Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter, I own nothing but Amarantine and the plot.

In the place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the Morn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love me and despair!

J.R.R. Tolkein

Chapter 1

It was the last day of their Sixth Year term. The four students made their way through the halls of the castle, trunks levitated behind them. The two boys and the bushy-haired girl were talking animatedly, but the fourth student trailed a few steps behind. She had long, lush red hair and fair skin, but despite her beauty her piercing grey-blue eyes rarely betrayed a smile. Spending five years in Azkaban could do that to a person. At the moment, though, one thought did bring a ray of golden happiness to her mind. As much as she loved Hogwarts, Amarantine was happy to be returning to her muggle "family" for the summer holidays for one reason: her horses. Growing up on a farm in the beautiful rolling countryside of England, Amarantine had spent her childhood on horseback. Imagining every detail of her beautiful red stallion in her mind, she was startled when she bumped into something and suddenly found herself sprawled on the ground.

"Hey, watch it!" She heard someone snarl. Shaking the stars out of her eyes and turning as she rose to her feet, she saw Harry glaring at Malfoy. Evidently, she had walked right into him. Before either boy could do anything that would get them in trouble, she quickly stepped between them.

"It's ok Harry, I honestly wasn't watching where I was going-"

" Just be thankful you ran into me and not that mudblood friend of yours. Wouldn't want to catch anything dirty, now would you?" Malfoy shot a disgusted look in Hermione's direction, and turned to saunter off, but not before catching Amarantine's eyes in an icy stare. Despite their hatred of one another, they held a sort of mutual respect for one another; Malfoy for Amarantine's lineage and power, and she for the hint of evil she saw in his eyes. There was almost something she admired in it.

Breaking his gaze, she turned away before rounding on him with her wand and sending him flying into the shrubbery ten feet away. Shaking off Harry and Ron's high-fives, she locked arms with Hermione, who was looking a bit upset from Malfoy's taunt.

"Ugh, I think I've caught something dirty," she said, loud enough for Malfoy to hear. "Help me get it off?"

Most of the summer passed by quite uneventfully. Amarantine missed her wizard friends, but was kept updated of the goings-on in the wizarding world by a steady stream of letters from Harry, Ron and Hermione. Lonliness was nothing new to her. And now, unlike in Azkaban, she had someone to share it with, and wasn't trapped within the black despair of her own mind.

It was a bright summer day, just made for galloping through the countryside on horseback. This day, Amarantine was on Casanova, her bright chestnut stallion. His deep red coat glowed the same color as his rider's hair in the summer sunlight. The grass had not yet begun to brown with the coming of late August, and the strong scent of flowers, berries and sweet hay hung in the thick air. Breathing in deeply, Amarantine pushed all her worries to the back of her mind. Concentrating only on the brisk, athletic footfalls of the horse beneath her, she was lulled into a lazy sort of trance. The two continued in this manner for several minutes, slowly making their way through the field towards the coolness of the woods beyond.

Amarantine was broken from her reverie by a snort and a leap from Casanova. Pitching forward, she grabbed his mane to steady herself, then looked about to determine the cause of his antics. Spotting a red fox darting away through the tall grass, she grinned.

"Come on, Cazz - let's get him!"

And so the chase began. She squeezed him forward after the fox and gave him his head as he launched into a powerful, three-beated canter. The wind whipped through her hair and her eyes began to tear up, they were going to fast. She managed an occasional glimpse of a bushy red tail bounding through the grass ahead of them, and followed the fox over a low stone wall and through a stream before reaching the edge of the wood and pulling Cazz up. Reluctantly, he jigged to a walk, snorting to clear his nose but not breathing hard. That run was just a warm up for him.

"Good boy," Amarantine laughed, watching the fox disappear into the undergrowth. "What do you say to a nice long hack in the woods? We can stay out as long as we want today, little boy." Not really waiting for an answer, she turned him towards the trees and let the cool of the forest wash over them.

