AN: And another new story. Sue me. I'm Sirius.
Bad jokes aside, I really am excited about this one and I really really hope this will be received at least okay-ish as I want this to become big. It is heavily inspired by Silently Watches' Black Princess/Queen- series. If you haven't read this yet, please do. Jennifer Black's story is one of the best in the HP section of ff dot net.
You may find some similarities between this story and SW's series, but ultimately it is my own.
Now, the Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual situations between adults and minors/teenagers, explicit depictions of violence
Please leave your thoughts and constructive criticism and mention any glaring spelling/grammar mistakes. Enjoy!
Disclamer: I don't own whack.
Sirius Black had seen a lot of things in his still early life but when Amelia Bones sent him to Ireland to work with the local auror's office in investigating what was assumed to be the work of dark wizards and/or witches he was shocked at seeing the state of his Irish colleagues.
After exiting the floo he saw a lot of aurors rushing to and fro, parchments in hands, shouting at each other so they would be heard over the noise of the office.
"Damn…" He muttered to himself before he was greeted by a stocky, gruff looking man, his ginger hair shaved short to his scalp.
"Auror Black, I assume?"
Nodding, Sirius took his colleagues hand into a firm shake. "You assume correctly."
"The name's O'Byrne." The Irish introduces himself. "As you can see our collective arses are on fire."
Chuckling without humor, Sirius let his gaze sweep once more over the chaotic auror's office. "What exactly is going on?"
Nodding towards his desk, O'Byrne led Sirius away from the hustle and bustle and set down after offering the other chair to his guest.
"This whole shitshow began two years ago." O'Byrne began. "Some young couple. Minding their own business, taking a stroll in the Curraghchase Forest Park, what have you. Vanished."
Sirius' eyebrows rose at that. "Just like that?"
"Just like that. But shit like that happens all the time, right? People go somewhere and disappear. Unfortunate, but nothing too odd about it." The redheaded auror gave a nonchalant shrug. "Exactly a month late, some guy and his dog disappear in Curraghchase."
"Exactly a month?"
"To the day. A day later the dog is found, dead. Not a single clue about the guy though. But again, those things happen. This one was slightly weird but not completely unnatural, am I right?" Grinning darkly, he pulled out a photograph from his desk's drawer, sliding it over to Sirius. "Exactly a month later a muggle found this."
"A circle of dirt?" Sirius asked, confusion evident in his voice.
"That's what we thought as well, at first. Take a closer look."
Sirius did as asked, his eyes narrowed in concentration as they scanned every inch of the muggle photograph. The quality was poor and he distinctly remembered how in muggle conspiracy sites on the internet- the single greatest thing ever invented in his humble opinion- people would complain about photographs like this, calling the cameras used to shoot them 'potato cams'.
But then his eyes caught something in one corner of the circle. "Someone was sloppy…" He mumbled to himself before looking up at his colleague. "That's a rune there, isn't it?"
"It definitely looks like it. Like the futhark rune perthro to be exact. Occult abilities, feminine mysteries, fertility."
"So we might be looking at a ritual site here…"
"Pretty much the only lead in any direction we have had in two years."
Gaze still on the photograph, Sirius' scowl deepened. "If we are really dealing with something ritualistic…and if this really is connected to the missing people…"
"Then we are dealing with sacrificial rituals, yeah. The muggles talk about Witches of the Wilds." O'Byrne chuckled. "But in all seriousness…we need help. We are understaffed over here, underfunded. This is bigger than we can handle and I've complained about this since last year."
"I understand. How many more people have gone missing since that ritual site was found?" Sirius asked.
"Eighteen. The last one two weeks ago."
"Was it always two males and one female?"
O'Byrne's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes…"
Smirking darkly, Sirius leaned forward slightly. "You see the pattern? Always a total of three victims. Always two male and one female. A total of twenty-one victims. I bet it was a total of seven rituals."
Nodding in understanding, the Irish muttered softly. "Significant magical numbers, a significance to the sex of the victims…"
"This is some serious shite you guys have to deal with here. Take me to that forest and let me have an up close look to the location. I doubt it, but maybe we'll find something." Sirius got up from his chair, O'Byrne following him. "At least I'll have followed my boss's orders to the letter with taking a look at this whole situation for myself, even if I don't think that that's really needed anymore."
A young girl's head perked up at the feeling of her and her family's wards being trespassed. Golden eyes narrowed and a growl escaped her throat in irritation.
It was only a matter of time, she thought to herself. Unbelievable that Margaret of all people didn't clean up properly after our rituals.
