A/N: Thanks magic4ever, DamonSalvatoreLover, taco-tuesday, Amanda2308, Maddevillechilde, and Callisto for reviewing chapter three! Your feedback is greatly appreciated.

Chapter Four: Christmas

Rayna was awoken late in the night as a prefect shook her furiously, without a doubt loathing her the same way everyone else did as she looked down at her with disdain etched in her features. She was instructed to head down to the common room, where Snape would be there to escort her out. Though Rayna had no idea what the whole ordeal was about, she knew it wouldn't be anything good; the last time she was taken out of her dorm this late she had been given detention with Snape for weeks after hurting Pansy.

"Riddle," Snape said simply, his voice as cold and deep as ever, "come with me."

"What for Professor," Rayna asked curiously, her tone as soft as she could manage.

Snape didn't answer, opting instead to pick up pace as he lead her hastily down the castle's hallways and over to the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Rayna had only been there a few times before, but she knew enough to realize that in order to get through they needed a password and that the spiral staircase would rise to take them up to the Headmaster's quarters. What she didn't understand was why she was being taken to see the Headmaster so late at night; though she knew it must have been something terrible, she couldn't figure out what.

Suddenly fear gripped her; she thought back to the mysterious tiara she had taken from the Room of Requirement several weeks ago while trying to attend the Dumbledore's Army meeting. She realized that, if anything, that had to be why she was in so much trouble. Rayna felt her stomach coil into a huge knot and her breath became caught in her throat; the truth is, she had no idea why she even kept it –it wasn't that she saw value in it, though she knew it had to be; instead it was like something had been telling her to keep it with her, like she had a certain connection to the strange magical artifact that urged her to take it. For whatever reason, she kept it hidden within her trunk beneath her bed, safe and forever within her reach.

When Dumbledore's office finally came into view she saw several other people within the room eagerly awaiting the next bit of information. She saw all of the Weasley's, Harry, McGonagall and Dumbledore all frantically chatting though they appeared to all have just gotten out of bed. Snape seemed to be the only one of them properly dressed, his long billowing robes and alert expression extremely unlike the pajamas and tired, worried expressions of the rooms other inhabitants. The second Snape brought Rayna in he walked back out of the room without another word.

Dumbledore instructed McGonagall to prepare a portkey for the Weasley's, who followed after her as they left the room, again leaving Rayna behind in their wake. She looked over at Ginny, who failed miserably to meet her eye contact, her expression growing almost fearful as Rayna stared back at her, her gaze seemingly glued to the floor in front of her before she too made her way out the door.

"Your current guardian, Arthur Weasley, was found badly injured tonight within the ministry," Dumbledore said slowly, his bright blue eyes filled with concern and sympathy.

Rayna sighed, though it was more out of relief than concern as she realized that everyone was still ignorant of her taking what she was beginning to suspect to be Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem. Dumbledore paused for a moment, as though he had been carefully assessing her every movement and gesture before finally continuing on.

"Fortunately, he has been found and taken to St. Mungo's."

"That isn't why you called me here," Rayna said simply, forcing herself to maintain perfect composure.

"Do you know how we came to find out about Arthur's situation?" Dumbledore asked, leaning forward slightly as his eyes seemed to bore into her.

"No sir," Rayna replied calmly, her interest peaked.

"Harry saw it in a dream," Dumbledore replied, causing Rayna's heart to sink, terrified that her friends had informed him of her similar circumstance, "you are aware of the connection between Harry and Voldemort, I fear that like Harry you have a similar connection-"

"No," Rayna snapped, catching him off-guard, "There is no connection between my father and me. I'm not Harry, so don't even think about putting me into some life-threatening situation just to save your own skin. Whatever Ginny told you, she doesn't understand."

"Your father never trusted me either," Dumbledore continued softly, "and I dare say I never truly trusted him."

"Stop comparing me to him." Rayna replied coldly.

"Rayna, I'm only trying to help you," Dumbledore continued, "Professor Snape can teach you occlumency, you can block him out of your mind."

"I don't need your help," Rayna replied calmly, her tone suggesting a growing impatience, "if you don't mind, I would like to return to bed."

"I thought you might wish to see Arthur," Dumbledore continued as if challenging her, "he is your current guardian after all."

"Current guardian, sir," Rayna replied with disinterest before adding, "he isn't my permanent guardian and I hardly expect it to last any longer than a few more months. Soon enough I'll be back in the orphanage and you'll have one more thing to compare me to my father."

"Very well then," Dumbledore said simply, his eyes lighting with a sudden interest, "you may go back to bed."

