Harry Potter To Kill A Dark Lord

**Title: **_To Kill A Dark Lord_

**Summary: **_Starts in Harry's Sixth year, ignores both HBP and DH. _The lives of Harry Potter and Cissy Françoise are changed forever when Voldemort destroys her family and puts her in Snape's care. After she transfers to Hogwarts, things get decidedly more interesting when some unexpected secrets are unveiled. Can Cissy heal broken hearts and breach the peace between house rivalry, all while she does her part in the war against Voldemort?

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own any of the characters or ideas of the Harry potter series - they are the property of J. and associates. I am only writing this story for fun and am not making any profit from it._

**Author's Notes:** _When I came up with this story line, Deathly Hallows hadn't even been released, not had the spoilers for it. As such, this story runs mostly with canon for the first five books, with some subtle differences that will be explained along the way. Chapters are likely to be fairly long, but updates may be sporadic as I'm quite busy at the moment._

**Chapter One – Unfavourable Surprises**

_No. 4 Privet Drive,__  
Surrey,  
England_

Harry glared at the ceiling of his bedroom, his eyes straining in the mid-morning gloom. The orange streetlight filtered through his bedroom curtains, casting an eerie glow on the objects in his room as he determinedly stared at the ceiling. He was wallowing, he knew he was, but he didn't really care.

How could Sirius leave him? Just when things were finally beginning to look up for him! Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming in frustration and grief. Sirius had promised him so much and had still let him down. He shouldn't have died. He shouldn't have even been there that night!

Harry turned over and pummelled his pillow before flinging himself back upon it with unnecessary force. How could he blame Sirius for dying? It was his fault Sirius even went to the Ministry that night. It was Harry's fault for believing what Voldemort had planted in his brain. And Harry hated himself for it.

As he lay there, tears pricking at his vivid green eyes, he knew that this summer would be the hardest of them all to bear, his grief a weighty burden on his shoulders as he struggled to keep his temper in check around his Aunt and her family. He sighed, turning over again, struggling to get comfortable enough to sleep. He wondered vaguely as his mind plagued him with memories of his godfather, if he'd make it through the summer to even go back to Hogwarts for his sixth year.

~{(HP)}~

_Françoise Manor,  
__Bordeaux,  
France_

Cecilia plunged the fencing sword toward her tutor and felt the satisfying bend of the blade as it struck his chest. He staggered backward, thrown off-balance by her jab, just catching himself before he fell off the fencing platform. He nodded to her as she bowed and hopped off toward the benches.

"Very good, Cecilia," he praised in fluent French. Cecilia glared at him.

"Cissy," she corrected in English. He glowered at her.

"My parents would go spare if they heard you speaking French in the house, you know they would." She pulled off her fencing robe and flung it on the bench as she walked off.

"'Till next week, Monsieur Le-Fon," she called behind her as she waved her departure. He simply shook his head in reply.

Cissy stared at herself critically in the mirror, analyzing every angle of her face in the candlelight. After a moment, she seemed satisfied and took the candle out of the bathroom and placed it on her bedside table as she climbed between the sheets of her four-poster. She sighed, lying back as she stared at the canopy overhead. Life was so boring, here in her family's manor. She longed for excitement, for something of interest to happen to her little life.

She turned onto her side, staring into the flickering candle flame. Even school wasn't enough to distract her from the boredom and ease of her pure-blood witch's life. It was just as mundane as the rest of it. She sighed and pulled her long dark curls up into a pony before blowing out the candle and snuggling into the covers.

---

At first, Cissy thought she'd been woken by some wild animal on the Manor grounds, but when she felt a firm hand dragging her out of her bed by her hair, she quickly thought differently.

A tall figure in a dark robe dragged her out of her room, through her house with surprising strength. It had a firm grip on her ponytail, and she could feel the hairs straining at her scalp, some of them tearing and splitting. Her eyes watered with pain and she uttered a protest to her captor who responded by giving her a hard slap across her face. She fell silent, trying desperately to ignore the chafing of the skin on her feet as they trailed helplessly behind her.

