A/N: I DO NOT own any part of the HP franchise. Sorry it's been awhile. But I will finish this story so matter how long it takes I promise that…and it's a very long time from being finished.

5: The true master of manipulation

September 14th, 1942

Liliana stared at herself in the mirror Bernice had brought into the room from home; a mirror which projected its viewer in the depiction of their mood.

For example, on a day where a girl felt bright and cherry, pretty as a perfect flower her skin glowed in the mirror and her eyes shined more brightly. She walked around with a perked up head all day with the knowledge that she looked splendid in her robes which fit better than ever.

And if the viewer was sad? Well she would find herself staring at a blemish-ridden and dark-circle plagued ghoul of a woman whose hair looked greasy and limp and whose cheeks sagged with small jowls brought about by too much rhubarb pie.

And how did Liliana look on that day? To anyone else her usual self, clad in a sleek tailored dark dress with a white collar and matching gloves. Pearls draped her neck beneath a netted hat which covered her face. Of course she was any other upper-class student permitted off the grounds for a jaunty trip to Hogsmeade, but the mirror knew better.

Beneath coats of eye gel and deep red lipstick Liliana knew her worried eyes and wrinkled forehead told the story of a girl who faced the horrid inevitable, and indeed as she thought of the prospect of spending a sickening evening in bed with her stepfather it was just as horrid and inevitable as ever.

Making sure her hat sat perfectly atop her raven waves Scarlett gave herself a final seal of approval before sighing deeply, heart pounding in her chest wildly. Her stomach churned like the depths of a great salty ocean and she prayed she would not vomit once more.

Stepping out of the dormitory she made her way down the steps, looking around the stuffy Slytherin Common Room where Charles sat in a chair talking animatedly with a Seventh-Year who Liliana knew to be the Quidditch Captain.

Back turned to her, Charles's head whipped around as the boy nodded towards Liliana. Jostled by other students headed towards the entrance she stepped aside and placed her hand on the armchair which Charles sat in, nodding to his companion.

"Well I'd best be going." Said his friend, nodding at Liliana as he departed. Charles stood up, straightening his jacket then turned around and grinned at her, running a hand through his dark waves.

"Are you ready to go dear?" he asked, that wide smile creeping onto his face that Liliana despised. Instead of sneering and grabbing his head, shoving it violently into the fireplace as she longed to she waited for his soft kiss as she quietly thought to herself.

Doing this will hurt him more than anything else. Remember that.

And with that she took his arm, letting him lead her through the door as they headed into a sea of strolling classmates.

As they stepped outside of the castle gates Liliana glanced up at the early-fall sun which rose high above the Forbidden Forest. It was a bit cooler than usual for this time of year, signaling the arrival of earlier winter temperatures in later months to come.

Listening absent-mindedly as Charles talked beside her she thought about what was to come as she always did when she was to expect a humiliating probing from Cyril. She had been working on Memory Charms, perhaps she could easily lead him into forgetting his infatuation with her.

But where would that lead him? Again and again he persisted that as his flesh and blood he would never see Elizabeth as anything more than his daughter, but she was on the verge of her teens. What was to happen when suddenly she faced puberty as well? Would he still see her as his "little treasure", or leer lustily the way he did after Liliana.

Of course no matter how abhorrent his actions Liliana couldn't stop herself from defending him. It was true that she looked older than she was, and was not truly related to Cyril. In fact he had told her that even after he had married her mother he never truly looked at her and felt a connection as his stepdaughter. Her progression into womanhood only seemed to further distance Cyril from any paternal feelings he had, seeing her indeed as just a relative of his wife.

Still, his actions were retched by in the end he treated them right. He cared for them, provided for them, and Liliana knew if she ever needed a great deed Cyril would have it done—not for fear of blackmail, but for the way he treated people.

Clutching Charles' arm tightly she thought back to the previous day where she had taken great care to avoid as many people as possible. Retreating to an abandoned classroom she sought solitary under the guise of practicing her Charms spells, but truly she found herself buried in a Dark Arts book reading up on the horrible curses and their effects on their victims.