Rayna gave a brief nod before turning and heading out the door, eager to get back to her dorm so she wasn't completely zonked by the time she went to class the next morning. It seemed to take forever to navigate through the vast corridors of the castle, seeing only from the faint glow of the illuminated tip of her wand as she zipped past a multitude of paintings, statues and stone. She was fast approaching the dungeons, but something made her stop in her tracks –a faint noise that sounded entirely too similar to the sinister hissing sound she had heard coming from the diadem.

"Rayna," the voice hissed softly.

"Yes?" Rayna replied subconsciously, her voice cracking slightly as she trembled.

For a moment nothing happened, the voice had eluded her, yet the unnerving air that she felt consume her was ever more present. In that moment her dreams became reality –her father and the connection she knew she had was no longer a distant improbability, but a real threat. It was that moment she realized that she couldn't stay on the verge of both sides, remaining neutral and concealing her feelings of doubt from the light. Her mind felt cloudy, shrouded with doubt and resentment as she thought about the stress of such a decision.

"I will see you soon Rayna," the voice said softly –its voice so cold it made the hair on her neck stand on end as it resonated throughout her very mind, "you've already made your decision."

Rayna felt herself tense up as the reality of his words hit her –had she already made her decision? She didn't know, she was conflicted between what she wanted and what she had been taught was the right thing to do. Too often she was told that her father and all that Lord Voldemort had done was an abomination –the darkest and most horrific of acts- yet she hadn't ever truly seen the wrong in it for herself. The way she saw it, the order and the death eaters were just based on point of view –after all, she never really saw solace in the light.

"There is no good or evil, Rayna, there is only power and those too weak to seek it…" the voice continued, trailing off as it seemed to echo throughout the corridor.

Despite what the world had always told her, Rayna felt solace in her father's words. She sighed, letting out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding as she relaxed her body; she soon felt his presence leave her and she returned to the same passive state she was in before she had heard the sinister hissing noise. Continuing throughout the corridor, Rayna walked back to her dorm, heading off to bed in the dead of night.

…

It wasn't long before Rayna was on the train from Hogwarts heading back to spend Christmas with the Weasley's. Though she wasn't overly keen on the idea, Dumbledore and the others insisted that she would be both welcome and encouraged to act as one of their own; despite knowing that most of it was just a façade, and that they would never really trust in her, she felt some comfort in knowing that they were at least trying. Weeks passed by and she heard nothing from her father; she encountered no strange voices or outlandish dreams, yet his presence seemed to linger within her like a disease. She found herself pondering it constantly –the decision she would eventually have to make and the consequences of what her decision would be.

When she arrived at her destination she was ultimately shocked; rather than bringing her to the familiar lopsided and homely house the Weasley's occupied, she was standing in front of a wide stretch of muggle houses. Two mailboxes stood in front of her, and she looked down to see that though there was a house number 11 and 13, there was no mailbox labeled 12. She looked up and saw that it was the same with the numbers on the houses. She turned, staring over at Remus Lupin, who had been the one to accompany her there, though he just tapped his foot on the ground clearly three times, a lingering pause resonating between each stomp. Between the two houses, another house wedged its way into view, pushing the other two in the opposite direction, though the muggles inside didn't appear to notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Number 12, Grimmauld place," Remus said simply, walking forward into the house before adding, quite reluctantly, "headquarters for the order."

Rayna nodded, stepping inside to find it as unlike she would have expected as possible; for being the headquarters of the order of the phoenix, it was as dark and dreary as something she would expect from a death eater. Inside she could hear the soft drone of several people speaking darkly; she was greeted by Mrs. Weasley, who, despite Rayna's heritage, had always been more civil to her than anyone else she had ever known. A homely woman with red hair as bright as her several kids, she placed her hand gingerly on Rayna's shoulder, smiling back at her as she addressed her.

"The others are upstairs," Mrs. Weasley said firmly, looking over at the decrepit looking staircase to their left, "I've just put on dinner; I'll call you down when it's ready."

"Thank you," Rayna said calmly, forcing a smile back at her before turning to head upstairs as instructed.

Rayna felt the same anger she felt back when she had first learned about her friends and their betrayal to Dumbledore; though time had passed since that night, the memory was fresh in her mind. She wandered up the steps of the house, pausing momentarily to examine the strange jars and artifacts that lined the shelves within the walls. Her lips curled into a sinister smirk as she pondered her friends demise –getting back at them for breaking her trust. She could feel her sanity slipping, she was becoming more and more like that which she told herself constantly to suppress –she was no longer the Rayna who fit in so well with her Gryffindor friends, she was herself –the spitting image of her father in so many ways.

"Rayna-" Hermione said suddenly as Rayna walked into the room.

