By the time I got my things to my room and got back down, the meeting had started.

I opened the door as quietly as I could and shut it just as quietly behind me.

"You're late, Layla." I looked at him and he hadn't even turned his head to look at me.

I winced. It wasn't a harsh tone, but it sure was a strict one, and one that I wasn't accustomed to hearing. I hadn't heard him scold me since I was a year old.

"I know. I'm sorry, m'Lord..." I curtsied some and hurried to his side.

This time he graced me with a look, his eyes serious. "Do not let it happen again."

With that, he went back to speaking to his loyalists.

I looked around the table at all of the followers my father had amassed. Though some were rather old, there was one boy, about my age. He looked bored and was not paying attention. He looked up and caught my gaze, then his face grew into a smirk. I knew that look, that face. He was Lucius's son.

I smirked back at him as his eyes caressed me up and down. It was like he was raping me with his eyes. Not that I much minded. He wasn't so bad looking himself. I gave him a small wink

My father had stopped speaking and was looking at the blond-haired boy. "Young Malfoy, I would hate to think that you are eyeing anything but myself at this table.

His cool blue eyes snapped back to my father. "No, My Lord."

Father held an air of skepticism. "Of course not...." he drawled.

Malfoy looked up at him, his eyes holding a false innocence, like a two year old being caught reaching into the cooking jar, and in being caught, swore his innocence.

"I have one more announcement this evening. I would like to present to you Layla Priestly-Riddle, my one and only daughter."

The shock in the air was almost tangible at that moment. Malfoy's face actually showed his surprise.

"I look forward to being here, and to working," my eyes wandered to the blond who was looking me over still, "with all of you."

The old perverts muttered to each other with satisfied grins.

I rolled my eyes a little. I looked to my father.

"May I go to my room, Father?"

He nodded at me, dismissing me with a wave of his hand.

I curtsied again and left, going up to my room, my skirts rustling in the silence of the manor.

*~*~*~*~*~*

I came out of my room, my nose stuck into my favorite spell book. I only got a few paces before I slammed into someone, making me stumble backwards.

I hit the floor and heard someone hit the floor right after me. I put my book down, prepared to give whoever a verbal lashing, but looked up and met a pair of cool blue eyes, clear as crystal.

Malfoy got up and held out his hand to me. "Are you alright?"

I took it and he pulled me easily to my feet. I smiled one of my mesmerizing smiles at him, and nodded some. "Yes, I'm fine. You?"

"Fine," he said assuredly. There was a moment's pause, then, " So, why are you here? I've never seen you around before."

I raised my eyebrow at him.

He did it right back. "All I meant is where have you been all this time?"

"America, with my mother."

"Oh, so you're like an embarrassment to him or something."

"Of course not!" I said, appalled that he could ever assume that I would ever be an embarrassment.

"Then why have you been in America for 16 years?"

"I was born over there, and to make sure we were kept safe, he never told anyone. He would come to see us when I was a baby, but then that brat Harry Potter destroyed him. It was only a little while ago that I learned of his return. I've been planning since January to come here and take my place next to him."

"Wow," was all he said.

We walked around for a few minutes in silence, then he said, "Are you a badass?"

I looked over at him, wondering what the hell kind of question that was. "I'm not a muggle and mudblood sympathizer if that's what you mean."

"I'm just trying to see if your soft or if you take after your father," he said thoughtfully.

"I am my father's daughter."

He smirked at me. "Alright."

I stopped and gave him a playful smirk back. "I'm sorry, do you find that attractive?"

"God, no..."

I raised my eyebrow at him skeptically. "Right. Your erection says otherwise."

"You enjoy torturing people?"

"Yes."

He just looked me over, almost like he wasn't sure what to think of me, like he didn't know whether to be scared, or turned on by me.

"What's he like as a father?"

I chuckled a little, continuing to walk down the hall with him. "He's strict, but he dotes upon me. As long as I please him, he's kind to me."

He laughed a little, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his faded jeans. "Where all have you lived in America?"

"California is where I came from when I came here. I also lived in Washington state and when I was really little I lived in Maine."

"A bunch of us went to New York once. We went to see the clubs and to go party."