It was astounding to Liliana how little power cost. All it took was fear and intimidation, even a man could become a King. The Dark Arts had always fascinated her. How could they not? The very branch of magic which surrounded itself in death, perhaps one of the most confounding subjects to Liliana. It seemed dreadful, to make a life of memories only to have them stamped out with the siren call of misfortune whether that be natural or not.

There were potions that could cause pain and hexes to instill misery. There were curses that could send a man begging for a death which would never come and it was this supreme power that fascinated Liliana. She could imagine herself standing above all those who had ever wronged her. And she would make them suffer, and she would be both feared and loved.

Without many words, she had sneaked into Charles' bed in the middle of the night only for physical comfort and took over his body in a way which tired him out quickly much to her satisfaction.

Even as she spent the night staring out the window, thinking of the day to come she began to feel a strange ease as she thought about all the beautiful dark curses she had read of and what they could do.

They first made their way to Honeydukes, battling through the crowds of excited students all intent on the same thing. Stepping into the busy shop she and Charles weaved their way in and out of the mob as he pointed out the sweets and treats that had once mesmerized Liliana beyond words.

She remembered walking into the candy shop for the first time and gazing in awe at the mounds of chocolate, brightly colored candies, and oddities that extended wall to wall. Picking up a bar of Honeydukes Best Chocolate she clutched it tightly and grabbed a sugar quill for Beth.

As Charles sorted through several pieces of toffee Liliana glanced out the window and watched as a lone boy strode down High Street alone, looking out of place in a sea of people who talked animatedly amongst each other. No one would have noticed him, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets but Liliana could have spotted his dark hair a mile away; Tom Riddle.

What he was doing in Hogsmeade alone she did not know. In fact, as she thought about it she realized she had never actually seen him in Hogsmeade before. In all of her trips she had of course seen his usual gang buzzing about but for him to be walking the streets alone was nothing short of intriguing.

She watched him walk down the street until he had disappeared from view then returned to Charles who brandished a large bag of candy. As they made for the counter Liliana glanced at the elegant watch around her wrist then nudged Charles, letting him know it was time to leave.

Quickly he paid for their candy and they walked to The Three Broomsticks where Liliana was to meet Cyril. Of course the man who knew all secrets of the Wizarding world would indeed know when Liliana's school was to organize a Hogsmeade trip. And Cyril used these trips to the best of his advantage—forcing Liliana into his bed.

Under the pretense of spending a day in London he booked a room at The Three Broomsticks, then lead Liliana up where he would have her way with her and return her to the castle (not without a sweeping tour of Hogwarts of course). And each and every time Liliana succumbed as always, knowing if she did not there was the possibility of splitting up their family.

Stepping back onto the center street, Liliana listened to Charles talk as they made their way to The Three Broomsticks, occasionally nodding and agreeing with him though she never once knew a word of what he said. As they stepped into the packed bar.

Immediately, Liliana found her stepfather in the center of the inn, waving his arms around magnificently as he entertained a crowd of people. Always boisterous and commanding attention, Cyril played the role of a massive sun everywhere he went. People grouped around him, fascinated by his many tales and magnificent robes though Liliana knew beneath the glamour he was a small man with little to brag about.

Pushing through the group she arrived at Cyril's table and noted four empty glasses, and a fifth in his hand full of brown liquor. Swirling it around dangerously as he talked he glanced up at Liliana who pulled out a chair across from him followed by Charles, standing nervously behind her.

"Well that's enough. And here's my lovely stepdaughter and this git." He drank, and the crowd laughed as Charles flushed. Placing a hand on his shoulder Liliana silently assured Charles that Cyril was only joking then sat down.

"What can I get for you?" asked the barmaid, an older woman with dark curly hair. Running around wiping down tables was a younger girl who looked a lot like her.

"A glass of sherry please." Liliana spoke and the woman nodded then turned to Charles.

"F-firewhisky?" He sputtered and she hesitated for a long moment, only moving when Cyril spoke loudly beneath her.

"Firewhisky! Good choice my boy! Sit!" he exclaimed, and Charles did as told as the woman nodded her head and called out to the girl wiping down the tables.

