I would like to thank every one who DIDN'T FLAME me. Thanks for the reviews you guy's rock.

I would like to also point out that I do know what a Mary Sue is, and no I am not self-inserting, because if I were to be in a fiction it would be as The Amazing Dork!! And she's not in Wolf.

Also, Rose is not actually a 15-month-old, she just looks it. You'll find out why later, but she's actually two souls combined (her initials are RR – guess who she is) and she's kind of like Harry's guardian angel… just pretend that Dumbledore stopped her from combining with Rose in the canon ok.

And I was a bossy know-it-all who spoke like Rose when I was that age… then again, I also tried to eat a dictionary. The really big ones, that have to be split in two because they are so large… and then I dropped it on my foot.

Romanian will now be in Underlined.

Gaelic will be in Italic.

Parseltongue will be in Bold.

Words: 6,256

Chapter 2

Alliances

Narcissa Malfoy was a stereotype in many peoples opinion: she had the classic model look, with her blond hair and blue eyes and thin, tall figure. She was viewed as nothing more than the dim trophy wife of Lucius Malfoy, and she didn't mind. When people underestimated her, her plans worked out twice as well. Narcissa may have been a purebred Pureblooded Witch, but she was human enough to admit she was terrified. The only thing that had kept her family safe while allowing them to voraciously drabble in the Dark Arts was Lord Voldemort. The same self proclaimed Lord who had been defeated by a child the near same age as Narcissa's own Son.

And now her Husband was at risk.

She didn't love Lucius Malfoy; hers were one of the arranged marriages that blossomed into a close friendship. Rather than develop romantic attachments to one another they instead shared the details of their secret affairs. But she would dearly miss him if he were to be sent to Azkaban, and so would their Son.

Their Son would be forever tainted by his Fathers arrest. Their beautiful innocent little boy wouldn't be able to grow up with his Father, or see his parents in public together, or get hugs – when Lucius deemed it an appropriate situation to hug in – Narcissa frowned. If Lucius went to Azkaban, her Draco would be little better off than Harry Potter – after all Draco would still have Narcissa.

No, she thought, it wouldn't do to pity the boy who is causing such mess. Narcissa hated worrying, it gave her frown lines, which required hours of beauty potions and handfuls of gold. It was more the fact that she needed the treatment, than having to spend the money that bothered her.

Narcissa Malfoy paced the front corridor, just waiting. Her Husband and one other Inner Circle Death Eater had accompanied their Lord to his defeat but as far as she knew they would not be permitted inside. There was a small chance, maybe, that Lucius knew how Voldemort died.

How the Daily Prophet got hold of the 'Boy-Who-Lived' story before her Husband even returned home Narcissa would never know. She was relatively sure she didn't want to know either.

Beside her, Dobby stood with Draco held tight in his arms. "Mistress, the Master bes returning, Dobby bes telling you Mistress."

Narcissa shot him a cold look, and turned to open the door. The young blond child wiggled slightly as he recognized the word 'Master' and knew it meant 'Father'. He looked imploringly at his Mother with large grey eyes and held him arms out.

Narcissa didn't reach out for him, because she was already running through the threshold and down the pathway towards her Husband. He was brusied and his hair was a state, his robes torn in places, but other wise he seemed to be healthy enough. She stopped in front of him; she didn't dare try and enclose him in a hug like she would have done if they had been inside the privacy of their Manor.

"Lucius!" She whispered and his eyes met hers.

Dobby came up behind them, Draco still wiggling in his arms and coughed. "Mistress, mistress, a cars be going passed." It said shrilly.

Narcissa turned to stare at the Dodge Viper; her mouth dropped open as she grabbed Draco and held him protectively.

"It's not Aurors," Lucius informed his Wife, who was on the look out for Wizarding police. "They're going to Lestrange Manor."

"Oh, are the family back in the country?" She asked conversationally. Her fears, for the time being, forgotten. "Last I heard they lived in some Eastern country."

