A Greater Power
By: ParallelDragonfly
Chapter One:
A New Beginning
CHRISTINE LESTRANGE looked up at the daunting and intimidating structure of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's home with keen, critical interest. Her footsteps echoed off the paved walkway beneath her feet.
The heavy iron-wrought gates of the Malfoy's Manor swung open of their own accord the moment her father raised his left arm and the protective enchantment barricading any unwanted visitors to the Malfoy's home was instantly lowered. She marveled at how quickly their lives had changed.
And all in the span of a single calendar year. A year since the Dark Lord had granted her father the privilege of becoming a Death Eater, albeit one low in rank for the moment, though in time, perhaps that would change.
A year since Mother died.
No! She forced her mind to grind to a complete halt and skidded to a halt, nearly running into Father's back as she did so. Her eyes widened as she shook her head to herself, desperate to send the pitiful images away.
She would not think of Mother. She could not do it. Christine had said goodbye to Mother months ago when they'd buried her.
It was as she had laid the final white lily flower upon her mother's resting place in their backyard underneath her favorite willow tree, she had forced that chapter of her life to come to a complete end.
Her illness had been her father's primary reason for allying themselves with the Dark Lord.
Lord Voldemort had ensured them that her mother would be given the best possible care during her final days, though no such cure existed in the wizarding world for her ailment.
The Dark Lord's word had been his bond, for her mother had died comfortably, in her own home, surrounded by her husband and only daughter at her bedside, and had passed away peacefully.
Her poor father even a year later was still not over the death of her mother, and she worried about him being alone in their home in their wizarding village of Doveport, near Godric's Hollow a few miles over.
It was her worry and apprehension at him being left alone that she had insisted she be allowed to join him, to work alongside her father as a Death Eater for the Dark Lord, if only to be able to keep an eye on him.
She cast her gaze to her father out of the corner of her gaze as they were led inside by the Malfoy's newest family servant, a tiny house-elf named Whisky who chirped at the witch and wizard in a shrill voice to follow her. The elf disappeared inside the door.
Christine and Elias Lestrange hovered for a moment outside. Her father seemed keen and eager to give his daughter advice while there was still time. Her father was not looking well at all these days.
He still appeared very pale, far too pale for the wizard to be considered healthy. His thick mop of white curls was unkempt and in dire need of a good trim and comb, and the dark purple bags underneath his eyes were only growing more prominent as the days passed.
He was not sleeping well due to his nightmares of his beloved wife's death. Christine had been sympathetic towards his predicament at first and had tried to get her father to drink a glass of a Sleeping Draught in the evenings before bed, or even a glass of warm milk to help him sleep.
But Elias Lestrange stubbornly refused that anything was to be given to him, claiming he wanted to remember the pain, the hurt, and the suffering, for then he'd remember how much he loved her. She did not understand and quit trying to pressure him into doing something he did not want to.
The retired wandmaker and wand lore expert turned to look critically at his only daughter, feeling his heartstrings give out a painful little lurching tug. If she was offered the position of a Death Eater, it was most likely that there would never be another chance to speak with her, for she would be paired with another witch or wizard far superior in rank to Elias.
"Christine, you must listen to me very carefully, sweetheart, do you understand? There is to be no negative talk about the Dark Lord or his methods. The same thing goes for the way the rest of the Death Eaters operate. You must learn quickly and not fail him or fall behind if you are serious about doing this. Were there another way, I would have you take it, however, I fear this is your only choice," he lamented, a cloud of regret flitting across his sunken-in features. "Do you understand?" he questioned Christine sadly.
"Yes," replied Christine, her gaze somber. Her father stared at her nebulously for a moment before looking away to compose himself, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
"You will do well, I am sure. The Dark Lord would not have called for you if he did not believe you capable," he said.
There was a pause, and Elias parted his lips as if he intended to say more, though before he could get in another word edgewise, the front door of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's home creaked open, and Whisky poked her head through the door, her overly-large batlike ears were drooped in hesitation and a look of annoyance was on her face as her eyes were as large as dinner plates.
"Special Mistress Lestrange? If you's could please follow Whisky, he waits for you in the dining room. Master Lestrange, you's may wait outside," she squeaked in a shrill voice, crinkling her large nose.
"Good luck, Luv," Elias replied in a low murmur, to which Christine replied with a tight smile and curt nod, though swallowed all the bile gathering in her throat.
Before following the Malfoy family's house-elf inside, she turned on her heels to give her father one last look.
She did not know why Father was helping her fulfill her urge to become a Death Eater when she knew he was opposed to the idea, but all the same, she was grateful that he was not putting up too much resistance and allowing her to follow her path, and what she wanted, was to be alongside her father.
