Tormented

Hurrying down the hallway, I couldn’t help but feel the same disdain I always had for this part of the castle. The decor was so extravagant, it almost seemed like an insult to my sensibilities. The walls and ceiling were lined with rich red velvet, and thick rugs stretched out beneath my feet, making me feel as though I was walking upon wasted galleons. On the left, floor-to-ceiling windows were spaced between suits of armor. On the right, wall sconces illuminated life-sized portraits, their painted eyes glaring down at me with every step. Occasionally, a door broke up the monotony, but not enough to make me feel anything but watched as I neared my father’s study.

I reached the end of the hall far too quickly.

My father looked up from his desk with a with a distinctly disapproving sneer as I entered.

“You’re late,” he said sharply.

There had been no specific time mentioned when he summoned me only moments before. We both knew my chambers were on the far side of the castle, and it hadn’t taken me long to get here.

“I apologize, Father. I was caught up in preparing for this evening’s festivities,” I replied, bowing my head slightly.

“That took precedence over my summons?” His voice dripped with derision, his eyes narrowing as he leaned back in his chair. Before I could respond, he continued, his tone dismissive yet commanding. “I have an assignment for you.”

“I live to serve,” I uttered, my voice flat and rehearsed.

“Here are the details. I expect detailed overviews of your progress fortnightly.” He handed me a thick packet without looking up. “You shall begin this evening.” With that, he turned back to the papers scattered across his desk, signaling the end of our conversation.

I knew better than to ask questions. Instead, I left his study as quickly as I could, eager to escape the suffocating air of his presence.

Back in my chambers, I collapsed onto the stool in front of my desk. I had barely twenty minutes before I was expected downstairs for the ball my father was hosting that evening, and I needed to absorb every detail in the packet before then.

Taking a deep breath, I started skimming through the pages, my eyes moving swiftly over the text. I only paused a few times, my mind already running ahead to the evening’s responsibilities. Fifteen minutes later, I stood up to inspect myself in the mirror, double checking that my makeup and the chignon I had thrown my hair in to were acceptable before I left for the ballroom. I gave myself one last, critical glance before heading downstairs.

As I traversed closer to the gathering the sounds of music and lively discussion waved over me. One of the only perks of being the daughter of Gellert Grindelwald was the expectation of entering all social functions close to last. The ball had officially commenced close to an hour ago, but I was not required to be present until just before my father entered.

Of course almost no one knew I was his daughter. I was acknowledged only as a close higher up associate with a very useful range of skills. I attended every function wearing a mask that covered the upper half of my face, and was imbued with runes that encouraged forgetfulness when one looked upon me. Today the mask was black, as it was most often, in an effort not to clash with my burgundy ballgown.

The dress itself was stunning. The sleeves cascaded off my shoulders, meeting the built-in corset that cinched my waist. The skirt flared out dramatically, its shimmering fabric catching the light with every step I took. The slit on my right leg, which cut up to my mid-thigh, was not just for allure; it served a more practical purpose. Every dress I wore was commissioned to conceal, hidden beneath the fabric, at least one dagger and my second wand—tonight’s concealed on my upper thigh. My combat tutor insisted on it, and who was I to argue with him.

Upon entering the ballroom many of the people mingling around the room paused to stare at me. This happened often at these meetings, not only because of the mask I wore in a room full of people with uncovered faces; but because my father had chosen my mother purely for her use in my creation. I was more useful if I was attractive.

I spent the next few hours discussing the deplorable state of the french ministry, the unerring stupidity of the average witch and wizard, and the amazing strength with which Grindelwald fought the war. It was understandable that I was prepared to leave by one in the morning. Unfortunately, I had yet to participate in the most important dance of my evening.

As a lady It was simply forbidden to request a dance with any of the gentlemen present. Thankfully a few sly glances and one slow trace around the rim of the champagne glass I was holding and Caspian Lestrange was slinking over to ask for my hand.

Caspian was certainly not the worst person I had been required to dance with for an assignment. He was attractive, charming, and kept his hand firmly between my shoulder blades for the entirety of the dance. Unfortunately, his breath stank of the fifth fire whiskey he had just downed. It was very fortunate that I had been in dance lessons since I was six or we would have become a hazard to the other guests.

“You look remarkable tonight Azriel” Lestrange said into my ear. Azriel was the name I used when wearing my mask, my father had chosen both this name and my true name to reflect my connection with him.

“You look rather dashing yourself,” I breathed, glancing up at him beneath my eyelashes.

“I don’t think we’ve had a chance to dance before, my lady.”

“You just graduated, didn’t you? From Hogwarts?”

“I did, proud 1944 Slytherin graduate!” He looked down at me, clearly hoping to impress.

Luckily for him, I was well-versed in the Hogwarts house system, and it was exactly what I had been hoping to discuss.

“Oh! How impressive! Did you enjoy your time there? I must confess, I’ve always been curious about Hogwarts!”

“It was the greatest experience I have had in my short life. The people there truly are like no other.”

“Would you be willing to discuss this with me in quieter setting? Tomorrow perhaps?” He appeared stunned by my forewardness for a second before gaining a cocky smirk.

“I would love nothing more my Lady.” He winked at me. “How does tomorrow at eleven in the library sound?” He asked.

“That works perfectly” I gazed up into his eyes pausing for a moment.

This luckily coincided with the end of the song and I was able to let go and make my excuses. As soon as I had exited the ballroom the dazed and slightly drunken demeanor I had adopted slipped away. I quickly made my way to my chambers where I divested myself of my highly uncomfortable dress and settled in to investigate the details of my assignment in more depth.

I did not get to bed until a little before five in the morning. This did not, unfortunately, prevent me from having to meet with Lestrange only a few hours later. It did however, allow me to process just exactly why my father was sending me to Hogwarts for my final year in schooling, where I would be under the direct tutelage of his greatest enemy. I was to investigate the children there, and hopefully prepare not only them but their families to join our forces when we eventually expanded our occupation to England. I was to vet both dark and neutral leaning families and comprise a list of most useful families for political sway in the english ministry.

It was very important that I held sway in Hogwarts. This meant that it was very important that I understood the interior workings of Hogwarts politics. I knew that Slytherin played a different game from the rest of the houses, and that it was the house I needed to be in as it held a great majority of the dark leaning students. Thus the information I was about to coerce out of Caspian was going to be invaluable.