Chapter 3: Daughter of Darkness

Teddy was coming at her full pelt, quaffle held securely under one arm. Isabella loosened the grip on her broom handle. She needed to be prepared for his strike. She had to be able to change direction swiftly as her opponent was known for changing his throw in the last second of his charge. He aimed for the left hoop, but then twirled on his broom and threw the quaffle at the right one. For a split second she thought it would pass her by, but then her fingers curled slowly around it. She let her body follow the motion as her entire form curled around the quaffle until she was hanging upside down from her broom. At first she didn't know what had happened. Then she smiled triumphantly.

"Damn it!" Teddy swore. "How in the blazes did you do that?"

"Teddy, I'm hanging upside down." she clambered back up the right way. "Catch." she threw him the quaffle as they landed on the grass below.

"Isabella, have you told Harry and Ginny about the incident yet?" he asked as delicately as he could.

"No," her face darkened as she remembered the trance-like state, the fact she wasn't in control of her own body and mind. Almost as if someone had been controlling her actions. "I'm not really sure I want to."

"Hey, it's okay," he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. "It's your turn to go out with Harry tonight, so you can ask him in private." You know, why he never told you you were a parselmouth. I know it's been bothering you."

She sighed. It actually wasn't a bad idea. Adhering to Potter family tradition, to keep the children from getting too mischievous during the summer and getting into each other's hair, Harry would take out each child individually for a little outing. Yesterday it had been Severus's turn; tonight it was Isabella's.

"Maybe I shall..." she mused.

Before Teddy could think of something comforting to say, Severus barged through the door into the backyard, jumping up and down ecstatically. He grabbed Teddy by the sleeve.

"James says you can do a duck-face, a proper duck-face, not like the weird pictures of muggles looking ridiculous trying to squint and puff out their lips." he said.

The methamorphmagus glanced sideways at Isabella who rolled her eyes dramatically, their previous conversation momentarily forgotten. "Oh, all right then," he said, making the front of his face elongate and turn a bright yellow. It truly did look like some hideous creature with Teddy's head and a giant duck's face. Severus watched the transformation and clapped gleefully.

"That was amazing!" he squealed and happily embraced his older adoptive sibling around the waist. Isabella had to stifle a laugh as Teddy tensed at the unexpected display of affection, his whole body becoming rigid. As his hair turned from its ordinary blue to an embarrassed, perturbed looking fuchsia, she finally had it and began laughing uncontrollably. If looks could kill, she would have died a hundred painful deaths that moment, so fierce was the glare he shot at her.

Harry arrived home early that afternoon to find his family in various stages of discord. So, plainly put, everything was normal. A flowery scent led him to the washroom, where the children's school robes had been hung out to dry, Isabella's stark green and silver Slytherin tie standing out among the Gryffindor gold and red of the rest. The sight reminding him of her made him turn around in search of her. He had promised to take her to a magic cloak shop, where se could choose a speed-enhancing cloak to her liking. Just as he was about to place his foot on the creaking stair leading to the witch's room a warm pulsing sensation around his wrist made him stop. It was his auror wristband, a strap of dragon hide with clear oracle-glass that pulsed every time there was a task set out for him. Sighing, he read the lines of script curling their way beneath the glass. Apparently the Board of Aurors had received valuable information about gargoyle fang smugglers attempting to make a breakthrough that night. Harry, as the closest off-duty auror was to intervene. Nothing special or overly difficult, just a bit of a nuisance to settle. He'd have to tell Isabella.

"Ugh, come on. They can't be serious," the young girl in question moaned after being told the situation. A frown decorated her brow as she handed James a quill and ink (he was fixated on writing down the best ways to prank his professors when he got back to school).

"Unfortunately, they can. It's no big deal," he reassured. "Just some minor smugglers, however it would be better if the goods weren't brought into England."

"I know, I know," she said in that condescending tone so typical for teenagers. "Gargoyle fangs. We don't want another incident like those Scottish wizards who started growing leathery patches of skin after accidentally inhaling some fang powder. I'm just bummed it has to be on my day. Why couldn't it happen to James?"

"Hey!" the boy raised his head to stick his tongue out at her.

"I'm sorry, but what can I do about it?" Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Considering it's just a rutine patrol and probably nothing too dangerous you could take her with you," Ginny offered, sauntering into the room, obviously having overheard the entire conversation.

"It's still too risky, she's only fifteen - " the husband began but was cut off.

"Says the man who slew a basilisk at twelve," she countered. "You know she's more than capable of standing her ground against a few petty criminals who never even finished school. After all, it was you who trained her in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Well..." his resolve began to waver. "In that case, I don't see why not."

"Ginny," Isabella said. "Have I ever mentioned you're my favourite."

In response she gave an amused chuckle.

Isabella was walking alongside Harry on the pavement, the bright streetlamps illuminating their way. Truth be told, she had always wanted to accompany Harry on one of his auror missions, but the opportunity had never presented itself before. Speaking of missed opportunities...

"Harry, why didn't you ever tell me I'm a Parselmouth?"

His head snapped back, confusion marring his features. "Who told you that?"

"No one," she stepped briskly to keep up with her guardian. "I remembered the snake, Lucy."

"Well, me and Ginny, we wanted to tell you, but it was around the time you were upset about learning your birth parents were Death Eaters. We didn't want to add salt to the wound." he turned and stopped in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You know it doesn't matter, right? After all, I'm a Parselmouth and I'm not so bad, am I?"