"Thank you, Dad," she said, before turning away. It was all she could think to say to her father at this moment.
As she slipped inside the darkness of the Malfoy's home, a wave of icy air washed over her and as she made to follow the house-elf down the corridor toward the dining room, she noted that she was starting to feel nervous.
It was something she had not anticipated, and her hands were becoming clammy and starting to shake.
Christine was led towards the Malfoy family's dining room by the house-elf, looking around in awe at the magnificence of the lavish manor. Their home was grand, old, and in a bit of slight ill repair, but magnificent nonetheless, and a far cry more extravagant than her and her father's modest home.
As she walked down the cold hallways, she reached out to touch the cool walls. She was so enraptured with the various portraits of the Malfoy family that covered the wall, that she nearly barreled into their house-elf Whisky in the process.
She jumped back, and hastily apologized with a bright pink blush covering her face as she clamped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment as she waited for the tiny little creature to speak.
The Malfoy family's house-elf was looking at the coloring of her cheeks with a strange interest, as though she had gone mad for daring to apologize to her, but the elf looked away soon enough for it to not be too strange.
"He waits for you," the house-elf said somberly, and slowly pushed the door open. Christine nodded and did not bother to look back behind her, though she heard the door close shut behind her, and her heart was in her throat. Her breath caught in her throat as she gingerly entered the dining room and found the Dark Lord himself seated at the end of the rectangular table. Only one other man was present in the room alongside him, standing to his left, a man she recognized and one she thought she would never see again. Barty Crouch Jr. stood tall and straight and proud and shot her something of a leering grin as she shyly entered the room.
There was a bit of rake in the handsome dark-haired wizard's smile, a devilish white smile meant to charm and disarm, which suggested he'd not changed a wit since she'd suffered through the man's company as his father had once been a friend of her mother's.
At the time, there was talk of seeing her engaged to Barty to unite the two pureblood wizard families, though the discussion had come to a halt the moment her mother's illness had worsened.
She wondered if Barty had forgotten, but by the look on his face, he had not. She wondered what her future might hold as she froze, mulling it over if she would have to work with him.
The Dark Lord sensed her before he saw her. The wizard had greeted her almost before she'd crossed the threshold of the room.
"Miss Lestrange. You are very nearly late, my dear. I was beginning to think you had lost your way," the Dark wizard nodded, his voice high and shrill and cold in such a manner that immediately stuffed the chills down her throat. He motioned her towards him.
She could only comply and moved to take the seat opposite him, covering the distance from the door to the table in short order. Her cheeks flushed with color as she felt the burn of Barty Crouch Jr.'s penetrating gaze on her as she moved to sit down in the chair.
"F-Forgive me, milord, I did not e-expect that you would call for me. It took my father longer than he anticipated to convince me to leave our home and come away with him. I thought that he was...that I...never mind, I...I can personally give you my word, My Lord, that it will not happen again," she apologized hastily, her tongue feeling like heavy clay in her mouth. Her voice held a slight stutter to it, likely from nervousness, and she bit the inside wall of her cheek as she curiously flicked her gaze toward Barty.
Why was he here? He should not be here. Merlin's Beard, could her day possibly get any worse than this? Was the Dark Lord not aware of their history together? Was that it? Was Barty to be her new partner? A shudder went down her spine at the very thought.
She lowered her head with the utmost reverence for the Dark Lord, though her reverence came from a place of trepidation and uncertainty. She was still at a loss as to what it was that Lord Voldemort could have a need of her for. She was a nobody in their family, the black sheep among the Lestranges.
She had no real career prospects to think of, her father was a retired wandmaker now indebted to the Dark Lord for the care of her mother who was no longer alive, and no marriage proposals to accept or deny, either. This was her only chance left at proving her worth to the rest of her family.
She swallowed down hard past a lump in her throat and fought not to stare too intently at the Dark Lord, though she had not expected her father's master to look like this.
He could barely sit upright in the chair, and most of the wizard's bone-white face was shrouded by the overly large hood of his thick woolen robes. His features were warped and twisted, his body skeletally thin, and his dark slit eyes glistened a dark scarlet hue as the wizard's burning, penetrating gaze found Christine's eyes. Her cheeks burned and she immediately looked away.
Thankfully, he pretended not to see, or perhaps he did not care what she thought of him. Likely the latter, Christine thought. She swallowed down hard and when she did, it felt as though she had swallowed knives, and her ears were burning, her heart pounding in her ears, and she could hear the blood in her eardrums. Her voice sounded faint and muffled as she shyly spoke up.
"You sent for me, My Lord?" she questioned, internally cringing at how timid she sounded now.
