Silence greeted the Death Eater's return to their Lord. The old Riddle house had quickly been improved for their use as the lair of Voldemort. It was said that the Dark Lord himself warded the grounds, but in reality, it wasn't remotely true. The only place one could apparate to on the grounds was dubbed "The Ballroom" where Tom Riddle had killed his father so many years ago. Dementors had the run of the grounds, under his direct control and had already dispatched a few curious muggles in their loveable way.
Sitting in my room, sickenly enough, his grandparents old room, I sat in the one rickety chair I had. The others in this large room had long since rotted away, along with the bed, drapes and carpeting. If I would only co-operate with him, it had the potential to be better, much better. Perhaps, like Bellatrix's room, which was the guest room next to Tom Riddle Sr.'s (and now Voldemort's) old room. I had seen into her room, sparkling and ornate, but filled with dark objects. Like my mother used to say before she found out that dad and me where wizarding folk, "When the devil tempts, he doesn't throw a dirty rag in your face!" Any moment now a house elf will come to fetch me for our audience with the Dark Lord. As the only witch in this house without the mark, I am an oddity. Kept under lock and key, no one dares question the Dark Lord about my prescence. After all, I am his special pet, his seer and his Magyne.
If you are of a more muggle background, the term "Magyn" may seem foreign to you. To make this the simplest of explainations, our word "Magyn" has been shortened, misspelled and used in many muggle fairy tales as "Genie". I have committed a wrong so terrible, that Merlin himself created the name for my condition. I am unfit to even receive the Dementor's Kiss! What did I do that was so wrong? No one remembers, but me. I murdered a man, the same offence of many a Death Eater. I am special in that, for reasons unknown, the Fates themselves have seen fit to punish me. Who are the Fates? No one really knows, because the only people who are made aware of my condition and the Fates reality, are the Magyn and its master or mistress. Trust me, these Fates have an ironic and cruel, sense of humor. As for what I do, I follow much the same lines as a "Genie", I am tied to Voldemort until I have completed my penance and are released to death. I do his bidding of my own free will simply because to disobey could mean anything, and nothing good. I do what I do so that Voldemort does not increase in power and possibly destroy Harry Potter, a person I greatly admire. I am an extremely powerful seer, and I seek out other seers for Voldemort, along with giving him my visions. Often, the seers I find are quickly destroyed and with increasing frequency, by my own wand. After an hour of having Voldemort able to see almost anything in my mind, I drove myself mad. At least that's my explaination for when I block him from seeing things. The madness clouds my mind so I can pick and choose what he can view, but he can see everything I see with my physical eyes. No, this audience bodes not well for me. If he questions me as to what I said to Hermione... I must think of something, anything!
"Miss Elis?" squeaked a tiny voice behind me. Standing up and turning around quickly, I find Peony, a house elf, cringing where she stands. "Miss? The Dark Lord wants to be seein' you, Miss!" before she disappeared back wherever she had come from. She was here because of me. Voldemort wasn't about to come all the way upstairs to fetch me and neither were any of the Death Eaters!
"Bloody Hell!" I whisper, before striding out of my room and down several flights of stairs to "The Ballroom". Corridors covered in mildew ended once I reached the floors that Voldemort frequented. This part of the house was beautifully restored to well past its former glory.
The doors to The Ballroom where open and I swept inside, steeling myself for the worst. To my surprise, there were few present. Voldemort graced his large stone chair on the raised mist dias to one side of the doors, Bellatrix hovered ever closeby, Lucius and Avery stood a little nervously by the door.
"Galara," Voldemort crooned, "You grace us with your presence at last I see?"
"Yes Tom," I piped up, he absolutly hated me calling him that. What could he do? Kill me? A laugh escapes my lips and echoes in the room, and everyone is staring at me. I break out into a raptorous grin and I exclaim quickly, "Summer bright and winter night! The spiders weave and the birds greave! Does anyone see the lying genes?" Catching a look of myself in the polished glass of empty portrait frames and annouce, "I look great! Don't you think so Tom?"
"Galara," Tom growls before whispering "Avada Kedavra" for everyone to hear.
The green bolt of light hits me square in the chest, and I fall to the ground gasping in pain. I cannot die because I still have penace left to do, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like to do it anyway. He has them convinced that he cannot die as well, and by 'killing' me, it provides great incentive to believe him.
My ribs ache, and I know I'm going to have one hell of a bruise...again...tomorrow. I wish I could heal myself, but unfortunately, my magic has limits. The stint with Hermione was going to cost me, I probably wouldn't get my wand back for ages! You see, Tom has it because he is my master, and he dictates when I get to have it. Damn him. Harry Potter would never go through nearly half the pain growing up if I only had my damn wand!
I choke and spit up what amounts to a large pool of blood on the floor, and he has the nerve to laugh!
"Too bad really, you're useless...what a sorry excuse for a witch! Clean it up!"
"And how would you like me to do that, Tom?" I gurgle.
"How impolite! Now I'm sure you have manners in your mash-for-brains...use your wand you imbecile!"
"Better mash than a sick, twisted and sadistic mind! Or have you forgotten? Everyone you've murdered ... they havn't forgotten Tom!" My eyes begin to rolls back and my voice becomes clearer, as if there was no blood in my throat, and more monotone. "Many dead but not gone and waiting for business to be done...a deal once dealt...lives aligning like stars...only one can live – Ah! Hatred fills and history begins again. A death will be the catalyst but those wheels are in motion...by the new light of a dying month of the lion – death becomes everyone..." Bullocks I've done it again!
A/N: Sorry the chapters so short but it just seemed a good place to leave off, and I'm not sure if I should continue in Galara's POV or return to Hogwarts side of things...hope you liked it so far, please R&R!