My fourth installation begins with a new, problematic ability. Visions. Those started popping up, and there was no knowing why I received them. And what good samaritan could I really tell without revealing something that I wasn't supposed to know about? Without revealing the skeletons in my closet?
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"Go get my daughter, Wormtail. She and I have much to discuss."
The room was dark, but for a fire lit in the grate. An old armchair was kept close to the fire, facing away from the door. A short, balding man — Wormtail — stood staring at whatever resided in the chair unseen from the viewpoint of the doorframe. On the floor behind it was the body of an old man, his walking stick near him. He looked as though he'd been scared to death, his eyes glassed over and his mouth open as if still letting out one last scream.
"At this time, m-my Lord?" the man asked, jittery.
"Are you questioning my judgment?" the voice asked, cold and high-pitched as only Lord Voldemort's could be after all the Dark Magic he used in his life to make sure he lived forever.
"N-no, my Lord. I only wish to be certain before I wake her up at such an ungodly hour... she m-might not take too kindly to me for that."
As Voldemort replied, it was only too obvious that he was grinning. "After the initial anger, she'll understand once you explain that I sent you... besides, Wormtail, you have nothing to worry about. She is underage and, as such, cannot use magic outside of school."
Wormtail's face visibly relaxed at the news. "A-As you wish, my Lord."
A pause. "Well? Leave already! I told you where to go!"
He scurried away from the room as fast as he could.
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I sat upright in my bed, wiping my face up and down with both hands to quickly wake up my blurred eyesight. Was that a dream... or did I see what was actually happening? I glared at the clock and released a yawn at watching it change from twelve fifty nine to one o'clock in the morning. My black cat, Bodoujn, meowed sleepily from his spot next to me as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
So I'm really going to start getting visions like Professor Trelawney predicted... but are they really visions if what I'm seeing is happening at that same exact moment? What sense does that make?
I heard a loud pop echo from outside, and groaned irritably. I slowly stood, slipping my feet into my slippers, and stuffed pillows under my blanket to make it look like I was still asleep. With a baby in the house, he was bound to wake them up at some point and who knew when I'd be back?
I left my room to quickly check everyone else's. Thankfully, no one had stirred. Tip-toeing down the staircase, I wandered through the living room and peaked into the dining room where I saw the very man sent to come get me sneaking through the kitchen from the hallway leading from the front door. Ugh, paltry Peter Pettigrew.
On top of his hair balding, I noticed even in the darkness that it was also graying. He had a pointed nose and small, watery eyes. Like the rat he was.
He gave a whimper when he saw me, "Y-You're the D-Dark Lord's daughter?" he asked, distraught.
Right. He didn't know who I was when he last saw me. I sighed, "Yeah, and you're the idiot who thought it'd be smart to give me a concussion in your efforts to scurry away from your doom." I walked up to him and forced him with me out of the house, mostly pushing him. Once outside, I closed the door behind us and whispered, "Are you crazy? Next time, Disapparate at least a block away and then sneak in the front door. What if one of my family members had been awake instead of me, hearing you pop in?"
He whimpered, cowering under my gaze, "So sorry, milady, I –"
"Whatever, you pathetic worm," I said with a roll of my eyes, the action waking me up just a little more. I'm getting good at being evil. Wait.. I shouldn't be proud of that. "What do you want?"
"The D-Dark Lord ordered m-me to come g-get you...."
"Well, why didn't you say so? Come on, let's go, there's not a lot of time to waste," I snapped.
He nodded quickly, and nervously held his arm to me. I smirked and took it, bracing myself for the discomfort of traveling. Peter Disapparated us outside a large house with a very creepy aura, that of which didn't help with my queasiness. Somehow, despite looking very old and run down, it stood forebodingly at the top of a hill overlooking a small town. Of course, what else would be the homely abode of Lord Voldemort?
"This is the R-Riddle House..." Peter said, walking toward the entrance and glancing back at me every so often. "It was the home of the Mudblood family on your father's side."
I fought to abate my stomach as I looked the building over. Only one window flickered with light. The rest of the windows were so dark I almost thought I saw a face looking out through one of them, but when I turned my head it was only the moon reflecting off of it. Suddenly the stomachache turned to rocks weighing me down.
"How is my dad? Does he have a body yet?" I asked as he opened the front door with a creak and led me through the house.
"I-In a way... he still wants you for the creation of the potion to give him a stronger body," Peter said. "He's not very good looking, if that's what you hope for –"
I laughed darkly, causing the man to flinch. "All the better to scare his foes!"
We finally walked into the room I saw in my vision, the fireplace casting warmth even to the doorway I confidently strode to and leaned against. I wished I could've had the option to hesitate, but with the pitiful man watching my every move it would be sure to cause him to see through my facade... or is it even a facade anymore?
"My Lord..." Peter stood next to the chair again with a low bow, emphasis on 'my' for whatever odd reason. "Your daughter is here."
"Thank you, Wormtail," he said. When I was eleven, the hairs on the back of my neck had stood up upon first hearing his voice. Now that I was used to it to some degree, I merely gave an effort to show I was more than happy to hear it. I could just see all the hairs on Peter's body stand up, even though he'd been with him for a couple months already.
"Dad," I released my voice breathily, surprisingly feeling some actual joy at knowing he could finally have a body to talk to me one on one. When we first met, I had to settle for talking to him while he was surviving off of the back of Professor Quirrell's head. After he died, it was then through the snake, Nagini's, mouth that he spoke to me.
"My daughter... how good of you to come," he said.
"I will always be there for you when you need me," I said. "Is there anything in particular you would like to talk to me about? Perhaps the point of the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins?"
