"Please sit, Severus." Albus frowned at the young man before him. He had taken this boy in as a spy when he had confessed to all his transgressions, when his beloved Ravena had been threatened by the Dark Lord. Severus had seemed cleansed then. Now he was twitchy, anxious, and pacing.

"I can't. He's up to something. Something big. Dangerous. . . at least, for the Order, I'm sure." Severus paced with increased agitation. It was most irksome.

"Sit. Tell me what you know."

"Nothing. The circle has been left out of his plans. But, I think you had best all start looking to your security. I think the Order has been penetrated."

"Indeed." Albus frowned more deeply. The young man just would not sit down. "Severus, is there something else that bothers you?"

"He must suspect. Why else leave the circle out of his plans?"

"Really Severus. The man is simply mad with power and would give no one else an in on such an advantage. You know he has been this way before."

"Yes but. . ."

"But nothing, Severus. Sit down." Of course he would not. That would be giving Albus something he wanted.

"I fear it is over. For the Order. You know he has heard that. . . prophecy." The sneer was unmistakable.

"Yes, we all have at this point. But I doubt we will have to worry about it much longer. He will try to attack someone, and then we shall have him. For he shall be defeated, and soon. Now Severus, please do have a seat."

"I can't, sir. I am overdue to check up on Ravena and Patrick."

"Ah yes, and little Millicent too, if I'm not mistaken." He stiffened, exactly as Albus suspected he would. "Calm yourself Severus. I doubt he even knows she exists, let alone that she is yours."

"If I had it my way, no one would."

"Naturally, my dear boy, naturally. Well, I suppose you should be on your way. Of course, they live completely muggle now, do they not? It will keep them below his senses."

"For now," muttered the boy, exactly as Albus knew he would. Such a predictable young man, trying to bury himself in dark tragedy when he had hardly brushed the surface of suffering. It was almost endearing. Almost.

"Then go along my boy. Don't forget to not be seen."

Then boy did not dignify this with a response. He swept off down the stairs. Albus clucked his tongue at Fawkes. That would work better when he had a little more weight on him, truthfully.

"Well, Fawkes, I've done all I can. If all goes well, history shall be made tonight. Oh yes, a great story there will be to be told tomorrow, no doubt. Now, let us make sure that everything is in place. Voldemort shall be vanquished for the time being, and the Death Eaters caught. All shall be as it should."

Fawkes grumped at him. Well there was no use trying to explain his cunning to a molting Phoenix. What could he understand anyway? Only one third of his life was spent truly comprehensible. The other two thirds of the time he was either too young to understand or too crotchety to care. Immortality was nothing much, when you got right down to it.

Popping a lemon drop into his mouth (were there no candies that muggles simply did better?), he left his office to make sure the students were behaving themselves at lunch. They really were not any trouble, not even the Slytherins, but who would expect that of the children of a dark war that left no one untouched. Fame would soon come back to these halls, and he could bask in that glory a little bit soon enough.

~Ten years later~

"Well, I'm here to remind you of the mess you left when you went away. It's not fair to deny me of the cross I bear that you gave to me: you, you, you- Ought to know!"

A small girl sat on her knees on a red stool. In one hand was a styrofoam plate with paints mixed on it, and in the other was a paintbrush. She was applying paint to a picture on her wall, meticulously paying attention to detail. A small smile touched her thin pink lips. She put the brush and plate aside, and pulled back her aqua-colored hair.

She had no real understanding as to why it was that color, but supposedly it had something to do with a potions accident that had left her mother with green hair. Genetics supposedly did the rest. Well, that and magic. But of course, magic was something she was not supposed to try to toy with without permission. Lucius had his ways of making her behave. Her father would allow a certain amount of punishment to be bestowed upon, most especially when she was having fun.

So she kept he enjoyment to herself as best she could, and hid her fears as well, lest that bring down more punishment. Only obedience was tolerated. She would do as she was told, or she would be punished, by her own hand as well as that of others. Life was pain, disappointment and suffering. There was no hope of anything else.

"Millicent, what are you doing in there?"

"Painting," the girl called, scrambling down from the stool. A tall, imposing man with blonde hair entered the room. Lucius had a sneer on his face. He looked at her painting.

"Worthless, as are almost all your endeavors. The master wants to see you at once."

"I must wash my hands."

"When the master calls, you come," Lucius snarled, grabbing Millicent by the arm and dragging her to another room.

"Lucius! You go too far with her. Release her arm!" Lucius paled and released Millicent instantly. She ran to her father for comfort. He received her as he always did. He accepted her little signs of affection, but gave her none of his own.

"I will decide the punishments here. Millicent knows she will punish herself. For now, we have something for you, child."

"Truly? For me?" Millicent looked at her father in awe. He had never given her anything she did not know she had coming to her. Right now he seemed pleased, but she knew that would not last.

"Yes. Hold out your hand. Lucius, give her the letter," Voldemort ordered. Lucius handed her the envelope.

"Open it," Voldemort ordered Millicent. She examined the cream envelope quickly, and then broke the seal on the back. The letter inside read:

Dear Miss Millicent Ri,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. We hope to see you at the beginning of the year, September 1st.

Professor Minevra McGonagall

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandos

"Am I allowed to go?" Millicent dared to ask. She had never set foot outside of the house her father kept her in, although she had learned much about the world from tutors. Of course they were all dead by summer- no one lasted long in Voldemort's power.

"On one condition. You must do something for me, when you are there. Do not ask what it is; you will learn that only if you accept."

"If I do, then I can go?" She was pushing her luck, repeating herself like this. She winced to herself at her stupid question.

"Yes, you will go." Millicent pondered Voldemort's offer. She had never been anywhere outside of this house, except for Draco's room. How she wished she could go! It would be a small price to pay for freedom, would it not? There was no telling what he would ask of her, but oh! to be outside, with other people. . .

"I will do as you order," she told Voldemort.

"Good. Here is what I shall do. I will have someone take you to Diagon Alley to get your wand and robes. When you come back I will teach you a spell. The spell will be very important, and I will tell you why when you start learning it."

"Thank you so much!" Millicent risked trying his patience by hugging him again, but Voldemort had an odd smile on his face.

"Yes, you will thank me. Now, finish your painting. I'm sure I will want to see it when you are done."