Disclaimer: I own nothing familiar from the HP Universe. All that is familiar comes from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling. Certain facts such as dates used are taken from the timelines found on the HPLexicon.

This story is one that I have posted as a second person fic on youfiction. Now, I'm finally posting it as a third person story with a few minor changes. This story was written pre-HBP and while I'm going to be adding to it, I've decided to make it an AU instead of trying to make it fit the last two books or at least HBP which is out at the moment.. The main character, Artemisia is the daughter of Death Eater Nott, who is mentioned in PoA and in OotP. I have taken the liberty to give him a first name of Edward, but he is never given a first name in the books. I, like most other readers, am under the impression that Theodore Nott is his son. He is first mentioned in PS and he is thought to be the stringy boy who can see the thestrals in OotP. The last bit about the character is that she is the Ravenclaw prefect in the same year as the Weasley twins. The story begins on Platform 9 ¾ at the end of Artemisia's sixth year. I try to follow cannon as closely as possible, so there will be brief author notes at the end of certain chapters with page numbers from OotP, which is the book that this story follows. The only major change from the original story is the addition of Slughorn and some pieces from Sirius's view point.

Chapter One

Artemisia grabbed the handle of her trunk and gave it a good tug, causing it to hit the platform with a bone-jarring thud. She let out a sigh at the thought of pulling it all the way to where the carts were. She looked up to find Aden Montague bearing down on her. She had known Aden all of her life, but had always been less than pleased with the way he treated her. He saw her as a possession. Of course, that was the way that all the male pureblood wizards treated her, at least those that were considered to be the right type of purebloods. They treated her and every other female as if they were some mindless waste, except for their bloodlines.

The only thing that kept Aden and all the rest of the pureblood males from doing anything to her was Marcus Flint. That was, in a way, expected, as with most pureblooded families, who wanted to stay that way, the two had been promised to one another since Artemisia was seven years old. Marcus was the only one that was allowed to touch her. Not that he did, he seemed to think she was only another gutless female who would fall to his bidding when the time came. Artemisia wasn't about to tread on his impressions of her. The less she had to do with Marcus the better she felt. Her stomach turned every time the two were paired for social occasions. As soon as she left Hogwarts, her life as Mrs. Marcus Flint was scheduled to begin.

Artemisia sighed as she pushed a strand of honey coloured hair out of her eyes. She knew she had no say in the matter, like so many others in her life. Still, she couldn't help but be irritated by it. She wondered idly what it would be like to be one of the other girls who attended Hogwarts. Earlier that year, she had dated Roger Davies, until he broke it off with her for Fleur Delacour. Her father's reaction to the news that she was dating someone was to tell her it was fine as long as it was ended the moment she left Hogwarts so she could fulfil her duty to the Cause.

The Cause was something that had been stuffed down Artemisia's throat for as long as she could remember. It was the ruling factor in her life. Everything she did was affected by it. The Cause set down what was expected from her and if she didn't live up to expectations there would be hell to pay. Artemisia glanced over at the other students, without a conscious thought, her mind sorted everyone she saw into two categories, acceptable and not. This was the way things were and she knew she was powerless when it came to changing it.

"Here, Artemisia." Aden came to a stop before the girl. "I got you a cart." He tossed her trunk upon it without much effort.

"Thank you." Artemisia gave him a brief nod, but didn't bother giving him a fake smile. That would only make him think she wanted attention of a more personal nature. She hated having to tiptoe in every situation in hopes of not making the wrong move. "I've got it from here. Have you seen Theodore?" The urge to get to the relative safety of her room had increased as she scanned the crowded platform with its many eyes that seemed to be judging her every move. She hated the feeling that she was unable to live up to even her own expectations of how she was suppose to be, not that she didn't some times wonder if it wasn't her own expectations but the ones drilled into her by her father that she wasn't living up to.

"He's talking to Draco." He pointed in the direction and she left him by the train. She walked towards her brother, slightly amused by the way he seemed taller than the other boys except Blaise Zabini. Lost in thought, halfway to her brother, Artemisia bumped into a cart with enough force to overturn it. The group of Slytherins surrounding her brother, burst into the laughter as the girl's trunk opened and her positions tumbled on the ground before her and Artemisia.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Artemisia exclaimed as she helped the girl gather everything back into the trunk. After the two finished, Artemisia looked at her. Her first thought was that she had just helped a mudblood with her things and how her father was going to react to such an action. Then another thought came to her. What was so wrong with helping someone? She glanced towards her brother who is staring at her. 'Teddy needs to see that how we were raised might not be right.' She turned back to the girl and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry about that. It was entirely my fault."

"Thank you for helping me pick everything up." She replied with a smile. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Artemisia Nott." She could see it in the girl's brown eyes. She seemed to withdraw from her as if Artemisia was contaminated or something.

"It was nice meeting you." Hermione announced hurriedly and then rushed off. Artemisia stood in the same spot, staring after her retreating form, wondering if she had done the right thing.

"I wouldn't think that you had the nerve to do something like that." Warrington announced as he shook his head at the blonde.

"Perhaps someone should tell Marcus about what he's getting into with you." Draco Malfoy grinned as he eyed the girl. "He always liked his girls to have a little spice to them."

Something seemed to snap inside Artemisia as she stood before this group. "There is nothing wrong with what I did." She exclaimed, her dark green eyes narrowing. "It would just seem that I have more common courtesy than the rest of you."

"It would seem that your sister is turning into a bit of a mudblood lover." Warrington trailed a finger across her cheek. "Pity about that. Your father or Marcus will have to teach her some proper behaviour." Her stomach turned. She hadn't thought of how her father would react to her little show of impertinence. "She looks like she might bruise easily."