"Romania dear," Lucius said distractedly. The car drove along side the joint Quidditch pitch, the sun glinting off its tinted windows. Lucius frowned. "Maybe we should visit tomorrow."

"Yes, lets," she turned and made her way back inside. The car stopped outside Lestrange Manor. Lucius watched as, first, the butler got out of the car, a small black haired child in his arms, and a child sized backpack slung over his shoulder. A tall, aristocratic dark haired man stepped out when the butler opened his door. Lucius stared at whom he assumed to be Lord Lestrange. The Lord leant back in the car and pulled out what Lucius first assumed to be a life size doll. Which turned out to be a young girl – presumably his child – wearing a lacy blue dress.

They walked towards the door, the butler in the rear. A tall woman with black hair to her waist opened the door for them and smiled. When everyone had crossed the threshold, Lucius almost turned to go into his own Manor.

But something stopped him. He caught a flash of white, like the reflection off a watch when you twist your arm about. He squinted and finally noticed what was reflecting the light. The girl child had woken up and was staring straight at him. Her mouth was half open as she smiled. Two very sharp, shiny looking eyeteeth winked at him as she waved almost mockingly.

Swallowing heavily, Lucius nodded his head and tried to appear unhurried as he hurried back into the safety of his Manor. He would see them tomorrow, and he would puzzle over the child for now.

"Narcissa," he called as the door slammed shut behind him. He vaguely noticed a House Elf warding the door as he walked down the corridor. He entered a large parlour room to the right, and smiled at his Wife who was sitting in one of the wing-backed chairs, her shoulders straight.

"Lucius, what happened?" She pressed a hand to her mouth to stem the wave of questions bursting forth, her other hand pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes.

"I- to be honest I don't quite know." He frowned and took a step forward. He leant down to Draco who was sitting patiently on the floor, waiting for his Father's attention. He picked the child up and sat in another of the wing-backed chairs, the boy on his lap. "Severus and I were waiting outside, we were not permitted to enter. There was talking and laughing, until our Lord burst in. We heard shouting and saw the Killing Curse cast, on Potter Sr. I presume." Narcissa waited as he paused, wringing the handkerchief in agitation.

"Evans, she ran. I saw someone go up the stairs through the window. She had the child, Potter, with her. We could see her through the nursery window, which was open. There- Narcissa I swear it, there was another child there. A girl child! Holding a racing broom and laughing. Evans saw her of that I'm sure, but our Lord didn't."

"Maybe he did and thought her below his notice?"

"He would have feared her, I feared her and she wasn't beside me. Narcissa there was something strange about her. She felt… different." It was widely known that the Malfoy family suffered from emotional constipation, but there is always a deeper reason for things that at first seem banal. The males in the Family usually have a little talent for empathy. Being able to read other peoples emotions is a mind straining gift, and when one suffers from apathy, one is not as affected by their empathy as they should be. Lucius Malfoy just happened to be one of the more powerful in his line, and so he appeared as one of the coldest as well.

As his power was strong, he was sometimes able to sense more than emotion. He could sense being; your soul, your magic, your life. He once looked at one of his fellow Death Eaters and knew they would die within a week. Two days later, he killed the same man, irony.

When he had glimpsed the girl child through the window, he tried to read her, he wanted to suss the new threat to his Lord and Lucius' own power. The girl was blurry. Magic appeared as bright colourful wiggly lines wrapping themselves around their host in a web of power. The brighter and more colourful your magic the more powerful you are. Your life is sensed through your aura. A large sheet of energy draped across your body that just pulses with every heartbeat. Your soul is tied into it.

Lucius' own magic was a shimmering silver colour; quite powerful. His life pulsed silver as well; strong, healthy, long. The threads of forest green that were woven through his life were the indication of his soul, hanging on to mortality. When he read the girl child, her magic, her soul, and her life were two colours. That wasn't supposed to be. There had only ever been one documented case where a person had two-coloured magic, and that person had been, quite truly, a split personality. Dr. Jekel and Mr. Hyde were quite famous for their ability to revert from one person to the other in anger or fear.

