"Yes, Katerina, I am your father."

Katie felt dazed, stunned. Everything was a blur of panic and shock.

"No..." she whispered, stiffly shaking her head as tears sprang to her eyes. "No, you're lying."

Despite the fact that she so desperately wanted it to be false, despite the fact that Katie claimed Voldemort was lying, she knew it was the truth.

And suddenly, it all made sense.

Her mother was a Death Eater. She returned with two children after Voldemort's defeat at the hands of the infant Harry Potter, claiming that she did not know what had happened to her and knew not who the children's father was. Of course, she was only lying to save herself time in Azkaban, and she married Anthony Blair, a Muggle-born, to make her lie seem more believable. What Death Eater would marry a Muggle-born and carry his child? In the end, she killed Leo Blair, Anthony Blair's only real son, just as she had killed Anthony himself, because neither of them had any real meaning to her.

Voldemort was a Parselmouth, Voldemort was one of the most accomplished Legilimens the world had ever seen — hence Katie's natural gift at Occlumency. All the objects that triggered her forgotten memories were in some way related to Voldemort — Tom Riddle's plaque at Hogwarts, the real locket, Tom Riddle's diary.

Katerina Blair was not the first Blair to be sorted into Gryffindor house, because she was not a Blair at all. Her mother was Maria Blair, née Irvine, a Pure-blood witch who had not yet married into the Blair family when her first two children were born, and Tom Marvolo Riddle, the only other direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin alive to the day.

It was all too obvious that Voldemort did not want to have children to raise, care for and nourish them. For one, he wanted to extended the bloodline of Salazar Slytherin, and for another, he wanted someone powerful, more powerful that any of his loyal Death Eaters, to rise by his side. But why, then, had he had a son, and two years later, a daughter?

Then Katie remembered.

"I — I don't understand," Maria Irvine said, voice quivering faintly. "If he's yours then—"

"He will be too pure."

"And she won't be?"

"No, she will be a Slytherin. She will be powerful. She will be one of us."

A tremendously tense silence.

"She will rise with me."

It all came down to their personality traits. Although she was only a newborn and Chris was two years old, Voldemort could already read their characteristics. While Christian was brave, outgoing and confident, Katerina was determined, self-preserved and ambitious — traits that Voldemort himself prized. And perhaps Voldemort already knew, all those years ago, when Katie was merely an infant, that she possessed some of his powers, like the ability to speak Parseltongue.

"But you know I am telling the truth," Voldemort said, a wicked smile twisting onto his snake-like face. "Have you always known? Have you always known, and just been too afraid to admit it?"

Katie got to her feet so quickly that she was surprised her chair didn't topple and the force with which it was pushed. She made a dash for the door but Voldemort gave a lazy flick of his wand, and even when Katie heaved at the doorknob, the door would not budge.

Katie wrenched out her wand and desperately cried, "Alohomora!"

Still, the door remained bolted shut by invisible restraints.

"Let me go." Katie said without turning around, but she knew that she was in no fit state to make demands. She was locked in a room with one of the most powerful Dark wizards to ever walk the earth — the man who was slowly but surely taking down the Wizarding world.

Voldemort let out a high-pitched chuckle, so dreadful that it made Katie's blood run cold.

"Ever since my return to power, I've been trying to persuade you to join me. Why, after you have finally come to me, would I let you go?"

"I didn't come for you," Katie spat. "I came for Draco."

"So naïve, so easily manipulated," Voldemort hummed. Despite Katie's attempts to escape, he did not once stand up or make any sudden movement to indicate that he had any desire to leave his tall-backed chair. "You have demonstrated how simple human emotions, such as love, can make a person weak."

"I don't love him." she shot back quickly.

Something odd flashed through Voldemort's gleaming red eyes — was it knowingness, perhaps?

"But you care for him," Voldemort pursued, an eerie conversational tone to his voice. Never, not once did Katie imagine that her first face-to-face meeting with Lord Voldemort himself would consist of nothing but a civil conversation. "And that, Katerina, is your weakness."