Eventually, they reached the entrance hall of the Manor and she was flung unceremoniously to the cold marble floor. The floor was littered with broken glass, no doubt from the grand chandelier above, and her hands stung as she flung them out to brace her fall. She knelt back, not sure which injury to pay most attention to, deciding to ignore them all in favour of looking about her.

There were a great number of figures, all in identical black, hooded robes with pale, silver masks shrouding their faces. They formed a semi circle around her and two other forms that lay on the marble floor with their heads bowed who she figured must be her parents. In front of them, a tall, slender figure, also in a black robe sat in a chair, surveying them with evident displeasure. His sallow, white skin and vivid scarlet eyes easily betrayed his identity, but Cissy didn't think that this was really a problem for him at the moment. Lord Voldemort sat back, his hands steepled in front of him as he looked down his flattened nose at them.

"Well, Françoise," he began, in a cold, clear voice that took Cissy by surprise because of its unusually high pitch for a male voice. She refrained desperately from raising her eyebrows, but turned to look bewildered at the figure of her father who had now flung himself at the Dark Lord's feet.

"My lord, p-please forgive me," he stammered, his head bowed disgracefully. Cissy watched him, ashamed of his behaviour. How dare he bow before such an upstart, pretentious bastard?

Voldemort kicked out, his foot connecting cleanly with Monsieur Françoise's face, the crack of his breaking nose resounding clearly in the silence.

"Do not touch me," Voldemort said coldly. Françoise scrambled backward, bowing and muttering apologies all the while. Cissy felt sick to her stomach watching him bow and plead in such a way. It was degrading and disgusting. In that moment she hated this so-called _Lord_ for ever making her father and mother feel inferior to him. He turned his head and fixed his snake-like eyes on hers, but she did not look away. She glared back defiantly, desperately trying to clear her mind in case he tried to use Legilimency on her. Voldemort stared for a few moments longer before throwing his head back and laughing.

"Françoise! I did not know you had such a brave, defiant daughter! How amusing," he mocked, smirking at Cissy. "Perhaps a little reminder of what happens to those who do not learn their place?"

He flicked his wand and Cissy's body was wracked with excruciating pain. She curled up into a ball on the floor, writhing around in the midst of all the broken glass, shards of it embedding themselves into her pale skin. She clenched her jaw firmly, determined not to scream or cry. She would not give in to this bastard. She was determined.

Voldemort let the curse linger for a full two minutes before removing it. He seemed amused by Cissy's lack of reaction, though tears fell freely and silently down her cheeks. Her father stared at her in a mixture of pain and awe, as he remained grovelling at Voldemort's feet.

Cissy took in a shaking breath, but sat back up on her knees, her gaze determined as she faced her torturer. He smiled humourlessly at her before turning to her father.

"Now, Françoise, I left you in possession of a most valuable artefact, a lamp, from the Wild Country in Ireland that possessed some very unique qualities. Perhaps you recall the item?"

Monsieur Françoise looked terrified, his face ashen, clearly recalling the object in question. Cissy narrowed her eyes as she watched her father, his eyes darting about the room nervously. Voldemort sat back in his chair.

"I see that you do remember the object in question, Françoise. So I ask you, where is it?"

Françoise looked petrified. His wife lay whimpering beside him and Cissy was glaring at her father as the reason behind the attack was made clearer. He wrung his hands, stuttering some mumbled reply and a Death Eater kicked him sharply in the back. He yelped then looked back at Voldemort who waved his wand and said in a clear voice, "_Legilimens."_

After a few moments, Voldemort released the spell and Monsieur Françoise fell to the floor, moaning with terror. Voldemort rose from his seat, advancing on the wreck of a man, his cold, scarlet eyes narrowed in anger.