Once she and her two sisters got wind of the fact that the first of their seven ritual sites set up for her full initiation to the small and only remaining Coven had been found, they had begun to be extra careful. Margaret had received a thorough chewing out, especially considering that she was always the one pressing upon her and Magdalene the importance of not leaving evidence.
And yet, here they were: their haven, their forest being trespassed by magical law enforcement.
She looked over her shoulder at her two sisters, who both shared a glance at the disturbance but didn't seem too worried. "I am going to take a look at the trespassers."
Magdalene smiled at their youngest. "Be careful, sweetness."
Smiling in return, the young girl's form collapsed into itself as she shrank and changed into a crow. She crowed once before taking flight, vanishing between the trees.
It didn't take her too long to find a group of four men; one in a red robe, the other three wearing green robes.
She landed on a tree branch a few feet ahead from them and cocked her head. Three are Irish aurors. The other…probably British. Would make sense at least.
The girl and her sisters did have to deal with the odd auror hunting them, investigating the cases of missing muggles and the occasional wizard and witch.
It came with what they were: the last of the last Coven Witches.
When she was still a child, Margaret told her about their kind.
Coven Witches, so Margaret said, weren't necessarily out for world domination, like the Dark Lords of the past, but they did dabble in dark and primal, at times even black, magic. That was the reason why, while not exactly feared, they were avoided.
With the Covens only inhabiting witches, some of them did practice magic which could make use of the sensuality the female form possessed, creating sex magic in the process. It was raw and beautiful, channeling the power of such an intimate act, cleansing cursed land, fertilizing and rejuvenating dead crop.
One day, the witches of a coven in the Scottish highlands, close to a village, were looking for the daughter of one of theirs.
The daughter was young, not even ten yet, and usually played with the children of the village. The children didn't understand the wariness their parents felt towards the Covens, their innocent minds allowing them to ignore and overcome such issues.
One of the children's father, though, was more vocal in his opinions against the Covens than others and when he saw his son being close to the spawn of the she-devils he snapped.
The little girl, ever obedient, did as the Coven told her and would not raise her hands against the mundane man as he rushed at her and dragged her away. The other children froze in their fear and ran back to their homes, ignoring the cries of the girl.
The man screamed at her, hit her and told her he would show her what he would do to the devil's spawn bewitching his son. In the end he raped her and broke her arms and legs.
Not once did the girl raise her magic against the mundane man.
A day passed and finally the witches found the broken body of the girl, who succumbed to the pain wrought upon her. They all cried and the heartache of the loss of such a young one was felt in every Coven of the islands.
Mad with grief, the mother swore revenge upon the entire village but would not do so until she found a way to pervert the magic her kind used to keep the village's crops healthy. Her sisters, who felt the grief for their littlest as much as the mother did, never intervened.
So, one night the witch stole the man who violated her daughter from his bed and bound him. Once they were far enough from the village, she disrobed him and herself, conjured a twisted dagger made of nothing but dark smoke before carving the runes necessary into his stomach with it. Dipping her fingers in his blood, she painted runes onto her stomach right above her womb.
She then straddled his hips, his member prominent between her thighs despite the situation he found himself in, before she sank onto him and started to ride him, the smoky blade constantly hovering over his heart.
Once she felt him climax inside of her, her face contorted into a mad grin as she rammed the unnatural blade into his heart.
A blinding light, accompanied by a piercing shriek, consumed the man and hellish fires turned him into ash to be scattered by a freezing wind.
The witches hand pressed against her stomach as she stumbled her way back towards the village and sat down onto the ground, her legs spread. She poured her magic into her womb, her body convulsing with pain as she gave birth to the creation of her sacrificial ritual. A shadow beast without a solid form crept out of her womb into this realm, it's glowing red eyes staring at it's mother.
"Go," she said. "Destroy them."
The eldritch beast obeyed it's mother and wreaked havoc upon the village. It tore into young and old, blood and gore soon spread throughout. The screams and cries of horror and fear filled the night sky as the witch stared at the destruction in front of her before she rose onto shaky legs and returned to her Coven, leaving the mundanes at the mercy of the manifestation of her anger and hate.
It was after news of this incident spread that the 'light' wizards and witches decided that Covens were too dangerous to exist. Over the following fifty years, up to the early 1900s the light exterminated every Coven and every witch it entailed.
Except for Margaret and Magdalene, who, as young as they were, managed to hide from the light as their sisters and mothers were slaughtered.
