Author's Notes: Hope I didn't make you hang on the edge of the cliff too long! I know your fingers are probably getting tired by now. This chapter was a little difficult to write.

Please remember that Voldemort's Muggle father rejected his mother because she was a witch. She died, and poor, little Voldy was left an orphan. He still has "issues."

The spooky skin idea I got from a time I visited a museum, and there was a display of lampshades and jackets that Hitler had made from the skin of Jews.




Chapter Twelve

My entire body went cold, and I realized that I was, indeed, awake. It was a long moment before I could find my voice. "No, I can't. I won't!" I slid off the bed, backing away from the man. "Who are you? Where's Mr. Malfoy?"

"I am Severus Snape. I believe that Dumbledore has mentioned me."

"He said that you're a teacher, that he trusts you. But how can he, when you're doing something like this?" I panicked and ran passed him like a shot through the door. I ran madly and blindly, making it ten feet or so down the hallway.

"Enervaro!"

My legs suddenly stopped working, and I slammed to the floor. I lay there, paralyzed, my breath ragged with sobs.

"I don't have time, Miss Silverthorn." In spite of his cool words, the man's hands were gentle as he scooped me up in his arms as easily as if I had been a child.

"Don't do this," I sobbed against his shoulder. "Please don't do this. Please let me go. I'll do anything you want." I chanted with hysteria, and I would have been kicking and hitting him if I could have moved. My heart pounded so fast that I could feel my body shake against his chest.

"The headmaster trusts me for a reason," Severus said. "My every intention is to help you survive this encounter, Miss Silverthorn, but I need you to dispense with the hysterics. I need you rational and able to focus." For some reason his calm, matter-of-fact voice cut through my panic. I was able to calm myself enough to listen.

"I informed the Dark Lord of your presence shortly after your talk with Dumbledore," He continued. "Before Lucius had time to do so. I advised him of your potential usefulness at Hogwarts. Indeed, since the Daily Prophet has displayed evidence of your little 'romance' with Potter, it merely served to reinforce the validity of my claim."

"Really?" I relaxed a tiny bit at hearing this.

Severus started towards the floo room, his long legs quickly eating up the distance. "Lucius' meeting with the Dark Lord has not gone well for him," He said. "Your grandfather was in the process of creating a mirror known as the mirror of Emit. It was to be a companion piece to the mirror of Erised, only its purpose was to bring about the fulfillment of desires instead of merely recognizing them. When your mother served the Dark Lord, she attempted to complete it under his orders. The Dark Lord believes that she destroyed the mirror when she fled. He doesn't believe that anyone, not even Dumbledore, could ever have resisted using its power if it survived. Perhaps he suspects Lucius of searching for the mirror in New Orleans. This mirror could possibly destroy the Dark Lord. As you can imagine, he does not want anybody to believe that it could still exist."

We stepped through two sets of green flames, and then we arrived in an open field. Severus took the paralyzing spell off of me, and set me down to stand on the ground. The moon was still a bright, silver crescent in the sky. Streaks of lightening flashed in the distance. The wind was cold, and blew my hair around. I shivered in my thin nightgown, and my bare feet felt cold in the wet grass. I saw a warm light glow from across the field, and I saw the black silhouettes of massive slabs of stone. They seemed to form a ring of some kind.

"Where are we?" I asked. "I've seen this place before, in magazines and stuff."

"We are still in Wiltshire, on Lucius' land," Severus told me. "The Muggles call this place Stonehenge, I believe, but it's been in the Malfoy family for centuries. It's not a good idea to surprise the Dark Lord by apparating directly in front of him. I'd rather step into the circle from outside." His hand pushed gently between my shoulder blades to move me forward.

"Mr. Malfoy owns Stonehenge? But won't there be lots of Muggles around?"

"This is the original monument, an ancient wizard astronomical calendar. When the Muggles discovered it, the Ministry of Magic set up a dummy prop for them and then obliviated them as to its original location. As of now these stones remain unseen by Muggles. The Dark Lord is quite fond of this place, as it is believed that Lucius' ancient ancestors sacrificed Muggles here." Severus' voice fell into a distracted, flat tone as he walked. I guess he was used to giving lectures as a teacher. I couldn't believe how calm he was about this whole thing.

I wanted to ask him more about this, but just then I heard screaming. It was horrible, the kind of screams that make every muscle in your neck tense painfully just to hear them.

"I can't do this!" I stopped, unable to move forward.