"I see," he said, stopping just before Françoise's head, bowed so low it touched the floor. "So this is how you treat the trust of the Dark Lord?" He waved his wand again. "_Crucio."_

Cissy watched in horror as her Mother's body was wracked with the same terrible pain, her voice echoing in the halls in a perpetual, terrified scream. Cissy closed her eyes as a wave of nausea rose in her throat, knowing that scream would remain with her for the rest of her life. Her father watched his wife's body convulse uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face.

Voldemort waved his wand, and Madame Françoise's convulsing ended, her whimpers now turned into hysterical, uncontrolled sobs. He looked at one of his Death eaters and nodded, the chosen follower stepping forward swiftly, producing a silver, ornate dagger, it's sharp blade gleaming in the moonlight filtering in through the windows. Cissy caught her breath as the Death Eater grasped hold of her mother's head, pulled out her tongue and sliced it clean off in a swift upwards movement.

Françoise yelled out in horror as his wife fell to the floor, crimson rivulets streaming from her mouth as she writhed in pain, screaming incoherent words as she clutched at her mouth. Voldemort laughed, his high voice joined by a chorus of laughter from his faithful followers. Françoise reached out for his wife, trying desperately to stem the blood flowing from his wife's mouth.

"I shall not be so foolish as to put my trust in you again, Françoise," said Voldemort, settling back down in his chair. The laughter around them died down as he raised his hand, and Françoise sat on the floor, clutching his wife to him, in a desperate attempt to both stem the bloodflow and hide her from sight, as if doing so would keep her safe. Voldemort gave a sick little chuckle.

"Let it be known that Lord Voldemort is merciful," he said loudly to his followers. "I could have chosen any number of horrific tortures, but instead settled for the most basic, the least horrific, and by no means the most painful."

The Death Eaters laughed around him and he smiled, looking down at his victims. "Macnair, if you would be so kind."

The Death Eater Macnair stood forward, a well-sharpened axe suddenly in his hands, his eyes peering out hungrily from behind his mask. He stood by Cissy's parents.

"The woman first, my lord?"

Voldemort nodded.

"Yes. Françoise needs to learn his lesson before he learns peace, I think."

Macnair nodded and raised the axe high above his head, his eyes wild with blood lust. In one downwards stroke, the blade struck Madame Françoise's neck, cutting cleanly through and bouncing off the hard marble floor, the sound resonating through the hall. Cissy watched as her mother's head rolled off, stopping half a metre away from her body, the eyes scrunched closed. Then she passed out.

Monsieur Françoise was screaming now in terror, the blood from his wife's headless corpse now seeping through his night clothes, his hands scratching and pulling at his hair. His screams were cut off abruptly as Macnair brought down the axe once more, the dull thud of the man's head and body hitting floor sounding clearly in the silence.

The death Eaters joined their master in his raucous laughter, stopping just as abruptly a moment later. Macnair rejoined his brothers in line, waving his wand to vanish his axe. Voldemort sat back in his chair, evidently pleased.

"Wake the girl," he ordered.

A Death Eater stepped forward to obey, waving his wand over Cissy's body and saying, "_Rennervate_."

Cissy's eyes fluttered open and the Death Eater stepped back into line. Wiping her face of her tears, she sat up, her eyes falling instantly on the corpses of her adoptive parents. She bit her lip as it threatened to tremble, and clenched her jaw, setting her face determinedly. She would not be beaten by this monster!

Voldemort watched her reaction and smiled, clearly enjoying her fighting spirit. He enjoyed breaking the stubborn ones.

"As a message to the rest of the Wizarding World, I am going to make this young woman a Death Eater, proving to them all that I am not to be crossed."

He stepped forward, grabbing Cissy's left arm and ripping off the sleeve of her nightdress. He took his wand and pressed it firmly against the bare skin. Soon, the smell of decaying and burnt flesh filled the air as the symbol of a skull with a serpent tongue winding from its open mouth appeared on Cissy's arm, black and foreboding. He let go and Cissy clutched her arm to her chest as she backed up away from him.

