A/N: I've already written so much of the story that I figured I would start posting it now. If you haven't already, there is a trailer for it; the link can be found in my profile. Just a warning, this will contain a lot of dark content and won't be the usual; Voldemort's daughter befriends the golden trio and falls in love with Harry Potter story. Actually, it will be quite the opposite. So if you hate Death Eaters and Voldemort, I suggest you don't bother reading this.

DISCLAIMER: I am not J.. Nothing concerning the Harry Potter universe belongs to me.

Chapter One: A Strange Dream

As she stood with her wand stretched out firmly in front of her, the illuminated tip revealed nothing but shelves upon shelves of varying glass orbs for as far as the eye could see. Though she wasn't able to recall how she arrived there, the place could not have felt more real as she wandered along the vast hallways making up the seemingly endless room. For a moment she stopped, letting the dark room silence as her echoing footsteps ceased to resonate throughout the hall; she turned to face one of the lengthy shelves, reaching forward to pull one of the cloudy spheres off of the table before examining it thoroughly while turning it over in her hand. After setting it back in its place, she noticed a small, withered and yellowing bit of parchment attached to its platform reading, "Harry Potter."

She let go of the tag almost as quickly as she read it, letting it fall back to its place on the table next to the ball with which it belonged. Why she had been drawn to that particular prophesy was unknown to her, and the sick feeling that was beginning to plague her stomach as she stood idly in that room told her that she needed to get out of their fast. Behind her, she felt a chilling and unnatural wind brush past her figure, prompting her to turn her head to the right after it. Though she was startled, it was nothing in comparison to the stomach-lurching fear she felt the second she heard the soft hissing of unintelligible words coming from a bright blue, cloudy orb only a few rows away from where she stood.

"Rayna…" The almost inaudible voice whispered softly, drawing her over toward it despite the terror that now consumed her.

With forced bravery she let her legs carry her to the shining ball; her long fingers gripped the bit of attached parchment. "Rayna Riddle," it read plainly. She understood then; the room she was trapped in was the famous "Hall of Prophesy," rumored to be located deep within a chamber of the Department of Mysteries. Though she struggled to understand why or how she had gotten there, things were beginning to make a little more sense to her. She set the tag down before picking up the brightly glowing sphere; though she was expecting to hear anything from a horoscope update to who she was destined to marry, she was not expecting for the ball to remain completely impassive. She stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to think as nothing revealed itself in the cloudy-blue mist. Thinking it was defective, or that it had been addressed to her by mistake, she shook it frantically, trying but not succeeding to make it work.

"Rayna…" The voice continued, though it was more distinct and clear; the tone so cold and uncaring that the sound of it alone was enough to make the hair on her arms stand on end.

She dropped the prophesy before she was able to register what was going on, causing it to fall and break into hundreds of glass shards littering the floor. The loud gasp leaving her lips prompted a light chuckle to echo throughout the hall as though it were reverberating from the very depths of her mind. She recognized it at once as belonging to the same voice that had been whispering her name, drawing her to the blank prophesy that was now scattered aimlessly about the ground.

"Rayna, don't fear me." She turned around abruptly, trying desperately to pinpoint where the mysterious voice was coming from, "I know what you want, and I can help you."

"Who are you?" She asked softly, stopping in her tracks when she realized the owner of the voice was nowhere in sight.

For one longing moment there was no answer, only dead silence as she clutched one trembling hand in the other, a pitiful attempt at trying to maintain her ever dwindling composure. She felt her stomach drop and her breath catch in her throat as a strong wind came up from behind her, accompanied by a foggy black mist that seemed to grow thicker and thicker as it loomed into view. The mist started to take the form of a man, but the clearer the figure became, the less human it looked. Pale and snake-like, with waxy features and a nearly flattened nose, she now knew who she was talking to.

From his place at her side, he turned to stand in front of her, his lavish black robes billowing behind him with every step. For the first time since she was an infant she was staring into the face of Lord Voldemort, the man responsible for her less than ideal standing within the wizarding world. Though for nearly every witch and wizard alive this would have instilled the utmost fear and apprehension, she felt strangely comforted by his presence. From as long as she could remember, she had been guilty by association; the product of another man's experiences. Even in a thirteen-year absence, the wizarding world didn't dare to speak his name; portrayed to resemble a god, he was cruel, manipulative and cold; the epitome of fear itself. Her world was equally as dark and cruel, dealing her what most would consider the worst of circumstances. None the less, the company of that man wasn't nearly as terrifying to her as the company of all the people who despised her based on her heritage, watched over her like a hawk, and secluded her from the rest of the world.

