Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own Harry Potter, only my OCs. Please ask my permission before borrowing them. I don't actually know if I own them, I just adopted them...
Darkest Black
Prologue
"Veronica, straighten your dress!" The middle-aged woman spoke bitterly, "We are attending a gathering hosted by the Nobel House of Black! Look presentable!"
"Yes mother," Squeaked the little girl beside her, fiddling with the hem of her violet dress.
"Don't talk to me like that girl," said Veronica's mother, slapping the poor girl across the face. "Remember, do not speak unless you are spoken to, do not answer a question unless it is directed to you and you only, do not wander off, and do not embarrass me in front of Walburga."
"What about me mother," asked a girl, slightly older than Veronica.
"You stand around and look pretty, Isabella, and wait for your perfect suitor to turn up." Veronica almost snorted, but thought better of it - she didn't want another red hand print on her face. "It's almost time, we best go in. Veronica, do something with your hair!" They proceeded to the house, and knocked on the door. A grim looking house elf opened the door, "Mistress Black awaits you," he greeted them. They made their way through the house.
"Xenia," Someone called, "so glad you could make it."
"Walburga, do you really think I would miss the chance to see you again," Veronica's mother responded.
"Ah, I see you have brought your children along," Walburga said, shooting a look at Veronica and Isabella, "I heard what happened to your husband dear, Sherlock his name was?"
"Yes, terrible accident," Veronica's mother, not showing any signs of sadness, spoke casually. Veronica, on the other hand, stiffened. Her mother had drowned him in the lake outside their home because he threw a few insults at her. He lived long enough to give Veronica the family heirloom, the Ravenbird locket. It was a silver locket in the shape of a heart. On the front were several blue jewels forming the shape of a raven. Veronica wore it round her neck day and night.
"Best we make our way to the party," said Walburga, after an awkward silence. They were lead into a large room with golden flooring. There were already a few people there, some were dancing, some talking and drinking.
"Ah, more guests Walburga?" a wrinkly looking man asked .
"Yes, the Ravenbirds," She responded, gesturing pointedly by miming slitting her throat.
"Oh," he exclaimed, "The ones who lost Sherlock? Shame, nice chap," He took a swig from his glass.
"I agree," said Walburga. She then went into a deep discussion with Veronica's mother, and said girl tuned out.
It was likely to be about pure-blood supremacy and how worthless muggle-borns are. Veronica believed not a word of it - every one should be treated equally in her book.
Her eyes wandered until they settled on a young boy not a day older than ten. He had long, lustrous black hair, striking gray eyes, and an air of casual elegance. All in all he was rather handsome. Veronica also noticed he looked quite lonely, as he was standing by himself. Slowly, she made her way over to him, whist trying to look elegant. If she embarrassed her mother she would get another scare for the collection.
"Hello" she said, grabbing the boy's attention, "I'm Veronica Ravenbird, who are you?" The boy didn't respond, he just stared at her for a moment, then drifted his attention elsewhere. "Really, what a lovely name," she said sarcastically. Still no reply. After a few more moments of silence, she followed the boy's gaze to see where he was staring. "Walburga Black," she muttered, "not one of my favorite people." Realization dawned on what she had just said. She had insulted a Back!
"Really," The boy said in a slightly shocked voice, "She's my mother." Veronica felt herself growing pale. As he looked at her she went, if possible, paler still. Then all of a sudden, he smirked. "I have finally found someone who shares my dislike for her!" Color swarmed back into her body. "Sirius Black," he stated.
"Sirius," she said, "odd name." Realization, once again, dawned on what she said. "Merlin, I really need to learn when to shut up," she told herself. Sirius just chuckled.
"It's not so bad, it just means I can do a lot of bad jokes with it." They both laughed. Veronica wondered something, though.
"How can you dislike your own mother?" The smile disappeared from his face. "I…don't want to talk about it right now," He mumbled nervously, "Not with other people here…" Veronica felt a deep pity for Sirius. She guessed Walburga was the same as her mother: Not the slightest bit fazed about taking out aggression on a child through her violence.
