As usual, my thanks to creelluka, LeeForShort and HT188. To the mysterious "guest", I'm sorry I couldn't reply by PM, but basically the idea is that Reg and Emma are more like Dumbledore and Grindelwald when they were young. So you'll see how that turns out for them soon ;)

PS. Voldemort is extremely hard to write, so go easy on him!

'Malfoy Manor,' Emma said clearly, stepping into the green flames.

It had been a few days since Sirius had left. Walburga was furious, but when Regulus said he had gone to Hogwarts to study for his OWLs she had calmed down. When Emma had later pointed out that she probably didn't believe it, Regulus had laughed, saying that his mother was happy once there was an excuse. It was easier to pretend. Emma didn't dare ask what was easier for Regulus to pretend. His Hogwarts mask had reappeared, and not even Kreacher could shake it off. They finished the Astronomy project, and convinced Kreacher to throw them balls to help practice Quidditch.

It took Sirius's disappearance and the house-elf for Emma to realise that her relationship with Regulus was mostly based on Quidditch, school and long periods of silence. She attempted to remedy this by chatting to Kreacher, who was more than happy to comply, with funny and sometimes embarrassing stories. He seemed to adore Regulus, which wasn't too surprising: he was the only one to pay attention to the elf. When he found out about the stories, whereas most wizards would force a beating, Regulus pulled Kreacher to the side and forbade him to say anything without his consent. Kreacher took this a little too literally, and Orion was not pleased with the suddenly silent house-elf.

After that, the house went cold. Kreacher limped around on hot-iron shoes, and for the first time since she had met him, Regulus looked close to crying. When Emma apologised, he brushed her off, but he softened when she found a healing spell in their library. It was amazing how many different types of silences that boy had.

The day of Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy's engagement party was upon them. It was the weekend before they had to go back to Hogwarts. Emma wasn't sure whether to feel apprehensive or happy. At least there's hope of some things working out, she thought. Narcissa would graduate that year, but she insisted on the marriage taking place only after her year in the Healing program. Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius's father, hadn't been too pleased with that. It was an arranged marriage, after all, and he was worried that Narcissa would find a way to get out of it. This was the agreement they had settled on, though it was obvious to anyone with eyes that Lucius had courted Narcissa until she fell in love with him. It couldn't be more different from her sister Bellatrix's relationship - that was a different story entirely.

'Emma!' Narcissa cried, bringing her back to the present. 'I'm so glad you could make it!'

Emma brushed off the ash from her robes and looked around. The manor looked much like her own home, though marble floors replaced the fluffy carpets and it didn't have the sense of home that the Potter's did. Huge windows ran from the floor to the ceiling, sending a flood of light into the room. To add to the brightness, airy white curtains billowed out. It was both simplistic and beautiful, though the room looked slightly empty. Emma supposed that the furniture had been moved to the side in preparation of the occasion. The only blonde of the Black family was standing in front of her in an elegant dress, and a ring that shined as brightly as her smile.

'Congratulations on your engagement,' she remembered to say, and Narcissa's smile widened.

'Come on, I'll show you around. The Carrows are here by the way, you might be happy to see Alecto,' the blonde girl (or woman, since she was already seventeen) took her by the arm. 'I feel like we haven't spoken in ages, though it's barely been a week. I guess that's what comes from me being in my N.E. year and you doing your O. .'

'But Regulus,' Emma said, half-turning. She didn't really want to abandon him with his parents. Though nice, his mother could be scary.

'Oh don't worry about him. My sister's husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, and his brother Rabastan will take care of him. Besides, he's been here before. But I think it's cute you're worried about your boyfriend.'

'My boyfriend?' Emma asked, surprised.

'Yeah, tell me all about it! Is it an arranged marriage like mine? I was so glad it ended up being Lucius, imagine being married to Crabbe or Goyle!' Narcissa laughed.

Emma thought of the hulking boys she privately thought must be part troll and shuddered. Luckily, they had left school a couple of years ago, and more importantly: her parents didn't believe in the whole "arranged-marriage" theory. I guess there are some perks to not caring about blood status, she thought.

'I think you may have got the wrong impression,' she said aloud as Alecto joined them.

