[Ch 1] The escort

Privet Drive, London. 7:00 p.m.

Ana Potter was sitting in her cupboard as usual, in her creaky cot. Uncle Vernon had locked her here after she was escorted (or more like dragged) by Lucius Malfoy after The Duel, in which Voldemort killed Dumbledore and overtook the Ministry.

Her stomach growled, she had not eaten any food since yesterday morning. Now here she was sitting and waiting; waiting for what she didn't know. Waiting for the cupboard door to be opened… for someone from someone from the dark side to come and get her once her new living arrangements were finalized. Her chain of thoughts was broken with the pounding on the cupboard. Uncle Vernon's head poked in. He threw a pile of clothes at her feet and growled out, "Some of my colleagues are coming here. Get ready to serve them, Freak." He added with a sinister smile. "Do as they say, you wimp, I am not wasting money for buying them one night with a whore when I already one."
With a sinking feeling, she realized with a sinking felling where this was going … She stuttered" B…but, uncle Vernon…" She stopped when she saw his face changing to a sickly Puce. He took a step forward and then another Ana couldn't find much place in the already cramped up cupboard so she found herself trapped between the wall and whale of a man. He raised a meaty hand and she whimpered... the only thing did was to anger him further. He lashed out and backhanded her viciously. Then he grabbed her by throat cutting off her air supply. Black dots began appearing in her vision and she began gasping for breath. Vernon Dursley leaned towards her and breathed in her ear, "Not. a. word. More. You . Freak. Whore."

The almost soft tone sent shivers down her spine because she knew that it held something much more feral if she failed to comply. Then he unceremoniously dropped her on the floor and stalked out of the room.

She looked at the pile of the cloths her had been thrown at her. It was a red cocktail dress ending at mid-calf. It looked beautiful…very beautiful. She gazed longingly at the dress then caressed the silken material, and whispered as if talking to the dress "But you are not for me. I am not beautiful. I'm not beautiful. I'm not even innocent. You will look so much pretty on someone much more worthy." A lone tear trickled down her cheek and far away a lonely, snake like figure woke up with a start in his bed. He touched his face and was shocked to find it wet. That; Dark Lord Voldemort was shocked to find that he was crying and that to without any reason; was the understatement of the century. He shrugged off the feeling of overwhelming sorrow and self-disgust and went back to sleep.

Ana recalled the people who had died because of her- Mum, Dad, Sirius, Cedric, Alastor, Ginny…
She jumped up when she heard a sharp rapping on the door. Aunt Petunia glared at her with disgust and sneered as if she had eaten something sour.
"Listen, you ungrateful girl, Vernon's boss is coming her and you need to entertain

him properly. His promotion depends on how good you do your job." She then grabbed her by wrist and said, "And that means you are not to look freaky."
Then she dragged her into the bathroom. Smudging her lips with a cheap lipstick and smoldering her eyes with mascara and eyeshade, she began roughly tugging her blood chipped, hair with a comb muttering words like "freak", "wasting my make-up" and "not worth it".

Ana looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. A stranger stared back at her.
Blood red lips, forest green eyes and cascading waves and curls of raven black hair, strapless red dress hugging her petite figure. Her eyes devoid of her glasses, looked a unique colour- Forest green with depth and pain of shadowed darkness.

Beautiful.

'That's not me', she thought.' That's Vernon's one night whore '. Lifting her hand and pressing a hand to her heart, once she was left alone by Petunia, where unknown to all a small rune was carved by her, she deactivated the rune. That was the real Anastasia Celest Potter. Covered in bruises and scars, of whips, belts, knives, chains, slaps and punches, of psychological torture and snide comments deflowered and molested, of sorrow and pain of the loss of loved ones. Yes, that was the real Anastasia Celest Potter, the girl-who-lived-to-see-the-others-die-because-of-her.

Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton (CurrentlyUnplottable). 8:30 p.m.

Lord Voldemort sat imperiously on his throne just after dismissing his followers, listening to Snape's information he gathered on a mission. He spokesoftly,"Severus, what about the prestigious Girl-who-lived?"
Snape remained silent kneeling but narrowed his eyes at the name." Yes, my lord."The Dark Lord continued as if he had never heard him."We will have to find new living arrangements for Potter. What do you know of her current living arrangements, Severus?I presume she lives with her family."

Severus swallowed with difficulty before answering, "My lord, if I may?"Getting the required permission, he continued, "Potter is a good for nothing brat, who is just like her father-cocky, arrogant and struts around the school as if she owns it. Dumbledore hadn't told me much but I can as well guess that the brat who lived is fairly pampered, coddled and spoiled by her relatives; it is only feasible as Dumbledore gave them allowance for her "all expenses that were required to bring her up". All her escapades during the school recent years have already solidified my views regarding her attitude."