"They have taught you to hate me Rayna," Voldemort spoke softly, moving in closer toward her with every step, "but you will soon realize they are only manipulating you."

With that, the man she once knew only as a ghost of her past became very real to her. As the scene began to fade away he stretched one of his long, pale fingers out to caress her cheek; though it was still far from loving, it was more than any of her previous guardians had bothered to show her up until this point.

…

"Rayna?"

Sweating and visibly disturbed, Rayna was thrown back into reality as she woke from her dream. Though she could hardly make sense of her surroundings, who she was with, and what just happened, she tried her hardest to calm herself when she heard her friends calling her name. She slowly began to make sense of things, separating dreams from reality as she focused her eyes and let herself adjust to the unnaturally unfamiliar setting. She pulled herself up from where she was leaning comfortably against the window and steadied her breathing before finally gathering the strength to address her friends; the dream seemed to have taken all of her energy and attention, making it that much more difficult to adjust. Once she caught her breath she removed her gaze from the flashing horizon just beyond the compartment window to look over at her three friends.

"Sorry," Rayna said breathlessly, though it didn't turn out quite as convincing as she had hoped, "bad dream."

"Yeah I'll say," Ron replied casually, though it came out sounding slightly insensitive, prompting Hermione to hit him in the side.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with worry, "We tried to wake you, but you wouldn't move."

"Yeah," Rayna replied, gradually regaining a more composed tone, "I'm fine –really."

Though she was progressively tuning back to her former self, the feeling of absolute dread and a sheer longing for acceptance lingered in the very pit of her stomach. As her three friends stared back at her, she couldn't help but take her father's words into consideration; maybe everything wasn't as clear as it had once seemed, with the unpredictable and inconsistent state of the wizarding world, it was nearly impossible to know who to trust and who not to.

"Is something wrong?" Rayna asked curiously, trying but failing to justify why the three of them continued to stare at her in disbelief.

"You were speaking parseltongue Rayna," Harry said suddenly, a hint of accusation in his voice.

"Harry honestly," Hermione said defensively, turning toward him as she shot him a harsh look she didn't mean for Rayna to see, "she was dreaming, she couldn't have known. She probably just remembered something you've said."

"She's the daughter of you-know-who," Ron said quietly, "of course she's a parseltongue."

Rayna shot Ron a glare before turning back to Hermione, who was still trying to sort through all of the different possibilities and scenarios that could have been the reason for her sudden change of tongue. Rayna felt her stomach knot, knowing that none of this explaining and mistrust would be happening if she would have just told them the truth to begin with. Contrary to popular belief, Rayna had always denied possessing the ability to speak to snakes in hopes that it would help others to distinguish her from her father. Hiding it, even from her closest friends, had always been in her best interest; admitting it would bring only more ridicule from the wizarding world, which already unfairly resented her.

"No, Hermione," Rayna began uneasily, resentfully deciding to face the truth rather than continue to hide behind a lie, "I am a parseltongue."

"But why didn't you tell us?" Hermione asked curiously, though she looked more hurt than anything else.

"Think about it," Rayna replied, "would you want anyone to know?"

"Might've let your best friends know." Ron shot coarsely, though Rayna tried to ignore it and stop the tears threatening to rim her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Rayna said softly, "when you asked me if I could speak to snakes back in our second year, I lied because I didn't want to give anyone more reason to believe it was me who opened the Chamber of Secrets. I thought about telling you after that, but I didn't know how to."

"In the dream," Harry asked suddenly, slightly easing the thick tension engulfing the compartment, "who were you talking to?"

"I don't remember," Rayna answered uneasily before adding, "Why do you ask?"

"You asked who they were," Harry replied, his eyes boring into her as though he didn't quite buy it.

Though she hated lying to the few people she could trust, Rayna loathed the constant interrogation and accusation that followed along suit with everything pertaining to her father. From a young age she taught herself that when dealing with her inheritance, it was best to be as vague and evasive as possible.

"I hardly remember the dream," Rayna continued quietly, "I don't know why I reacted so badly."