'Come on,' the older girl wheedled. 'You can tell me, I won't repeat it around the school.'

'Tell her Alecto: Regulus and I aren't dating,' Emma appealed to her friend.

'The day those two get together, pigs will fly,' the redhead said matter-of-factly.

'But she spent the entire week at my cousin's house!' Narcissa pouted.

'Yeah, but that was because I needed someone to bring me to your party,' Emma explained. 'Avery said I had to come and my parents aren't -'

'Wait, what?' Alecto asked, suddenly very interested. 'Avery asked you to come? But I thought Narcissa...' she trailed off, giving the older girl an odd look.

'I sent an owl, but Potter answered for her,' Narcissa frowned. It was odd to hear James be called "Potter". 'I just assumed...'

'There you are,' Avery, the Slytherin Quidditch captain appeared next to them. He turned to Narcissa and kissed her hand. 'Congratulations on the engagement, Black. Malfoy's a good match for you: already in the Ministry at age 21, and well on the way to a promotion.'

'Thank you,' Narcissa said courteously.

'Potter, come with me.' He turned and left, expecting her to follow without glancing back. Alecto held her back.

'Tell me what he says to you, lucky,' she said in an undertone. 'But be careful about Avery. The things my brother tells me...'

And then Emma knew who she was going to meet. She cursed herself for not having realised before, and her mind started panicking. What am I going to do? Before she could formulate a plan, she found herself in a corridor surrounded by familiar faces. All of the sixth-years that had scared her in her first year were here, looking even more scary now they had grown up. They were looking at her expectantly, but she stupidly stood there, unsure of what to do. Fortunately for her, Lord Voldemort was not one to waste time on unimportant business.

'In here,' a voice called, and she was ushered into a small study-like room.

It provided a sharp contrast to the rest of the Manor. If the situation had been any less dire, Emma would have giggled and made a remark about it looking like Abraxas Malfoy's secret lair. The shutters were closed and the fireplace lit, giving the room an odd half-light. There was a faint smell of cigars in the air, whereas the rest of the house smelt like the fresh flowers that had been artistically placed in vases around the rooms. Here there were no flowers. There weren't even any pictures, nor family photos. A chest with seven locks was placed in a corner, and the desk was covered in neat stacks of paper.

But Emma's assessment of the room seemed to fade upon seeing the infamous Dark Lord. A man was sitting in the high-backed chair, his hands casually placed on the armrests. He was handsome, in a certain kind of way: tall, with jet black hair and aristocratic features that reminded her of the Black family. The similarities stopped there though. Lord Voldemort had bright red eyes with snake-like pupils, and his skin was so pale it was nearly translucent. Still, he radiated some sort of charm and ease that made you feel like you were in the presence of greatness. A thrill ran through her spine, though of fear or excitement, she couldn't tell.

'Do I live up to the tales?' he asked sardonically as she stared.

'Yes,' Emma said before she could stop herself and blushed.

'Avery tells me that you're interested in my ideas,' he said. He spoke softly, but his words were as clear as if he had been whispering in her ear. 'Normally, I would let you prove yourself along with the rest of them, but your circumstances are rather…particular.' He paused. 'Your parents are unpronounced on the matter of the current political situation, yes?'

'You could say that,' Emma replied diplomatically, the knot in her stomach curling tightly. What did he want with her?

'You're probably wondering why you are here,' he voiced her thoughts. 'Tell me, Emma Potter. Why did you do what you did to Harold Miller?'

'I hate Mudbloods,' she said automatically. This had been a favourite topic of discussion among the older Slytherins of late. 'He thought he was better than any pureblood Slytherin, so I cursed him.'

'Tell me the real reason he provoked you,' he leaned forwards, his mouth curling up in one corner.

'James hexed him, so he thought he could get back at him through me, so I hexed him,' Emma corrected herself. She couldn't break her gaze away from his eyes.

'True,' Lord Voldemort said. 'Now, tell me the real reason you cursed him.'

'I -' she started, but the eyes boring into her made it impossible to lie. Her voice grew small. 'I hated feeling powerless. I hated him even more for seeing the weakness.'