" 'Us?' They're all....so old...."

He laughed some. "I meant my friends from school, not those old perverted bastards from the meeting. God no."

"Ooh," I said softly, heaving a light sigh. "I've never been around people much, especially ones my own age."

He nodded some, acting like he understood my dilemma. "Are you going to Hogwarts this year?"

"I'm not allowed. Father doesn't want me around all of those mudbloods and half-breeds. Frankly, I can't see how you stand it....Malfoy, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Draco. And yeah, I know. It's a pain in the arse. Stupid little mudbloods and God you can't even imagine how annoying Potter and posse are..."

"I can't wait until he's dead," I hissed.

"Soon," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"It had better be..."

"It will be, so long as everything goes according to plan."

I gave a quick nod.

I hated that kid. I really did.

We walked around a little more and I tried again to make conversation. "Do you play Quidditch?" I asked. He looked the type.

He looked at me like I was honestly the stupidest girl that ever live. "Of course I do," he chided in a 'um, DUH' kind of tone. I fought the urge to smack him or roll my eyes, or both. "I'm the captain of my team at Hogwarts."

I smiled a little. "Fascinating," I replied, my tone carrying a slightly sarcastic edge.

He rolled his eyes a little. "Wanna play?"

I glanced outside at the fading daylight. "Now?"

He shrugged. "Sure." Then he grinned at me. "Unless you'd rather read your girly romance novel...." He nudged my hand that held my book.

"It's a black magic spell book, you ass!" I quipped, smacking him with the thick volume. "Spell. Book."

He just chuckled at me, rubbing his arm where I'd smacked him. "So, you wanna play?" He smirked.

Part of me wanted to hit him again for keeping on smirking at me like he did. Yet part of me was being compelled to throw myself at him. That evil, nasty, sexy smirk of his...it did things, scary things that it should not be doing to me.

I wasn't the kind of girl to throw myself into a man's arms and beg him to take me. I was the girl that the boys threw themselves at. On the few rare occasions that I had been able to have a boy in my bed, he was always a man, not some pubescent teen boy. And I had never felt any attraction to them other than "Hey, I'm hot, you're hot, wanna go do it?"

But this boy...wow. He was beautiful in every single sense of that word. His fitted shirt gave one the idea that beneath the poly-cotton blend material lay a pale plane of toned flesh, strong, lined, beautiful. There was no way that he could be flawed. The only mark to him was the black one that took up his forearm on his left arm; the Dark Mark.

I heaved a sigh, shaking thoughts of him from my head. This guy was an asshole, just like every other Death Eater, just like his father. (I really didn't like Lucius, more like I enjoyed egging him on, knowing there was nothing he could do to his master's only child. Ahhh...It was good to be royalty.)

"I'm not supposed to be outside, especially after it starts to get dark."

He quirked an eyebrow at me, almost disbelievingly. "He's afraid someone's going to just snatch you right out of the back yard?"

I nodded a little. "Yeah."

He shrugged. "Alright. See you around then." He turned and headed towards the stairs.

I fought back a groan and ran after him a few steps catching his hand. "Wait...."

He turned and looked down at his large, calloused, yet gentle hand in my smooth-skinned little one, and looked like he was fighting back the urge to smirk. Again. "Yes?

I took a deep breath and bit my lip once. "Look, I may be a hardass, but I am a girl and a teenager. And a very lonely one at that."

I pulled him into my room, him following behind me, his hand still in mine.

I shut the door behind him and leaned on it, locking it. I watched him as he took in my room. "Nice," he muttered, looking at my blank walls, nearly devoid of decoration for the time being.

"Thank you," I responded, offering a small smile.

"What do you do for fun since Daddy doesn't let you go outside?" He picked up another volume of my spell book laying on my bedside.

I shrugged a little, pushing myself up off of the door and going to my bed, flopping down on it, praying he'd be careful with my books. "I read. A lot."

"Read what? I mean, besides your beloved spell books." He put it back and shoved his hands deep in his pockets, regarding me curiously.

"Fantasy," I grinned, teasing him.