Harry nodded, though the three of them still looked a bit worried and on edge. Sure, Rayna did remember the dream as clear as day, but she couldn't risk them getting involved. With her father, it felt like every time the subject was brought up she was interrogated by everyone from her friends to Albus Dumbledore himself. Sometimes the differences between her and the three Gryffindors were just too much to bear; where she was a Slytherin, they were Gryffindors, where they were the hope of the light, she was a child of evil; the list could go on infinitely.

"Rayna are you sure you're alright," Hermione added cautiously, "with you-know-who at large again, there's no telling who he will go after. Maybe like Harry, there's a connection…"

"No," Rayna spat coldly, though she didn't mean to sound so icily harsh, "There is no connection between my father and I."

Hermione recoiled back in her seat, without a doubt shocked with her sudden vindictive demeanor. Rayna hated the way things would come out sometimes; she hated the way it immediately reminded people of her father. Unable to escape her father's huge, dark shadow, Rayna tried her hardest to beat out every attribute that remotely resembled her father but she couldn't do it without hiding behind lies and presenting a sort of false persona to everyone she knew and loved.

…

The remainder of the ride passed in silence; Rayna was brought back to reality as the train jolted to a not so subtle stop, the screeching of the brakes interrupting her train of thought. Though she shrugged the dream off as nothing at all, the thick tension engulfing their compartment was enough to convince the four of them otherwise; she hadn't stopped thinking about it the entire ride to Hogwarts. She closed her book, though she hadn't actually retained a single sentence the entire hour and a half she had been reading it, and filed out of the compartment behind her three friends. They stepped onto the platform under the cover of night and began to walk over to Hagrid, who was holding a wide lantern to light the way.

"I'm surprised the ministry's still letting you walk around free Potter, you better enjoy it while you can," a pale, blond boy named Draco said haughtily as he walked by, "I expect there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it."

Harry lunged toward him in a fit of anger only to be restrained by Ron at the last minute. Rayna and Hermione exchanged looks of worry before walking up to them in an attempt to console Harry. Though Rayna was happy she was no longer the object of the wizarding world's ridicule, she found it unfair that Harry had to fall into dishonor for that to happen.

"What'd I tell you," Draco drawled as he passed further away with his friends, "complete nutter."

"Just stay away from me!" Harry shouted angrily, making one more attempt, in vain, to break free from Ron's grip.

"It's only Malfoy," Ron said quietly, loosening his grip as Harry calmed down, "what do you expect?"

Draco stopped for a moment, turning around on his heel before adopting a sly grin and looking over at Rayna, who shot him a glare that could have put some of the most vindictive and cruel death eaters to shame. Though he couldn't find it in him to maintain eye contact with her, he managed to uphold his look of unwavering confidence and disdain as addressed her.

"Oh, and Rayna, if what Potter says is true, and I assume you believe him" Draco added arrogantly, "then I would consider switching sides while you have the chance. I'm sure father dearest wouldn't appreciate you making friends with the enemy."

Draco turned around and went back to his friends, chatting loudly as he gloated about anything and everything he could think of. Rayna couldn't help herself, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand, wasting no time in positioning it directly at Malfoy. She began to speak, "Furnuncu-," but Hermione was quick to grab her wrist, stopping her mid-sentence before she could finish casting the curse.

"Rayna don't!" Hermione said firmly, "You'll be expelled!"

"He's not worth it Ray," Ron added, though she wasn't entirely convinced.

She lowered her wand and let Malfoy walk off, though Hermione kept her restrained for a few more moments before actually letting her go. Once the four of them composed themselves, they made their way to the carriages that would take them to the castle. As they reached the path to the castle, one of the ornate carriages was just departing, leaving them having to wait a moment before they were to catch the next one. There Neville stood, carrying a large, misshapen plant in his arms as he awaited the next carriage as well.

"Hey guys," Neville said, turning toward them eagerly.

"Hey Neville," Hermione replied casually, walking up to the path to stand beside him.

"What is it," Harry said as the next carriage arrived behind them, walking toward the front of it, though being sure to keep a marginal distance.

"What's what?" Ron asked curiously.

"That," Harry continued, "pulling the carriage."

"Nothing's pulling the carriage Harry," Hermione replied awkwardly, "it's pulling itself like always."

"Thestrals," Rayna said suddenly, finally remembering some of what she was reading on the train, "I was just reading about them."

"Who are you, Hermione?" Ron asked sarcastically, though he received a rough punch in the shoulder when Hermione heard him.

"They can only be seen by those who have seen someone die," Rayna added after shooting Ron a smirk.