She blushed as the words came out, thanking Merlin once more that her fellow Slytherins had seen nothing of the ordeal. In truth, in the moment she hadn't cared what blood type he was, just that she wanted to make him pay. Lord Voldemort smiled, seemingly pleased with the response.

'That's what I wanted to hear,' he said. 'I see potential in you, Emma Potter.'

He called the others back in. 'Time to put on a little show. Carrow, are you ready to earn your Mark?'

Amycus had entered along with Rodolphus and Bellatrix (now) Lestrange. He nodded eagerly. He's already a Death Eater, Emma thought. What is this about a mark? She knew that there were various ranks in the Dark Lord's followers. The useful, but weak were allowed the special robes. Apparently, though they were black, they were unlike any other robe. Then there was the mask. The closer you got to Lord Voldemort, the riskier your position became. The mask was to protect you from the Ministry's extreme actions. Finally, there was the inner circle. Emma knew Lucius and Bellatrix belonged to it, but it mostly remained a mystery. To many Slytherins, this was the height of ambition, and of pride. This inner circle was where the real magic happened.

'Potter, Carrow, you know the rules of duelling. Now forget them. Disable your opponent by any means necessary.'

'But she's just a girl,' Amycus said, face falling. Emma looked alarmed: a duel? With a seventh-year? Lord Voldemort nodded to Bellatrix.

'Diffindo,' she said carelessly, and Alecto's brother pulled his arm towards him, drawing in a sharp gasp of pain.

'I need people that can take this war seriously and are capable fighters. We could meet resistance, and resistance with magic. The loser will become... intimately acquainted with Bellatrix,' Voldemort said shortly.

The curly-haired witch thanked him breathlessly. Merlin, Sirius was right. She's insane. However, Emma didn't have time to think about the unfairness or the unexpectedness of this duel. Survive first, think later. This is unreal...

They duelled: Amycus lashing out with hex after hex, and Emma dodging most of them, repelling others. Lots were non-verbal: Amycus was in his seventh year. She couldn't get a spell in edgeways, but Amycus wasn't getting anywhere either and was visibly becoming more and more frustrated. Maybe I can just wait until he tires out, she thought. The boy wasn't exactly fit, and was already wheezing from their dance around the small room. She hid behind a couch, thinking. He seemed to predict every spell she knew, and she hadn't started non-verbal classes yet. I need an angle, she thought. Something he won't expect.

'Stop cheating!' Amycus complained, reducing the couch to ash.

Emma grabbed a book from the desk and threw it at him with all of the strength Quidditch had given her. He stumbled back in surprise and it hit him in the shoulder, knocking his wand arm off-balance. Perfect. They hadn't learnt the spell to bind hands yet, though James had used it on her during several of their mock-duels, but she could transfigure some pens into rope and magically wrap it around his hands and feet.

'Silencio!' she said quickly before he could think of a spell, feeling proud of herself.

Amycus struggled angrily for a while with his bonds until he slumped over, defeated. Emma plucked his wand out of his grasp before undoing the charm.

'I give up,' he said, panting heavily. 'Untie me.'

She did as he asked, and turned triumphantly to where Lord Voldemort was watching, but he looked at her coolly with his eerie red eyes. Suddenly, she was tackled to the ground, biting her tongue as she landed. Amycus was wrestling his wand out of her grasp.

'Diffindo!' he used the same spell as Bellatrix on her wand arm and she dropped it with a hiss of pain. He then did something she didn't expect at all: punched her in the face. She tasted blood as her head made contact with the floor.

'What the hell?' she asked, but the Death Eaters looked at her silently. Disable your opponent by any means necessary. She shouldn't have let Amycus go. But it wasn't fair, the duel was over! She turned back to Amycus, but he was looking murderously at her, probably furious at being humiliated by a fifth-year.

'Deprimo!' he shouted, seeming to have forgotten that he could do non-verbal spells.

Emma's eyes widened and she scrabbled out of the way, but her foot got caught by the ray of light. Something invisible and heavy pressed down on it excruciatingly until her ankle broke with a loud crack. Amycus grinned with sadistic pleasure. Her earlier fear returned: this is real to him, she thought. Maybe more real than anything else. Too late, she remembered a story Alecto had told her about Amycus pulling legs and wings off of flies and watching them wriggle around. No wonder people are scared of Slytherins, she thought, when Amycus is in this mood.