"The girl child laughed, Narcissa, as our Lord killed Evans. Even Severus flinched from the sound. I didn't see what happened next well enough. I saw the green light speed towards Potter and then it hit our Lord and he was no more. Scorch marks just appeared on the walls and ceiling and Potter sat there like nothing had happened. Severus fled, probably to make a 'report' to Dumbledore. I stayed a moment longer. The girl child- Cissa I think she was going to take him with her. She packed up photographs and toys and clothing for Potter. What would someone like that want with the Saviour of the Wizarding World?"

Lucius rubbed his eyes tiredly, when he lost control of his emotions it made his head hurt. He could feel his Wife's worry and his Son's weariness. He sighed and took pity on his young child. "We shall finish this tomorrow, our Draco needs his bed." He stood and rather than give the boy to Dobby, as he usually would have done, he carried the child to his bedroom.

"What are-?" Narcissa asked, shocked but pleased in a way.

"If I had been inside of that house, I could have died with our Lord." Lucius frowned again, his back to his Wife. He began to ascend the stairs that led to the floor with Draco's nursery on it. "And I would died, and I've never ever tucked my Son in at night." He paused, "you know, there is an awful lot I haven't done."

"Maybe this is your chance. If you can keep out of Azkaban maybe the Dark Lords defeat can be a good thing for us?" Lucius just nodded. "We'll see the Lestrange's tomorrow yes?" Lucius nodded again and walked on.

XXX

The next morning dawned bright and early, and there was a girl child missing from her bed. One would have thought the Lestrange household would be caught in fits of panic, but there were calm. No one worried when Rose went missing. Rose was a special little girl, quite capable of taking care of herself.

She knew, her parents knew, everyone knew she wasn't like other children. She was too well spoken, too cynical, too cruel, too smart, too set in her ways and she'd barely begun to live. Harry Potter – now Ryder – had a well enough command of the English language, but then again Lily had been a very clever child as well.

Rose however had a completely different reason.

She had known that there were two others outside of Godric's Hollow, but she hadn't cared. One would inform Albus Dumbledore of her presence and the old man would know he failed. The other, well she just couldn't wait for Lucius to figure it out. She knew he was an empathy, she knew he was clever and opportunistic. She didn't know, however, the correct time it would take for Lucius to draw the correct conclusion about her.

Her existence shouldn't have been, and She felt guilty as sin for dragging poor Rose Robin Hammond into Her affair, but there was a young boy who needed protection. And She could protect him this way, much better than She could have as a spirit. She and Rose were essentially two separate beings. It was like hearing voices in your head. She would tell Rose things, teach her things, enable the child to do things, and in return Rose shared her body willingly, allowing Her to see and hear and feel and smell things She hadn't sensed in nigh on a thousand years.

It was no coincidence that Rose's initials were 'RR', She wanted something to remember Her old life by. In time She would fade into Rose, as nothing more than a memory and knowledge garnered from a time Rose would barely remember.

Who better than Rose to host Her? Rose: the Daughter of her own Heir, with the ability to survive death thanks to her Father? She smiled softly, sitting up in the cot of Her charge and ran a hand lovingly through the young boys hair. He had much to learn and much to accomplish.

While Fate was fickle, she was determined. She wouldn't dream of comparing herself to the Fates, never, nor was Her plans set in stone like Destiny. But She was here now, having orchestrated the meeting between Violet and Atticus and blessing their union with a girl child. She would have no use for a male-host, after all.

People always assumed Salazar Slytherin had been the dangerous founder. In fact, Slytherin was the one didn't care for people's opinions and so never bothered to hide what he was doing. She however had a reputation to keep. She couldn't abide people prying into Her business and more than once some nosy busybody ended up dead in a ditch outside of Hogwarts. But it was too late to feel remorse, She had never in life and She didn't intend to clog up Rose's brain with negative feeling either – especially not with an empathy so close by.