For the first time since Katie had entered Malfoy Manor, Voldemort got to his feet. He stood up so swiftly that Katie was almost convinced he had Apparated a foot to his right. Now that he was standing, Katie saw just how much he towered over her in height (although most people did — she was quite short — but Voldemort was intimidating tall and looming). His black cloak swept and rippled around his ankles like mysterious murky water, and his red eyes glittered as they moved through the light shining from the chandelier overhead.

"Let go," Voldemort said in a snake-like hiss. "Let go of your emotions, let go of your empathy. They only hold you back. Let go, and unleash your true power."

"I don't have any unspoken power!" Katie exploded — she couldn't help herself. Her fury of being lured into a trap and straight into Voldemort's clutches was surfacing and overwhelming the fear that she had been feeling these past few minutes. "I don't know what you want with me!"

Voldemort froze and considered the girl for a moment as she shrunk under his cold stare.

"After the new year, you will return to Hogwarts, and with Severus Snape and the Malfoy boy at your side, you will take down the school from the inside." Voldemort ordered calmly, he devilish eyes firmly fixed on his pale daughter.

Katie hesitated and, despite her fear, said, quite firmly, "No."

Voldemort sucked in a sharp breath. His grip tightened on his wand. Clearly, he was resisting the urge to strike Katie with a curse.

"No?" he echoed venomously. "You dare defy me?"

"You won't kill me," Katie said. "You need me. I have nothing to be afraid of."

And suddenly, the fear of being in the presence of Lord Voldemort, one of the most powerful users of Dark magic ever known, was washed away like a wave swallowing small pebbles from the sand on a beach.

He would not kill her. He needed her on his side. Maybe he would hurt her, he might even use the Cruciatus Curse on her, but he could not risk torturing her into madness, and Katie had endured the Cruciatus Curse before at the hands of Maria Blair. How poetic it would be that she would suffer the Cruciatus Curse at the hands of both her mother and her father.

All of a sudden, the horror of the reality that Maria had carried and birthed Voldemort's children struck Katie. Perhaps, she thought, that all those years ago, Voldemort did not look as horrifying as he did now. If Katie recalled correctly, Harry had actually thought the young Tom Riddle was quite handsome. Katie assumed that it was the act of splitting his soul

into pieces that stripped Voldemort of his humanity, both inside and out.

As well of this, Katerina's mother was not exactly young. She was born in 1940, meaning that she was now fifty eight, or at least approaching that age in the coming months, although, there was still something youthful to her appearance. Maybe it was just due to the fact that she was blonde, but the last time Katie had seen her, Maria had no grey hairs. Her forehead was slightly lined, but other than that, she did not look a day over forty. She could still move and fight as if she were twenty-two.

"I'm not your puppet, I'm not a Death Eater, you can't order me around."

Voldemort's blood-red eyes were alive with rage. The little facial features he possessed were contorted with fury and, were he not already as pale as a ghost, Katie was sure that his knuckles would be whitening drastically at the strain with which he was clutching his wand.

In one, fleeting, fearful moment, Voldemort flourished his wand, and the pain swept over Katie. The familiar sensation of her bones and nerves bursting into flames numbed her senses. She had been struck with the Cruciatus Curse before, but somehow, this time, it was more terrible, more agonising. And this time, no one was coming to save her. Ron and Ginny weren't there.

"You will rise with me!" Voldemort bellowed over Katerina's reverberating screams. "It is your birthright to rule!"

The pain disappeared, and Katie was left panting and twitching on the cold, polished floor. She could not see Voldemort — he wasn't standing over her, but by the way his loud voice carried through the room, he might have been right next to her.

"You and I, and you and I alone, are the heirs of Slytherin — the last descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself!" Voldemort shouted. The sound of his enraged voice was almost as horrible as the Cruciatus Curse. "You will join me! You have no choice!"

Despite the aching in her diaphragm, despite the fact that her lungs felt as though they were being tightly compressed, Katie managed to speak in a slightly wheezy voice.

"What happens if I refuse?"

Voldemort grunted angrily.

"You will join me," he repeated, much more quietly than before, but there he something about the whisper that was more harrowing than his screams of anger. "Whether by choice, or by force. You will rise, Katerina."

