Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. J.K. Rowling does. NO monetary gain is being made from this fanfic. (Tempest is my original character though)

Author's Note: If anyone knows how I can say the the Dark Lord is talking without constantly saying the Dark Lord, I'd love to know. I'd use He/Him and all that, but then it could confuse because Draco is a male too. Also, I'm aware that Voldie is somewhat out of cahracter. This is purposeful.

Beta: Yes, by Kate

"Enter." A cold, hard voice instructed. Draco complied, wondering if his imagination had added the slight hiss to what could only be the Dark Lord's voice.

Turning away from the now closed door, Draco accidentally met his eyes with the red ones of the Man sitting behind the desk. The red orbs seemed to pierce his soul, almost as if they could see all he was, had been, and could be. For a moment that felt like hours, he couldn't avert his gaze. It was as if there was a weight pinning his gaze. When the weight lifted, Draco automatically threw his gaze to the floor.

The sound of a snicker made look up, cautiously, to his right. Curled up on a couch, the girl from the corridor, gazed at him with amusement. She'd thrown her robes over the arm of the couch opposite her, had kicked off her shoes to fold her feet underneath her, and was drinking from a goblet Draco knew she hadn't come in with.

What struck Draco as odd wasn't the fact that a girl was laughing at him (which under normal circumstances was highly unusual), but that the girl seemed to have made herself at home, and that the Dark Lord seemed uncaring. From what Draco knew, the Dark Lord did not want, or need, friends. The only one who had ever been known to be so casual (and even then, it was erratic), and get away with it was his Aunt Bellatrix. That this girl was seemingly treated in the same regard made Draco wonder exactly who she was.

"This is why I asked you here at this 'un-Merlin-like hour of the morning' I believe were your words." The dark Lord gestured towards Draco, speaking to the nameless girl mockingly. Thankfully he hadn't seemed to notice Draco's lack of proper acknowledgment.

The girl responded by scowling and drinking from her goblet, muttering something around it that seemed to have a faint hiss. Whatever she had said was very amusing as the Dark Lord promptly laughed. The sound made Draco's hair stand up on his neck, and left him fighting the urge to run out of the study.

Unaffected, the girl turned to look Draco up and down appraisingly.

"Who is he?"

"Your partner for your current run."

The girl sent a look over her shoulder at the dark Lord that clearly said that wasn't what she meant.

"What's your name?" She asked Draco.

"Draco Malfoy." he replied. She made a noise and cocked her head.

"Doesn't look much like 'Cissa. More like his father." She mused. Draco just stood there, uncertain at being ignored by the Dark Lord.

"No arguments? Proclamations that you work alone, and don't need or want any help?" The Dark Lord directed at the girl.

"Has it ever helped?" She sighed. "What's his clearance?"

"None." The Dark Lord grinned happily, as if knowing the word would provoke a reaction. It did. A violent one.

"None." She repeatedly calmly, then pretty much yelled, "None! He has no clearance for fieldwork? You've given me a rookie - no, a newborn to work with!"

"If I remember correctly, you did say you wanted more of a challenge."

"A newborn." She repeated vehemently, standing now. Unable to sit back and let this person make him out to be as incompetent as Crabbe and Goyle, Draco spoke up.

"I'm at the top of my training group. I'm not some uninformed idiot!"

"Shut up!" She snarled.

He shut up. Not because she told him to, but because her eyes seemed to have acquired a slight red tint. He needed to concentrate on convincing himself that he was just projecting, because of her blatant anger.

"As Malfoy has just interrupted," The word was spoken with a sharp edge to it. "He is a top trainee and has shown more than enough ability."

Letting the argument wash over his head, Draco wondered if he'd always had such a over active imagination. First the hissing voices, then the girl's eye going red? He was shaken out of his thoughts by the Dark Lord's sharp raised voice.

"Enough! My patience is not boundless, and you are pushing it's limits. You will be working with Malfoy, and that is final. Understood?"

So she can do wrong, Draco thought watching the odd interaction.

"Tempest!" A hint of warmth that spoke of added itself to the warning already in His voice.

The name fit the girl perfectly, Draco decided. Tempest, or Storm in english. It matched the whirlwind of emotion that she seemed to posses.

"Understood." was her terse reply. She turned and stalked out of the room. Draco followed at what he hoped was a safe distance, understanding that her answer had been their dismissal.

Once the door closed and they were both in the silent corridor, she turned on him.

"Before you say anything, I want you tog et one thing straight. I'm in charge. You will do what I say, when and how I say it."

Draco nodded slowly conscious of the fact that he was treating this Tempest girl as he would his Aunt Bellatrix. Like she was violent, unstable, and ready to blow at any second.It wasn't just the interaction the he had just witnessed between her and the Dark Lord, he was quite sure he would still be cautious. It was the aura she put out, that spoke of danger and violence. She also carried the slight scent of Blackthorne, that if you knew to look for it, told of Dark Arts practice.

"Is there anything I should know?" He asked.

"You will know what I decide you need to know, and when I decided you need to know it. Clear? Now be quite. I need to change plans. Your appearance has changed things.

"Changes what things?" he asked, and was rewarded with a glare that matched his Aunt's so perfectly, that a idea formed itself. What if Tempest was his Aunt's daughter? She had always been very secretive, and his mother would have been pregnant around the same time, so he wouldn't have remembered anything.

"Do you have quarters in the castle?" Tempest looked up suddenly from her thoughts.

"No, Why?"

"Floo to your home then. Change into something more casual, and try not to look like such a pompous idiot. I'll meet you in front of the main receiving room's fireplace in thirty minutes. Can you perform glamour charms?"

"No, and what's this about changing clothes?"

"You'll find out soon enough." She turned and silently walked back the same way he had seen her walking from. Her shoes and robes were still in the study.