"Rosmerta!" she exclaimed and the girl rushed to her as the two made their way to the bar. Crossing her legs under the table Liliana shifted as Cyril's hand slid onto her thigh, squeezing lightly. Jerking from him quickly Liliana glanced at him sideways but her stepfather ignored the look, giving her leg a light tap then letting his elbows rest on the table.

"Well if he drinks firewhisky he can't be too bad. What's your name lad?"

"C-Charles. Charles DeMarque."

"DeMarque? Yeah I know that name. Some relation to Gilles DeMarque I assume?"

"Yes sir he's my uncle."

"Your uncle and a fine poker player I might add. Just about sweeps me clean every time. It's that ruddy scarred face of his. He sits there stony like a fucking bulldog you'd think the man didn't have a single thought going through his head…" he waved his hand and Charles laughed appreciatively, though Liliana knew no one ever truly found her stepfather's vulgar antics funny.

"He does have quite a way about him." Charles nodded then turned to face Liliana when Cyril looked away. He gave her a smile that she supposed would have been reassuring, though she knew his reaction would be quite different if he knew what exactly was about to happen.

"God damn it!" the barmaid screamed as the sound of breaking glass echoed through the bar. Liliana watched as the young girl was shooed away with several violent swats to the back as the woman quickly began to fill more glasses.

"Everything all right over there?" Cyril boomed loudly and several of the other patrons nodded in agreement.

The barmaid froze then seemed to compose herself, shuffling towards them with their drinks.

"It's my damn granddaughter Rosmerta. Not a useful bone in her body that girl. I tell you if she wasn't a witch…" the woman trailed off.

"Careful there. Girl could end up running the place." Cyril chuckled as he grabbed his glass with fat stubby fingers, downing it quickly.

"That'd be the day. I'll get you another as soon as I can." The barmaid said and Cyril nodded, fishing a galleon out of his pocket and flicking it at her. She caught it with a small cry, staring down at the large gold piece then began to breath heavily, giving Cyril a small bow and departing.

For the next hour they downed drinks, Charles showing his inexperience with hard liquor quickly as his face turned red and he stumbled over his words. Chuckling under his breath, Liliana knew his low rumbles were not out of appreciative humor, but subtle arrogance.

These are the boys you lay around with? She could hear him thinking smugly. Every so often he put an arm around or slid a hand up her thigh, causing her to flinch as she sat between the two men she least wanted to be with.

"Well, I ought to be getting to my friends now. I'll see you later for dinner?" he glanced at Liliana, leaning in for a sloppy kiss. She could feel Cyril's eyes on her as their lips met and swallowed, turning to her stepfather.

"Dinner eh? Hm…well I usually take her out but I'll have you back for you tonight son." He stood, extending his hand and Charles shook it enthusiastically. Grabbing her drink, Liliana downed it quickly then glanced around for the barmaid, lamenting her tolerance to alcohol.

When the barmaid was busy Cyril stood up and straightened his robes, then gave Liliana a small nudge in the direction towards the stairs in the corner.

Expertly creeping without drawing any attention to themselves Cyril guided Liliana up the steps to the first floor of the inn, then up the next, finally settling on a room in the corner. Shutting the door behind him Liliana glanced at the somewhat-familiar walls and repressed a hiccup as her stomach churned.

"I'd hate to see what the boy's like in bed. Probably goes before he can get it in you completely." He chuckled nonchalantly as he closed the curtains with a flick of his wand. Walking over to the bed he unzipped his pants then laid down, patting the bed next to him cheerfully.

Rooted in her spot Liliana stared at his hand then turned her head, silently trying to ready herself.

"Oh for the love of god here." He grumbled then summoned a bottle of firewhisky. Before he could open it, Liliana pulled it to her silently with her hand then unstopped it. Taking the glass in her hands she quickly downed the fiery liquid, taking fighting gulps as her face burned.

Sputtering as she chugged painfully she wiped her lips as her eyes watered and her throat burned. Upon taking one step her brain seemed to distort in waves and she walked to the bed, kicking her shoes off as she let drunkenness claim her.

"Alright, step aside please I need to get through!" Tom exclaimed, brushing past his peers as he made his way through the group outside the girl's bathroom.