With tremendous effort, Katie pushed herself to her feet — her arms shaking violently beneath her. She was weak and staggered on her feet, thanks to the Cruciatus Curse, the slight tingle of which she could still feel pulsing through her veins.

"Never." she spat.

Voldemort stared at her mutinously. "We shall see."

He swiped his wand again and Katie leapt back in fear. However, he had only unlocked the door, which swung open to reveal Lucius, Narcissa and Bellatrix, all staring open-mouthed and wide-eyed into the room. They were wearing the looks of criminals who had been caught red handed burgling a shop. Somehow, they trio looked even paler than they had before, and their expressions showed the same amount of fear that Katie was feeling.

"Listening, were we?" Voldemort hissed menacingly.

Narcissa edged closer to her husband, seeking reassurance and protection. Bellatrix, on the other hand, let out a cry of desperation, throwing herself to her knees. Katie gazed, bewildered. Never in a million years would she have pictured the terrifying, cruel Bellatrix Lestrange dropping to her knees at the feet of another.

"My Lord, forgive me," Bellatrix gasped, her sunken eyes now alive with alarm. "But is — is it true? Is the girl really your daughter?"

Voldemort straightened up and tucked his wand inside his robe; Katie felt a great sense of relief as he done so, as did the Malfoys, apparently, because they both visibly relaxed and their shoulders slumped.

"It is true." Voldemort said simply.

Bellatrix's bottom lip quivered and her eyes widened even further — something that Katie

didn't think was even possible.

"And Maria — Maria—?"

"Maria Blair, or should I say, Maria Irvine, is Katerina's mother."

Bellatrix let out an audible gasp. "But how—?"

"I met Maria when she was only a fourth year student at Hogwarts," Voldemort broke into story, though, judging by his tone of voice, he was deeply aggravated by all of Bellatrix's questions. "I had long since left Hogwarts myself, but the young girl spoke of how much she admired me and my preachings, and we formed a friendship. I would often write to her, checking up on her, asking how her studies were going and giving her advice. When she left school, she came straight to me and expressed her longing to join my ranks. I trained her, properly, in the Dark Arts, and when I put forth my desire for a child, one to share the power of Salazar Slytherin and help me to conquer all, Maria was more than happy to bear such a child for me."

"My Lord," Bellatrix whispered, bowing her head. This was obviously meant to be an act of respect. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Why should I?" Voldemort's voice rang dauntingly through the room and Katie saw Bellatrix shiver. Then, Voldemort turned to the Malfoys. "Narcissa, please escort my daughter to your most comfortable bedroom. She will be staying for Christmas."

Nodding immediately, Narcissa rushed forwards, her blonde hair whipping out behind her. But as the woman stretched out a hand for Katie, the girl stepped back, shaking her head.

"I'm not saying here. Let me go," she paused. "Now." she added firmly.

Narcissa's pupils dilated, the shrank, and she glanced wildly between Voldemort and his daughter. All it took, however, was one piecing glare from the Dark Lord and Narcissa placed a hand on the small of Katie's back and steered her from the room.

Only when they were safely up the stairs and out of earshot it Voldemort did Narcissa dare to speak.

"Thank you," she whispered dreadfully quietly, as though she was scared Voldemort could still hear her. Katie looked aside at the woman and blinked slowly, perplexed. "Thank you for looking out for my son."

"But, Mrs Malfoy, he wasn't actually here." Katie countered.

They had stopped outside a black door with a handle that was designed to look like a silver serpent.

"But you thought he was," Narcissa gave a small smile. "You saw that he was in danger and you came straight to his aid, despite the fact that you knew you were walking right into the Dark Lord's clutches, and for that, I am forever indebted to you."

Narcissa bowed her head to show her utmost gratitude and tears swam in her pale eyes, and for the first time, Katie saw her as not a twisted Death Eater, but a loving mother who only wanted what was best for her son.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy, but you need to know that I haven't forgiven him," Katie said sadly, shaking her head. "I — I can't."

Narcissa looked disheartened but she smiled understandingly. Then, she reached out for the serpentine handle and pushed the door

open, revealing the grandest bedroom that Katie had ever seen.