"Can you see them?" Harry asked, turning to face her.

"No," Rayna replied simply.

The golden trio all exchanged glances, though Rayna knew they were all thinking the same thing: they either didn't believe her, or they were too shocked to think about not believing her. She was the first to file into the carriage, sitting across from a girl who had already boarded with long, pale blond hair and a peculiar paper held upside down in her hands that Rayna didn't recognize. Harry slid in next to her, followed by the others until the thestrals began to walk down the wide dirt path leading to the castle. Rayna tried to occupy herself by looking off into the distance or focusing her vision on her shoes, but she couldn't manage to get over the intense stare Luna seemed to be giving her.

"Excuse me," Rayna said suddenly, though Luna didn't seem to acknowledge her.

With that the other occupants looked her way, though Luna seemed to be stuck in the same dreamy gaze as when they first boarded. Rayna looked over at Hermione, who shrugged her shoulders before turning to chat with Ron.

"Wrackspurts," Luna replied dazedly.

"And those are?" Rayna replied a bit too rudely.

"Invisible creatures that fly into your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," Luna replied, trailing off absentmindedly before adding, "Your head's full of them."

Rayna didn't reply, not knowing what to say; she looked away, catching Harry's eye as he too gave the same uncertain shrug of his shoulders as Hermione did. The rest of the ride passed in silence, aside from Luna's light humming as she read the newest edition of, "The Quibbler." Soon enough the castle loomed into the distance, prompting them to jump off of the carriages and make their way inside along with all of the other students.

When they entered the great hall, they saw that as usual they were among the last students to arrive; Ron, Harry and Hermione all muttered brief good-byes before scurrying off to the Gryffindor table. Rayna walked over to the other end of the hall slowly, receiving glares from all of her fellow Slytherins that made her feel as though she had the Gryffindor crest stamped right in the middle of her forehead. Despite begging the sorting hat to put her in Gryffindor, or any other house for that matter, she had been placed in Slytherin, away from the only people she could consider friends. Unlike her father, who had all of Slytherin house wrapped around his finger in his day, she was the reject of Slytherin, a traitor worse than a Gryffindor. She sat down at the end of the table, next to a wide-set girl who inched over slightly in her seat as if Rayna was carrying some sort of disease before piling a few items of food on her plate.

"Hey Draco," Pansy Parkinson drawled from across the table, her voice loud enough to practically echo throughout the room, "How long do you think it will take for Riddle to become a death eater?"

"That depends," Draco replied arrogantly, "if her father doesn't kill her for being a traitor, I'd say she'll be off slaughtering mudbloods within a week."

Rayna glared, encasing the fork at her side with a death grip as she attempted to ignore them. From across the room she saw Dumbledore lock his eyes on her, so she tried to relax and make her obvious display of hatred less conspicuous, though she knew he wouldn't buy it. Draco, Pansy, and the rest of Slytherin table began to laugh, the drone of their shrill cackles echoing throughout her mind. She felt herself grow faint, standing up and grabbing a muffin from the table in front of her before rushing out of the great hall.

When she reached the castles corridors she felt her mind grow cloudy and her vision blur until she collapsed to the ground, having to prop herself up on a bench beneath one of the hallways enormous windowsills to regain her balance. She could hear faint hissing in her ears, as though it were coming from inside of her very mind. The strange sense of deja-vu that now consumed her brought her back to the dream she had on the train, making her all the more aware of exactly what would happen next as she lay helpless along the dark and deserted corridor.

"Rayna," her father's voice hissed eerily, "don't hide it Rayna."

"What do you want?" Rayna hissed back quietly, still wary of anyone who might be walking along the castle's corridors.

Rayna waited a moment, though there was no reply; instead, she felt her mind clear and her state of consciousness returning back to what it was. It was as though a huge load had been lifted from her shoulders, relieving her of the Closter phobia she felt as her father invaded her mind. Though she may have passed it off as hallucinations or a figment of her imagination, the voice felt entirely too real to be anything but. Rayna pulled herself up, bracing herself on the wall for another mere moment before walking down to the dungeons in hopes that she could go to bed early and avoid having to deal with any of her fellow Slytherin's for the rest of the evening.

As she approached the portrait guarding the entrance to the Slytherin common room, she realized she hadn't bothered to figure out what the password was before she left the great hall. Cursing under her breath, she walked up to the portrait in hopes that it hadn't been changed since last year, or that the arrogant old man would let her in out of the kindness of his heart. The second the portrait saw her all hope of that vanished; the glare of absolute distaste upon his face made that all too clear.