The young girl never forgot this story because of the hypocrisy in it. The magical people, in her opinion, should build a united front. When her foremothers needed their fellow magical people they were left abandoned with their grief. Yet when they retaliated- and rightly so- they were exterminated and destroyed like vermin. The light did not avenge the loss of a magical child but the destruction of those who ignored the cries of said child.
It made her angry. She wondered if her foremothers felt like she did now; hiding from wizards and witches who claimed they were good yet crushed their own kind under their feet when they felt like it. Like now they would find themselves in situations when they drew too much attention on themselves. She knew that she and her sisters would soon have to move their location.
She wondered if they could go to Dyfnant Forest in Wales this time. She enjoyed the late night swims in close by Lake Vyrnwy.
Shaking her crow head, she returned her attention back to the four men below her.
Once the group of aurors closed in on her position, she flew a bit closer to listen in on the conversation that was going on.
"- noble house?"
The lone auror with the red robe snorted. "I don't give a damn about that crap. I got kicked out when I was sixteen and removed from the family tree, all because I didn't exactly agree with all that blood purity nonsense."
"Well, good on you I suppose."
"Auror Black, Sir, aren't you related to the Boy-Who-Lived in some way? I remember reading about it when he started his first Hogwarts year I think." One of the other two Irish aurors asked.
That question made the young Coven witch start and a startled sound escaped her beak, but none of the men paid it any heed, if they even heard it.
"I actually am." Black answered with no small hint of pride in his voice. "I'm his godfather. His parents and I went to Hogwarts together."
"I also read about the girl…"
"Single greatest mistake any of us did…" Black's face and voice looked as drained as they did youthful when talking about his godson. "You understand if I don't want to go into any details about the whole story, but I have a missing-poster with me, charmed to look like how she should…could? Be looking now." He fished inside his robes for said poster. "We have no idea where she is, have been looking for years…"
"You know she could be-"
"As long as there's no body there's hope. There it is." Black was about to hand the man the poster when a black blur rushed at him with a sharp crow and snatched the poster from his hands, disappearing from sight a moment later.
A crow landed roughly in front of an old hut, startling two witches who were busy cleaning human bones. Morphing back into her human form, the golden-eyed girl took the poster from her mouth into her hands and gazed at it.
She could tell that the girl smiling back at her from the black and white poster was actually her. There, of course, were some irregularities. For instance, her lips were a bit fuller, her eyebrows were thinner and her hair was not loose and spilling beyond her shoulders like in the picture but bound to a messy bun with dark crow feathers decorating it.
And then there were her eyes. They were not green as stated; they were golden.
"Morrigan?" Magdalene's soft voice forced her gaze away from the poster. "Are you alright, sweetness?"
"They are looking for me."
"Who? The trespassers?"
"No." Morrigan denied, before handing Magdalene the poster.
Taking it from their youngest, Magdalene looked at it before smiling sadly. "We knew this would reach you sooner or later."
"So you were aware?"
"We have been for a while."
Pulling her fur garb, which was decorated with various small bones and dark feathers, tighter around her frame, she curled the toes of her bare feet into the dirt, a frown marring her soft features. "While I do not appreciate you keeping this from me, it ultimately does not matter." Her frown softened again as she looked at her two sisters. "You are my family after all. You were my mothers when I needed you to be and my sisters the rest of the time."
"And we have done a splendid job in raising you, if I dare say so myself." Margaret smirked, causing the raven-haired young witch to roll her eyes.
"Me being a delight had nothing to do with it, of course."
"Of course not." Margaret, the blonde of the trio, closed the distance to Morrigan, cupping her cheek before pulling her into an embrace. "Do you remember when we told you about what the cursed Light did to our kind?"
Nodding her head as she leaned into her sister's embrace, Morrigan's voice was barely above a whisper. "Yes."
The blonde brushed a loose raven lock behind Morrigan's ear as she continued. "Do you remember when we told you about our plans of retaliation?"
Shoulders sagging in defeat, Morrigan nodded again.
"Sweetness." Magdalene joined them, her ginger hair billowing behind her in the wind, as she put a hand on their youngest back. "We know you don't want to. But we all know that you are the only one who can. Margaret and I are nobodies in today's magical culture. But you…"
"I am the missing daughter of the Potters." The young witch finished with hardness in her voice.
For all she knew, the 'missing daughter of the Potters was dead. She died when she was dropped off and abandoned at the hands of magic hating mundanes, abused and starved. She died when her cries for her mother remained unheard and left her voice broken. She died when not a single one of the neighbors wondered why a young girl would scream in pain as a belt left her back bloodied and scarred.