Sitting down idly before a small fire, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were all chatting and mingling amongst themselves. This was the kind of thing she was once used to –once even enjoyed. But now it just felt awkward and unnatural, like she wasn't meant to be there after all. She felt like a death eater listening in on the order –she wasn't to be trusted, and her own trust was not to be taken seriously. The four of them quickly shut up as they registered her appearance, without a doubt curious as to what would soon go down; they all recognized that someone had betrayed her, the question was who.

"Save it Hermione," Rayna said coldly, "I could beat around the bush, but I won't –I'll be brash, like a Gryffindor."

"What are you talking about?" Ron said rudely, slowly revealing his contempt for her far quicker than the other three had been.

"I trusted you two," Rayna said, ignoring him as she turned toward Ginny and Hermione, a silence resonating throughout the room, "You know how I feel about Dumbledore."

"It's irrational Rayna," Hermione said desperately, "when I heard Arthur was injured –and that Harry had seen it in a dream, I just thought that –well, Dumbledore would gain something from knowing."

"You were still sleeping, you couldn't have told him." Rayna said simply, turning toward Ginny, "I already know it was you."

"My father was dying!" Ginny said defensively, "You have no idea what it's like! I would have given any information that would have helped my dad!"

"Don't I?" Rayna shot back, her lips curling into an involuntary twisted smirk, "My father has died several times, if anyone understands, I should."

For a moment silence ensued; no one said anything as they registered Rayna's sudden dark humor and twisted expression. It was so unlike the Rayna they knew, so similar to her father that it was almost frightening as she stared back at him. They could feel the change within her, perhaps more than she could herself.

"That really isn't funny," Hermione said sternly, her mouth forming a thin line as she looked back at her gravely.

"Humor is relative," Rayna said, laughing a high, cold laugh that seemed to resonate throughout the room as though ten Rayna's were laughing at once; Ginny and Harry adopted horrified looks, though Rayna could not stop laughing.

"You're right," Rayna finally said, molding her face into an impassive expression that revealed nothing, "I don't know what came over me, I just… I feel terrible that I put my trust in you and you betrayed that."

No one knew what to say, what they had just witnessed and what Rayna was now saying were so contradictory that it was nearly impossible to decipher her actions and intentions. She didn't quite understand what had compelled her to make up with her friends and let the conflict go, but she found herself apologizing and returning back to her usual demeanor, much to the relief of her friends. One thing, however, was certain; she would forgive, but she would never forget –they would eventually pay for their betrayal, no matter how trivial the matter may have appeared.

"No," Ginny replied, her expression growing sympathetic and regretful, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I hope you can understand."

"Of course," Rayna said sweetly, her smile becoming more genuine and charming as she bit back her sinister smirk, "you were only doing it to protect Arthur, I'm as glad as you are that he's back safe and well."

Ginny beamed along with the others, the only one that still seemed skeptical of her was Ron, though Hermione and Harry held looks of a bit-back reluctance toward her. Rayna found herself determined to win back the trust of her friends, no matter what the means of doing so entitled; she would ensure things were back to their former glory.

…

When the rest of the house had gone to bed, Rayna sat awake, staring up idly at the ceiling above her bed as she remained deep in thought. She played her dreams over in her head, lingering on every small detail as she searched for similarities, signs and differences. Several things stuck out to her, though none of them seemed to make any sense to her. In every dream she had, she met her father within the Ministry of magic, in a room called the Hall of Prophesy –a room she hadn't even known to exist beyond myth and rumor. In each dream, she had been strangely drawn to one particular prophesy –one addressed to her, though she was never actually able to read it. So far, everything her father had told her was true, though she knew there was something beyond what he had told her –something she had to figure out on her own.

"Of course…" Rayna thought to herself, "Arthur Weasley was attacked within the ministry… I bet anything he was in the hall of prophesy."

Rayna sat up, careful not to disturb Ginny and Hermione, who were sleeping soundly in other areas of the small room. She reached down to pull her suitcase over to her, opening it quietly before rummaging through its contents to the bottom of her luggage, where she stored the tiara she found within the Room of Requirement. She ran her fingers along its curves and crevices, obsessively examining every last inch of the strange artifact as thoughts continued to race through her mind.

Suddenly and without warning, Rayna was thrown into a state of unconsciousness, her mind clouded with horrific images that were all too familiar to her. She was engulfed in powerful dark magic, dark magic that both terrified and fascinated her. She saw her father, his pale and snake-like form looking back at her emotionlessly –she saw a tall, handsome looking boy with jet-black hair, alabaster skin and cold blue eyes identical to hers; his head upturned toward the ceiling as he panted and writhed in agony –she saw a great black snake, its mouth opened dangerously as it struck forward before the next image flashed before her –she saw a cave concealed beneath the cliffs, a dark and ominous fog looming out from it and into the ocean water –and then she saw herself, though just a newborn baby, she saw herself looking back at her, the image disturbing her perhaps even more than any of the others. She was thrown back into reality just as quickly as the world was taken from her.