Screams tore from within the bathroom and Tom pushed past.

"I'm a Prefect let me through!" he exclaimed, rushing into the bathroom with his hand at the ready. As he rounded the stalls he found a mess of dark hair crouched over a figure which sat kicking and jerking on the ground.

As he stepped closer he noticed the girl's eyes bulged from her head, face almost purple as she gasped for air through a mouth and nostrils which had simply closed shut. The figure next to her looked up and Tom's jaw dropped as he found himself looking into the large eyes of Liliana.

"Miss Rancic I need you to tell me exactly what has happened here tonight."

Liliana could feel the eyes that bore into her. The eyes of Headmaster Dippet, as well as his insipid follower Professor Dumbledore and Professor Slughorn. Behind her, Tom Riddle and Moira Duvein who shook in her seat.

"I…"

Liliana clutched the toilet bowl as she heaved violently, tears pouring down her face. Against the hard tile her thighs shook and she retched, nothing left in her stomach to vomit.

"Who is that? Do you think she's okay?" a voice said before Liliana could reach back the door flew open and two Seventh-Years stared down at her.

"It's Liliana Rancic." One said her voice rising into a girlish shriek and the other laughed wickedly as Liliana glanced back, vomit trailing from the corner of her mouth.

"Oh gosh you're knocked up aren't you?! All the rumors about you being a filthy slut were true I knew it!" Moira smirked, cocking a hip to the side and Liliana knew she had asked Charles on a date before, only to be turned down quite (inadvertently) publicly.

"Go away." Liliana hissed and Moira's friend laughed, revealing two buck teeth.

"I don't even want Charles now that you've infected him with your filth. I bet you've got all those diseases." Moira snarled, shaking her red hair in her face.

"I was in the bathroom when Moira and her friend Grace came in..." she began calmly, blinking slowly as she stared Professor Dippet in the eye. All around her, the portraits leaned in to listen closely and Liliana heart pounded in her ears. This was serious. If she did not lie, she was facing not only expulsion, but trouble with the Ministry.

Liliana reached into her pocket for her wand, hand shaking as the two girls stood over her.

"Why don't you put your head in the toilet? That's where it belongs." Moira whipped out her wand and Liliana eyed the bowl, filled with chunky emesis which floated dangerously close.

This time, Moira's friend didn't laugh. Instead she glanced up at her friend with surprise as Moria stepped closer.

Her high cheekbones seemed exaggerated by the dimness of the stall. Pursing her thin lips she shook the thick curls around her head.

"Put your head in the toilet. You don't know everyone knows you're a Half-Blood. And a mulatto. You're unwanted wherever you go. You slept your way into Slytherin and mess with professors to get high marks. I'd love to be the one to teach you a lesson…"

"…I was in the stall and they both cornered me about my blood status. I tried to leave but they blocked me in and demanded I put my head in the toilet…"

Liliana immediately felt hot searing anger rush through her. Cyril, her own stepfather had just violated her for two hours and now she returned to this? Who were they to question her blood?"

"I said, put your head in the toilet!" Moira shrieked, stepping forward and grabbing Liliana by the back of her head. As she clutched down, Liliana wracked her brain for spells from books and words flew through her head as she thought about what she wished to happen.

The words came out of her mouth strangled, as she worked out the words and let her wand move on its own accord, and right before her very eyes Moira's mouth began to melt into her face, closing slowly.

Immediately she began to scream and backed out of the bathroom as her friend Grace shrieked at the top of her lungs. Pushing Moira aside she sprinted and threw open the bathroom door before Liliana could stop her.

As she bent down to examine her work she watched with a mixture of fascination and horror as Moira's nostrils sealed as well, leaving her writhing on the floor. Behind her, footsteps swelled and she turned her head as a male voice entered the bathroom.

And immediately, she found herself looking into the eyes of Tom Riddle.

"…I said no and she grabbed me by my head and tried to force me. I just wanted to cast a Shield-Charm, Protego but something went wrong. I've-I've never cast it before…" she trailed off, filling her voice with false emotion as she imagined telling the story to herself.