Isabella smiled, humor glinting in her eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't know about that." He rolled her eyes at her, making her smile wider. "Thank you, Harry," she added.

The evening was relatively warm as the two made their way down the drab and dreary Nocturn Alley. The girl stuffed her hand into the pockets of her fake leather jacket. Harry was wearing his long auror coat, with more pockets than he cared to count. It was a bit worn and the fabric faded, but it was and invaluable asset to the job. He had spells, jinxes, hexes and potions secreted in every nook and cranny and more than once these objects had saved his life. The only thing he didn't have with him was, surprisingly, his wand. Over the years he had become so proficient in wandless magic he no longer needed it. Plus, he was a bit paranoid it would break... again. They were about to turn a corner when Harry heard the sound of unloading crates. He grabbed Isabella and led her behind the wall of a nearby house. He placed a finger to his lips and she nodded in agreement.

"Wand at the ready," he whispered. "We can get to the other side of the street through this house and surprise them." he drew the outline of a door on the wall. Instantly it turned into a curtain-like door and they walked inside. On the other side of the room he and Isa had just walked into, was a large grimy window. He crouched next to it and began assessing the situation. In the faint sheen of a small magic fire he could count five smugglers all together. Three of them were lean wizards with sullen eyes and their wand out, unloading and checking the contents of about a dozen crates. The other two members of the party were two large, bored looking brutes, standing with arms folded. Obviously some hired muscle to discourage anybody from coming closer. So far no major threats. The auror, with some decisive hand gestures, explained his plan of attack to his adopted daughter, at which she smiled with excitement. This was gong to be good.

One of the two brutes yawned so widely he almost dislocated his jaw. He had no idea why his employer had bothered hiring him. Quite evidently, there weren't any threats. He even considered dozing off for a few moments, when he heard the sound of quarrelling. Signaling for the rest of the party to be silent, he watched as two people came from behind a neighboring house. Judging by their tone and volume of speech they were having a heated argument.

"How was I supposed to know!" the shorter of the two - a young girl - screamed.

"Well, if you had listened to what I had been trying to tell you, we would never have ended up in the mess we're in!" the other - a man - yelled back.

The girl was about to retaliate again, when she and her partner in argument found themselves surrounded by the five smugglers.

"I'm afraid you'll have t come with us," one of the lean men said, pointing his wand threateningly at them.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Harry said, briefly flashing his auror wristband.

"The guy's an auror! We've been busted!" he worked frantically to come up with a suitable spell.

Before he could do anything, however, Harry dug deep into his pockets. "Now!"

Isabella knew that was her signal to step back and cover her eyes as he unleashed a powerful compound of Tibetan Light. Three of the men, two wizards and one brute, went down immediately as the stark burning white light scorched their eyes. The other two had recoiled, but were regaining their composure. The bigger of the two tried to grab Harry from behind, but Isabella saw him and with a practiced flick of her wand and uttered spell sent him flying to the other side of the street, where he collapsed against a wall.

Now completely alone, the last smuggler looked about ready to faint; his face was as white as chalk. "Damn you! Don't come any closer!" he spat.

The auror ignored him. "You're under arrest."

Fear spread across his face, but quickly changed to a malicious contentment as he grabbed a handful of powdered gargoyle fangs. With great force he threw them at the ground, where they instantly lifted as a vaporous buzzing, shimmering black powder. Like a nest of hornets the powder swooped in to attack Harry, who screamed as he tried to conjure it away. The smuggler backed away, hiding behind a shied of mandrake leaves.

For a second, the black flying powder blinded Isabella. Then for some unforeseeable reason it began to keep its distance from her. She saw the smuggler running away and ran to intercept him.

Hearing footsteps behind him, the criminal turned, only to find the girl from before, unscathed by the powder. "W-what are you?" he asked, trembling.

"I'm a girl not a thing and would appreciate to be known as such," she snorted.

"The fangs don't affect you;" he muttered in disbelief. "That can only mean there's Dark Magic in you. Magic even darker than the fangs."

Were it any other day, Isabella would have recoiled at the insinuation she possessed the Dark Arts. However, in that moment she felt so at home with her darkness, she embraced it. Somehow she knew exactly what to do. With a raised hand she commanded the flying powder past the mandrake leaf shield and around her opponent's throat, choking him. Spasm shook his entire body as he clawed for survival and she... enjoyed watching it. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to kill him, but the horror of the thought shocked her back to her senses. What had she almost done? What had she been thinking? Why did if feel so right? She wanted to cry out, but her voice caught in her throat. Almost as if sensing her distress, all of the gargoyle fang powder stopped buzzing and lay on the tiled street, immobile.

"Daughter of Darkness, I salute you," the smuggler managed to choke out.

She turned and in anger screamed: "Patrificus totalus."

"Looks like we caught all of them after all," Harry appeared behind her. His coat was torn across his right shoulder and the skin beneath was black and crinkled. He tried not to show it, but it hurt him terribly. "Come on, let's go home. The Board will be picking them up shortly."

At home Ginny started a frenzy her mother would have been proud of upon seeing Harry's injury. He tried to calm her down and told her which ingredients she needed to bring for him to heal himself. Once he had realized his lack of healing prowess was a major fault in his education, he had studied fervently for a great number of years. Whatever the case, he was not the slightest worried about himself. He was concerned about Isabella. The fact the powder hadn't harmed her, despite the fact she had no idea how to defend herself against it. And all the talk about Parselmouths. He could sense a darkness brewing inside her. Could it be happening already?