"Keep it safe Rayna," a familiar voice hissed dangerously, laced with threat in the split second reality once again caught up with her, as though it were but the remnants of the visions.

Rayna nodded, though she didn't know why she bothered since there was no way the voice could have heard or much less seen her doing so. She looked around, terrified that either Hermione or Ginny would have woken up –though she intended to examine the object, she wasn't expecting to be taken from her world. With a sigh of relief, she confirmed that they were both sound asleep and leaned back in her bed, placing the diadem back down in her suitcase before curling up in her sheets.

A few things were clear; the tiara was clouded with powerful dark magic, it had everything to do with her father, and it was vital that no one should find it.

…

Two days later Rayna woke up on Christmas morning to find that both Ginny and Hermione had already headed downstairs. The whole ordeal was amusing to Rayna, who had never experienced a holiday quite like this one; they had spent the preceding day putting up Christmas decorations and laughing amongst themselves. She had to admit that she wasn't feeling nearly as down and dark as she had been, the demeanor and joy of the others being as infectious as it was. Perhaps this was why she hadn't expected to wake up and find two relatively small, elegant looking packages sitting idly at the foot of her bed.

Rayna sat up and grabbed them; she knew they couldn't have been from anyone here –the Slytherin crest was stamped upon the fancier looking one and they were both wrapped neatly in expensive parchments unlike anything the Weasley's could afford. She picked up the lavish looking, fancier one and removed the small envelope from the top, opening it carefully before reading the elegant, educated script.

Rayna,

I deeply regret that you have to spend your Christmas with the Weasley's, but know that it will not be long until you are relieved of them.

Happy Christmas.

Lucius Malfoy

Rayna stared at the note for a moment before setting it down to the side of her. She grabbed the small package, taking it in her lap before undoing all of the complicated folds and removing the elegant, emerald green paper to reveal a small box. She opened it to find a beautiful silver necklace with a serpent charm adorned in several shiny, emerald green jewels. It was beautiful –a perfect representation of Slytherin house. Though she knew the company she held wouldn't appreciate it nearly as much as she did, she decided to put it on; she disregarded the intuition that they would almost surely hoard her with questions about it, though she knew she couldn't give away its true origins.

After another lingering moment she looked over to the other package, grabbing it in her lap before folding back all of the folds and wrappings to reveal a large book. It was a dark black, looking as though it came from straight out of Borgin and Burkes; the cover read, "The Darkest Forms of Magic," and nothing more. Sure, she found dark magic fascinating, but that didn't stop her from having to do a double take as she picked up the book. She knew that if anyone here saw it, they would immediately take it from her and get rid of it, but something in her made her keep it, believing that there were no forms of magic that weren't worth exploring and inquiring about. She noticed a bit of parchment sticking out from the front page and opened the cover; immediately, a bit of parchment fell out from its pages. Rayna picked it up to examine the letter.

Rayna,

Take this and read it over the course of the year, it contains a variety of topics I think you would be most interested in. Happy Christmas Rayna, we shall see each other again soon.

Your Father

Rayna gasped, taking a moment to take in the situation; she knew she couldn't say anything about this, not even the letter –if they saw even the letter then the book would be taken from her. She thought about it for a moment –about everything she had been constantly hiding from those closest to her; for once in a long while, tears began to sting her eyes. She was betraying their trust, concealing useful information and aiding her father in a variety of ways. Sure, he was her father, but only in the most literal sense; these were the people she grew up with, the people she loved.

"But you don't really love them." Said a high, cold voice in the back of her mind.

"No," Rayna whispered to herself, "No I don't."

Rayna snapped out of her trance, putting everything away in her suitcase before turning to head downstairs and join the others. When she reached the bottom, the house was hardly recognizable –the cobwebs that once showered every inch of the rooms were replaced by brightly colored garland and streamers, magical glittering snow covered the bare carpet, and a brilliant Christmas tree hid the Black family tree from view. As they sat down in the living room, everyone chatted merrily amongst themselves; the infectious atmosphere making them forget all about the current climate within the wizarding world.

"Rayna!" Hermione said happily as she walked up to her and stuffed a neatly wrapped package in her hands.

"I know," Hermione said casually as she saw Rayna look at the elegant gold and red wrapping paper, "They're Gryffindor colors -but I wasn't going to go out and buy another roll when you don't get along with your own house anyway."

