Her footsteps were brisk but soundless, her almond-shaped silver eyes evident in the black of her cloak and hood. Jenna White stepped into the corridor, coming to a halt in front of the second door. She raised her hand to knock and –

“Come in.”

With a slight smile, Jenna let her hand fall without knocking. The door opened of its own accord, and she walked in, her eyes adjusting to the sudden dimness of the room.

It was a circular little thing, this room, with high walls, no ventilation and little furniture. Almost like him, she could not help thinking. He was ambitious, his power far-reaching, but he was also narrow - narrow of mindset about life, narrow of mindset about its mysteries.

Lord Voldemort stood by a table, leaning against it in a lazy, negligent way, but she knew him too well to think he was not at his most alert. A man she did not know stood besides him, only his face visible underneath the black hood pushed up his head.

All that black always got to her.

“It’s hot,” she said, making a face and pushing back her hood. “Do these cloaks have to be so black? Can’t we wear, like, white stuff in summer?”

The man next to Voldemort looked up, doubt in his eyes as he waited for the Dark Lord’s reaction. The Dark Lord had said she was his special weapon, this Jenna, the best of all his new servants, one of his most accomplished death eaters - and yet, despite his word, she barely looked it. He could see her face clearly, now that she had pushed back the hood; and it was undoubtedly fairer than any he had ever seen before. The eyes were wide - haunting. Almond-shaped; silver.

No, indeed, she did not look a death eater.

Voldemort’s eyes swept Jenna, his gaze expressionlessly severe. “This is the man I wanted you to meet, Jenna. Tom Redwork,” he said quietly. “Tom – Jenna White. The pride of my new recruits.”

He said the last sentence with a strange sort of relish, the kind he showed at a victory long awaited, or when a dangerous enemy fell. Tom's eyes caught Jenna's, and he nodded. The pride of the Dark Lord’s new recruits? But she seemed so young, so very young. So.. innocent.

So hauntingly innocent.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Miss White,” he said finally.

“I look forward to working with myself, too,” Jenna grinned. “And Tom? The name’s Jenna, not Miss White.”

Tom smiled, a little uncertainly. She spoke freely, much more freely than any other death eater he had seen or worked with. And that, too, in the Dark Lord’s presence. What was it that made her different? Was it the style? Or the lurking, lingering innocence? How could someone with her appearance have killed?

“Is that all, Master?” he asked, tearing himself away from his thoughts.

Lord Voldemort nodded, his handsome face both hidden in, and outlined by, the shadows. Seconds later, Tom Redwork was pulling his hood down his face, and fastening back his cloak. Jenna watched him leave, her mind wandering to Wormtail.

There was still half an hour to go before the time she had given him ran out.