To Be Queen Among the Damned
Chapter 2
Disclaimer: It all belongs to JKR.
Pansy shook off her mother's grasp. "Mother! What are you saying?"
Louisa turned her bleary gaze upon her daughter. "I'm saying that you are in grave danger. And do you know why? That damn Potter boy, he had a photo in his trunk. The Great Hall. You were in it."
"You're not making any sense, Mother." Pansy began to back toward the doors. Perhaps one of the house-elves had already brewed a Dreamless Sleep Draught. "What does Potter have to do with anything?"
"Nott's boy got into his trunk on the train, and Nott sent the things to our Lord. He saw the photograph, and he saw you."
"I don't know what that has to do with anything," Pansy said, her skin crawling in anticipation. Her mother's drunken episodes were nothing new, but this paranoia, this strange story... She didn't want her mother to hurt herself, or get herself committed to St. Mungo's. No one deserved the torture of being confined to a room with the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart.
Louisa stumbled forward and held Pansy's face between her hands. "My darling. My beloved child. More than sixteen years ago, I was part of the Wizard Separation movement. We all were, everyone that mattered. Our Lord--" She broke off, her voice lowering to a hiss. "You know who, Pansy, you know."
"Of course I know," Pansy said trying to get free. "You're hurting me."
"We wanted to preserve the old ways, the separation. We wanted to protect our children from the Muggles. We wanted pure blood. We wanted a society unencumbered by Muggle-borns and all the horrors they bring, their drugs, their love of selling our secrets. Our Lord was our leader, and Pansy, when he was at his height, you should have seen him."
"I've heard he's horrible looking. Is it true?" Pansy asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"He looks like magic. Pure, pure magic. Some call it Dark, but you and I know it is merely that which scares those too weak to wield it. Before, though, he looked like any other man. His name, and we do not speak it unless we must, because to know it is to dare our very lives--"
"What is it?"
Louisa slapped Pansy so hard that the girl crumpled to the floor. "I've told you. Tom Riddle. He became the Dark Lord." Bending down, Louisa ran her hand gently over Pansy's straight, shining locks. "He is your father. And you must know, because you must understand why you cannot leave Hogwarts. In the castle, you will be out of his reach."
"What do I have to fear from him?" Pansy said. "He's powerful, the most powerful, and--"
"Close your foolish mouth." Louisa kneeled and wrapped her arms around her daughter, though Pansy struggled. "He does not know love. You, all of us, are expendable. I carried you within me because I loved you; I gave him myself because of his power. Pansy, he can't win. He won't. He's too weak, and he'll use you for his own ends. Stay in the castle. Let the trouble pass. We'll worry about the Muggles afterward."
Louisa let go her daughter and crossed to a heavy, carved wardrobe and rummaged within it while Pansy rubbed her jaw, which was rapidly purpling. "Here," she said, holding out an intricately painted porcelain teacup. "I won't send any letters, for I think the Death Eaters can trace family members, and you shall not send any to me." Louisa squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I love you. Stay in the castle."
Pansy, puzzled, sore, and overwhelmed, held up her palm for the teacup. It was a testament to the rarity of her befuddlement that she did not realize it was a Portkey until she felt the familiar tug behind her navel and found herself in the Slytherin common room.