"Password," It drawled in a tone annoyingly similar to Malfoy's

"Sir," Rayna replied in the most polite voice she could muster, "I forgot to ask what the password is, would you mind just letting me in?"

"Of course not," the portrait spat back haughtily, making it absolutely clear that her hopes were nothing more than wishful thinking.

"Look," Rayna spat back, "I'm extremely tired. You know I'm in Slytherin, just let me in."

"I can't do that," the portrait continued, upturning its nose rudely in the air as he turned away from her.

Rayna sighed and slumped down to the floor with her back against the wall as she waited for someone to wander down to the common room. With half an hour remaining before the feast was officially over, Rayna buried her head in her hands as she wrapped her arms around her legs. Though she felt like screaming, crying or shooting devastating curses at the portrait, she refused to let it get to her, opting to close her eyes and let her thoughts drift somewhere else.

"Riddle?" a voice asked harshly, though she couldn't hear who it was; her arms were stretched over her ears, muffling her hearing.

"What?" Rayna replied irritably, not even bothering to look up at whomever it was that was addressing her.

"What are you doing?" It continued rudely, prompting Rayna to look up from her place on the floor.

"I don't know the password," Rayna replied coldly as she stared up to see a grinning Draco Malfoy.

"Serpent sortia," Draco said confidently as he walked up to the portrait, which gladly allowed him entrance.

Rayna glared as she walked in behind him, less than satisfied that it had been Malfoy who let her inside. She was just about to head up the stairs leading to the girls dormitories when she heard Draco's annoying drone behind her.

"Riddle," he drawled, prompting her to turn around just as she climbed the second step.

"Yes, Malfoy," she replied calmly, though she had to admit she was curious as to why he was bothering to talk to her.

"Sit down," he answered nonchalantly, recoiling back in his seat on the couch as he pointed to the chair next to him, "let's have a conversation."

"Have you lost your mind?" Rayna shot back, turning to head back up the stairs before she was interrupted, once again.

"I have something to give you," Draco said suddenly, his voice growing more annoying by the second.

Rayna turned around and began to walk back down the stairs, though she still wasn't convinced. She glared over at Malfoy as he reached into his robes and took out a neatly folded bit of parchment with an elegant, emerald green seal and silver designs etched in its surface. Rayna stopped for a moment, staring at him in utter confusion as he outstretched his arms and waved it flamboyantly in the air as if urging her to hurry up and take it. Rayna did so, walking forward for the remainder of the distance hastily before snatching it from his hands and stuffing it into her robes and turning around to continue her journey up the stairs.

When she reached her dorm she collapsed on top of her bed, burying her face in her pillow out of both exhaustion and disdain concerning her poor start to her fifth year at Hogwarts. When she heard footsteps she sat up straight, ready to face whatever rude comments and gestures the bitches of Slytherin house were going to throw at her.

"What do you think you're doing Riddle?" Pansy shrieked angrily as she slammed open the door to her dorm, "stay away from my Draco."

"Oh Pansy, no worries, you have that uptight prat all to yourself." Rayna replied lazily, not at all in the mood to deal with her petty arguing, "…and half the school."

"What did you say?" Pansy yelled as she grabbed her wand and pointed it directly at her.

Rayna leaned back against the headboard of her bed, twirling her wand aimlessly between her fingers as she watched Pansy throw a huge fit before her. Rayna smirked up at her, only prompting Pansy to grow even angrier by the minute, upset that she failed to intimidate her. Though she wouldn't usually bother even acknowledging their comments, Rayna felt a strange surge of confidence wash over her, encouraging her to stick up for herself for once.

"When she tries to hex you," She heard a voice hissing into her mind, "curse her back before she has time to speak the spell."

Rayna winced slightly, not having been expecting to hear her father's voice. The confidence she had before was now wavering; she never dueled anyone before, and surely didn't want to start now. As Pansy glared back at her Rayna realized the truth in her father's words, Pansy was ready to hex her any moment and she needed to be prepared. She went over all of the spells and enchantments she had learned in charms class, but she couldn't think of any that would actually get her anywhere in a duel; she was drawing a blank in her state of anxiety. She pondered some of the things she's read, but she had a hard enough time retaining the information while reading it, much less remembering it now. She began to inwardly panic, though she was careful not to show it on the outside, lest it egg Pansy on.