Despite herself, as her horse carefully picked his way along the trail through the trees, Amarantine began to think. She usually tried to avoid that, because it always led to something unpleasant. Her mind wasn't really a very pleasant place to be. More like a dark, cold place that was to be avoided at all costs. But all the same, she found herself slipping into it. First, as they usually did, her thoughts lingered on Sirius. Her father. The father she had never really known. He became known to her in her first months in the wizard prison. Learning of her imprisonment, he squeezed through his bars as a dog and came to visit her as often as circumstances allowed. Being ten years old, thrown into a wizard prison, and having a big black dog tell you that he is your father was certainly a lot to take in. And through his visits, brief though they were, Amarantine began to piece together the truth about her life. But if he loved her as he said he did, why did he leave her to rot inside herself in that place? She had been angry, so angry, when he had escaped without her. And then to lose him to death less than two years later. How could you be angry at someone who was dead?

And then there was the matter of Harry Potter. Harry had looked out for her, protected her, cared for her since she had rejoined the wizarding world at Hogwarts. He and his friends were good people, Amarantine knew. Slowly but surely, they began to melt her icy exterior borne from her years in Azkaban, where all hope and happiness was sucked from her soul. Slowly, she felt herself thaw, and feel again, and feel more like a real person. But there was still something missing, and she knew it, though she doubted her friends did. Though on the outside she might be flesh and blood, her soul was frozen.

When it came to right and wrong, good and evil, she was somewhat indifferent. Despite being friends with the good, honourable Gryffindors, and being in that house herself, Amarantine wasn't as horrified by the cruel antics of certain Slytherins as her friends. In fact, sometimes she secretly enjoyed them. She could feel enough to know that this should scare her. But not enough to know that it was wrong.

And now, she had another problem to deal with. All of Hogwarts had figured out that Harry felt more than friendship towards Amarantine. Of course, being the gentleman that he was, he hadn't done anything about it. But Amarantine knew from the way he looked at her, from the way he said her name, that he worshipped her. And that scared her, because Harry was a good person and a good friend. And she was not sure she was even capable of love…if he could see what was inside her soul, the malice and the hatred and the cruelty, she was sure he would hate her.

"Oh Cazz," she sighed, winding her fingers through his mane. "People are so confusing. I wish I could just stay here with you forever. After so many years of being hidden from the world, how am I supposed to know how to face it?"

The big stallion didn't answer, just continued walking down the trail, and didn't protest as the girl buried her face in his mane and began to cry.

It was dusk before the girl and horse turned for home. Tired after the long ride, Amarantine had her feet out of the stirrups and only one hand on the reins. Suddenly, a deafening BANG resounded through the wood. Casanova took off, panicked. Amarantine stayed on, but before she could gather her reins to halt him, he darted off the path and into the dense wood in his mad dash. The last thing Amarantine saw was a tree branch coming towards her head.

"Shit!" she screamed, as everything went black.

Amarantine awoke to a dull throbbing pain in her head. She felt a soft bed beneath her. As she came closer to consciousness, she remembered getting knocked off her horse by a tree branch. "I guess my muggle 'family' found me, then," she thought. It was unlike Cazz to spook like that, but she knew that any horse could have his moments. She struggled to open her eyes, and when she succeeded, the light was painful. She blinked a few times, trying to take in her surroundings. Satin bedsheets, a chandelier above her hanging from a high ceiling. She definitely was not home.

"Ah, you're awake. Welcome, Ms. Black. I assume you know who I am."

Amarantine turned her head painfully, looking for the owner of the voice. Then she saw him, sitting imperiously on a chair at her bedside. Yes, she did know him. Anyone would know that evil smirk, that long, white-blond hair, those expensive robes.

"Malfoy," she croaked. "Wha…"

"What are you doing here? Well, let me apologize for scaring your horse earlier. I am sorry that I had to take you like this, but I had the feeling that you would not come with me willingly. But please be aware, you are not a prisoner. The Dark Lord has a proposal for you. Will you hear it?"

Amarantine was still trying to make sense of where she was, of what had happened. It seemed that Lucius Malfoy, a known death eater, had kidnapped her and now wished for her to speak to Voldemort. This was a lot to get her mind around. Coherent thought seemed to be escaping her just now.