Her fear gave her strength and she dived for her wand, Amycus firing spells at her all the while, but it also made her angry. She remembered what Lord Voldemort had talked about and realised that it was a test to see how she would react under pressure. He had probably planned for this to happen all along. Well, I'll give him his show, she thought furiously. In Quidditch James often took Bludgers to be able to score another goal for Gryffindor. Emma was always too scared to get hurt, because the injury wasn't worth the penalty to her playing. For the first time, she understood why he was a better Chaser: it was better to take a hit if it enabled you to win the game.

She dragged herself to her feet, ignoring the sharp pain that lanced up her leg. She didn't mind the pain. In fact, she could hardly feel it, her mind was clear as the world was reduced to her and her objective. She barely felt the Flipendo jinx push her back into the wall, but she would later remember how easily her own curse came to her lips.

'Crucio.'

She thrust out a hand to balance herself, but her concentration was on the Unforgivable Curse. Initially used because she doubted Amycus could protect himself against it, she fed all of her pain and frustration into the curse, maintaining it for twenty seconds before it died out. Not wanting to risk turning her back again she performed the simple, but effective "Petrificus Totalus" charm. Only then did she relax, looking Lord Voldemort dead in the eyes, too tired and hurt to worry about the consequences of her actions.

'Happy now?' she said in a cocky voice that James would be proud of.

'How dare you speak to the Dark Lord -' Bellatrix started furiously.

'No,' Lord Voldemort held out a hand. 'Go. I want a word alone with Miss Potter.'

The Death Eaters filed out, and Lord Voldemort stepped closer. 'The hood is yours, if you wish it, but I have a better suited reward in mind. If you help out my campaign, I can teach you magic other wizards only dream of. But you are of no use to me while you act like a schoolgirl. You must learn to control your emotions, or they will hamper your abilities. Avery!' he called in the seventh-year, who seemed to have been loitering outside the door.

'Yes, my Lord?' Avery asked respectfully, keeping his eyes down.

'Escort Miss Potter back to Grimmauld Place. Give the Blacks' my regards: their children have done them proud. Oh, and Emma?' he said as an afterthought. 'I've taken Avery's word that you are someone to be trusted. Do not make me doubt that word, or there will be…consequences.'

Avery visibly gulped. When Emma took too long limping out of the study, he swung her into his arms as easily as if she were a child and almost ran into the more welcoming part of the Manor. The corridor was deserted now; Emma wondered how long she had been in there for.

'You'd better remember those words, Potter,' Avery warned her. 'My father and I have gone out on a limb for you.'

'Why?' she asked. It wasn't as if she had been the most vehement in her hatred for Muggles, or love for pure-bloods. Her brother was even in Gryffindor.

'My father thinks your family could have a huge influence on the wizarding way of thinking. They're from respectable pure-blood families, but have stayed neutral throughout the crisis with Grindelwald in their youth, and even now they haven't said anything. Personally, I'm not blind. Your brother is one of the best wizards of our generation and he seems to be the only one with any control over Black. And besides,' he gave her one of his rare smiles. 'I've never seen anyone use the Beetle Curse until you appeared. We're taught that it passed out of common usage.'

They entered the anti-chamber to the ballroom, where Regulus and Rabastan were chatting in the corner. Regulus noticed them and hurried over. Emma felt slightly self-conscious at being held like an oversized-baby, but it was true her foot wouldn't support the slightest bit of pressure.

'Emma?' he asked, looking worried. 'What the hell did you do to her?' he demanded, turning on Avery, eyes sleet-grey with anger.

'Relax,' Avery said, unperturbed. He handed Emma over to Regulus like an object. 'She can't walk, but she won the duel. Make sure you get that ankle looked into, we've got practice next week on Tuesday,' he winked at her, and her anger for him evaporated.

'I wish you'd take better care of yourself,' Regulus complained as he walked towards the fireplace, touching her swollen cheek. 'Lucky for you, Kreacher knows a few healing spells.'

