The Last Gryffindor (Sirius Black)

Chapter XVII: Brainwashed

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I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their intellects. A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies.
—OSCAR WILDE

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"I've been looking forward to meeting you, Aeliana."

Voldemort's voice slithered over her like a soft caress. Aeliana shivered with an uneven mixture of pent up anticipation and delight. She'd been waiting for this moment for so long.

"Thank you, my lord. You flatter me more than I deserve. It is I who has been wanting to meet you," Lia replied, meaning every word.

He stepped forward, gesturing for her to rise from her steep bow. Around them, a dozen Death Eaters crowded the Great Hall of Malfoy Manor, each with their face concealed by a dark mask. Lia, alone, wore her regular robes, as opposed to their elaborate dark twisting folds.

"I must admit, I'd always hoped the Gryffindors would side by my cause. A shame how things turned out. I would have liked to avoid spilling such rare, pure blood," Voldemort said.

"No! It is I who am ashamed, my lord. I am sorry for how my family behaved, and I hope you will not judge me by their foolishness, my lord," Lia begged, gripped by a foreign passion. "Even if it is just me now, the Gryffindor line would like nothing more than to make your dream our own."

"Yes, that's what I hoped," he mused, circling slowly around her, his long, draping robes trailing behind. "But I need proof of your loyalty."

"Anything, my lord," she replied earnestly. "I would do anything for you."

She meant every word. Her heart ached to serve him; it was the only thing she really wanted. Her parents were fools for turning their backs on him. As far as she was concerned, the world was better off with them gone.

"Then open your mind," he said, placing a cold finger to her temple. "Let me see your desire to serve me."

"Of course, my lord." Lia shut her eyes, savouring the feeling of his cool skin against hers.

Slowly, she lowered all the wards protecting her mind. After living so long with them present, she forgot the vulnerable feeling of an exposed mind. It was like being naked, alone in the middle of a sandy beach. She could feel each breeze with a sharp, cutting clarity, except it wasn't a breeze at all, but this new, foreign mind.

Deep down, somewhere, a part of her screamed to throw her walls back in place as Lord Voldemort dived through her memories. Lia frowned at the urge. Why would she want to keep him out? This was all she ever wanted... right?

She saw what he saw as he rifled through her head. Her annoyance at her old, idiot friends for wanting to keep her away from Lord Voldemort, the desperate search to find out everything that she could about him, her joy when Regulus and them said she would finally get to meet their master, and even her confusion the time Sirius kissed her a few days after her family's funeral. The thought of Sirius sent a shot something burning through her, but what? The emotion dissipated almost immediately, so fast she was certain she'd imagined it.

By the end of it, her mind felt rubbed raw, weak from overexertion, but Voldemort seemed satisfied. He took a solitary step back and turned to the assembled Death Eaters, his arms spread wide in welcome.

"My friends," he began, diplomatically, "today our ranks grow by one, and not just anyone, but by a person whose noble lineage nearly matches my own. Meet our newest addition, the last heir of Gryffindor!"