Harry yawned and opened his eyes, "'Lo." His small fist came up to rub his eyes and mouth groggily and Rose giggled. She allowed the body to make the noise, as at the moment She was in control of it. The 15-month-old girl child was happily playing with make believe toys and searching through Her memories from a thousand years ago, playing out make believe games of knights and horses and princesses. She smiled softly. If times were not as they were, it would never have come to this, She thought.

Poor Rose Robin, part-Vampyre and inherently cruel. Along with Her soul in the body, the child had no chance. Her own anti-Muggle prejudices had interfered already and allowed for the death of Lily Evans. It could have been avoidable, She supposed, but then memory charms would have had to been placed because Lily would not be permitted to remember her child. She sighed; all this thinking was giving her a headache.

With a soft, whispered, "come forth child," She allowed herself to slip into the mind of a one-year-old, and let Rose back into the drivers seat, so to speak.

"Hello Ryder, how are you this morning?" She tilted her head to the side and She frowned in the child's mind. This was becoming a problem; the girl would have to learn to act like other children at the very least. Maybe the problem could be passed off as being a part of a Vampyre inheritance come early? It could work as long as no other Vampyre's were present, She decided.

"I'm 'ine," Ryder smiled, growing quickly accustom to his new name. But then, he trusted Rose. "Can we eats peas?"

"Peas?" Rose wrinkled her nose in disgust, "oh you mean 'please'?" Ryder nodded.

"That what I says." He insisted, sitting up in the cot at last.

"'I said' Ryder, really." She stood up, and in an instant an asp was curled around the cot bars and slipping easily out of the children's prison. Rose smiled at Ryder when she changed back, her pink nightdress fluttered around her small ankles as she skipped towards the door. "SURI!" He cried and clapped her hands when the Elf appeared. "Dress us."

The House Elf bowed and clicked her fingers. Rose's nightdress vanished and in it's place was another antique dress. 'She' liked them, they reminded Her of Her own childhood clothing. This dress was a familiar shade of blue and She smiled at the colour. The Noble and Studious House of Ravenclaw truly had a wonderful shade of blue representing it. There was a white silk ribbon, three inches wide that tied around Rose's upper body, starting at the waist and ending just under where her breasts would bud in some years time. It was knotted at the back in the Geisha fashion, so the ribbon was folded and hung down Rose's back like a waterfall.

Rose slipped her feet into a pair of flat Ravenclaw blue shoes with small white bows on the heels as Suri undressed Ryder. Ryder ended up in a pair of brown doeskin breeches that ended just below the knees and were tied with a small black ribbon on either leg. Black stockings covered the calves of his legs and tucked under the breeches. He had a black silk shirt on, with a waistcoat of doeskin, and a black silk handkerchief was folded and placed in the breast pocket.

All in all, Ryder looked very much the middle ages gentleman's child. 'She' smiled at the sight, after all these years she still hadn't stopped feeling nostalgic. Ryder – her Harry – looked so much like her own eldest Son, before his untimely death. Maybe that was why She was so determined to save him: because She couldn't save Her own child?

"Look stupid," Ryder grumbled pulling the handkerchief out of his waistcoat pocket.

"You look like a dolly!" Rose giggled childishly. Ryder pouted, and Suri refitted the handkerchief.

Ryder's feet were forced, by Suri, into a pair of flat black slipper-type shoes, which looked like they had jumped straight out of pre-revolution France. The golden buckle set the doeskin off nicely, She decided. She urged Rose to lead them to breakfast and to hurry her parents on the issue of the Blood-Oath Ceremony. It had to be performed before the Malfoy's arrived.

XXX

The family gathered in the dungeon. It hadn't been hard to find a sacrifice for the Fates. There were plenty of foolish people who would happily step into a dark alley with you for the right incentive. Unfortunately, they needed someone a little purer than a prostitute for the Blood-Oath; but that hadn't posed much more of a problem. A few faked tears were all it took to get some poor, unfortunate, kind woman to come running and help Rose find her 'lost' parents.

