like his personality had be altered. It was older and… darker somehow. He supposed seeing Dumbledore die in front of him had more of an affect on him than it did when Sirius or Cedric had died. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt, then closed the wardrobe and went downstairs. He entered the kitchen and Hermione smiled at him from the stove. He went over to help her, but she pushed him over to the table and made him sit down.

"It's your birthday, Harry. Take the day off and relax for once." She went back over to the stove while Harry sat at the table, just looking around. This is my last day here, finally, he thought. Dudley chose this moment to wander through the door. Harry blinked. What was his cousin doing up at this hour? Then he smiled. The smell of the bacon probably woke him up. Dudley was the same he'd always been. A huge, mean, blond haired boy, mostly muscle now than what Aunt Petunia used to call "puppy fat." The diet his school had forced him to start three years ago had worked, but probably not how they had intended. Dudley looked over to the stove and noticed Hermione cooking instead of Harry. He looked at his cousin.

"Why aren't you cooking? Decided to make your friend do it?" He sat down in his normal seat. Hermione came over and set plates in front of both of them, then brought the bacon over on another plate and set it in the center of the table.

"It's Harry's birthday and I decided to cook breakfast to give Harry a break, since you guys never do," Hermione said, setting another plate down in the middle of the table, stacked high with pancakes. Dudley glared at her. She glared back, making him squeak. Harry laughed and then, helping himself to the pancakes and bacon, began to eat. Dudley started eating as well, but was only allowed to have the pancakes; Hermione had made them low fat.

Ron, Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia came in shortly after they had started eating. Ron wished Harry happy birthday, but the Dursleys said nothing. Harry was used to it. His friends, however, were shocked at their behavior. Ron had enough self-control not to say anything, but Hermione didn't for once.

"I can't believe you guys! It's Harry's birthday, and you don't say anything to him?!" Harry looked at her, amazed. So did Ron and Dudley. Uncle Vernon looked furious. He couldn't believe that a girl was yelling at him for not saying anything to his stupid nephew!

"Happy birthday," Aunt Petunia mumbled. Harry looked at her for a moment, a little surprised, then smiled.

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia," He said. Hermione cooled off a little bit, but was still angry that his uncle hadn't said anything. A few hours had passed and she was still glaring at Uncle Vernon. She had even followed him into the living room and sat in the chair next to him, just so she could. Harry and Ron had followed her to make sure she didn't do anything too drastic. Ron was also glaring at him occasionally. Finally, Uncle Vernon had enough.

"All right, already! Harry, happy birthday," he said, purple in the face. Hermione smiled and got up.

"There, now. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" She was still smiling as she left the room. Harry and Ron followed her, Harry trying not to laugh because of the look on his uncle's face. He had never been more grateful to them. This was the best birthday he had ever had.

* * *

Chloe had waited two days, contemplating her revenge against Draco. The old family warning wouldn't suffice in this case; the little slim didn't deserve it. She had considered revealing what she really was to him, but that was a little risky, especially if the Dark Lord found out. The last thing she wanted was him coming after her because of what she is. She didn't need that kind of distraction.

In the end, she decided just to scare him. The Dark Lord would get angry if she killed him, or at least his father would, so that was out of the question. She approached him later that night, her most prized dagger hidden in her oversized wristband. He looked at her, his gray eyes narrowed in hatred.

"What do you want, Himura?" His voice was full of loathing, and she smiled at it. He was slightly surprised. "Why are you smiling?" he demanded, his voice rising slightly. She placed her hand softly on his shoulder, then, standing on her toes, put her lips to his ear and whispered, "Follow me."

To her absolute delight, he did. She led him onto the roof, and then walked over to the side of the house. He stopped just beyond her reach. She frowned.

"What? I'm not going to throw you off." She said testily, although she had considered doing just that. He stayed where he was. She sighed, sitting down. This action seemed to have caught his attention, because he sat down next to her, not too close though. It didn't matter anyway, because this is what Chloe had wanted him to do. She rapidly took a knife from her belt, pinning one side of his robes to the roof. She quickly did the same on his other side, then flicked out her dagger and held it to his throat. His eyes went wide with shock. He hadn't even noticed she had moved until she placed the blade under his chin.

