Title: The Ebony Chasm of Morn
Chapter 3
By: VenusIsKnownForFlyTraps (Esperanza-Loco)
A/N: I am back! And I am also rejuvenated with artistic ability and greatness as I have just seen Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix movie, which totally rocks. My favorite part was Luna and her awesomely cool shoes (poor Luna). I also really liked the part in the Department of Mysteries. I definitely recommend it, even if it does skip out in some parts. And also, by the time this is posted, I will have gotten the new Harry Potter book squeal. I ordered it early so all I have to do is get a ride to go pick it up. Yay!
"We have something Voldemort doesn't have."
"And what would that be?"
"Love."
Voldemort growled silently upon hearing the conversation going on in his loathsome Harry's head. Harry didn't know that he had made a new connection so now he could peep in whenever he wanted.
That bloody brat … shows how much he knows, Voldemort thought sourly, pushing himself up from the thrown-like chair he was seated in.
He heard a timid knock upon his thick mahogany door and swiftly – in a way that almost made it seem like he was floating like a Dementor – opened it to reveal his daughter, one of the only two he loved and would gladly die for if it meant she were safe.
"Dearest?" he asked, Nagini slithering up to greet the princess.
"When are we to go, Dada?"
He smiled softly. It was just like her to be about business when he was having an inner turmoil-causing problem.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he couldn't help but make sure.
She nodded slightly, her eyes emotionless yet there was a genuine smile on her face.
Voldemort felt like crying.
He had a special connection with his lovely daughter, which was perfectly fine and he loved the bond they had, he truly did, but it hurt her. He didn't want her to be hurt. The connection caused all his pain – physical and emotional – to be sent directly to her, behind her eyes, to be more exact. He didn't know if this had some type of meaning or not, like if that was so she could see what was truly happening in the world, or even something as simple as because then she herself could not give looks of hate to others. There was one thing he knew though.
She was going blind.
The pain would pulsate in the veins behind her retinas and push behind her eyes, cutting off the blood going to her eyes, so the emotion would only shine through for a half a second, then that little bit of blood would be used up and her eyes would go blank as her own pain filled her eyes. But she never, ever complained.
That made him want to cry even more.
"So when are we going?" she asked, ignoring his sadness that was flowing through her and snapping him out of his stupor.
"Now, I suppose. We don't want to miss the train."
She nodded again, coming through the door all the way and standing before him as he pulled out his wand while taking a step back.
"This will feel strange for a moment," he said softly to her.
She nodded, and he did the spell with fluent speed, causing her muscles to ripple underneath her skin and her bones to stretch in an uncomfortable and near-painful way, all the pain and discomfort going straight to her golden snake eyes. She felt her clothes tightening and her skin searing for a moment as it tried to stretch and her fingers got even more spider-like. Nagini hissed approvingly as she unbent herself (she hadn't even realized she had bent down to kneel to keep herself from falling), glancing fondly at what stood before her.
Where the young six-year-old Orochimaru once stood there was now a taller, eleven-year-old version of her. She glanced down at her hands, her spidery fingers flexing and adjusting to the new length. Her clothes hugged her tightly, she noted, but that was why she had worn older robes.
"Will I be in need of books?" She was surprised by her own voice, but didn't show it. She must show no weakness. Her voice was now more mature, and she couldn't help but bring her artistic hands up to her face to feel her soft, porcelain skin that was still that shade, she was pretty sure.
Her father smiled. "No, I have already had Bella fetch them. We may go straight there; she will meet us."
Orochimaru nodded slightly, excusing herself from the room and going to change into new robes that fit better, and getting a good look at herself in the mirror. She sighed. This was going to be a long year.
"Bella! Where are you going?" Draco Malfoy asked harshly, jogging in his new robes to catch up with the psycho btch that was supposed to bring him to the train station so he could go to Hogwarts; he was self-capable, but he did need someone with him every once in a while. The psycho btch had changed her look to bring him to the station; she had straightened her hair and put on different -- lighter -- make up, along with a nice black robe with a blue dress shirt and pin-stripe pants under it.
