TW: This story contains heavy manipulation of a mentally ill child by an adult. It also contains violent/grotesque scenes later. Reader beware.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will ever, own the Harry Potter series, or any of its characters and plots.

Rose

The door shut behind them, and she blinked, looking up at the vaguely familiar man.

His violet-blue eyes studied her for a moment before he held out his hand.

"Hello, my name is Mr Aeson." He greeted.

Voldemort turned, looking at her.

"You're a mindhealer." She blurted out, ignoring his hand.

Mr Aeson nodded once, a friendly smile on his lips that looked out of place next to Voldemort.

"May I ask how you know that?"

His hand fell back to his side, but she didn't respond.

Why was a mindhealer here, of all places? Was he being held captive as well, or was he already inducted into Voldemort's regime? Was he here to try to break her mind? She figured a Cruciatus curse would be a faster way to that.

"Hm… well, you looked famished. How long has it been since you've eaten, Rose?"

She flinched at her name, lifting her eyes to his.

"I'm not insane." She said instead.

Mr Aeson gave her a patient smile.

"I know."

He abruptly turned, walking away. When he had turned the corner, she turned on Voldemort with a glare.

"Why haven't you killed me yet? What are you playing at?" She demanded rudely, despising the amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"I have no intention of killing you anymore." He replied, easily deflecting her accusation.

She scoffed.

"Yeah, right. You've been trying to kill me since I was born!" She paused, and then snapped, "If you're trying to get me to 'join' you, or whatever, you'd be better off killing me!"

It was Voldemort's turn to scoff, and he reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. She tried to back away, but his hand tightened, preventing her from moving without hurting herself.

"If I wanted you dead, Potter, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Then, why?!" She shouted, fully expecting him to brush her off and walk away like everyone else had done all of her life.

"I heard the full prophecy regarding us before you ever stepped foot into the Ministry yesterday, and I've deemed it useless. You've been raised to become a weapon, for a war that you never had any ties in. My quarrel is with Dumbledore and his brainwashed Order members, not with a girl not even old enough to apparate." He told her bluntly, and then released her shoulder.

Rose glared at him, anger and confusion making her head spin.

"You killed my parents." She said coldly. "You destroyed any chance of me having a normal life!"

Voldemort held up his hand to stop her, his red eyes narrowed.

"You set me back thirteen years. In that time, my forces were scattered, and Dumbledore infiltrated the Ministry with his own people – most of them too incompetent to notice a child being abused under their very noses!"

He paused, the anger in his eyes calming after a moment of silence.

"You were never going to have a normal life, Potter. You were born to two of Dumbledore's greatest fighters. Even if the prophecy had spoken of the other child, you still would've been drafted into the war, and most likely had died very shortly after reaching maturity."

'Just like your parents' went unsaid, and Rose was torn between that and the apparent compliment he'd just given her parents.

"They died because of you." She whispered, lowering her eyes. "Cedric… Sirius…"

Her vision blurred with tears at the remembrance of her godfather.

"Every cause is going to have bloodshed. You've been indoctrinated with Dumbledore's message since you were eleven and have yet to give any thought to what I am fighting for."

She opened her mouth to retort, but he suddenly turned, striding away. She instantly followed him, wiping her face.

"So, you are trying to recruit me. Again." She added, feeling a strange sort of amusement rising up in her chest.

This, she decided, was better than facing her loss head on. She'd done enough crying the past year.

"No. This place is separated from the war. You may see my Death Eaters here, but they are as real as any dream you might have within this place. You, I, and Mr Aeson are the only corporeal people here."

They came to a pair of double doors, and Voldemort stopped, turning to looking into her eyes.

"I'm not going to lie. You are a huge player in the war, whether you want to be or not. Consider this a… ceasefire. Whilst you are here, learning about my goals and ideals, you will not come to any harm."

"And what about my friends?" Rose spoke up, clenching her jaw. "What about the rest of the world? You'll keep me trapped in here while you take over?"

Voldemort smirked, and the gleam in his eyes made a chill run down her spine.

She clenched her jaw, refusing to back down. She didn't want any more people to die for her.

"Give me a list of five people that you don't want harmed." He offered.

She blanched.

"Five? So, the rest of the world can burn?" She shrieked.

His answering laugh was cold, unamused. Rose knew she was pushing her luck, but she'd never backed down from a fight.

For the first time, she wondered where they'd hidden her wand.