"Ah, that doesn't matter," Lucius muttered in response to her silence. "You see, it doesn't much matter if you will hear him or not; that is not up to you, my dear. Now, our Lord is not able to be with us tonight, but has instructed me to relay a message from him to you, Amarantine. He knows that the company you keep is - ahem – less than satisfactory, but that can be overlooked for the moment. You are a very powerful witch, Amarantine, and our Lord sees greatness in you. Under his tutelage he knows that you can become more powerful than you could ever imagine. He would teach you ways of control and power that you will never learn at the school of yours. And he is willing to help you achieve greatness, Ms. Black, if you will join with him. You would be more powerful than even," Lucius paused, and a pained look crossed his face, "myself."

For a fleeting moment, the offer tempted Amarantine more than she would ever admit, even to herself. Her icy soul turned slightly colder at the thought of such power. Lucius saw it in her eyes at that moment; they were cold, sharp and calculating, just like his own. And he was almost afraid. It was at that moment that he knew she had real power. The Dark Lord was right to want her on his side. Oh, he would use her, he knew. Before she came close to becoming as powerful as him, he would have her killed. But better to use her while he could.

Apparently, Amarantine seemed to realize this too. It was frankly an insult to her to be asked to be a pawn in the Dark Lord's game. She was more than a pawn, and she knew it.

"No," she said firmly, coldly. And then she remembered Harry, and her friends, and her father and mother, who had been killed by Voldemort, and the harsh gleam left her eyes. She seemed somehow diminished. "No, never. NEVER."

Lucius let the corners of his mouth twist upward into a smirk at her words. He had expected this, and his Lord had told him what to do if she said no. This was going to be fun.

"We thought you might say as much, Amarantine. I think you might regret it. But you cannot take it back now. If you will not serve him fully, you will not serve him at all."

With that, he strode over and grabbed her wrists painfully, dragging her off the bed. She looked around frantically for her wand as she struggled against his strong grip. She might be an exceptionally powerful witch, but her small frame was no match for his strength. Without magic, she had nothing. Crushing her to him with his arms he flicked his wand and with a "pop!" Amarantine found herself in a cold, dark room before she could open her mouth to scream. There were no windows, and the walls and floor were made of hard stone.

"Alright love," he drawled smoothly, menacingly, "lets have some fun. Crucio!"

It was pain beyond imagining. Amarantine had never before been the victim of an unforgivable curse, and thought she would be able to handle it better. She couldn't. It was like a fire of sharp daggers had been set inside every cell of her body. She screamed and writhed and cursed every second it went on that she was still alive. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity in the first circle of Hell, it stopped. She lay on the cold floor, panting and whimpering, unable to move. Then she felt cold hands on her, before she was thrown roughly against a wall. She vaguely heard a crack, and felt blood pouring down the side of her face. As she slumped to the ground, the cruciatus curse came again, and again, and again. She didn't know how long it lasted, she only knew she wanted to die.

Then suddenly, something welled up in the back of her mind. It was like a powerful force from within her, pushing Lucius's curse away. A tingling sensation came over her body and she heard Lucius yell as he flew across the dungeon, propelled by the force of the broken curse.

But then he was standing over her again. And he was angry. Very angry

"So, bitch," Lucius said, kicking her hard in the ribs, "too good for me, eh? Well, we'll just have to play the muggle way. Since you are muggle-loving filth."

Amarantine cried out as he kicked her roughly again, then punched her in the face. His big, jewel studded ring drew deep scratches across her pale cheek, and she felt hot, sticky blood begin to trickle from her nose and lips.

He put the cruciatus on her again, and this time she was too weak to break through. As pain shot through her body, she didn't notice as he ripped her bloodied robes off her body, leaving her in nothing but her riding boots, her pants and her bra. As the curse lifted, she was vaguely aware of him pulling down her pants, and forcing himself between her legs. She let out one piercing shriek before he silenced her with a rough kiss.