"Now, listen well, Malfoy," she whispered in his ear. "If you ever cross me again, I won't hesitate to kill you. You have no idea what you'd be dealing with if you do. And as a reminder…." she raised her dagger to his left cheek and slashed down, cutting from the edge of his eye down to his jaw line. It was a shallow cut, but still deep enough to leave a scar. He cried out in pain, and Chloe took this moment to remove her knives and leave. Once she was back in her room, she locked the door and placed her knives on the bedside table. She was about to do the same with her dagger but noticed something on it. Blood. She frowned, because normally she cut so fast blood didn't have time to get on the blade. A little unnerved, yet happy nonetheless, she raised the blade to her mouth and licked the blood off, savoring the taste.

* * *

Chloe knew the next evening that taking revenge on Malfoy had been a really bad idea. The little rat had snitched on her, and now she was being called before the Dark Lord. Knowing this time that if she wore her cloak Voldemort would take it from her by force, she left it in her room, wearing her only shirt without the back cut off. She left her all her weapons as well, except her dagger, which she always wore concealed in her wristband. She had been standing outside the Dark Lords room for about three minutes, wondering if she should go in or run for it. Then again, she didn't know if the Dark Lord was mad at her, or wanted to thank her. Even if she was an Emotion Reader, Chloe could never tell with the Dark Lord. She supposed it was because his eyes were completely red with small pupils, which didn't make any sense to her at all. She had red eyes as well, as did the rest of her clan, but hers were the color of blood, not the color of an apple. They were red nevertheless, but Chloe still had difficulty reading his emotions.

All of a sudden, the door opened of its own accord. She took it as a good sign, thinking that if Voldemort was mad, he would have opened the door himself. She entered the room with this slightly comforting thought, but it was dashed the moment she moved away from the door. It slammed behind her and locked itself. She swore in her mind. Definitely should've run, she thought as she sat down. Voldemort glared at her. She looked into his eyes. This time she could read his emotions perfectly. His eyes said he was mad at both of them. She frowned. Both of them? It was only then that she realized that Malfoy was in the room. She smiled when she saw the scar, not caring if Voldemort saw the smile or not. She heard Voldemort's robes rustle and ducked just in time. A jet of green light blasted off the back of the chair. She looked up at him, shaking slightly.

"Draco, you may leave. I have to deal with other matters." Voldemort said, not taking his eyes off Chloe. Draco looked at her with wide eyes, then got up and left. Chloe watched him leave, and then looked back at Voldemort. He was still glaring at her, but some of the anger was gone. Not enough to make her feel at ease though. He lowered his wand, to where it was pointing her heart instead of at her head. She touched the hilt of her dagger in case he attacked, a motion he didn't notice.

"So…Draco's accusation was correct. You did attack him." His eyes still showed extreme rage, and Chloe was sure he was going to attack. She braced herself, then grew a little bold because of his delay.

"Yeah, I did. So what? The brat deserved it." Voldemort was about to strike at her with another killing curse when she stood up, showing him no fear, even though she was scared out of her mind.

Voldemort wasn't used to people doing this. The last person to do this to him was Harry, but that was when he had first come back and the boy hadn't been aware of his full powers. Then he remembered Dumbledore. Dumbledore had never been afraid of him. No matter, the old man was dead and his little friend was about to be reunited with his protector.

"Since you know now that Draco was telling the truth, I'll take my leave to go." She turned and left the room at a run, closing the door behind her. It was a good thing she did, because a second later the door was obliterated by another killing curse. He didn't follow her, though, and she was glad.

She went back to her room, locked the door, then gathered up her stuff and left through the window. She wasn't really running away, she was just going on the mission the Dark Lord had told her to do. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Chloe. She landed gracefully on her feet, bending her knees a little so they wouldn't break. She ran down to the graveyard, then turned and looked back at the house. It was a lot smaller at this distance, she noted.

"Farewell, and wish me luck." She said softly to no one in particular. Then she made a mock salute to the house, turned and disappeared.

A/N: Should I start this story back up? R&R and tell me what you think please. ~Renrin~