The same woman was now bound and gagged in the centre of the family members. She was stripped naked, spread eagle. Her feet nailed to the floor with nails almost as long as Ryder's arms and as thick as his finger. Her hands were nailed similarly, and she released muffled cries of pain through her knickers that had been stuffed in her mouth, when Atticus got annoyed at the sound of her voice.

A deep purple rose had been placed on her chest, its head resting in the valley between her breasts. A black candle and a white candle stood side by side in the 'V' of her thighs. A wicked sharp dagger its pommel embedded with rubies covered her belly button with the tip of the blade resting in her pubic hair. She whimpered in fear as Atticus moved forward, a paintbrush in his hand. The end of the brush was congealed with blood, a fresh layer having been spread over the bristles. First he had used his own blood, then Violets, and then Rose's and now he needed Ryder's.

The blood had been used to draw runes on the sacrifice's skin; runes for love, protection, happiness, loyalty, healing, faith, and family covered the woman's skin. There was one rune left and Violet picked the dagger up from the woman's abdomen and moved to press the knifepoint on Ryder's left wrist. With a small shriek, blood began to well up around the blade and trail down Ryder's hand. Violet lay the knife back down, and Atticus swirled the brush head around on the wound collecting as much of the blood as he could.

Atticus began to trace the lines to create the rune for acceptance – the rune most commonly used during a blood adoption – on the woman's forehead. He lay the brush down on the floor and took up the dagger again. He retraced the lines, carving them into her flesh as she screamed through the gag. Tears began to spill down her cheeks, smudging the rune for loyalty that was painted on her left cheek.

Atticus snarled and slapped her hard, before repainting it with his own blood.

Then he began to chant in Romanian, "Lord of All, God and Goddess of Creation, Creator of Being and Bringer of Death, hear my plea. I offer this mortal forth, let her be your bounty, your possession until a more favourable offering is offered. In exchange bind this male child, Harry Potter to me, make him my kit, of my get. In exchange for his life I offer the life of the mortal woman. The Sacrifice upon my alter is yours Holy One, most Evil One, for your exalted pleasures. By blood and breath I claim Ryder Ravyn Hammond."

When he finished, he drove the dagger down hard between the woman's eyes. She was dead before she could scream. Atticus waited to see if his offering was successful, and then turned to Ryder. The boy was glowing faintly, the wound on his wrist having healed without a scar, and he was rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Suddenly he shrieked, and then he wailed and he cried and began to claw at his own skin, succeeding in peeling a chunk of it off of his arm before Violet hit him with a stunning spell.

They watched with baited breath as he was transformed before their eyes. What once was Harry Potter with black hair and his Mother's jade green eyes and lightly tanned skin was now deathly pale, his hair an even deeper shade of jet than before and his eyes like Rose's: the colour of the Killing Curse.

His ruby red lips turned down as soon as the stunning spell was lifted and Ryder rubbed his tired eyes again. He opened his mouth and hissed as he cut him lip. Violet gasped, she hadn't realized this would happen. 'She' had thought there might be a chance, but never mentioned it: Violet Hammond liked to pretend there was nothing scarily strange about her only Daughter, so She never spoke to her.

Atticus frowned and clicked his fingers. A House Elf appeared. "Sufi, fetch another." The Lord ordered quietly. Sufi returned moments later with a struggling seven year old in his arms.

"MOTHER!" The boy screamed when he caught sight of the dead woman. Atticus pulled the boy away from the House Elf, which disappeared with a 'pop', and threw the child towards Ryder.

Ryder looked up, Avada green eyes wide with confusion, and wonder; seeing things for the first time with the eyes of a Vampyre. His attention turned to the sobbing boy at his feet, the seven year old moved to hit him and Ryder didn't duck. The fist met Ryder's mouth with a 'crack' but the one year old didn't cry out. It hadn't hurt, not much, not really. The seven year old was cradling a swollen fist though.