He walked off as she glared at him, hating him with every fibre of her being. He stood in silence for some time, his back to them all, but not a single Death Eater moved nor spoke. Eventually, he turned to face them.

"Snape!"

A Death Eater stood forward and knelt on one knee.

"My lord?"

Voldemort gestured toward Cissy.

"You are to take care of the girl. She is to finish the rest of her education, and see to it that it is an ample one. I will not have a simpleton for a Death Eater."

"My lord are you-"

Voldemort advanced on him. "Do you question my orders, Snape?" The Death Eater backed off.

"No, my lord."

"Good. See to it that she also receives the best education in potions. I am led to believe that she is an able student in the subject, and it would be good to have an insurance brewer should anything, ah, untoward happen to you."

Snape bristled but said nothing, merely bowing and stepping back into line, dragging Cissy to her feet with him.

Voldemort turned back to the rest of his followers.

"Very well, it seems our business here is over. You know what to do."

He swept out of the hall, followed by Death Eaters. Some of them swept their way through the house, ransacking it of anything of value or even faint interest. Cissy stared at them all, knowing there was nothing she could say or do. She felt a slight pressure at her elbow and turned to find Snape watching her expectantly through his mask.

"Come, I don't have all evening," he said curtly. She snorted humourlessly and shook her head.

"Apparently," she said, sighing gently, "I do."

He gave her an odd look as he grasped her arm and apparated her away.

~{(HP)}~

_Spinner's End  
England_

Snape threw his cloak and mask on the small armchair in the sitting room before walking into the adjoining room and retrieving a small decanter and two glasses from a glass fronted cabinet. Cissy hovered uneasily by the front door in the sitting room, still clutching her abused arm, watching Snape as he poured himself a glass of amber liquid and knocked it back easily. He poured more liquid into each of the two glasses and brought them into the sitting room, where he handed on to Cissy.

"Drink that, it'll help," he said as he sat down in the armchair, moving his cloak and mask aside. Cissy looked at it sceptically.

"What is it?"

"Just drink it," he snapped, tiredly. She glanced at him a moment then shrugged and downed it in one. Snape raised his eyebrows, looking at her in amazement as she set the glass on the table. She caught his eye.

"Now what?" Snape looked at her.

"That was firewhiskey," he said plainly. She looked back at him, nonplussed.

"So?"

Snape stared at her a moment, seeming to consider something before shaking his head.

"Never mind." He sat back in the armchair. "Feel free to explore the house, but stay out of the cellar and the master bedroom."

Cissy took that as a clear dismissal, so went off in search of a bathroom where she could clean herself up and remove the remaining glass shards in her hands and feet. She made good use of the shower, the water soothing to the new Dark Mark broiled into her skin. She let the water cascade over her body, easing away the tension of the evening, salt-water tears mingling with the clean water rivulets running down her cheeks. She sat down in the bottom of the shower, brining her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, letting the water wash over her, washing everything of the past evening away. She sobbed uncontrollably into her knees, grieving over her lost family. Somehow she knew, deep inside, she would never get to say goodbye; there would be nothing to say goodbye to, nothing to bury, no ashes to scatter.

She sat there for some time, long after the water had gone cold. She didn't have her wand, so could not reheat it, and sat there, shivering, sobbing, and aching. Eventually, she shut off the shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping herself in it as she wandered around the house.

There were only three rooms on the upper floor of the building: the bathroom, the master bedroom and a spare bedroom. She ran her hands over a hand-made quilted eiderdown thrown neatly over the bed in the spare bedroom. The room was decorated very simply, with plain white walls, books on the shelves, a pale wooden wardrobe with a matching chest of drawers, plain curtains over the windows and a simple, old mirror hanging on the wall. She sat on the edge of the bed as she stared out of the window across a small dirty river overshadowed by a large, old factory. She rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to heat them, before pulling loos the curtain ties and letting them fall shut across the window, blocking out the early dawn light.