"Thank you, Hermione," Rayna said warmly, molding her face into a charming smile that had Hermione beaming.

Soon the others did the same, and Rayna gave them all their gifts. She received a homework planner from Hermione, one identical to the ones she had given Ron and Harry, a knitted scarf from Mrs. Weasley, a book on advanced defensive magic from Harry, which she noted was the exact opposite of what she had received from her father, and an unusually strong scented perfume from Ginny.

Once they had all had their Christmas lunch, the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Rayna were planning to pay Mr. Weasley a visit at St. Mungo's, escorted by Mad-Eye and Lupin. The journey there was quick, taken in a muggle car that Mundungus Fletcher "borrowed" for the occasion. When they reached Arthur's room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley almost instantly got into an argument concerning Mr. Weasley's use of stitches, a muggle method for healing cuts, as a method of recovery; Rayna knew it wouldn't have been as bad if the stitches actually worked, but apparently the snake's venom dissolved the thread before they could effectively work.

"I fancy a cup of tea," Harry said suddenly, jumping up to his feet.

Rayna, Hermione, Ginny and Ron almost sprinted out the door with him, the door swinging closed behind them just as the heard Mrs. Weasley's shriek, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"

After wandering around the building aimlessly attempting to find the tea room, they found themselves at the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE. A man was peering out at them with his nose pressed against the glass. With wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a broad vacant smile revealing dazzlingly white teeth, they saw their old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher from second year pushing open the door and moving toward them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown.

"Why hello there," Professor Lockhart said enthusiastically, "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"

"Hasn't changed much, has he?" Harry muttered to Ginny, who grinned.

"Er – how are you, Professor?" Ron said guiltily, remembering that it was his malfunctioning wand that landed him in St. Mungo's.

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" Lockhart replied exuberantly, "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know?"

"We don't want any autographs," Rayna said coldly, earning her several warning looks from the others, "Shouldn't you be in a ward, I highly doubt patients here are allowed to roam about freely in the corridors."

Just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice said, "Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?"

A motherly looking healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came busting up the corridor, smiling warmly at Rayna and the others. She began to pull them into the ward for long-term residents, saying something about how pleased she was that Lockhart had visitors as they swarmed uncomfortably into a room that bore all of the unmistakable signs of being a permanent ward for long term residents; all of the inhabitants had personal effects around their beds with pictures of loved ones and artifacts. Rayna felt uncomfortable, so she stayed back behind her friends as they stood around Lockhart's hospital bed.

Rayna was drawn to the corner of the room, were flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds at the far end of the ward to give the occupants and their visitors some privacy. Rayna stared awkwardly, her gaze seeming to be glued on the sight before an old woman wearing a long green dress and a moth-eaten fox fur pulled back the curtains. Behind her, she saw Neville Longbottom looking thoroughly depressed.

"And, -oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?"

Rayna looked over at the two beds behind the curtains, seemingly amused by the unusual sight. Rayna droned out the others for a moment as she craned her head inconspicuously to look over at Neville's parents; his mother was thin and worn, her overlarge eyes and wispy, dead looking white hair made her look nothing like she had seen in Harry's picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. She couldn't seem to speak no matter how hard she tried, making timid motions toward Neville as she held something in her outstretched hand.

"My son and his wife," Mrs. Longbottom said, one of the few things Rayna actually picked up from the conversation, "were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers."

Rayna broke her gaze, watching as Neville stepped forward to take what his mother held out to him. She dropped an empty Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper into his hand, and Rayna noticed him put in into his pocket, despite his grandmother telling him to put the wrapper in the bin. Neville, who stilled looked as awkward and uncomfortable as ever, bid them all goodbye before walking out of the room behind his grandmother with haste.

Rayna looked over at the two aurors who had been tortured into insanity on her father's behalf –she couldn't help but not feel bad, her father, after all, had made more of his life than these two aurors. Rayna felt a cruel smile bubbling up within her, yet she was quick to suppress it and take on a look of pity before her friends could notice her sinister demeanor. She didn't understand what was making her feel this way, but she was angrier with the two aurors who had been driven to insanity than anything; they worked against her father, they did this to themselves and deserved what they got.

"We'll make them all pay Rayna," her father's voice hissed coldly, "they will all meet this fate."

A/N: Don't forget to review! I promised you a darker Rayna, and here we have it, she's growing darker. How do you all feel about her growing progressively closer to her father? Is it realistic? She's never really had a family or a father figure, so it's not an impossibility I don't think. Thoughts? Opinions? Comments? Concerns? Criticism? Have at it. (:

-Hanson