He offered her a curt nod of his head, his expression austere and unsmiling. But then, he never smiled. "No doubt, Miss Lestrange, you are wondering why I have asked for you and Bartemius to join me tonight," he answered in a soft and smooth voice.
Christine smiled, a bit embarrassed as if the Dark Lord had heard the thoughts that were echoing through her mind, but of course, he would have. Lord Voldemort was the world's most accomplished Legilimens. She had always gotten the impression the wizard knew the thoughts of others and often manipulated them to his advantage. She prayed he would not do it to her.
"Yes, My Lord, I...I have been," Christine quietly confirmed, thinking it would do her no good in this situation to lie to the Dark Lord. "How—how may I help you?" she questioned, the furrow of confusion between her brow deepening as she flicked her gaze towards Barty. She tried to gauge the young wizard's reaction, but Barty's face was blank and impassive, his hot dark eyes listless.
The Dark Lord looked almost contemplative and thoughtful for a moment before he spoke.
"I would ask for your service to me at Hogwarts this year, my dear, alongside Bartemius. It has recently come to light that the Triwizard Tournament will be hosted at the school this year, and this presents me with the perfect opportunity to lure Harry Potter to me. I require his blood, unwillingly given, if I am to gain a new body. Bartemius here alongside Wormtail has already begun to work towards this end, though it is not enough. The men will need further assistance. This task I have in mind for you requires a witch's touch, delicate, subtle. And you, Miss Lestrange, were Bartemius's only choice in terms of a suitable partner when I questioned him if he had anyone particular in mind."
Christine was flabbergasted. Her lips parted as if to speak, however, it took the witch a moment to do so.
"I…I did not know..." She trailed off, looking towards Barty with surprise. She had not expected that he would speak so highly of her capabilities. She swallowed and returned her attentions towards her father's master, and soon, she supposed, he would be hers as well. "I did not know of the Triwizard Tournament being hosted there this year, My Lord, but I will do anything I can to help if it means I may work alongside my father, in time, that would be my only request of you, Lord," Christine passionately promised him.
Lord Voldemort nodded, knowingly, and cast a curious glance toward Barty Crouch Jr. quizzically. Barty had known ahead of time that the witch would not refuse his request and had assured him that Christine Lestrange's word was her bond, her very honor.
"Your father has reassured me time and time again during his servitude to me that your word is your bond, Miss Lestrange. He has given me no reason to doubt him, and therefore, I do not. If you are agreeable, upon completion of your first task tonight alongside Bartemius, I will grant your request and you will join my ranks as a Death Eater, my dear."
Christine was slowly realizing that what the Dark Lord was asking of her now was indeed of far greater importance than she could imagine. She understood the opportunity the Dark Lord was giving her was one that she must not refuse.
Suddenly, she thought there was nothing she wanted more than to undertake this new assignment, whatever it might be. But first, she had to make sure her father would be looked after, in her absence.
As her excitement grew, so did her courage.
"Whatever you will ask of me, I will do it, however, I would ask a small favor in return."
"Ask and if it is within my abilities to grant your request, then it is done," Lord Voldemort answered languidly.
"I would like Antonin Dolohov to check up on my father regularly, My Lord, twice daily, to ensure that he's eating his meals properly."
Antonin Dolohov was a long-time family friend and more recently, had almost vied for her hand in marriage, though the wizard had respectfully backed off considerably in his advances when her mother had passed away, letting her have the time needed to grieve Mother. She hesitated and bit down on her lip. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw the Dark Lord's lips twitch.
"Consider it done."
Christine let out a little breath she did not realize she had been holding and felt her shoulders slump in relief. She was grateful her father would not be alone while she was away.
"Miss Lestrange." Lord Voldemort calmly and quietly called attention back to the matter at hand. "Preparations have been made for your and Bartemius's departure to well-known Auror, Alastor Moody's home, where you will apprehend the wizard no matter the cost. Bartemius will be assuming the man's identity for the duration of the term to allow Harry Potter to advance seamlessly through the Triwizard Tournament. Turning the Triwizard cup into a Portkey is the easiest way to bring the boy to me without raising unwanted attention. I would ask that you look after Bartemius as the man's partner and aid him with whatever he requires. In turn, you could not ask for a more capable dueler at your side to serve as your guard, your protector, Miss Lestrange. What say you? Will a few hours be enough time to prepare?" he asked, motioning with a curt wave of his hand that seemed too large for his body for Barty to join Christine as the witch had begun to make her way towards the door, sensing their conversation was ended.
Christine nodded, purposefully ignoring Barty Crouch Jr.'s irritating flirtatious leers threatening to burn a hole in the back of her skull as the tall wizard came to stand behind her. She had a hand on the knob of the door but did not twist it as she slowly turned her head to regard her new master.
