Voldemort's Daughter (Finished.)

Part 46 (2 of 2)

CHAPTER 46 (PART TWO)

Harry's POV 

Sitting in DATDA Sarah looks paler than usual, her everlasting smirk completely gone. I watched with faint confusion as she begun tapping her nails on the desk, every moment tense.  

'You right mate?' Ron asked, leaning over and nudging me in the arm. I nodded blankly, still studying the strangest Malfoy. It was old news that she had a relationship with her "cousin" that she'd been hiding, not to mention Milly's sudden silence.

Umbridge begun patrolling the room, her eyes on me like a hawk. I sighed, fingering my wand that lay hidden in my cloak. I wondered how many people would cheer if I decided to kill this old hag... I froze dead.  

Why was I thinking like that? My mind automatically went to the nightmares of Voldemort, the dreams, me as him.  

'Oh Harry! Harry?' Hermione sounded worried, judging me with her deep eyes anxiously.  

'Yes?' I said, coming icily back to reality. Voldemort had already stolen my nights away and now he was taking over my day-lit hours as well? I sighed, slumping down deeper into my seat as Umbridge passed my desk, smirking as she looked down at my scarred wrist. I hid it automatically -I'd been Hiding it from everyone- and her smile widened. 

'I must not tell lies,' she whispered menacingly as she went, stopping at the girl that froze dead in front of me. 

Sarah.

SARAH'S POV 

'My apologies Miss Riddle, it took an awful amount of work deciding how to break the news to you,' Umbridge said quietly into my ear, her perfume clogging my senses as well as Crade's, whose body tightened around my wrist as the stench progressed. 

'And where do you base your facts?' I asked innocently, leaning to my left to get a breath of clean air. There was no denying it now; the bitch knew exactly who I was. I'd hoped that she'd fall prey to my innocence and forget my identity. I laughed harshly, thinking about that impossibility.  

'Why do you laugh?' Umbridge snapped at me, her pink nails itching to attack. Likewise, I wouldn't mind going all-out on her. I went to retort but held myself back, taking a cooling breath. 

'How do you know then?' I asked darkly, my voice a replica of my fathers. I would not let her run all over me.  

'Do you remember that little ambush on Dumbledore's army?' I nodded, suddenly fearful. She laughed sweetly then, bending closer. 'You didn't catch me,' she sung. And then she was gone, tapping her wand annoyingly on the desks ahead of me.

I spent the next half hour in silent agony. My mind was focused entirely on Umbridge yet I didn't understand a word that came out of her mouth. 

'This is what she sounds like to me,' Crade muttered into my ear comfortingly. 

'You can't understand them at all?' I answered, my voice a mere whisper under Umbridge's.  

'Only a mumble.' 

'But...' I stopped, confused. 'I talk English to people all the time and you never fail to comprehend it!'  

'Shhh,' he reminded me before laughing softly. 'But you aren't entirely human my dear.' 

'Since when am I "your dear"?' I asked, irritated. 

'You were in a blonde moment, I only sought to end it.' And with a farewell hiss, he left, seeking the warmth and dark of my robes.  

10 minutes.

5.

4. 

3. 

2. 

... 

1.  

I was out of my chair the second class was dismissed, every muscle in my body tensed for attack. I didn't know why Umbridge had shared this little secret with me but I was wary. Very wary. After all, I was about to see a teacher that was trying to bring back the old days of torturing students... I sniggered. My father would probably approve. I shuddered soon after however, imagining Umbridge in the Death Eater meetings, the parties...

'Yes dear?' the witch -ignore the pun- hissed in her intricately worded web of sugar, trying to ensnare me. I hissed savagely as I pushed past and strolled into her horrific office.  

'Pink,' I growled, ignoring her squark of protest as I took a seat- her seat.  

In order to be seen as in control you have to make yourself at home, my fathers cemented words flooded back to me. I put my feet up on her desk, a smile on my lips.

'I think you'll find death welcome if you don't get out of my seat,' she snarled. I didn't move. 

'But if you touch me my father will death as hellish as life for you. You won't know the difference,' I retorted, smiling as her face turned beetroot.

'Look, child of the dark lord,' she addressed me formally -never a good sign- and sat down upon her desk, watching me with careful eyes. 'I don't wish to turn you in but...' she staged a sad sigh. I hissed and stood abruptly, sending the chair crashing to he floor.  

'You'll never live to see another day if you did!' I was cracking under pressure and the hag knew it.  

'I don't doubt that killing you would put me on the dark side's chopping board but you see,' she put on a sugary sweet tone, 'I have a proposition for you.'

DRACO'S POV (Oh god, I'm sorry to subject you to this) 

Love. Two meanings, both altered by the words that stood beside them.  

Much love. 

A greeting tossed around carelessly by silly muggle girls. A sentence consisting of eight characters, a space and a full stop. A sentence with little meaning and even less caution. 

In love.  

This sentence is something entirely different, a make-up that manages to stir emotion in the hardest of men day in, day out. A sentence that could break as well as mend. A word hardly ever used. I'd only heard it myself once, muttered by the person who had stolen my heart. 

Sarah M Riddle, the daughter of Lord Voldemort.

'Hello? Earth is calling Mr Malfoy!' My head jerked automatically at the sound of my surname. 'Finally, we have life!' The voice annoyed me, the squeaky girl voice was irritating. I put up a hand and the voice went silent. 

'What is it Draco?' Goyle asked, his eyes meeting mine briefly before they met the cake that stood lonesome in the middle of the great hall. I saw as he nudged Crabbe and went lumbering towards it greedily. I thought about stopping them but remembered that they'd just devour it later anyway. Better let them have their fun. 

'Pansy. Blaise.' I said coldly, walking out. They followed obediently, glaring at anyone that sought to stare at us.  

I sighed as I proceeded up the great staircase. I could see why everyone detested us so for being arrogant it seemed. And when you thought of Slytherin producing people like the Dark Lord it wasn't a surprise.

We were nearing the seventh floor when I first heard the scream. I would know that anywhere, even though I'd never heard it before.  

That scream belonged to Sarah.