"Listen to me," Severus told me, his hand gripping my shoulder firmly. "When you meet the Dark Lord, fall to your knees instantly and kiss the hem of his robes. Address him as "my Lord" or "my Master." Do not speak unless spoken to, and don't give him any cheek. This is very important, Miss Silverthorn- the Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency."

"What's that?"

"It is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind."

"How awful." I shivered. "Hey, I think that Mr. Malfoy can do that, too!"

"This means that the Dark Lord will know if you lie. He will punish you immediately and may kill you if you do so. Perhaps holding an image in your mind that would placate or divert the Dark Lord could be useful. Dumbledore told me about your mother's lover. I believe the man was responsible for her demise?"

"Yes. Karl killed her." A rush of painful memories flooded my mind. Once again I saw the police car pulling up to the house to inform me of my mother's overdose, the sad look on Karl's face as he claimed that he had no idea where she could have gotten the drugs, and her funeral at St. Elizabeth's. I remembered the hard, lonely months when I cried every night. I watched her lawyer deal with the shop's debts, knowing all the time that Karl had stolen much of the profits. I still felt the flush of embarrassment as I had to ask help from Sr. Angela and the other nuns who ran the shelter, taking home boxes of food when I ran short of money.

"I assume that you harbor bad feelings toward him," Severus said. "I want you to focus on his image often as you stand before the Dark Lord, and on how much you hate this Muggle. Keep it very clear in your mind. Do not let your thoughts wander to anything that may provoke the Dark Lord. Remember this statement, Miss Silverthorn, Muggles are treacherous."

"Muggles are treacherous," I whispered. Well, Karl had certainly been treacherous, that much was true.

As we approached closer, I saw that the glow of light came from dozens of lamps that were suspended in mid-air. They floated eerily around the stones. Illuminated in the light were men in long, hooded robes and masks. The shadows the figures made were long and deep, and shifted eerily on the grass.

On a low slab of stone sat who only could have been the Dark Lord. His robes were a light peachy-brown color and they were creased and wrinkled like parchment. Something about them made my skin crawl. The Dark Lord himself was a slender, tall man. Despite his red eyes he was most definitely human, though there was something...off about him. He had dark hair, and smooth, white skin tightly stretched over an aristocratic bone structure. Perhaps as a boy he had been attractive. Strangely enough, something about him reminded me a bit of Harry Potter, or as he would be when he became older.

Mr. Malfoy lay on the ground, his muscles convulsing as though he was in the middle of a seizure. His long hair was tangled and fell around his face. His hands dug into the grass like claws.

"You assume too much, my slippery Lucius. No part of your life belongs to you, to do with as you see fit. I hope you will think twice before you try to keep things from me again." For no reason the Dark Lord laughed, a high, cold, mirthless laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. A flicker of lightening streaked the sky, illuminating his features and making his red eyes gleam. Severus and I caught his attention as we walked into the circle of stones.

"Severus, I see you've returned, with the daughter of worthless traitors." As the Dark Lord announced us, there was a rustle of robes as the Death Eaters grew closer. A feeling of anticipation hung in the air.

Severus pushed me forward. I fell on my knees in front of the Dark Lord and kissed the hem of his robes. The material was leathery and thin, and whispered between my fingers. "My Master," I murmured.

"A long-lost, pureblood child, returning to the wizarding world. How touching. To mark this special occasion, I have worn new robes." He stroked the material of his sleeve fondly. "Do you realize what these are made from?"

"No, my Master." I glanced around at the ring of men around us, but it was impossible to know what any of them were thinking behind their masks.

"Muggle skin." The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed and his smile was horrible. "And the hide of worthless wizarding scum who break their oaths to serve me, who scamper away like cowards, and betray me. Even their children should be cursed."

A strange sort of giggle erupted from a short figure that hid in the shadows. The light from the floating lamps shone out of his eyes, and reflected off of what looked like a silver glove.

"Wormtail understand all about debts," The Dark Lord said. "How difficult they can be to repay."

I felt my stomach tighten with nausea. I was afraid I would vomit right there. I had actually kissed those horrible robes, and they were made from human skin! I felt a surge of disgust and hostility toward the Dark Lord. He might have looked human, but he was an insane monster. I glanced back at Severus. His face was set like stone and just as unreadable. I tried to do as he told me and focused on an image of my mother's boyfriend, channeling all the repulsion I felt toward it.

