xXx Hello My Owlettes! Here is the revised chapter which I think, even though it still is a bit short, you will agree is much better than it was. If you were wondering, Sicila is the name of Oura's mother. Just for your convince I figured I'd tell you how I think the way some of the names should be pronounced.

Oura- (ore-ah)
Sicila- (sis-ah-lah)
Rosaline- (roe-za-lyn)

Hope that clears some stuff up. xXx

Chapter 8

Oura's breath caught in her throat. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. Her mother was murdered? And by the Dark Lord himself. No, it couldn't be her mother – although she wasn't very logical when it came to her father, Sicila knew enough to fight off an attacker. Oura buried her face in her hands, but didn't let the tears slip from behind her closed eyelids; she would stay strong. That's what her mother would want her to do. She looked back up at Professor Dumbledore. He had something more to say, it was written all over his face.

"Oura, I'm so sorry. This never should have happened, but there is more you need to know. On your birth certificate, your father's name is printed. Technically, Tom has full custody of you. The laws are so tight where guardianship is concerned, I cannot do anything about it. I'm very, very sorry." Dumbledore looked at her with great sympathy and helplessness in his eyes.

"What?! No, no I can't... he can't... How can the Ministry allow him to have custody, considering who he is..." Oura spoke for the first time, since Dumbledore told her about her mother.

"They don't realize who Tom really is. The Minister doesn't know they are one person," Dumbledore informed her. "Even though I tried to tell them, they don't believe me. The man we're thinking of is said to have died 15 years ago."

She nodded. Of course, they wouldn't know. To the Ministry, Tom was a harmless young man who was unemployed, and who's wife and daughter left years ago. Last year, he was found wandering around, homeless. She wondered how much make up and magic was used to make him look remotely human. The Ministry, not realizing his appearance was charmed in any way, helped him, giving him benefits so he didn't have to work and reinstated his marriage. And now, his wife was dead and his daughter was all that remained of his old life. They didn't realize that Oura hated him with a burning passion, and that she would never, ever live with him. But now, she needed to confront him.

"I want to see him." Dumbledore nodded at her statement, as though he expected nothing less.

"Be careful, and remember, Snape is your ally in this, even though he might not seem so." She nodded and left her cat Sterling at her heels.

The Dark Lord was plotting very carefully. He needed only one key component to put his plan into motion, a plan that would leave no one brave enough to oppose him. He simply needed to play his cards right. Hopefully, that key element would come to him tonight, during his meeting. The cruel man looked outside the study's bay window. The weak winter sun was completely hidden by dark clouds and the wind rattled the brittle, lifeless branches of the trees that littered the Malfoy estate. From where he was standing he could see the large wrought iron gate, which was overgrown with thorn bushes, and watched the last of the Death Eaters dash through it, not wanting to be late. The meeting would now commence.

Voldemort turned and swept down the stairs, his cloak billowing behind him, and Nagini slithering at his heels. His Death Eaters straightened as their Master entered the large dining room. He walked down the table to the head and sat himself beside his most loyal servant, Severus Snape. The fact that every man and woman was wearing a mask didn't matter. He knew who everyone was. Nagini could tell, simply by their smell.

"My brothers and sisters, my loyal servants, welcome." The pale, evil man hissed to those who watched him expectantly. "You need not wear your masks in this room. All here are trusted and no one may enter without invitation." The pale man watched as his servants removed their masks, placing them on the table next to their folded hands. "I called you here to discuss our next move. But first, I must thank Lucius and his lovely family for being so hospitable. I know most of you are wondering why I gave their son the honor of being in our inner circle, but the answer is simple; having another spy right under Dumbledore's nose was such a delectable chance, I just couldn't pass it up." The blonde teen looked down at his lap, embarrassed and more than slightly scared. Would he be able to do what was required of him? He massaged his upper arm, which was still sore from receiving the mark. "Now back to business," The Dark Lord continued. "We will be trying to-"

Suddenly, the heavy set of wooden double doors flew open and Oura stormed in, wand pointed, her eyes were full of pure hatred and her silver cat Sterling trotted fiercely as he could at her heel, hackles raised. The most shocking, though was her hair. It was on fire, causing her robes to smoke. And though the fire didn't seem to harm her, it caught many of the Death Eaters off guard.

"You bastard!" She screamed in Parseltongue with such loathing the Death Eaters didn't even need a translation to understand what she said. Many jumped to their feet, pointing their wand in her direction, but Oura only had eyes for the man at the end of the table. The Dark Lord motioned for his servants to stand down. They did so begrudgingly. Voldemort stood, his arms open in welcome.

"Now Oura," He said, calmly, in English, "Is that any way to greet your father?" His key element was finally here.