I was escorted to the house that had stood in the dark distance of the field. Upon entering the house, I was lead to an unoccupied sitting room, where the door was promptly shut and I presumed locked. The room was decorated in shades of dark mahogany wood, rich emerald green fabrics and black and silver accents. There was no doubt in mind that I was in Bellatrix Lestrange's house.
I admit, I didn't think my plan through. It was impulsive and foolish, but I felt it was the only option I had left. The only place left to go was directly to the source. I felt so helpless and desperate to find Carrigan that I was ready to do anything to get her back, even if that meant confronting my father.
As I stood in the sitting room, looking around at the ornate furniture and décor, I prepared myself for the fact that I may never leave the room again. It was very possible that I was going to die in this room. I gazed out the window as the thought pondered in my mind. Gabriel was going to kill me when I got home if Voldemort didn't kill me here.
The door to the sitting room opened and I turned on my heel with some surprise. A tall, dark man entered the room, looking me up and down with curious eyes. I was bewildered to see anyone but my father enter the room. I crossed my arms over my chest as the man closed the door and turned to face me.
He was a massive man. At least six feet, four inches, he strode across the room towards me with long footsteps. He was muscular, broad shouldered; his stature was imposing to say the least. He came to stand in front of me, studying me with dark grey eyes that matched his long graying hair, which was a contrast against his dark tanned skin. He wore traditional Death Eater robes, but no mask.
"Unless you've had fantastic plastic surgery, you are not my father," I snapped.
"My name is Dorian Levette," he said in a delicate French accent that made my senses spike up instantly. "I understand you wish to speak to your father?"
"What are you, his secretary?" I questioned sarcastically. "Censoring his appointments now?"
"Your sarcasm is noted, Kieran," Levette said with a bow of his head. His politeness was misleading to me. I took a step back as he continued to stare me straight in the eye. "But, you must know that it is not that simple. You can't just Apparate into a field, get caught by Death Eaters and demand to see the Dark Lord, father or not."
"So, you're not going to take me to him?"
"The Dark Lord does not answer to you, Kieran," Levette's voice had grown stern. "If he wishes to see you, he will come."
"Well, I don't have all day to wait around. If he's not coming, I'm leaving."
Dorian smiled. "You didn't honestly think you'd be leaving here when you came, did you?"
"Do you really think I would be willingly caught by Death Eaters, if I didn't have a plan to escape?" I bluffed.
"You're a terrible liar, princess."
I didn't hesitate. I balled my fist and socked Dorian Levette straight across the face, slamming him in the jaw viciously. He took the hit and stumbled backwards, but did not fall to the floor. He laughed as he regained his composure and fixed his robe.
"The rumors of your short temper are true," he smirked. "You're a great deal like your father."
"I suppose tempers are hereditary," I retorted ignoring the insult. I didn't want Levette to realize how deeply his words hurt; I was nothing like my father. If he knew how much he perturbed me, or angered me, it would only make him happier.
"Yes, they must be. Your daughter is just as short tempered," he commented. I froze, glaring at him. He was teasing me. He knew why I had come and why I wanted to see Voldemort. He was mentioning Carrigan to tease me into letting my guard down.
"I raised her well."
"Well, Kieran," he sighed with boredom, ignoring my comment as if I hadn't spoken. He was not going to give anything else away concerning Carrigan. "While I do find your presence charming, I have other matters to attend to. What is it that you want?"
"You really have to ask?" I said surprised. "I came to speak to my father."
"Other then that, Kieran. You try my patients. What did you want to speak to the Dark Lord about?"
I raised my eyebrows. Something wasn't right. It had to be obvious what I wanted to speak to Voldemort about. "I want to speak to him about the twelve girls he's kidnapped, specially my daughter!"
It was Dorian Levette's turn to look surprised, but he recovered quickly and smirked. "I'm not sure what sort of game you're playing, Kieran."
"Excuse me?"
"She hasn't made it home yet," Levette whispered with realization. He smirked and nodded his head as he turned his eyes away from me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at him.
"Yet?" I questioned confused.
"Your daughter escaped a week ago," Levette said matter-of-factly, looking back to me. His grey eyes were so blank and stern looking they caused my heart to skip a beat.
A hole formed in my stomach; I was full of ambivalence, joy and fear at the same time. Carrigan had escaped Voldemort, but she wasn't home yet. What if she had been recaptured? What if she was lost in France somewhere? What if Dorian Levette was lying?
"When you were moving her to France," I muttered as I looked up at Levette.
"That is very presumptuous of you, Kieran."
I bit my lip with aggravation as my mind raced with more questions then answers. Levette was being evasive and annoying. He wasn't going to help me and I certainly did not expect him to take me to my father. It was obvious that Voldemort wasn't willing to see me, which spoke volumes about his cowardice.