Dark Lord looked thoughtful, "Then Severus do you not believe that we ought to knock the Golden Princess a few peg down. What do you say about a muggle orphanage?" Not waiting for his answer, he ordered Snape to bring her to the manor tonight itself. "Lucius and Bella will handle the rest". Turning his back, he walked out of the room, "Dismissed."

Privet Drive, London. 8:10 p.m.

Ana turned out walking into the storeroom for a new bottle of red wine. Uncle Vernon's friends had arrived half an hour ago and she was forced to serve them drinks in her rather revealing dress. It was just the beginning. What happens when you put a pretty girl in red in a room with drunk men? Flirting, inappropriate touching, verbal abuse molestation. She had walked into the store her face a stoic mask, when suddenly meaty arms grabbed her from behind. 'Oh, no. Not this". She thought as she was whirled around forcibly. Rough chapped lips crashed onto hers, biting harshly drawing blood as she resisted. Meaty large hands were roaming freely on her body. She screamed, but her screams were muffled by the brute's lips...

Outside the room…

Vernon Dursley was in a good mood tonight. At least, the good for nothing freak was good at whoring around. 'Who knows maybe they could play strippers for a while. "Vernon, mate, got a nice one tonight, "John his boss being drunk, commented. Vernon grinned, "I have, 'aven't I?"
Someone knocked at the door, a bit too loudly for his liking. He opened the door, grumbling, his eyes widening as he saw a pale, tall man, wearing black robes, his
shoulder length greasy hair, a scowl fixed on his face as if it has been there sitting there

for years.
Severus Snape sneered, "Send Potter." Vernon gulped and scampered in. He started putting an act in order to one up the freak. If this freak came to know what was going on he was done for...
"Ana! Ana!", he called out in a sing song voice, "Come down with your trunk, someone is here for you."

In the storeroom…

Ana heard her uncle calling her; she bit hard on the hand of her molester and slipped out of his clumsy uncoordinated grip. It was no surprise years of seeker practice tends to make people expert to manoeuvring out of tight spots, especially if you are the youngest seeker of the century and have won all the games you have played. She ran upstairs where she knew her trunk was kept.

Severus Snape was getting impatient. What was taking the brat so long to come downstairs? He looked around and observed that the house was shiny and that sparkling kind of clean that instantly reminded him of people that kept up false fronts for the world to see and hide the real selves behind a facade. It instantly reminded him of Petunia and obviously now the same saint Potter he was waiting for since five minutes. Really, what was he a page waiting for her royal highness to grace him with her presence?

Looking around once more he found that all the photos of the muggle and his wife Petunia and the fat lump they called their son were looking at him. 'not
even one photo of Potter brat', he thought, 'Certainly she is too arrogant to consider her relatives worthy to be seen with her. He turned and saw Potter holding her trunk awkward in one hand and smoothening he dress with other. Snape sneered obviously having the wrong idea, "Trouble in paradise miss Potter?" She blushed bright red and stumbled from exhaustion and starvation. "Take off your heels brat."Glaring she took off her heels. Snape grabbed her arm and apparated to the Riddle manor.

Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton (CurrentlyUnplottable). 8:30 p.m.

Silently gasping from the pain in her broken wrist where Snape grabbed her from the apparition point. Severus appeared a moment later, hissing in a low menacing voice, "There is a reason why alcohol is prohibited for minors" and stalked in. She winced and was still taking hard, harsh breaths when she started dragging her trunk in the manor with her broken wrists.

Upon exiting Voldemort's study, she saw himmutteringsomething, rubbing his forehead (which really seemed a human gesture for all his snake snake-like appearance) and grabbing a glass of fire-whiskey and downing it in one gulp. Voldemort was feeling something off since Ana showed up.

It was as if something primal had been unlocked in him. He delved into his mind. He often used his mindscape to escape the bloody gore the war created. He scanned every location of his mindscape and found a tunnel through the forest. He often used his mindscape to escape the blood and gore the war created. He scanned every location of his mindscape and soon found the inconsistency that he was looking for... The reason for his gut instinct that something was wrong.
He found a tunnel through the forest. Without stopping to consider the risk of the "unknown", he entered the tunnel. Sliding down, he started walking into its deeper recesses. This was a new location and a part of him, a tiny one at that was having the juvenile enjoyment of discovering something new.
The tunnel was gloomy and black and he felt the desperation, solitude and pain in stream, steadily flowing through his being. He started when he touched his face only to come up short when he saw his wet fingers. A furious wave of loathing and a tiny amount of apprehension flew through his being... What was this strange place which had made him weep? Subconsciously he wondered which stage of his life has suffered so much pain and desolation from world? Why was he feeling betrayed and ... hurt? He marvelled at the fact that a soulless person like him could actually feel such emotions. For the first time in his life Tom Marvolo Riddle was terrified.
Stumbling out of the dark tunnel, he landed in an entirely different scape. It was entirely dark and spook, he casted a 'lumos' and looked around." Such a dark place, is it really mine?" not for a moment suspecting that he was in a different mindscape altogether.