"Shh! Quiet down, brat. We're waiting," she hushed quietly and strictly. She'd been loopy ever since Azkaban, so he wasn't too worried, though what did worry him was how serious she was. She was only this serious if it was something big that had to do with the Dark Lord.
"Who are we waiting for?" he whispered; he knew when to follow directions.
She looked around, as if to make sure everything was safe, and then replied, "The Lord and Mistress."
He stared at her. He knew the Lord she was talking about was Voldemort, but who was this Mistress? Wait a second… Hadn't Bella once said the Dark Lord had a daughter? Oh Shoot…
"Lestrange," a voice that Draco didn't recognize said sternly.
"My Lord," she replied respectfully, bowing slightly as to not make a skeptical in public.
Draco's eyes widened as he quickly looked to the Dark Lord. Oh wow… Voldemort had changed his look to a normal looking person, with light – yet slightly tanned – skin and dark blackish brown hair and dark eyes that seemed to merely gleam red in the right light. He wore plain black robes with black underneath, and looked to be about maybe in his mid-twenties or early thirties (1).
"…and my lovely mistress," Bella added quickly, bowing again only to the young girl that stood next to Voldemort's new disguised form. The "Lovely Mistress" was a girl of about eleven wearing plain black robes with a green shirt underneath and simple black pants, and golden snake-like eyes that seemed to see everything and taught you, yet they held nothing in them. Her skin was the equivalent to unused American printer paper, white and unmarred, and she looked rather fragile. Her silky-looking black hair was long and went down to just above her butt, and it covered her right eye in the way it was combed, though it was natural looking, like it normally parted like that. There was an aura about her that Draco just couldn't place, but it seemed almost… regal.
He quickly (to some extent) bowed too to show his respect to the both of them.
"Come, brat," Bella said to him after he quickly ended his bow and they walked off, Bella and Draco behind Voldemort and the girl, which he vaguely remembered being named Orochimaru or something like that. The both of them looked so regal, walking like they owned the world and knew it.
Soon they will, Draco thought to the slightly saddening fact, but then hastily mentally shook that thought from his mind. One never knew when the Dark Lord was listening in.
Soon the four of them made it to the brick wall where students and their parents would pass to get to the platform for the train to Hogwarts.
"My Lord, Mistress, brat," Bella said respectively while walking away, presumably to the current hideout (which Draco hadn't been informed of, as he wasn't allowed there unless strictly told to be there for important business, which had only happened once a few days before and even then he hadn't known where he had been).
"Well?" Voldemort's human form asked icily to Draco, his intense gaze landing on him and his eyes glittered red.
Draco nodded hurriedly, quickly fast-walked threw the wall and onto the platform. There were still some people standing around outside the train and saying goodbye, though he didn't really care about that at the moment. That is, until he saw a mop of red hair.
"Weasel, Mudblood, Potter" he sneered once the redhead and his friends were in hearing range.
"Malfoy," the black-haired boy with the redhead said and a brown-haired girl sneered back. "Where's your daddy? Shouldn't he be here holding your hand?"
That hurt since his father had been sent to Azkaban, but Draco didn't let them see that. He just sneered, thinking of a comeback.
"At least I have a daddy."
That did it, he thought to himself icily as Harry's eyes flared with hate and anger, a part of his mind silently wondering if Voldemort and the girl had come through the wall yet.
Voldemort sighed from the Muggle side of the brick wall, crouched down on a knee so he was closer to the height of his lovely daughter.
"Make sure to tell me everything that happens; I expect reports."
Orochimaru giggled slightly at his formal tone that he only used on his Death Eaters he didn't particularly like but kept around anyway.
"Yes, sir," came her belated reply as she suppressed another giggle.
He smiled. "Good luck, stay out of trouble, and make sure to make Dumbledore's life living Hell for me, OK?"
She smiled, the notion just making it to her eyes. Voldemort smiled too, brought her in for a few second hug, then let go, got up, dusted himself off, and leaned down to place a light, loving kiss on her forehead.
(1) - Think Tom M. Riddle for his current look.