"Go to hell, Warrington." Artemisia smacked his hand away. "Theodore, we are leaving now." He turned towards his sister as if to object but something in her eyes changed his mind. He had never seen such a swirl of emotion in her eyes before. He followed her off the platform and watched as she waved down a taxicab. As the driver loaded their belongings, he looked questioningly at the owl. "Science experiment." Artemisia informed him as the two got in.

"Father wouldn't be happy with that." He muttered.

"Well, he's not going to be happy with me anyway, so what difference does it make?" She didn't know what's gotten into her but as she started to think about what she had done and why, Artemisia found herself questioning all she had been raised to believe.

"Missy, I don't want you to get hurt, but you will if you continue to act this way." Teddy announced after a few minutes of silence. He hadn't used his nickname for his sister since he started at Hogwarts four years earlier. It tugged at her heart. Since their mother had died, Artemisia had spent every moment possible giving Teddy all the love and affection that she knew would never come from their father or would be willing to receive from either of them.

The car pulled to a stop before Nott Manor and Artemisia paid the driver. He gave a whistle of appreciation of the place, before getting back into the car and driving away. Artemisia shivered as she looked up at the house. It didn't look half as dark as it was inside. As soon as they entered the coolness of the foyer, the house elves appeared to take their things and ask if there was anything else they needed. She shook her head but Teddy was soon ordering them about. Her eyes are drawn away from her brother and to the staircase that spread out before her. Each time she returned to the manor from school, the memories of that staircase fell over her in a haze that forced her to relive that night, when you were only six. She glanced at her brother. Teddy had been there too, a small skinny toddler of four. He didn't seem to remember what had happened but as she stood there, Artemisia is once more six years old and helpless to stop what is happening before her.

Her parents are leaving for some type of commitment. Her mother is beautiful in her dress robes of dark green and her dark blonde hair is pulled up in a mass of curls atop her head. She always had a ready smile for her children. Her parents are talking quietly but intensely as they come down the stairs. They pause at the landing. Her mother puts her hand on her father's arm.

"I don't like it, Eddie." Her voice trailed down towards Artemisia and Teddy at the bottom of the staircase. "He's a mean child and he will just become meaner as he ages just like his father."

"Sabrina, that is enough. We sign the papers tonight as we should have done when she was born." Her father jerked his arm from her grasp. He seemed aggravated as he continued. Artemisia knew that they were arguing over her as they had been for months now. "The Flints are a fine family. They are respectable and their bloodlines are pure."

"Their bloodlines?" Her mother's voice takes on a hysterical note. "Will you listen to yourself, Eddie? What about her happiness? Doesn't she deserve happiness, like we have? To hell with the bloodlines, I'd rather see her married to a muggle than the unhappiness this will bring her."

"Don't say such things, Sabrina. I'll see her dead before she marries a muggle or a mudblood." He announced savagely as he gripped her arms. "We must keep faith with the Cause."

"Damn your Cause." Her mother yells. "Don't you understand, Eddie? The Cause will never win. Your Lord is dead. It is over."

Artemisia had never been sure about what happened next, if her father pushed her mother or if she fell because she had been off balance after pulling her arms out of his grasp. The only thing she knew was that one moment her mother was alive and vibrant and the next she was nothing more than a crumpled heap on the floor in front of her. She pulled herself from the memories upon hearing her name being called. 'He can't know already.' She thought as she moved down the hall towards her father's study. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves before knocking on the hardwood of the door.

"Come in, Artemisia." His voiced drifted through the small space that the door was open. She entered the room that spoke of her father as no other room in the house did. Immediately, she felt dominated and helpless to act in any way. She was in his power and that was all there was to it. "Sit down. We are long over due for a talk." Artemisia sat down in one of the large winged chairs and focused her gaze on her hands. "Look at me, Artemisia." She raised her eyes and concentrated on not showing the fear that she felt. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she questioned this feeling that had ruled her life. Her father stood up and walked to the window. Her eyes followed his stooped figure with apprehension. "You have the looks of your mother, but have a better mind than even myself." A new feeling began to Artemisia, one that she had rarely felt in the presence of the man before her, pride. "This is why I am not going to gentle my words for you." He turned and looked down at her. "Your behaviour on the platform was disgraceful. I will not hear of you doing such a thing again. That said, there is another thing that I must speak to you of." He sat back down at his desk and steepled his hands as his dark eyes watched her. "As you have heard talk of at school, there is a rumour that the Dark Lord has returned." He paused and she gave a nod of understanding. "It is true." Artemisia's heart seemed to have stop beating. She had heard the rumours about her family's connection to You-Know-Who, but had never believed it. Now, as she sat in her father's dark study, it becomes clear that they were not just rumours but the truth. Artemisia barely registered her father's next words, but they hit her like a bludger to the stomach anyway. "Lucius Malfoy has made mention to the Dark Lord of you."

"About me?" She questioned. "What about me?" She shrank back into her chair unable to think of what about her could have caught Malfoy's attention. She had met him once and that had been at the end of the previous summer, while getting her supplies for the school year in Diagon Alley. He had spoken to her father and then asked her how she had done on her OWLs. She had gotten fifteen.

"You are a very intelligent witch, Artemisia." Her father smiled at her. "The Dark Lord would have you join him. To become one of his followers." He paused and looked at her. "Go upstairs and think about what is being asked of you. The Flints will arrive shortly for dinner. When they leave, we will speak again."

Artemisia left the room feeling numb. This could not possibly be happening to her. Things like this weren't supposed to happen at all. She thought back on what she had heard of his rise to power before he tried to kill Harry Potter. She wanted to say no. She felt she had to say no. There was nothing that could change her mind. With a stubbornness that she didn't know she had, she knew what she must tell her father when she was asked again.

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