Riddle Manor- Guest wing

Ana has never been comfortable in her sleep. Tonight was no different. She was escorted to the guest wing of the Manor where house-elves had shown her the bedroom which could easily have been a hedonist's dream come true. She walked barefoot on the plush carpets soaking the comfort of the softness in her sore and sprained feet. 'The carpet is fluffier than my bed's mattress,' a random thought floated in her mind as she trailed behind the house elves as she thought about the few previous minutes when she was taken to Voldemort...

Ana walked into the study she was to go inside of which. Snape had walked in a few minutes earlier and walked out after a seemingly low murmured conversation. Right now she was standing in front of Him and waiting for the conversation to be initiated from the other side.
"Ana Potter, "He crooned, "what a pleasant surprise it must be to Severus when he must have walked into your perfect little party and finding you ...Ahem... involved with someone" with his perfectly patrician nose looking down at her. Ana looked down and spoke stiffly, "I was not flirting with anyone if that is what you mean to say." He sneered viciously, "It is not the matter of what I want to say, rather it is what your lipstick wishes to say." She flinched but did not let it show. If Voldemort noticed he too did not let it show."I do not appreciate being led to."He spoke softly but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. She knew she could not do anything. If anything her resistance would only resume what she went through at the Dursleys'. So she replied quietly," Yes sir," using the same phrase that she used to address one Vernon Dursley. If this were the olden times he would have been smug about how easily he broke Potter. But his intuition told him something not quite right here. So he dismissed her pretty quickly and ordered the house-elves to escort her to the guest wing and resumed his position at the easy-chair near the fireplace with a crystal tumbler of Odgen's firewhiskey.
So here she was, huddled beside the bedroom door after recasting her glamour charms, curled up in a foetal whimpering from nightmares...
Voldemort's Study

Tom heard a scurrying noise and shout; he whirled around to see a long dark corridor to see a long dark corridor with doors on either side. Curiosity he opened the door, almost cursed out loud, almost cursed out loud, 'almost' being the keyword.
A small girl was huddled inside of a cupboard whispering to a spider on her palm," Uncle Vernon will kill me now, I burnt his shirt. But what could have I done, the iron was giving a nasty shock whenever I touched it", all while wringing her hands like a distraught house elf. He then heard the loud thumping coming from downstairs indicating someone was coming up. He did not fail to notice how the little girl trembled and huddled up in the corner as the footsteps came closer, shaking like a tree leaf in autumn wind. His mind was still frozen. Who was this girl? She did look somewhat familiar. Was she from his past? Black hair and a red streak which only glinted in sunlight... Yes, he knew her, certain that he had seen her, but was unable to recognize her. His train of thoughts was interrupted by a small whimper of pain by the girl's lips. He turned his head to see a meaty hand grabbing her by her hair. The girl barely looked about nine but he could tell she was very skinny and petite for her age, obviously because of the lack of food. His demeanour changed from cold and calculating to furious. The man was obviously going too far. She looked at him right where he was standing and suddenly instead of seeing the incident as a third person, he started seeing the incident with her perspective. The man took away her innocence; as he was seeing it, to him it seemed that it was he who the man was violating, forcing himself upon. He was terrified and perplexed. He realized that it was not him who felt such but the girl... and apparently he was experiencing everything from the girl's point of view. He felt the pain as desperation of the dove as her innocence was ripped away from her brutally. He felt the girl frozen in shock and trauma, unable to grasp what had bygone her. Silent tears were falling from her eyes. He was unable to move. He felt the feelings the victims felt when they were brutalized. Absently making a mental note to order his Death-eaters never ever to put anyone in such position, he stood helplessly as the girl slipped into a catatonic state...

Ana sat up gasping for breath, she was trying hard to suppress a panic attack. When she was sure she would live, sitting up on the carpet on which she had slept, she leaned on the edge of the bed gulping large breaths of air like a drowned man greedy for air.
Giving up after a while that she would not be able to sleep anymore, as was her routine, she stood up and started searching for her journal to oust some pent up frustration and helplessness.

Voldemort snapped his eyes open to wonder what was that...a voice chanting in his head, slowly whispering,'Sodalis Animus', 'Sodalis Animus'...
He looked up as if electrocuted and a word, if only a whisper escaped his lips-"Soul-Mate".

Author's Note:-
So very extremely sorry, but the transition from school to uni has been very hectic and then the mid-term exam consumed my energy..

Not that this will be a regular occurrence in future but expect a new chapter latest within a month of previous updation..

Anyway this chapter has been extended and revised. Enjoy and REVIEW..