A/N: Wow, it's been a long time since I've updated! I'm currently in the full swing of school, and now that I have an idea of what my weekly schedule is looking like, I can attempt regular, weekly updates. Please don't forget to leave a comment!

Chapter 1

One Year Later

The early evening was quiet. The sun was making its disappearance from the sky in magnificent oranges, reds, and yellows. Though the typically ruthless winter had crept up on the vast Scottish countryside, the day was unusually warm and the snow was nonexistent. It's as if the weather knew the importance of the day and adjusted itself accordingly.

A house elf with a narrow nose and long ears scrambled around a room, wide emerald green eyes watching her dart from a vanity to a dresser and back to the vanity. The child, very nearly a year old, watched the elf with continued fascination as tiny dresses of every style and color levitated themselves above her crib.

"No no no," the little elf exclaimed, "these simply won't do!"

The child giggled at the elf's frustrations, clapping her hands in joy and not at all understanding the severity of the situation.

Without warning, another elf Apparated into the room.

"Bella," the first elf sighed with relief. "Levy needs your help!"

Bella took one look at the situation and immediately set to work. She motioned a levitating dress to come closer to her. It was a simple one – black velvet with silken red trim. She began making her adjustments. With a snap of her fingers, the red trim turned a deep green. The sleeves elongated themselves until they were wrist-length. She included cuffs at the wrists that clasped together with a single silver button. An elegant yet subtle damask print appeared near the bottom of the dress. The sewn in black sash completed the outfit. With another snap of the fingers, the dress appeared on the bubbly baby.

"Levy thanks you, Bella," Levy said with another sigh. "Levy's not too good at clothes making."

Bella smiled slightly in response and walked over to the baby, lifting her up out of her crib. The child was already wearing black stockings and black suede shoes. A simple velvet green headband completed the outfit, and she was ready for the night.

"Best get you off then, eh little mite?" Bella said, tickling her chin.

The child laughed in response, grabbing Bella's finger and bringing it to her mouth to chew. Bella nodded once at Levy and exited the room.


Books scattered the Dark Lord's desk. Crumpled pieces of ink-stained parchment littered his workspace as well as the floor. The fire in the hearth crackled away, flames occasionally flaring simultaneously with his rising anger.

He'd been searching for what seemed like decades for the cause of his wife's mysterious death. Every time he thought he was close, he was pushed back several steps. He wanted desperately to know what curse had overcome her, and if that same curse would extend to his child – his one and only heir.

He sighed sharply, and sat back in his leather chair. He hadn't spent too much time with his daughter. Of course, he'd arranged for her to be treated and cared for like royalty. She had the best maids and wet nurses as well as Bella, who'd become something like a surrogate mother to the child. There was no love lost, though she took after her mother with her exuberant personality, smile, and magic (which remained undeveloped due to her youth, but would undoubtedly match that of her parents).

It came down to the fact that looking at his daughter – even for more than a moment – was excruciating. She reminded him of what he'd allowed to happen. He'd allowed himself to fall in love with another. And he'd allowed that love to be taken from him. To slip between his fingers like loose sand.

He scoffed. Love. Such a useless emotion. And yet, it had consumed him. It had warmed him to his core. And now that he was without it, he felt himself weak for ever letting it occur. He was the Dark Lord. Ruthless, merciless. The tenderness Kareena Black had showed him as an extension of her own affectionate character had awakened something within him that should have forever stayed dormant and slumbering.

But she was gone now. Of someone's own doing. And he had the sneaking suspicion it was an indirect smite to him. She had simply been a pawn in a larger game that he absolutely could not stand to lose.

A knock sounded on the large wooden door of his study. "Enter."

The little house elf named Bella, who had appointed herself his daughter's keeper, stepped inside with the child. He nodded once at her. She proceeded to hand the baby over to him with a bow and Apparate from the room.

Tom looked down at his heir, who stared up at him with infantile curiosity. His stomach clenched. She was beginning to show signs of having a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose just like her mother.

"Impeccable genes," he whispered. He cleared his throat and hardened his gaze once more. He snapped his fingers and dark velvet ceremonial robes appeared on the child over her dress. A dark veil covered her face and he was thankful he would not have to look at the smile that reminded him so much of his late wife.

"It's time to introduce you, my dear."


The Grand Hall was silent, ominous cloaked figures standing in rows, facing north at attention. Lazy evening light seeped in through the stained glass windows, casting darkened shadows on stone walls. The figures subtly straightened their posture as the Dark Lord glided into the hall, holding the infant child. He sat himself in front of them on a throne made of iron snakes, red velvet, and pure Goblin gold.

"Kneel."

The figures knelt before their lord, masked faces bowing low.

"My daughter," he began, "my one and only heir, was born this day, one year ago, on the 27th day of December. Mark that date, my most loyal servants, for in 18 more Decembers, this witch will be a dark force to be reckoned with."

He glanced down at the girl who was now fast asleep and then back to his followers. "She will lead alongside me. She will rule the world with an iron fist. She will tolerate neither muggles nor mudbloods nor blood traitors. She will be an anathema. And so shall be her name. Rise and salute my heir."

The Death Eaters rose and placed their right fists strongly over their hearts in honor of their future leader.

Tom looked down at Anathema once more. "See how they show respect for you, my child," he said. "This is your future. This is your home. Welcome to the darkness." He took his wand and pressed the tip firmly against her chest, branding the symbol of her status into her skin.

The baby's eyes flew open at the sudden pain, and she began crying. Winds picked up within the hall as her unfiltered and unadulterated magic went wild. A circle of fire encased them all that was promptly distinguished by Tom with a flick of his wrist. The Death Eaters felt the power of the magic that enveloped them, and fell to their knees in a deep bow.

"My Anathema."

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