Nymphadora Tonks could generally be found out and about searching for flobberworms, or practicing potions, and, of course, spilling them on herself. No matter how many extra limbs, how much skin she turned purple, or any other amount of pain she accidentally inflicted on herself, she never ceased to be fascinated with the world of magic around her. Of course, she dreamed of being an Auror, so she took almost every class that was offered, but it wasn't just interest, it was wonder.

Though she loved many aspects of magic, there were some she hated. Slytherin House in particular, and she could narrow that dislike down to mainly the Slytherins that lived in that house. From there she could narrow it down to seventh year Slytherins. There was one in particular that she especially could not stand, and that was Corbeau Black.

Tonks sneered to herself, "Beau Black with her glamorous life, rich Death Eater parents, beautiful skin and hair, and any boy she wanted. That ambitious Slytherin, who thought Griffyndors as enemies and Hufflepuffs as dirt. Basically a 'popular girl' like back at Muggle School..."

Tonks turned her hair black down to her waist and her face to match Corbeau's smug expression, and proceeded to imitate her in a crude way. She was somehow entertained at the notion.


Corbeau stared at her reflection in the vanity-style mirror in the upstairs bathroom of Lupin's house. The more she stared at it, the more she hated it and vice versa.

"Forfex Appario!" she whispered, waving her thin, silver wand so that a skinny, shiny pair of scissors fell into her open hand. Staring at her reflection once more, the perfect complexion, the dark hair framing her face in a way that made her look older and more sophisticated, she proceeded to chop all of her locks off without a second thought.

Crying the whole time she thought "Why can't I be myself anymore?" specifically. Ever since her mother and father's deaths she found it hard to act like she always had. It was impossible to act happy or even interested in anything at the moment, and all of the liveliness she once had seemed to be escaping her.

With her new haircut straightened, she looked like a different person, intense, perhaps, but more of an evil showed in her face. Sure, many girls would love to have the fact she had now, but a certain hatred showed in her face to make it look like she would inflict pain on you if you looked her in the eyes.

As a demon desperately tries to escape the prison depths of Hell, a demon had successfully escaped from Corbeau's heart and showed himself in her soul. With that, Corbeau herself was shrouded into darkness.

It was as if a bit of her father was showing through at long last.


Feeling a promise of strength and power, the Dark Lord's spirit let out a blood curdling scream of glory. He was detached, lifeless, and wandering aimlessly without the use of his servants to aid him, but still he could feel a voice calling out to him. It was young, innocent, and...feminine?

The spirit didn't know who it was, or what it wanted, but it seemed to be channeling him.