"Miss Rancic is one of the school's top students and has showed herself exemplary at even the most advanced skills Armando. Are we supposed to believe a mispronounced Shield Charm was the cause of this? This is the result of dangerous Dark Magic that should not be ignored!" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, his voice truly frightening.

His electric blue eyes looked as though they had seen right through her carefully-thought out lie, and she feared she may have lost Headmaster Dippet's disbelief with Dumbledore by his side. Whispering in his ear, undoing each and every word she said. As Liliana glared at him she realized she hated the man so much that a surge of hot air flew past her.

"Dumbledore you hardly expect me to believe Liliana would do this on purpose. Every professor within this school cannot find a negative thing to say about the girl. Perhaps it really was an unfortunate accident and while Miss Rancic's mistake could have been costly, she was forced to defend herself."

"Armando you are blinded by your own affection. You all are. What happened here was no accident and must be dealt with for the best interest of all parties involved."

"Why not ask Moira herself? She hasn't been able to defend herself yet." Tom spoke up and Liliana closed her eyes for a moment, all thought ceasing in her head as she heard the next words.

"Everything she said was true…I attacked her….I initiated it…"

Moira spoke calmly, and Liliana tried to hide her own surprise. Looking up she watched as Dumbledore stared at the girl and Slughorn placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"I think in this instance it is only fair 50 points be taken from Ravenclaw. After all do we not stress the equality of all blood status at Hogwarts? For Miss Rancic to be singled out like this is…it's unjust Headmaster!" he piped up as though sensing that Dumbledore was losing the argument.

"I believe Miss Duvein's scare is enough punishment Horace. Escort Liliana back to the dungeons and see that she eats a proper meal before bed. I am truly sorry for all this Liliana. And you too Moira."

"Thank you Professor Dippet." Liliana bowed her head and stood up. Turning slightly she glanced down then crouched before Moira.

"I'm really sorry Moira I didn't mean it." She whispered, and Moira looked up with a blank, unfocused stare and nodded evenly.

"That's alright." She breathed and Liliana nodded, feeling Dumbledore's eyes on her as she walked towards the door.

"Mr. Riddle, please stay here for a moment…" Dippet called and Liliana glanced back at him as she left his office with Professor Slughorn.

The minute they had left the tower he shook his head with a sigh.

"I was afraid for you there Liliana. Such an argument from Dumbledore I've never seen him so angry. But I'm sure he has pure intentions they're just very misguided. I'm sure in the end we would have gotten it sorted out. How could he think you of all people could do something so awful?"

"It's alright Professor Slughorn. I must say thank you for you for your support however."

"Of course dear. Would you like to get on by yourself then? Straight to the dormitories like the Headmaster said. I'll have the elves send up some food."

"Thank you Professor Slughorn. I don't know that I can even eat tonight. Goodnight." She said then stood on her toes to give the man a kiss on the cheek.

Immediately she felt him spring up and patted him tenderly then made off towards the dungeons, thinking about the spell as she walked.

Repeating the curse in her head she made a note to write it down as her heart raced with excitement. She had created a spell! In less that several seconds time at that. Never before had she felt such a strong bond with her magic.

Footsteps behind her quickened and she turned her head as Tom Riddle approached. Catching up to her he glanced around assuring they were alone as they made their way into the common room which was hauntingly empty.

"You're welcome." He breathed quietly as he walked to the fireplace and sat down in a high-backed armchair beside it.

"How? Why?" she asked curiously, turning towards him.

"What was the curse you used?" he ignored her, cocking his head to the side and Liliana sat down on the edge of his chair, crossing her legs.

"It was something that just…came to me. I thought about what I wanted to do to her and I just did it. My wand seemed to find the movement all on its own."

"What kind of wand do you have?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing special. Oak with a dragon heartstring. It wasn't the wand it was…me." She shrugged, glancing down at him as he sat, thinking. After a moment Liliana leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead as he shied away from her with a grimace.

"I'm sorry I was just…" she trailed off and he glanced up at her before standing. Turning slightly, Tom placed his hand around Liliana's neck, holding her head up and looking down into her eyes.