"I can give you a chance to make up to me a small part of your parents' treachery," The Dark Lord continued. "You could never give back to me the Mirror of Emit, of course. It no longer exists." He glared at Mr. Malfoy, and then out toward his Death Eaters. "And it would be foolish for anyone to search for it. If I hear of anyone attempting to find it, they will be most severely punished."

The Dark Lord turned to me again. "I would like to help further your education. My Severus is not the only one here gifted with the art of teaching. What do you know of the unforgivable curses?"

"Um, I read about them in a book, my Master." I swallowed and tried to keep my voice from shaking.

"Then you know of the Cruciatus curse, do you not? We'll begin with that. I have always believed that first hand experience helps one to remember the lesson well." He leaned forward and raised his wand over me.

My eyes grew wide, and I flinched.

The Dark Lord suddenly stopped, looking directly into my eyes. "Who is this man in your memories?" He asked me. "This Muggle that you hate so much?"

"He was my mother's boyfriend, my Master."

The wand slowly lowered. "Stand and come closer."

When I had done so, he gripped my jaw with his hand, much as Mr. Malfoy had done, but the Dark Lord's touch was icy cold, like the touch of a corpse. The Dark Lord peered into my eyes, as if he was looking down into a deep well.

"Yes," He finally told me. "Muggles are treacherous. This filthy Muggle made you an orphan." His voice hissed out as though he was tormented by the thought of it. "Muggle men treat witches like filth!" The Dark Lord withdrew his hand, and his eyes glazed over, as though he was watching a distant scene from the past. "You saw him as a potential father, but he betrayed you. He threw your mother away like she was a piece of trash, and he will never return to you. He will never be your father."

I nodded, amazed that he was able to discern my feelings so well. These were things I had never told anyone.

He then began to ask me questions about my mother's boyfriend. The Dark Lord asked what his full name was, and even where he lived in the French Quarter.

"Lucius!" The Dark Lord said. "Do you know this place of which she speaks?"

Mr. Malfoy pushed himself to his feet. He threw the hair out of his eyes, and shook himself out, but his eyes were clear and venomous. He nodded. "Yes, my Master."

"Find this man, and bring him here. Now. Tonight."

Mr. Malfoy retrieved his walking stick, bowed to the Dark Lord, and immediately dissapparated.

"Come and sit here, my child." The Dark Lord motioned for me to sit at his feet.

I huddled there against the foot of the stone, shivering. The cold dew from the grass soaked through my nightgown. The Dark Lord slid his long, bony fingers through my hair, petting me as if I was a dog.

"Let me tell you what I want from you," He told me. "While we are waiting for your vengeance. You will be attending Hogwarts this school year. Classes have already begun. However, that old fool of a headmaster has graciously offered to have Severus supervise your tutoring until next term. Potter has obviously displayed an interest in you. I want you to become close to him and his friends, and inform me of everything. I would like very much to destroy someone close to the boy, perhaps that Mudblood girl or Weasley. Last year Sirius Black, who was Potter's Godfather, died. But I don't want to merely break the boy's spirit; This year I want to crush him..."

"Excuse me, my Master," I said. "But how am I supposed to contact you? Do I write to you?"

"My servant, Severus, is my informant at Hogwarts. He claims that he has not been able to get close to Potter, that Dumbledore does not quite trust him. Now he will have no excuse. Severus does seem awfully anxious for you to attend school there, instead of being locked away in Malfoy Mansion. I wonder if all his motives are purely for my benefit." The Dark Lord shot a look at Severus, who as usual, was standing there as still as a statue.

Severus glided towards us. "I admit, my Master, that some of my interest in Miss Silverthorn attending Hogwarts is personal. The Mirror-Magi are, by nature of their craft, natural masters of potion making. I look forward to guiding a student with such a strong predisposition for the subject." Severus gazed down at me, and the look in his black eyes was almost hungry. "It would be a refreshing change from all the idiots I usually have to put up with."

"Severus, that's the most passion I've ever seen you display toward a woman," The Dark Lord said mockingly. "And here I thought that ice ran in your veins. Very well, the girl is yours. You are responsible for her. Just make sure that you don't end up playing the role of Gaius to his Miranda." His eyes narrowed with the warning.

I snuck a quick glance at Severus. His face, however, was completely neutral and impassive.

"My Master, what of her engagement to Lucius' son?"

The Dark Lord waved the question away with his hand. "Lucius can do whatever he wishes with the girl after I am finished with her."

"Knowing Potter's heroic, Gryffindor-like nobility as I do," Severus told him. "I predict that he will want to rescue her from Draco's influence."