"I see you've found the bedroom," said a voice from the doorway. Cissy didn't turn around, just nodded where she was. She heard Snape enter the room and set something on the bed beside her.

"I had your wand and some clothes brought by one of your house elves. It insisted on remaining with you, so is now making itself useful in the kitchen, I believe." Cissy turned to face him.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," she said sincerely. He looked at her and nodded, his expression blank.

"It was all I could get before they burned down the house, I'm afraid." He sounded almost apologetic, Cissy noted. She shook her head.

"It's alright, I… I guess I'm glad they did." She turned away, a confused expression on her face. Snape looked at her oddly but left her in peace.

She finally came down half an hour later, fully dressed in clean clothes and robes, her face looking scrubbed and raw. He gestured toward the sofa and offered her another drink which she accepted gratefully, but drank a little more slowly, Snape noticed. After a moment, the house elf entered, announcing dinner. Cissy watched it as though from a great distance, looking slightly dejected before rising and following it into the small kitchen.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, with neither person in much of a talkative state and the comfortable silence suited them both. They ate silently, though Cissy didn't eat much at all, pushing her food around her plate more often than raising the fork to her mouth. It irritated Snape, to see it go to waste, but he kept quiet.

Afterwards, they resettled back in the sitting room, Cissy staring deep into the flames of the fire. Snape watched her curiously for a long moment before settling back and clearing his throat.

"It seems we are stuck with our present predicament, Miss Françoise," he said. She looked up into his eyes, and shook her head.

"Cissy," was all she said.

"Excuse me?" She sighed.

"Cissy. If we're going to be stuck with each other for any amount of time, then you might as well use my name. My full name is Cecilia Amora Françoise, but if it's all the same to you I prefer Cissy."

Snape stared at her for a moment, before nodding. "Very well, Cissy, in light of the present circumstance I think you may call me Severus." She nodded in reply and he continued.

"I think it necessary to ask, before I continue, what your plans are with regards to the Dark Lord." Cissy turned and stared incredulously at him for so long that he averted his gaze out of discomfort, surprising himself. To have been outstared by a teenager, especially given who he was, was simply embarrassing. Eventually she smiled and turned away, shaking her head.

"Well, I'm hardly going to go for the 'Most Faithful Death Eater' award, am I?" She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "God knows I'm not happy about all of this, but I don't exactly get a choice in the matter." She stood up and went to the window, looking out at the bare street, the early light of dawn making it look eerie and unwelcoming. She shivered and returned to her seat.

"I don't want to be a Death Eater, Severus. Given the choice, and the guts, I'd much prefer to give the guy a good kick, but I'd probably die if I did that." She smiled wryly and looked at him.

"To cut it short, Severus, _J'il deteste._" She looked Severus square in the eye with her firm, brown gaze. "I hate the bastard and would love to cut his black heart out myself."

Severus looked at her and smirked, nodding. "Very well, that answers my question. In that case, I feel you ought to know that I hold no love for the Dark Lord or his cause either." Cissy looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I assume you know of the Order of the Phoenix?" She nodded.

"The rebel group, led by Albus Dumbledore? Sure, who hasn't?" He also nodded.

"Well, I am in fact, a spy for Dumbledore. As such, I wonder if you would not be safer at the Headquarters of the Order. You would be less prone to visits from Death Eaters when surrounded by so many Order members and so many wards and precautions."

"Sounds like hell," Cissy said dryly. He smirked.

"Yes, well, I gathered you value your life, so it seems the most prudent course of action."

"That's very thoughtful of you." Snape shifted uncomfortably.

"I also wonder if you would consider a transfer for your seventh year. A transfer to Hogwarts, where you will be more easily guarded."