"Don't ever do that again." He whispered, then leaned down slowly and gently, pressed his lips to hers. As he did so she felt a hard smile break through her face and tried to hide it, turning her head slightly before she felt something hard probe her in the neck.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she glanced down at his wand. Curiously, he moved his wand gently across her skin with a blank expression.

"DeMarque did this?" he asked, and she let her fingers trail over the spot, suddenly feeling Cyril's wet tongue and teeth on the spot.

"No…" she trailed off turning away once more. Beside her Tom let out the quietest of chuckles, and she knew that he understood.

"Well then. In case you haven't noticed you are now in my debt. I did you a great favor back there. Had you been found out..." he suddenly stood up, staring down at the fire and Liliana looked up at him curiously.

The sound of footsteps caused her to stand up and she and Tom both watched as a first-year walked into the common room, glancing at the two of them before rushing back up the stairs with a tiny squeal. Pigtails flying behind her she disappeared once more and Liliana rolled her eyes, sitting back down.

She attempted to hide her disappointment at the words and knew it showed on her face when a small smirk spread across his own. Was she truly foolish enough to think that he would actually help her out of the kindness of his heart?

"I knew I shouldn't have thought you above blackmail. It's a foul-"

"Careful Rancic…" he tsked quietly then began to twirl his wand between his long fingers before. "As I was saying, there's something I want you to do for me. How many other spells have you created?"

Caught off guard, Liliana hesitated as she thought about her magical history, from her first discovery of magic up until that moment.

"Well…only a few times I suppose. When I've been bored or curious. Usually it takes a bit of thought but earlier it just came to me really." Glancing up, she forced herself to look back into Tom's eyes and he stared at her much like Dumbledore.

His eyes penetrated each and every thought she had ever had. It was an invasive sensation that caused her to back away slightly, pressing herself against the wall as she fought for breath, feeling violated.

"Well I'd like you to create a spell for me. Something quite simple really, nevertheless unique. Something…that I will be able to put my name on. Do you think you can do that Liliana?"

The use of her first name seemed to awaken something within her and she breathed, glancing down at her feet.

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

This question hung in the air and it seemed as though no one dared say the obvious. Tom Riddle needed her help, though was most unwilling to admit it under any circumstance. Even now as he hung his own force over her, threatening to undo her by simply letting words slip between those perfect lips.

"Rancic I am giving you one choice. Do as I ask, and the reward shall be great. Refuse and…well, I can do much worse before I come clean and you're sent to St. Mungoes or even Azkaban."

"If you come clean you will have to admit that you lied. You'll go down with me." Liliana dared, finding her voice despite the fear which threatened to spill forth.

"You and I both know that I am far more adept at charming than you will ever be. There is a chance I will be reprimanded of course, but nothing more. Not even a loss of my Prefect status I assure you. Simply do as I say and you've nothing to fear, everything to gain. Don't think I don't see what you aim for. Brilliant student, beautiful, seductive…what is it you want Liliana?"

"I just want…" she began, unable to finish. She wanted to be, as simple as that. But that answer was unsatisfactory for all involved and it was the first time that she had been forced to think about the answer and what exactly it meant.

She also knew the extraordinary amount of power it must have taken for Riddle to compliment her. It never ceased to amaze her how he always knew just the right thing to say, how to say it, and when to say it. He was the true master of manipulation in a way that Liliana would never understand.

Of course she could only do so much to pull a man within her grasp, but there were bound to be those who resisted her charms. But Tom Riddle had found a foolproof way, far past the realms of seduction and sensuality. He was the master of quick wit and sharp tongue, and it was that which Liliana prized most about him even though her mixed hatred and adoration.

"What's the spell?" she finally asked, barely above a whisper and he continued quietly, showing no joy at her decision like any other person would.

"A mark. My mark. It's a mark that will bear the symbol of who I am to become. I want you to design it and create a spell to cast it. I trust you'll be able to do it in a timely manner."

"And what if I can't? What if I can't figure it out?" Liliana voiced, and this time Tom spun around and leaned close, cupping her jaw with one of his impressive hands.

"Then it'll be your last failure." He responded.