"I promise you Riddle," Pansy spat rudely, inching toward Rayna's bed as she scrunched up her face in contempt, "if you so much as lay a finger on my Draco, I will kill you."

"Interesting you should say that," Rayna replied calmly, the words seeming to flow freely without thought, "As I recall, he's slept with half of Slytherin house, and they're all still here."

"That's a lie!" Pansy screamed back at her, loud enough to be heard all throughout the dungeons.

"Is it?" Rayna replied, unable to control herself as she continued nonchalantly, "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself of that more than you're trying to convince me."

Pansy glared, her features livid with absolute hate as she stared back at Rayna, who remained leaning nonchalantly against her bedpost. Rayna felt her heart race and her mind begin to grow faint, but she couldn't manage to show it on the outside. She was trapped under a mask of confidence as she smirked back at Pansy, only egging her on further until she was at her breaking point.

"Get out Parkinson," Rayna said calmly, motioning toward the door with her wand, "go find Draco before he gets himself trapped between Daphne's legs."

Rayna couldn't believe the words flowing from her lips; it was like she was caught within a dream and the reactions she wanted to exhibit just wouldn't come. She panicked as Pansy grabbed her wand, though she was expecting some outward force to fight back as it had with her words. Pansy raised her wand, positioning it firmly out in front of her before she began to give it a flick. Rayna panicked, nothing was happening; it was as though she had regained complete control of her body and actions. She gasped as Pansy began to speak the curse, unsure of what to do as she prepared for the worst.

"Densauge-" Pansy began to say, her face contorting into a wicked grimace.

"Stupify!" Rayna shouted, flicking her wand out in front of her so fast that it knocked Pansy all the way across the room and into the cold stone wall beside the window.

Rayna gasped, shocked that she managed to produce such a powerful charm by herself. Though she hadn't been able to control her words, she managed to pull through at the last minute when the voice of her father had abandoned her. At the door, several other Slytherin students were piled beside one another, eager to see the fight that was occurring between Pansy and Rayna. It wasn't long before the voice of a prefect, eager to exert a show of authority and prove his worth, was rushing up the stairs and pushing through the crowd of students leading to the room.

"What is going on here?" the prefect asked angrily as he burst into the room.

"Riddle attacked me!" Pansy shrieked as she picked herself up off of the floor, rubbing where a minute amount of blood was drizzling down her forehead.

If it were any other person, the prefect would have bothered to hear both sides, but as usual Rayna was escorted out of the dorm and down the castle corridors to see her head of house without a word. The prefect instructed her to wait a moment while he went down the corridors to find professor Snape, their head of house.

"Detention Riddle," Snape drawled drearily as he walked beside the prefect along the corridors, though shock was clearly etched in his eyes as he stared back at her, "Every night this week after dinner."

Rayna nodded, pleased he didn't take any points from Slytherin house; though she assumed it was because he favored Slytherin too much to do so. Despite being pleased that she would be spending her detentions with the potions master making potions rather than performing other pointless tasks assigned by the other professors, she was still incredibly unhappy that a few hours of her day would have to be shaved off. Aside from her natural talent and inclination when it came to magic in general, learning the theoretical aspects of magic they taught in school came about as easily to her as sight came to a blind man; in addition to her newly accumulated detentions, she would have to spend the majority of her day stressing over essays and schoolwork.

Rayna sulked as she walked back to her dorm beside the prefect, shutting the door behind her a little too loudly when taking into consideration that three other girls were sleeping in the room. She changed out of her robes, sighing angrily as she flopped down onto her bed and buried herself beneath the covers. After a few uncomfortable shifts as she made an effort to adjust herself in the bed a strange, eerie feeling came over her; one that made her feel so uneasy and unnerved that she felt as though she would faint.

"It felt good," the familiar voice of her father hissed as her eyes shot open in shock, "didn't it Rayna?"

She sat up in bed, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling that overcame her. She thought about it for a moment, considering everything that had happened that evening. Though she would never admit it to her friends, to Dumbledore, or to anyone she's ever known, she could admit it to herself and to the man inside her head acting as her father.

"Yes father," Rayna thought calmly, drifting off into a light sleep, "I enjoyed it."

A/N: Don't forget to review and tell me what you think so far! Constructive criticism? Send it my way. (:

However, comments about how Voldemort could never have a daughter and all, don't bother. I know, that is why this is Fanfiction.