Ryder moved forward and the other boy seemed to freeze up. Before the boy could run, Atticus' hand was fisted in his hair and Ryder's mouth was sucking harshly on his neck. The fangs broke the skin and with a tortured groan the boys life began to leave him, as Ryder feasted for the first time.

Half alive the child dropped to the floor, while Violet proudly pulled her Son away. Rose moved forward to finish the victim, her eyes flashing from Avada green to Ravenclaw blue for a moment as 'She' moved Rose's hand lower to cup the crying child's crotch and gave a hard squeeze. He gave a whimper and Rose drank her fill before allowing Her to end the child's suffering. With a quick snap of his neck the boy joined his Mother in death.

Ryder licked him lips, "'m hungry. Want more peas." Rose didn't bother to correct him this time. 'She' summoned a House Elf and had them remove the mess from the floor, which the Elf did quickly before leaving.

"The Malfoy's are on their way," she informed them.

Atticus hummed, "what shall I tell them? About you Milady?"

She turned to face her hosts Father and smiled; a truly terrible sight, "why my Lord Lestrange, tell Lord Malfoy anything you like. If he doesn't like it, I can always kill him."

"As you wish Lady Ravenclaw." He smiled.

She laughed, "Call me Rowena." She left the dungeon, the rest of Rose's family following.

And who ever said Salazar Slytherin was the really evil one?

XXX

The Malfoy family stood on the front porch of Lestrange Manor. Lucius held a bottle of his finest wine in one hand and in his other he carried a bottle of bourbon. Narcissa held Draco as the boy wiggled furiously, wanting to get down. They felt it was rude to try and floo straight in, and instead apparated to the Family's driveway. The butler answered the door with a knowing smile.

"We were expecting you, the young Lady said you'd visit."

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged confused glances. It couldn't have been the woman who answered the door last night, Lucius thought, because she was the Lady of the Manor. And the only other female he had seen was that girl child, who was too young to be referred to as a Lady.

"This way please," Jarvis said. "Your cloaks please?" He held out his hand, taking the outstretched cloak Narcissa gave him, and Draco's baby cloak as well. Lucius kept his. "My name is Jarvis, pleasure to meet you Lord and Lady Malfoy. And your Heir, of course."

"A pleasure," Narcissa answered when her Husband said nothing.

Jarvis led them into a large room further down the corridor that was glowing warmly with the light of a fire. There were two long sofas and two armchairs arranged tastefully around a mahogany coffee table. "Please take a seat, my Lord is on his way."

Jarvis left the room as Lucius sank into one of the armchairs. Narcissa sat on one sofa, with Draco on her lap. She let out a small scream when she turned back to face Lucius. In front of her, where there was no one before she sat now stood a 15-month-old girl in a Ravenclaw blue kimono-style lace dress with a white band around her waist.

"Lady Malfoy, a pleasure." The girl sat on the opposite sofa. She stared at Lucius, lowering her mental barriers so the empathic man was easily able to read her aura. Lucius gasped loudly and tried to cover it with a cough, turning his face away.

"Ah you have met my Daughter I see," Atticus smiled as he entered the room, his Wife on his arm. "This is my Wife, Violet Hammond. That is Rose Robin our Daughter." He looked pointedly at Lucius, purposely only using the two names that began with 'R'. A small boy walked in as Atticus sat down in the second armchair. Violet sat beside Narcissa and began cooing over Draco who was positively preening under the attention. "This is Ryder Ravyn, Rose's twin."

"'Lo," he said as he moved to sit beside his Sister.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Lucius smiled. "You have a lovely family," he complimented.

Atticus laughed, "try living with them. It'll change your mind." Lucius just nodded. The blond man stood and offered the bottles to his host with practised ease.

"As guests we thought it fitting. Think of it as a welcome present."

Atticus looked over the bottle of wine and let out a whistle, "1803?" His eyes brow was raised.