Cissy nodded, a slight frown on her face. "Does that mean I will have to take Hogwarts examinations? I sat my final exams last term, like the rest of my year. Hogwarts students don't sit them till their seventh year, do they?"

Severus nodded. "That is correct, though I'm sure if you transferred you may be exempted from your examinations. If not, I'm sure it would be no mean feat for you to re-take them, would it?"

"I suppose not, but I'd rather not."

"I'm sure," Severus said dryly as he got to his feet. He pulled on a cloak, gesturing for Cissy to follow suit. When they were ready, he led her outside and off to a small alley, where they apparated to London.

~{(HP)}~

Harry wandered aimlessly around the slightly misty streets of Surrey, the breeze ruffling its way through his hair, the unseasonal chill making him huddle up inside his jacket. He stood for a moment on the edge of the park fence, enjoying the peace of the early morning, as the birds woke within their nests, before the people of the world woke up to their busy muggle lives. He sighed, wishing he could join his friends at Grimmauld Place, imagining that he'd walk through the door to find Sirius bounding towards him, smiling, reassuring him it had all been a dream, and that he'd been waiting for him all along.

Harry sighed, gave on last longing look to the brightening sky then turned back home to cook the Dursley's their breakfast.

~{(HP)}~

Severus signalled to Cissy to remain quiet as she stood in the hall, removing her cloak and hanging it up. He did the same, then led her down the dark, dingy hallway to a large kitchen, occupied with people, mainly with red hair.

"Severus! We weren't expecting you," said a small, dumpy woman with a cheerful face. Severus shook his head, seating himself at the long table in the centre of the room and gesturing the chair beside him to Cissy.

"No, Molly, this was a somewhat unexpected visit," he replied politely, accepting the cup of tea she handed him. He waved a hand toward Cissy.

"May I introduce Cissy Françoise, the newest resident of Grimmauld Place, provided Mr Potter has no objections."

The woman bustled over with a cup of tea for her and set it down. "Hello dear, pleased to meet you. You get that down you, you look as if you need it, and don't worry about Harry, I'm sure he won't object."

Cissy nodded silently and sipped the tea gratefully. After a moment, she set the cup down, noticing Severus' eyes fixed upon her again.

"Now what have I done?" she asked exasperated. He shook his head.

"It's more what you haven't done," he answered. "You don't seem at all surprised that Harry Potter should be here."

She shrugged. "Do I look like I give a damn about that, Severus? Unlike most people, I think that Harry Potter should be left damn well alone to live his own bloody life instead of all these interfering prats nosing about all the godforsaken time."

He raised his eyebrows, as did most of the other occupants of the kitchen. One of them, a man with light brown, greying hair smiled at her from behind his glasses.

"Harry is definitely going to like you," he said approvingly. Cissy smiled back politely.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," she said. He smiled again.

"Observant, aren't you? No, you didn't. I'm Remus Lupin, this is Nymphadora Tonks, Arthur, Molly and Bill Weasley and-"

"Fleur?" said Cissy incredulously. "Is that you?"

Fleur looked around, her eyes widening in shock. "Cecilia!" she squealed, delightedly. She jumped up and embraced Cissy, before kissing her on both cheeks. The other occupants in the room winced and exchanged looks.

"And 'ow are you? I 'ave 'eard about your family, I am very sorry for your loss," she said, her voice sincere. Cissy shook her head.

"It's nothing Fleur, really, though I appreciate your concern. I'm sure I'll get over it in time."

Fleur nodded understandingly. "Eef there is anything I can do to 'elp, you know where I am, hmm?"

Cissy nodded gratefully. "Thank you Fleur, you are very kind."

They both sat back down, and Cissy drank the rest of her tea while Severus explained what had happened. As he spoke, exhaustion set in on Cissy in waves and she laid her head down on the table. She was soon fast asleep.


End file.

Harry Potter