The walls were a rich, dark purple, as were the bedsheets, while the pillows, bed hangings and curtains were thick, black velvet. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, dazzling the room in miraculous sparkling light. A large piano sat in the far corner, accompanied by a violin, next to a grand dresser. The room was also equipped with a black marble fireplace, in which enchanted flames were already dancing. Bookshelves lined one of the walls and there were three plush, purple armchairs in the room. Katie gawked around at the sight before her and Narcissa chuckled warmly.

"If it isn't comfortable enough—" the woman began, but Katie hastily cut across her.

"It's — it's wonderful, Mrs Malfoy, I—" Katie had turned around to utter a thanks, but then she looked into the woman's eyes and, despite the fact that she now saw Narcissa Malfoy in a warmer light, she would never thank a woman who was in affiliation with the Dark Lord, who was holding her prisoner — in comfort, maybe, but still prisoner.

Narcissa seemed to understand exactly what Katie was thinking because she nodded, gave one, final smile, and backed away, shutting the door behind her.

As soon as Mrs Malfoy's footsteps died away, Katie did what any sensible person would do — she dashed for the window. She tried to wrench it open but was not surprised to see that it had been enchanted shut. Voldemort was not going to let her escape that easily.

Feeling totally defeated, Katerina threw herself

down onto the purple bed and was overcome with the feeling that she had just sunk down on top of a marshmallow. Tucking her hands beneath her head, she allowed her thoughts to wander and she processed everything that had happened in a few short hours.

All this time, all these years, she had been warning those closest to her that she was dangerous, that there was an unspoken evil resting within her, and now she had proof. She was the daughter of Lord Voldemort, in other words, a mistress of evil. This is what Dumbledore had meant when he said that a piece of Voldemort lived inside of her.

A unexpected wave of loathing for Dumbledore crashed down upon Katie. Why had he not told her? If she had already known the truth then maybe she would not be where she was right now — trapped, helpless, in the home or Death Eaters with her murderous father a floor below her.

For the first time since she had last come face-to-face with her, Katie wondered about her mother. She wondered where she was right now, and if she and Voldemort still obtained that special bond that he was so briefly described. She must be one of his most faithful servants to agree to carry and birth not one, but two of his children. Although, Bellatrix, Katie suspected, would have been more than happy to take up this offer too.

That night was a restless once for Katerina. She law awake staring at the black canopy above her bed, deep regret setting in her stomach until she felt physically sick. She had been tricked. She should never have come to Malfoy Manor. Sure, she finally found out who her real father was, and although she had been desperate to know this information ever since Ollivander let slip that she might not be who she thought, now that she knew who her father was, she wished that she didn't. The thought made her feel contaminated, like she was carrying some kind of deadly virus.

Not only this, but guilt was eating away at her. Vivid images of Harry's face kept flashing through her mind, and try as she might to push the thought of him away, she could not stop herself from seeing his desperate eyes, hearing him begging her not to go. She had promised him she would never leave him again.

"No, I'm never leaving your side. Not again."

And yet, not for the first time, she had chosen Draco over Harry.

***

Katie felt like she had only just drifted off to sleep when there was a gentle tap on the bedroom door. Groaning slightly, she rolled over onto her back and peeled open her eyes. For the briefest of moments, panic flooded her — she did not know where she was, but then the events of the previous day came rushing back to her, and she was overrun with guilt and regret once more.

The bedroom door creaked open, pooling light inside the room. Katie sat up to see her disturber and found the pale face of Narcissa Malfoy gazing at her. Despite the fact that it was the crack of dawn, Narcissa was already wide awake, dressed elegantly and every last hair on her head was smoothly pulled back into an unnaturally neat knot on the top of her head.

"Breakfast is almost ready." Narcissa announced.

"I'm not hungry." Katie hastened her reply, but as soon as the words rolled off her tongue, her stomach gave an aggressive rumble. Narcissa gave her a knowing look then slipped from the room once more.

"The Dark Lord wishes we treat you well. Please don't skip meals." Narcissa called as she closed the door.

Groaning much more loudly than before, Katie got out of bed, feeling the cold chill of the room whip around her as she was rid of her covers.