"The Malfoy family have an excellent vineyard, going back generations." Lucius couldn't take his eyes off of Rose even as he spoke to Atticus. "Where are my manners? I am Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Lord of the Cunning and Noble House of Malfoy." He pointed to the blond woman, "This is my Wife, Narcissa of the Most Noble and Honourable House of Black. And this is our Son, Draconais Lucien, Heir apparent."

"I know," Atticus looked at Rose before turning back to Lucius. "My own manners seemed to have abandoned me. I am Atticus Altair Rochairt, Son of Belladonna Lestrange of the Despicable and Affluent House of Lestrange. Son to Leonard Rochairt, current name of Count Vlad Tepes III, Prince of Romania."

Lucius' eyes widened slightly before he masked his surprise with indifference. "Even more of a pleasure then my friend."

"We shall talk in private, follow me, my friend," he used the term in more of a mocking manner than Lucius had. The blond aristocrat stood, and nodded in the women's direction before following the Vampyre Prince out of the room.

They spent the next three hours holed up in Atticus' study on the fourth floor, talking about everything that was important and nothing in particular in turn. Lucius finally worked up the nerve to talk about Rose.

"Your Daughter is- how do I put it? Special." He paused. Atticus said nothing, he didn't defend his family or his honour, he only smiled. "She's different. I'm an empath."

"I know," the dark haired Lord smiled.

"She's not your Daughter. Well, truthfully, she is much more than just your Daughter. If I were to get technical I would state that there were two beings sharing a body. One very old and the other – your child – very young."

"You would be right."

"You know?" Lucius jumped out of his chair in surprise. "You haven't had her exorcised?" Atticus merely smiled again. "Isn't she in danger? The last recorded case caused the host to revert into a mass murdering sociopath."

"The last recorded case, Lord Malfoy. There have been others, I assure you, that have turned out for the better. I know of one other person that suffers – that is a bad word, let's see… a person that is of the same talent, I should say. Not at present, but he was and he will be."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Lucius squeezed the head of his snake cane, dis-attaching it from where it had hung off his belt. It was a nervous habit he had developed since purchasing the cane.

"I shall explain." Atticus poured two glasses of bourbon from the decanter Lucius had gifted him with. "My Daughter is my child, she is young and innocent. She shares her body with another, older, far more dangerous spirit. But it is a fair exchange and my Daughter is in control most of the time. As Rose grows the Lady's presence will diminish further. Once the Lady finds what she is looking for, she will go completely. In return for the use of Rose's body for short periods of time, Rose has received knowledge and information that has been lost for centuries. Information Ryder has received – as her twin – by default.

"The Lady is dangerous, but only because of her need for revenge. Her need to protect Ryder stems from an incident she suffered in her mortal life. Her Husband and Son were murdered, her Daughter survived of course. She is in essence Ryder's guardian angel. Rose is the perfect vessel, as the Daughter of the Lady's Heir. Rose is her last tie to her surviving Daughter, the one child she managed to save."

"But who is this 'Lady'?"

"Violet Hammond is the Heir of Ravenclaw," Atticus said taking a sip of his bourbon. "Very good, very good," he muttered drinking more.

Lucius stayed silent, digesting the information. From what he remembered of his History of Magic lessons, Ravenclaw had disappeared from the face of the earth after Slytherin's death. A boy was found dead beside the man – everyone assumed the child had been murdered by Slytherin. There was rumour of a girl having been seen in the area, but that a dark haired woman had kidnapped her – Ravenclaw.

"I thought- but didn't Slytherin… it couldn't be!" Lucius muttered.

"I assure you, my Husband did not murder our Son," Rose smiled. Lucius jumped out of his seat in fright as the girl just appeared before him. Out of thin air without the accompanying sound of apparation or a Portkey.

Lucius slapped his hand on his thigh, "of course. The other joint spirit, the other person like you, is Salazar Slytherin! He'd have to share a body too. Would the boy be your hosts age?"

"Older," She answered, Rowena. Her Ravenclaw blue eyes flashed as she glared at the floor, "I did what I had to do to protect Ryder. He will understand. In time he will thank me." She left the room, this time by using the door. The fact that she skipped through the threshold humming indicated that the girl child was back in control of her body.