Bertha was reported missing by someone who was a friend of my Uncle Gerald... I had suspected the one behind it could be dad. Though it was odd to me that no one reported it to the Ministry so they could go search for her. In these peaceful times in the wizarding world, a witch or wizard's disappearance didn't happen often... or if it did, they turned up sooner or later with a wild story to tell of some adventure.
He laughed, "Does anyone suspect me or Wormtail?"
"Not at all. Neither of you come to anyone's mind... just mine," I said.
"See Wormtail? No suspicion... he's been worried."
"Well, worry is what you get when you ask for a coward to help you back to power," I spat.
"I returned to him on my own –" Peter started saying, rather courageously. I cut him down easily.
"No, no, no; you may swear that you returned to him on your own, but you didn't. Hadn't you ever wondered why you suddenly appeared to him as you ran away from us? It was me who transported you – you wouldn't have been able to find him, nor would you have looked for him, had it not been for me." I glared menacingly at him. He whimpered and backed up close to the fire. "You cast a spell that pushed me away from you... I must say that was a good spell. It gave me an irritating concussion. Before I lost consciousness, however, I made sure I got my father what he wanted. You."
"N-No, that's not –"
I smirked victoriously, "Oh, yes. That's exactly how it went, Wormtail. Don't even try to deny it. Indeed you have been faithful so far, taking care of my dad, but were it not for me I believe you would have gone straight into hiding."
Wormtail stayed silent, looking as if he was contemplating his next words.
"Lie and I will not hesitate to curse you," I said. "I can read your mind. I knew in the Shrieking Shack that you did think about going back to my father on the one thought that you had his wand. You would never use it knowing it belonged to him." His eyes widened. "I trust he gave your wand back to you, dad?"
"Yes," he said, sounding thoroughly amused. "Wormtail, fetch some more food from the village. I believe we are nearly out."
"Y-Yes, my Lord. Right away, my Lord," Wormtail said, scuttling out of the room as quickly as possible.
"Coward," I said in Parseltongue.
"Yes... but he is my best hope of health.... Come, Melody... I want you to look at me with your own eyes," Dad replied.
I found myself bracing myself once again. I already knew he wouldn't look normal, so I could only hope that I'd be able to withstand the sight of him. Making my way over to the front of the chair where he sat, I pitied him instantly but didn't dare show it. I lowered myself to my knees in front of the chair to be eye-to-eye with him.
He was in the shape of a crouched human child. His eyes remained red, and he was hairless but scaly-looking. His skin was a dark, raw, reddish black. His arms and legs were very feeble, but he kept his wand at his side, and his face was as I had seen him last... flat and snakelike.
His smile showed he was pleased. "You are braver than Wormtail."
I chuckled, "He is that afraid of how you look?"
"He may not admit it, but he regrets staying with me. He flinches when he looks at me... shudders when he touches me...." he hissed.
I touched my hand to one of his, touching it delicately. His skin really did feel scaly. "If it's any consolation..." I said softly, wondering if I should really say what I was thinking of saying. What the heck, I might as well. "But, I think you look adorable."
He laughed, cold and sharp. "I wondered what you were going to say."
I never knew for sure if he tried to look into my mind, but the only reason I knew he couldn't even if he tried was because I kept it blocked whenever I was around him. It helped keep my emotions in check. The real pivot behind my thoughts was how much I hated myself for helping him. Bringing him back to power just made me clench my teeth, but I couldn't let him see that. Being behind the scenes – knowing his plans let me know what I could try doing to keep things from getting out of hand. Sometimes there was nothing I could do, so I regrettably followed through with many of his plans.
"At least I speak my mind so you don't have to wonder for long," I said, giving him a smile. "Now, this business with Bertha Jorkins...."
"Wormtail brought her to me. She held some very valuable information that was easy to torture out of her. She had a memory charm cast upon her so she wouldn't remember this, but... one of my followers is still alive, though I'd heard him to be dead. Barty Crouch Jr., son of Barty Crouch –" I'd heard of the latter, "– was my most faithful servant. His father had switched him and his dying mother in Azkaban. He keeps him at his house under the Imperius Curse."
"What's the plan?" I asked.
"Wormtail and I will act after the Quidditch World Cup – are you going?"
I nodded, "With the Malfoys."
He nodded too, "I heard from that woman that Alastor Moody – renowned auror – will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year. I have some Polyjuice Potion at my disposal. Barty will take Moody's place. I need an inside man who will keep his eye on Harry Potter for something special."
I chuckled, "You're purposely keeping me suspense. Aren't you going to tell me what will happen?"
He smiled, "If it's a secret to all students, I'll let it be a surprise for you as well... and Barty will teach you how to Apparate."
"I could get Professor Snape to," I said.
He looked at me thoroughly, "Do you not trust my judgment?" He sounded threatening.
I snorted, that's debatable, "In no way am I questioning your judgment in him, but Professor Snape is my private tutor. Private lessons with 'Moody' could make him jealous."
He shook his head, "It would be better for Barty to teach you. He would give you free reign, and get you started on the Dark Arts. I need you to learn if you are to help me."
I nodded, feeling more rocks pile up in my stomach at the thought of learning Dark Magic. "Okay then."
"The plan will work... it will work...."
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Peter returned a while later and returned me home, it was about five and – of course – no one was up yet. No one liked waking up early and, since Blake came into the family, it was nearly impossible to get any sleep.
As if on cue, I heard Blake's crying and the groans of every single person in the house.
"I'll get him!" I shouted out, running up the stairs to Blake's room where he lay in his crib bawling his eyes out. I gently picked him up and bounced him lightly.
His tears slowly reduced to whimpers.
"Who's a cutie?" I said softly in a baby-like voice. "Who's a cutie?"
Blake giggled, his small face lighted up in a smile.
"That's right! You are!" I cooed. "It's okay now. Big sister is here."