Mr. Malfoy apparated into the circle with a pop, looking haggard and exhausted. He was not alone. He pushed a figure down onto the ground. The brown-haired man fell to his knees and looked wildly around him. He wore shorts and a tank top, which seemed terribly out of place. I had never seen anyone look so disoriented and terrified. It took him several long moments before he recognized me. "Miriel?" He asked. "What am I doing here? What in God's name--"

"I can be generous with those who serve me well," The Dark Lord told me. "Consider this as a demonstration of my ability to show gratitude. This is a small gift, a token, for the service you will render me. Crucio!"

Karl fell to the ground in convulsions, screaming as no one I had ever heard before. Even Mr. Malfoy hadn't screamed in such agony. Karl screamed for what seemed like an eternity until he passed out.

I gasped for breath. It was as though I was suddenly split in two. Part of me felt a fierce satisfaction at seeing this man suffer. I had dreamt all those months of this man paying for what he had done. The other part of me was horrified that I didn't feel guilty. I heard echoes of Sr. Angela's admonitions about forgiveness.

The Dark Lord looked at me expectantly.

"Thank you, my Master. It's too generous of you," I managed to choke out.

By the time that the Dark Lord had revived Karl two or three times, my satisfaction turned into pity, and then finally, into horror. Karl's mouth foamed with black blood, and he bled copiously from his nose, ears and eyes. His face became distorted to the point that I no longer recognized him. It seemed like the Dark Lord tortured him for hours. If that wasn't bad enough, the Death Eaters that surrounded us sounded highly entertained. Their laughter bounced off the stones around us, until it sounded as though there were hundreds of them.

Finally, the Dark Lord paused and said, "And this, my child, is a demonstration of my punishment, what awaits you if you fail me." He raised his wand towards Karl once again. "Avada Kedavra!"

I was blinded by a flash of green light, and then there was only silence.




Many thanks to all my reviewers!!!

Thank you to Chocoliciouz, Eclipse of Stars, and Dragonwing!

Nemblewhiska: Thanks for liking my story. I'd be flattered if you'd like to use the idea of Mirror-Magi or the name Silverthorn in your story. Please don't rip off Miriel, though- I'm kind of attached to her! If you used any detailed ideas from my story, it would be nice if you'd give me credit. I've probably unconsciously ripped off a lot of stuff from fan fiction stories I've read. I don't mean to, but things stick in my brain.

SlateOne: Wow- all the ideas you sent me were great- and very complex. You are obviously more savvy about Fudge and the MoM than I am. If I use any of your ideas about how Lucius escaped Azkaban, I'll definitely give you the credit for them. You are very imaginative- Have you considered writing your own story? I think you should.

Rycca Wolfbane: (LadyJenilyn takes out her sword, ExcaliburII, and lightly taps the reviewer on the shoulder with the long, glittering blade) I dub thee, Lady Wolfbane, a member of the Groupies of the Round Table! Okay, I'm getting silly- too much Monty Python. Thank you once again, dear lady, for your nice review. I can tell it's going to take Alan Rickman coming to your door (naked!) to convince you to finish your story.

Escaped: Thank you, once again for your great review. I took after you in this chapter, and gave myself nightmares! I think that Voldemort would be kind of sexist, I mean he grew up in the 30's, where traditionally women stayed in the home, and outside of Bellatrix you never hear of any female Death Eaters. Yes, I think Miriel is a lot braver than I am! I think that a lot of times people who have been abused or who have seen abuse can be very passionate and brave about defending others, and in this case I think she felt that way about poor Draco. I think that Lucius has to totally suppress all emotion around Voldemort. I think of him as being abused by Voldemort, and Lucius kind of takes out his stress at home. Hmmm...I think that maybe I put way too much thought into everything. HA! I even gave Miriel her name because it kind of sounds like "mirror." Anyway, I appreciate all the great details in your reviews. Yes, indeed, you shall sit at the place of honor at the Round Table! :-)

MerryDay: Thank you for liking my story. Yeah, sweaty, muscle-bound, armored, semi-naked bodies just aren't enough to save a movie! I'm a nerd and the highlight of my life right now is waiting for the Azkaban movie to come out. I can't imagine David Thewlis as Professor Lupin! That little moustache just creeps me out.

Arsinoe de Blassenville: Thank you so much for reviewing my story. I appreciate it a lot. I really like your new story about the portrait, by the way, and I think it's very intelligent. I'm still laughing at "Oldyfart" instead of "Voldemort."