"That was," he started.

"Interesting? Informative? Down right weird?"

"All of the above I believe." Lucius gave a sneer before downing what was left in his glass, and holding it out for a refill.

"There is one more matter of business I wish to converse about," Atticus poured the refills and leant back in his chair.

"Fear not my friend, I shall not speak a word of it."

"Your discretion was never in question Lucius." He rubbed his chin. "Your Son, has he been promised to any one? In marriage?"

"No. Your Daughter?" Lucius sounded rather worried.

"Of course not, she has a soul mate with Salazar's host. I meant Ryder."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "they would make a fetching couple I admit. But Draco might not like boys."

"He will, trust me." Lucius gave a small cough, which prompted Atticus to explain. "My Wife, as Heir of Ravenclaw is a Seer. She Saw our Sons together, but they were impeded by an unbreakable marriage contract between your Son and a Miss Parkinson. This conversation was started with the intention to spare both boys that particular hardship."

"If what she Saw was to be, then by all means." Lucius sipped his bourbon. "Draw up the contract and I'll have my lawyer look over it before I sign it."

"Agreeable." Atticus held his hand out for Lucius to shake. "It will be interesting having you as an-" he paused.

"Ally?" Lucius suggested.

"An alliance between the Malfoy and Lestrange families is a thing to fear. No, I shall call you my friend."

"Agreeable," Lucius smirked and stood. A House Elf cleared the empty glasses before the men had left the room.

They met their wives in the conservatory, over looking the sun setting. Draco was sitting on the ground playing with one of Rose's toys and staring at Ryder from the corner of his eyes. Lucius read his Son's aura and then Ryder's and smiled. Their souls were very compatible as was their magic. A marriage between them would be for the best, he thought.

"We shall speak soon," Violet smiled hugging Narcissa. She faced Lucius; "you should try and appease the Minister before he demands your arrest. Soon, before nothing you do can change his mind."

The blond nodded and shook Atticus' hand. Narcissa picked up Draco, who began to wail and demand to be put on the ground so he could play with the other boy. Ryder just glared daggers at the blond's Mother. "Who's that?" She asked curiously as she spotted a young man walking stiffly towards the servants entrance of the Manor accompanied by Jarvis.

"Dinner," Violet grinned. Narcissa shuddered but kept her mouth shut. Holding Draco more tightly she muttered goodbye and apparated home. Lucius rolled his eyes in apology and followed. The Hammond family entered their home once again, and prepared for dinner. All except Rose.

Rose had felt sorry for Rowena and allowed Her to keep her body for the night. Rowena sat under a large oak tree in the deepest part of the forest that surrounded the Lestrange side of the acreage. She leant against the bark smiling softly as she felt the hardened wood bite into the soft flesh of her back. Her dress snagged and tore once as she wiggled into a new position. Her legs were tucked against her chest and under her chin. Rose looked so much older than she was when Rowena was in control.

"My love," She whispered to the night, "it was for the best. But I will get you back, even if I have to bathe the world in the blood of your killer and his kit. You will be mine in death, together forever." She snarled softly, her anger mutating the beautiful childlike face of her host, into one of evil incarnate. Her vow was heard by the Fates themselves and they snarled back at her.

Her love awaited.

XXX

Thanks for reading. I hope you keep reviewing…

More tests Tuesday oh joy!

I'm being different. Why have ANOTHER evil-Salazar fiction when I can have an evil-different founder?

More about Rowena and Salazar next chapter. Bet you CAN guess who Salazar's host is, it's kind of obvious. I also have a way to make Ryder neutral without killing Voldemort, aren't I a genius!! So Neutral-Ryder it is ok?

Also, someone said something I thought I should clear up. My plot lines are like my handwriting, they change. Regularly. So no, I am not a group of writers. My name is my actually name, not a group name. I am Aisling. Just so you know.

Bye then x