It didn't matter. There was nothing left at the house for me. In my opinion, the conversation with Dorian Levette was over. I looked up at Levette with dark eyes, he lunged for his wand because he could tell I was going to try something. He didn't have a chance. In my rage of disappointment because he wasn't any help to me, I imagined his body burning before me. Within a matter of seconds, Levette's body erupted in hot red flames—he cried out instantly and plunged down to the ground, where he began to roll, trying to put out the fire that was engulfing him.
I didn't wait. I pivoted, as my cloak billowed around me, and dashed for the front window of the sitting room. I jumped through it, holding my arms over my face as I broke through the glass. I tumbled into the flowerbed outside of the window and rolled to the ground. There was a terrible pop and searing pain in my shoulder, which made me groan as I stood up from the dirt and roses. I didn't look back and began to ran away from the house. I didn't stop until I was in the field and sure that I was far enough from the house to not be blocked from Disapparating.
Thank Merlin that worked, I thought as I ran away. I could feel the heat of the flames overtaking the house on my back as I moved away. It had been years, maybe even decades, since I had conjured fire. The fact that I was able to do it so quickly was a pleasing surprise. It seemed the night was lucky.
When I turned back to look at the house, which was now engrossed in flames on the first floor, I saw a dark skinny figure standing in front of it as it burned. The red eyes of my father were unmistakable, even in the darkness. I held my breath and turned away from the sight.
When I turned away, I ran straight into the firm body of someone in the darkness. I fell back onto the ground of the field and looked up in horrified shock at my father who had silently appeared in front of me as I turned my back on his burning hideout.
"You never cease to surprise me, Kieran," Voldemort said in his high-pitched voice. It was the first time my father had addressed me since he tied me to a tombstone and used my blood to return to power over a year ago. "You continue to be a thorn in my side. You kill all of my best Death Eaters, now you've killed Levette, who was most important to me, and burnt down Bella's house…"
"You shouldn't have kidnapped my daughter," I spat. "That was your mistake."
"I don't make mistakes," Voldemort waved his hand in front of me. Magically, something invisible clasped around my throat, pressing my windpipe. I thrashed around at my neck, trying to break free of the invisible force as it choked me. I was lifted from the ground, as if Voldemort was picking me up by the throat, and held in front of him. He lifted his hand in the air slightly, effortlessly lifting me off the ground with his magic. "Bringing Ciar home was necessary."
"Ciar?" I choked. "Is that what you call her, you sick bastard?"
His invisible grip tightened on my throat as I dangled in the air in front of him, squirming like a worm on a hook, caught and unable to get free. My mind raced as I desperately thought of a way that I could get out of this situation.
Voldemort lowered his arm and dropped me out of the air. I crumbled onto the ground in front of him and landed harshly only my dislocated shoulder that I had cracked when I escaped the house. Voldemort stepped forward, his black robe billowing as he moved, and roughly stomped his booted foot down onto my injured shoulder. I cried out and fell back under his foot.
"You're not going to get out of this situation," Voldemort hissed as he pulled out his wand. He took two steps back as he continued to talk. I withered on my back on the ground, glaring at him as he moved away from me. My mind was racing, perhaps my luck had run out; my body raged at me though. I couldn't just lay down and die. I had to get up and fight for my life, for Carrigan. "Ciar escaped while she was being moved to France. You were right, but you were foolish to come here. Ciar is mine now."
"HER NAME IS CARRIGAN!" I screamed as I pulled my wand and sat up. "And she'll never be yours!"
The next few things happened simultaneously. There was a loud cracking and thumping sound and the earth shook beneath me as Voldemort lunged forward screaming, "Avada Kedavra!"
But a figure had appeared between my father and I, and the green killing curse parted around the new arrival. I had only seen something like that happen once before; my mouth dropped open as I stood up, clutching my arm against my chest so my shoulder wouldn't move. Voldemort was caught off guard and stood, frozen with cold fear in his red eyes as he looked at the figure in front of me. The figure, who I did not recognize from behind, clapped their hands together. A large blue ball of glowing energy grew in front of them and they threw it straight at Voldemort. It hit him straight in the chest and sent him flying backwards one hundred feet.
The figure turned, their black leather cloak, which I recognized as Sirius Black's, dramatically twirled around them.
"Mom!"
I didn't even recognize the figure as Carrigan as she dashed to me. She was taller and her head was completely shaven. At first glance, I would have guessed she was a teenage boy. But when she got closer, I saw her eyes and knew it was her. Her beautiful, almond shaped, dark midnight blue eyes were twinkle at me.
"We have to get out of here!"
There was no time to speak. My mouth opened slightly to say something to her as she grabbed me, but no words came out. Carrigan looked over her shoulder in the direction that Voldemort had gone flying, then back at me. Without another comment, she squeezed my arm and closed her eyes. We Disapparated with a loud crack!