"It will, My Lord," she confirmed, secretly surprised.
The Dark Lord had been sure she would accept. The Dark Lord nodded and then turned his red eyes towards Barty.
"And what of you, Bartemius?" he asked. "Will you be ready to depart in a few hours?"
Barty nodded. "Yes, My Lord," he said, unsmiling.
"Very well. It is settled," Lord Voldemort announced. "I am fortunate that Harry Potter will be in your most capable hands, Miss Lestrange, Mr. Crouch. Keep in regular contact as to your progress as the Tournament progresses." He almost half-smiled at the stunned look on Christine's face as he waved his wand and closed the door behind them the moment they'd stepped over the threshold.
She stood there for a moment, rooted to her spot, and left to ponder the events of the last few moments. She had thought her destiny was to remain here in London by her father's side, but perhaps she had been wrong. So wrong.
Christine hesitantly lifted her gaze towards Barty—her new partner—and sucked in a breath.
He seemed even more devilishly handsome now that they were a little older than he had when they were in school, though she'd not given him the time of day back then, wanting nothing to do with him.
His form was slender underneath his clothes. His white skin was near the color of paper, and his cheekbones were slightly sunken in. His eyes were dark and piercing, and his dark hair needed a trim a week ago. Christine felt a shiver run up and down her spine as she looked at Barty Crouch Jr. For a moment, she felt lost in the wizard's stare, unable to move or think or even speak.
Goosebumps broke out over her skin as a small, sensuous little smile spread to his lips. Barty looked at her, the man's thin mouth pinching and turning downward.
Slowly, the wizard's head tilted downward as well, and Christine inexplicably felt a chill run over her. Her stomach lurched when she came to understand, without the slightest doubt in her heart, that he was slowly, openly, without shame, ogling her.
Her face turned a deep cherry red and she tried to pretend she did not notice. She was pretty enough, having inherited her mother's looks. She was not too skinny and waifish but athletic, with long dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes, dark like chocolate.
She had been used to creeps checking her out when she was still a student and back at home in Doveport, but the fact that his silent appraisal was occurring after the Dark Lord had just appointed them as partners, did not sit well with her.
"Christine, darling." His voice was richly accented and deep. It lulled her even deeper into her haze, and she was disgusted with herself. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Luv. I thought considering what happened the last time, you'd not want to see me again."
As he moved to step closer to her, she felt a wave of icy air wash over her. The sensuous little smile was still on his lips and Christine, now out of her haze, thank Merlin, fought back the sneer that threatened to break free.
But when he reached for her hand, wrapping his long and slender fingers around her delicate left hand, and bringing it to his lips, she angrily withdrew her hand, as though the touch of his lips had burned her. Suspicion colored her features.
She had the sense he was mocking her, forcing her to relive memories she would rather not think about.
She shoved his chest, harsh and strong, she was sure, and took a step forward to get away from him, anger surging within her.
"Don't play this game with me, snake," she spat, contempt and hurt dripping from her tone. "Barty, you've always thought yourself to be clever and witty, but I see right through you. You're not." She swallowed down hard. "Please, Barty. Don't. If there's even an ounce of decency left still within you, if you have any decent feelings for me left all all, don't," she begged, her voice trembling.
Christine had the satisfaction of seeing Barty surprised, but only for a moment. Before the Death Eater could recover, she turned on the heels of her boots and angrily stormed off, leaving Barty staring after her wistfully, not seeing the tears in Christine's dark eyes.
She left the corridor and disappeared down the stairs of the Malfoy's home in haste, wrapped in fear of the way Barty Crouch Jr.'s eyes followed her to the exit. His face was that of a normal, almost plain man.
If he was not her partner and had they not had such a rough history with one another as former classmates, she might have even gone as far as to say that she thought Barty could have been a wizard she could have deeply loved. His thick hair was a dull walnut color, and Barty had the physical build of a wizard she once dreamt of embracing and letting herself get lost in the sensation of loving him, back when she was a stupid girl with even dumber dreams about loving a man and being loved in return. His eyes were hot and dark. He looked innocent and gentle enough, but she knew him well enough by now, what sort of man the wizard was, and was not about to let herself be fooled by Barty Crouch Sr.'s son a second time. Merlin, no.
She remembered how he had kissed her hand, and her inner demons had screamed at her. She shivered, but not from the cold. Horror clung to her heels as she disappeared out the front door and found her father already gone. Perhaps he'd already gone home. She closed her eyes the moment she came to stand in the Malfoy's Courtyard, turning on her heels and Disapparating for her home.
She had only been a partner to Barty Crouch Jr. for less than five minutes, and already, she feared the worst.