"Give me at least ten! I-I don't even know where to start!" She insisted.

He tilted his head, observing her closely.

"Seven. The most powerful magical number of all." Voldemort said.

She wanted to argue more, but, from the look in his eyes, it seemed that he was just as quick to revoke the offer if she did. She hated to choose, but… but at least seven people would be safe from him.

"Okay…" She whispered, looking down at her shaking hands.

He smiled, but it was far from the gentle one Mr Aeson had given her.

She wanted to ask about the mindhealer, but then, the doors swung open, revealing a highly decorated dining room. Every chair was full except the one at the head of the table, and the one on its immediate left.

She recognized a few of them (Bellatrix, Lucius Malfoy, the man from her room, Mr Aeson), but the others, she didn't.

Voldemort brushed passed her, going to the seat at the head of the table. He didn't force her to sit, and she supposed she could go back to her room… but there was a curiosity rising up inside of her.

She still didn't forgive him for killing her parents, but she couldn't deny that she wanted to know what they stood for.

Why were they fighting so hard? What were they fighting for?

She ignored Voldemort's smirk as she took the seat on his left. She felt a little more at ease, knowing that the Death Eaters weren't really there. It made restraining herself from punching Bellatrix's smug smile a whole lot easier.

"Introduce yourself to our guest." Voldemort ordered.

Jareb

He stared blankly at Mr Aeson, as the man had introduced himself as, not really listening to him go on and on about something or another.

Voldemort sat nearby, close enough to hear, but far enough away not to immediately set off his flight or fight.

Jareb picked at his thumb nail, watching Mr Aeson's lips move. It was hard to remember what had already been said, but that was no matter.

It was when the lips stopped moving, an expectant look coming over his face, that Jareb finally reacted.

He stood up, overturning the table and its content with a wave of his arm.

"This is fucking stupid." He told them before he turned, walking to one of the shelves.

"Rose-"

"Don't call me that. My name is Jareb." He swiftly interrupted Mr Aeson, brushing his fingers against the spines of the books.

He could feel the surprise in the room at his announcement, despite having his back to them.

"Jareb, then. Why don't you sit?" Mr Aeson soothed.

"Our magic is getting restless." Jareb said instead, turning to look at Voldemort, completely ignoring Mr Aeson. "If you want us to be of any use to you, you'll return our wand." He added, walking towards the Dark Lord.

Voldemort didn't even bother to stand, watching him approach with amused eyes.

"Did you manage to form that list, yet?" He asked instead, and Jareb rolled his eyes.

"You misunderstand me, Dark Lord. I have no interest in your politics."

He leaned down, levelling their faces only a few inches apart.

"Unless you want your pretty little palace turned into rubble, you'll grant us a place to properly exercise our magic."

Voldemort studied his face for a long moment.

"Kneel." He commanded in a hiss.

Jareb sneered, and he stood up straight, spreading his arms out to either side.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the study, ruffling the pages of the books he'd thrown onto the ground. As quickly as it'd begun, the rush of magic was gone.

Jareb stared at Mr Aeson, who'd pulled a bell from his robes and had rang it once during his outburst.

"Why don't you sit?" Mr Aeson repeated, this time a bit forceful.

Jareb didn't move, his eyes locked on the small, silver bell. He didn't know how or why, but the strong emotions that had ripped through him previously were gone. He felt calm. Focused.

"No." He said, but the word lacked conviction.

The goal that had been lain out in his mind was gone. What was he so intent on fighting them for? Why wasn't he submitting?

"Why not?" Mr Aeson encouraged, a smile on his face that looked entirely natural.

Jareb found himself staring into his eyes, utterly entranced. He blinked, oblivious to the minutes that had flown by in his silence.

"You're brainwashing us." He said, but even with this knowledge, he couldn't find it in himself to look away.

Mr Aeson laughed, but it wasn't cruel or demeaning.

"I'm here to help you, not brainwash you." He replied easily.

Jareb shook his head, clenching his left hand into a fist. The small prick of his nails digging into his palm made his mind clear, and he looked away.

"You're going to make us whole." He concluded, forcing himself to stare at the mess he'd made to avoid looking at Mr Aeson.

A grin spread across his face, and the resounding laugh echoed around the room.

"He's going to eat you alive." He said and diminished into hysterical laughter until Voldemort saw no choice but to stun him.

A/N: Thanks for reading; reviews are always appreciated!