'Ouch! Just get me home already,' she said crossly.

'So you got initiated, did you?' Regulus asked, as Kreacher dabbed Emma's face with various creams and ointments.

They were in Regulus's room, since he was unwilling to leave until she was healed. It was also the first time they had properly spoken since she had lied to him. For the moment, his concern was overriding his disappointment. Emma realised that she had acted coldly towards him too, the guilt making her put up barriers. I've got to stop acting so defensively, she thought.

'How do you know that?' Emma replied with a question of her own. Maybe not today.

'My parents took me over the Christmas holidays,' he replied, his mouth twisting contemptuously. 'They wanted me to make a good impression. Avery wanted me to tell the Dark Lord about your bug-transfiguration.'

'I thought you wanted to be a Death Eater,' Emma frowned, ignoring the reference to Miller. Regulus's aspiration to found a world where wizards ruled over Muggles was one of the subjects he talked freely about, and she never tired of hearing of it. It was one of the things that had drawn them close: something between the two extremes.

'I do but...' Regulus sighed. 'It's just that they're so big on the purity thing. I want to make a difference: a place to live for magical creatures, the end of the secrecy pact, rights for House Elves,' he gestured to Kreacher who beamed. 'I mean of course there would be no way I'd associate with a Muggleborn, but it's more for them than it is for me. I just wish they'd stop -'

'Comparing you to Sirius?' Emma finished, remembering a similar conversation with his brother.

'Exactly. I had to win their affection, earn their respect. Sirius does whatever the hell he likes and they still forgive him. I'm sure that if I did half the things he did, I'd have been blasted off of the wall already,' he rolled his eyes. 'He doesn't realise how spoiled he is.'

Emma grunted in response, unsure of how to reply and unwilling to break the thin ice she was walking on.

'Anyway,' Regulus said, lost in his memories. 'The Dark Lord thinks I'm dedicated. He thinks I'm like Bellatrix.'

'Are you?' Emma asked.

'Are you kidding?' Regulus laughed. 'No matter the cost now, once he's firmly established his power, it'll be a better world for both wizards and Muggles. You have to feel kind of sorry for them, don't you? Muggles, I mean. They don't know about magic. I don't think I could live without it.'

'I feel worse for Squibs,' Emma said. 'They know what magic is and can't use it.' She shuddered. 'I would hate that. I don't know what I would do.'

They sat in silence for a while, even after Kreacher had finished mending Emma's wounds.

'Don't you find it scary how Lord Voldemort seems to be able to read minds?' Emma asked hesitantly. 'It was as though he was staring into my soul.'

'The Dark Lord can use Legilimency and Bellatrix has been teaching me Occlumency ever since she found out how to use it too,' Regulus explained, before adding. 'You'll probably need to learn it too, if you want to join up. If people can read you, then they can use you. Your feelings makes you vulnerable.'

Emma remembered what Voldemort had said about controlling her emotions. It was true that what couldn't touch you didn't hurt you. Is that why Regulus hides his all the time? But I know that he cares about his friends. I'm sure Rabastan does too.

'I'm just worried that I won't be able to,' she said, making an effort to open up, since he so rarely did. 'James is the brave one in our family. I guess that's why he's in Gryffindor. Besides, I…My parents are really anti-Voldemort, and I'm not sure I could go against them, even if it's to help the wizards. It's messed up: even though I know what I have to do, I just don't. It's frustrating. I just wish they could understand that.'

'When we came back from Hogwarts for the first time, my mother beat Sirius for being placed in Gryffindor,' he said. 'Our dad was away, and she was just so mad. Sirius was begging for help, for anyone to hear him, but I stayed in my room doing nothing, listening to our mother insult him. It was only when I heard her go back down the stairs that I dared go across the hall. I brought him hot water, and bandaged him up as well as I could, but it wasn't enough. He just sat there crying, and I told him about all of the good things there were in Gryffindor. When the tears dried up, he just looked at me and told me to get out. I wasn't there when he needed me because I was too afraid of our parents to help my own brother.'

'I didn't know that.'

'That's because I've never told anybody,' he replied. 'Sometimes your family is the one that's messed up.'