He just looked at me, one eyebrow raised, like I was crazy. Honestly, considering who my family was, I wouldn't be surprised if maniacalism ran in my blood. "Such as?"

I shrugged again. "I don't know," I snipped, a little testy. "I don't do much. I like to torture things...And people. And I love my black spell books.

He shook his head at me, chuckling some. "Like father, like daughter," he chuckled, sliding down into a chair along the wall.

I smiled a little bit at him. "I do like Quidditch. I've read about it. When I lived in Maine I like to play a little. But I was by myself and it was rather pointless."

He nodded some. "The more players, the better."

"I'll have to come and watch a match sometime.

He chuckled. "You'd love it. It's near violent."

I laughed a little, then sat up some more, gasping some. "Oh! I also do tasseomancy and tarot cards, and all that sort of stuff."

He looked a little impressed. "Are you any good at it?"

I grinned. "Most days."

He returned my child-like grin. "Do me?"

My face went blank, and I blinked at him, then turned bright red. My stupid American perverted mind.

I could have died as I saw him smirking at me, knowing what I must have thought. "Here, sit closer..." I said, my face hot and, I was sure, bright red.

I turned away from him, leaning across my bed to get to the other night stand where my tarot deck was stashed. I took a deep breath and fought back my embarrassment. When I turned back around I saw his eyes flick upwards. Like he'd been watching my ass.

My dark lips curved up in a half smirk. "Stop that."

"Can't help it..." he grinned back at me.

I rolled my eyes, still smirking some as I shuffled my worn out deck. I spread them out in front of him. "Pick three."

He looked them over and selected three at random. I laid them out, bottom to top, vertically. "Pick two."

He picked two more. I laid those on either side of the middle card, forming a sort of cross.

He looked at me over the cards. "........Now what?"

I laughed quickly, but bit it back, grinning some. "Now," I said mysteriously, "I read them...."

He laughed a bit to himself at my love for the dramatic, but watched me as I flipped them over and did the reading.

"The card in the middles is the Seven of Cups or Temptation. It's reversed. Determination and resolve, an independent resolution to move ahead with eyes open.

"Strength is at the top. it represents imagination. there will be a triumph over your base instincts and moral resolve." I glanced up at him. "I doubt you'll do anything with much creativity." He just rolled his eyes at my teasing.

I continued. "The left side is emotion and there is the Nine of Cups, reversed. It means you will try to be distant and not cleave or cling to others, and misleading freedom

"The bottom is thought. It is the Page of Swords. there is an imposter in your way

"finally, in the spot of manifestation, the right spot, there is the Judgement card. Resurrection and rebirth, Perfection of body and soul, and your final reward....or punishment."

He stared at me. "Translation?"

"You have a choice you're facing and soon enough you'll be able to make your own choice about it with a new way of thinking. There will be a person, most likely the fake or impostor that cards told, that you will try not to cleave to ((cleave=glue, or to become attached to)). However, I think over time, you'll give in, thus going against your base instincts as well. In the end your choices will reap for you your ultimate fate, either in form of a reward or a punishment."

I heard him sigh and looked up at him. "Great. A bad future."

I gave him a confused look. "What's bad? I said reward."

"Yeah, or punishment. In case you haven't guessed it yet, I'm not exactly a model citizen..."

I laughed a little. "Father will reward you for doing great things in his name." I reached out and touched his cheek.

His skin was smooth there, no hint of stubble or scruff, and very warm.

He nodded a little and I gave him a genuine smile, dropping my hand. I gathered my cards up and leaned back across my bed to put them back into their proper place.

"So...." he said, obviously watching my backside again.

I sat back up and shook my head a little at him, not bothering to hide my amusement. "So what?"

"What do you want to do?"

I looked over at him, searching for some hidden meaning to his words, and finding none.

I sighed. "Okay, here's the deal. I'm almost four months without anything, and I'm really turned on right now.

His grin widened. "So you're saying...."

I grabbed his collar, and sat on my knees in front of him, pulling his lips to meet mine roughly. He kissed back hard, his hands finding my hips.

Our hands and fingers worked expertly with each other, each of knowing what to do, where to touch, how to touch.....