So, the set-up I'm planning for the following chapters follows this one - flashback to her childhood with her father - Yaxley trying to carry out his orders in the "present day" timeline for want of a better phrase - flashback to how Lucilla got herself in this mess in the first place. If it's too confusing let me know :) Also I'm quite keen to know how in character I managed to write Voldemort so if you've got the time ... :)

1 November 1980

"Father! Father, look!"

Yaxley frowned in irritation as he tried to keep his attentions focused on the headlines of the Daily Prophet, which he'd been trying to make time to read all morning. "Not right now."

"Look! You're going to miss it!" she complained.

"Not now, Lucy!" he repeated.

The little girl frowned and the small daisy that had been floating seemingly by itself in the air fell to the floor. Lucilla Margaret Yaxley had her father's blonde hair, hers curled and settled just past her shoulders. She also had her father's temper. Her dark chocolate eyes focused angrily on the mug in her father's hand, which abruptly shattered. Jumping to his feet as hot liquid splashed down him, Yaxley let out a howl of anger and looked up to see his daughter had already disappeared.

30 March 1996

His mouth twisted in distaste, the corners curling into a twisted sneer as he took in the cowering man before him. How a man could allow one girl to make him appear so vulnerable was beyond his comprehension: it disgusted him. Yet still the servant grovelled.

"My Lord, please, I beg of you!" the pathetic moan came from deep inside Yaxley, some tortured and broken part of his soul that was finally coming to the surface in the face of his deepest horror. "Please… do not ask this of me!"

He could not bring himself to look up into those terrifying red eyes, at this moment of sheer fear but he knew what was coming a split second before it happened, allowing time to steal himself against the agony that shortly coursed through his body.

"You question my orders, Yaxley?" came the hiss in reply as he lifted the curse at last.

"No, my Lord!" he replied immediately, an involuntary sob catching in his throat. "But I cannot …"

"Then perhaps you would prefer someone else carry them out?" A horrible smirk played across his pale face. "Greyback, for instance, I hear he is very keen."

Yaxley let out an anguished gasp, yet his master continued, contempt radiating from him as he got to his feet, wand drawn.

"Or I could do the job myself… would that be more your preference?"

"No, My Lord," he whispered, his eyes still downcast.

"Then do what needs to be done. Leave me."

Yaxley got to his feet, still bowing low to avoid eye contact more than a sign of respect, and backed out of the ornately furnished room.

"What have I done?" he moaned, burying his head in his hands.

31 July 1994

Lucy stared, unsatisfied, into the mirror and again tried to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles in her perfectly ironed cloak. Her fingers traced the familiar serpentine 'S' on her house crest before moving along to the new gleaming Prefect badge. In her excitement to begin the new school year she'd tried on her new uniform and begun organising her books already. Her lips curved upwards slightly, for once she was happy with her counterpart staring back at her in the mirror. Usually the complaint that her face was too long, too thin, too pale followed, or that her nose was too crooked, her hair too messy.

"It's the feeling of power," came the soft hiss, she dreaded and was all too familiar with as of late.

She averted her gaze, as her father and a painful episode where she had forgotten his advice had taught her, and said nothing in reply as the man who ruled their lives made his way into the room. As if he owned the place, which in a way she thought bitterly, he of course did. She moved towards her bed where her trunk lay open and half packed and began to busy herself with sorting through again.

"My father is not here," she said managing to keep her voice even as she placed her potions textbook carefully in her trunk.

"I am not here to see him," the Dark Lord replied, a faint hint of amusement tingeing his words. Nagini slithered past Lucy's feet, causing her to shiver with fear as the huge creature curled around her ankles simultaneously trapping her in the room and sending her mind into a wild panic. Her fear of snakes was a running joke in the Slytherin common room and had resulted in endless pranks which now meant she thoroughly checked her bed before getting into it. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing as the next words were spoken in rough hisses.

"I am here to see you, Lucilla."

She stammered her reply out in English, now a far cry from the confident Slytherin prefect who had stood before her mirror proudly. "What is it you want from me?"

Nagini hissed suddenly, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the girl caught in her coils. Lucy could feel the blood pounding in her ears, her heart beat was so loud she was sure he could hear it and she was starting to sweat. Such was her terror that she didn't even notice he had been walking toward her until she felt his cold hand grip her chin and force her head upwards.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Slowly, her dark eyes met his red ones and she began to tremble at the sight of the man who had given her nightmares as a child. His eyes stared into hers, as if trying to read into her soul.

"You speak the language of snakes, yet you fear them so," he said. "Do you fear me, Lucilla?"

Her mind screamed out for her father, she was sure these were going to be the last moments of her life. He chuckled and gripped her chin harder, enjoying the terror radiating from her.

"Your father cannot help you here. Tell me, Lucilla, do you fear me?"

"Yes," she whimpered and finally he released her, as did Nagini.

"Good girl." He turned on his heel and stalked toward the open bedroom door. "Your lessons will begin tomorrow."

"My lessons?" she repeated but he had already disappeared. She collapsed onto her bed and wept into her hands. What was happening to her?