"I know how you feel," She murmured, staring at her feet (or what little her dress hadn't covered), "My mother is quite content with taking out her frustrations upon me." She looked away, not wanting to see his face. However, she would rather see his face than watch her sister Isabella suck-up to some broad-shouldered, beady-eyed fourteen year-old. "Isabella, I expected you to have a better taste in men," she shook her head disgusted. That boy was revolting!
She turned back towards Sirius, who had a mixture of pity and sadness etched upon his face. "Is that how you got that hand-print on your face?" he asked solemnly. Veronica hastily tried to cover her face with her jet-black hair. When he raised an eyebrow, she would've answered yes, but a sudden yell cut her off.
"Veronica!" cried her mother, fuming. She could just picture the physical pain she would endure later. "I warned you NOT to wander off! COME!" Veronica obeyed immediately, only to receive another slap on her face. Veronica didn't cry. She never cried. The last time she cried was on the day her father died. It pained her to think of it. Since that day, she was constantly abused, and Isabella, oh she was the Golden Child. Never got into trouble, always the center of attention, in other words, the ideal child for her mother.
"Isabella, come here dear, we're leaving! So sorry about Veronica, Walburga," Xenia said her name with such disgust, Veronica wondered why she chose to have a second child. She also added in a whisper, but loud enough for Veronica to hear, "She never was as committed to the Dark Lord as the rest of us." Veronica's blood boiled, not because her mother considered her unworthy, but because she was expected to follow Lord Voldemort's (only Death Eaters and Death Eater-wannabes called him the Dark Lord) orders! They were totally barbaric! These thoughts caused her to do something very brave and incredibly stupid.
"I never was committed to Lord Voldemort, and I never will be." It may have been barley over a mumble, but it still had an affect. The small crowd that had gathered round them had fallen silent, and was sending Veronica dark looks filled with hatred. "You dare speak his name," Her mother's cold voice stabbed her like a knife with every syllable, "You filthy blood-traitor!"
"I would happily call him by his birth name, mother!" She saw her mother's nostrils flaring.
"Out," she cried, "OUT!" before she could object, she grabbed Veronica by her hair and was forcefully steering her out the door, Isabella trotting along behind. Once they had reached outside, her mother said in a deadly whisper before they apparated, "You, girl, are lucky I didn't strangle you then and there!"
They suddenly appeared inside the dark hallway. The walls were littered with paintings of their oh-so-worthy Slytherin ancestors. Just how they left it. However, Veronica had no time to admire the hall.
She would be on the receiving end of her mother's loyalty to Lord Voldemort. First, a slap to the face. "WHAT ON EARTH POSSESSED YOU TO SAY THAT ABOUT OUR LORD! ANSWER ME YOU DIRTY SQUIB!" she shrieked in her face. Yup, next the shrieking, after the explanation she would receive a beating, and then she would hide in her room.
"I have said it before and I shall say it again," Veronica said calmly, "I do not share your views about pure-blood supremacy and it is likely I never will!"
And now the most painful part: the beating. Veronica braced herself. Her mother kicked her in the stomach, causing her to double over. Another slap on the face, a pull of her hair, and finally, for good measure, a violent slam into the wall. A loud snap! and a large pain on both her nose and her ribs told her she had broken them. She also suspected a fractured skull, due to dizziness.
"GET OUT OF MY SITE MUD-BLOOD LOVER!"
She staggered away, up the stairs.
She heard her mother give words of comfort to her sister, "There, there darling. You'll see that boy again, at Hogwarts. What was his name? Leonardo Goyle…" she closed the door of her room quietly.
Veronica sunk into wall from lack of strength, and glanced around her room.
Her mahogany twin bed occupying the majority of it, with it's red silk duvet with golden lining. To the left of it, her matching mahogany dresser and trunk. To the right of her bed, was her, once again mahogany, bedside table. Her tawny owl Sybill snoozing on her perch. Perched next to the wall was her (three guesses which wood) mahogany mirror. She had a thing for mahogany. She had a good guess her wand would be mahogany too. She had an odd obsession with mahogany. She stood up with great difficulty and noticed blood on her green wallpaper.
She definitely needed to learn to keep her mouth shut.
Did anyone notice my little easter egg? A cookie for the first person who gets it right!