In her blood she may still be the missing daughter, but in her heart and soul and very core she was someone entirely different now; someone born from the broken bones and spilled blood of an abandoned girl.
Blood, in the end, proved itself to not be thicker than water.
Retracting herself from the hug, she huffed, then sighed. "I really don't want to leave."
"We don't want you to leave either. But you…you have a place there you need to reclaim." Magdalene explained, something she did so many times. "This is as good an opportunity as any to do so now." Closing the distance to Morrigan once more, she placed a hand on the young witch's shoulder. "Your initiation is completed, you know all the magic you should at your age. You know what your body is capable of." At Morrigan's self-satisfied smirk Magdalene could only roll her eyes. "You are as ready as you can be. Go back to the society you were born into. Reclaim your place. Destroy them from the inside. Avenge our foremothers."
"Fine." The raven-haired witch sighed. "Let me get my wand and I'll leave already, since you obviously want me gone so badly."
"Teenage drama." Magdalene chuckled.
Her sister wrapped an arm over her shoulder and sighed wistfully. "Unbelievable, but I'll miss it once she has left."
"Me too, Margie. Me too."
With a bang Morrigan appeared in an alley between two stores of what Margaret dubbed 'Diagon Alley'. Supposedly it was a sort of main shopping area of the magical community and where most magical items where to be found.
Dressed only in a loose black dress- Magdalene said that her fur garb with the bones and feathers would stand out too much- she made her way tentatively to the main shopping area, wincing at the glaring colors, loud noises and the overall chaos. She already missed the forests.
But they definitely could forget going back to Curraghchase anytime soon. Once she was ready to leave, she remained a bit longer with her sisters to help them cleaning up their hideout, reinforce their wards and remove any other evidence that they were ever there. After they were done, Maggie showed her where she needed to go, providing the mental pictures and the goal she needed to be successful in her instant travel. Then, she bid goodbye to her sisters.
Now she was in a strange place with stranger people. It had been such a long time since she had to interact with anyone other than Maggie and Margie. Even when she talked to sacrifices it felt more like she was talking at them. In the end, they were nothing more than sacrifices. It made no sense to chat with them, to grow attached to them in any way. The end result would always be the same: they die and she and her sisters grow stronger, their wards live longer, Maggie and Margie remain young.
But now, she had to talk to people.
Frowning at someone bumping into her, she continued her aimless walk. She had no idea where to go, whom to talk to. Her head swiveled back and forth, eyeing a book store, then an apothecary, a shop that sold broomsticks of all things.
Then her eye caught a poster and she immediately made a beeline for it. Removing it from the broomstick shop's door, she moved to the side and looked at her face smiling back at her.
Sighing and steeling herself, she entered the shop and tried to make out the owner. Once she thought she found him at the back, polishing a broom before placing it back on the sale shelf, the young witch moved towards him and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me where I can find the people who made these posters?" She held it out for him to see.
The owner first looked at her then at the poster and back at her, his face changing from a kind smile to utter shock in an instant.
"By Merlin…" He gasped, putting a hand over his chest.
Morrigan was sitting on an uncomfortable bench after the shop owner led her to a dingy pub where he spoke with a balding old man. Said man eyed her curiously, then gave a sharp nod before he went to the fireplace, threw some powder in it and vanished in green flames.
The shop owner of the broomstick store joined her at the bench she was sitting at. "Miss, uh, Potter? Tom just went to inform your parents that you are here. He provided you a room upstairs for some privacy. I need to return to my shop, but wish you the best of luck." Sliding a key with a number engraved in it towards her, he got back up on his feet. "Your parents will be really happy that you have found your way back." He gave her a kind smile, which she returned with a fake one of her own. Waiting until he left, she took the key and went upstairs, ignoring the curious looks she received from the various patrons sitting around and nursing their drinks.
Once she reached the appropriate room, she unlocked the door and entered, making her way towards a bed and lying down on it. It wasn't particularly comfortable but she wouldn't sleep her anyways.
No, she would return to those who abandoned her. Even after Magdalene and Margaret told her so many times just why she had to do this it still didn't make it any better. She understood, she truly did, but who would want to live with the people who gave her to those dreadful people, robbing her of the innocence her childhood should have consisted of?
What made all of this even worse was the fact that the woman giving birth to her and the woman she was forced to live with before she 'ran away' were related. She didn't know the reasoning behind her birthmother's actions and she didn't really care. At the end of the day, the one who suffered was a little girl and that girl suffered from the age of one to the age of six.
But she needed them. As unfortunate as it was, she needed them. She didn't know much about today's society's build-up. Magdalene and Margaret told and taught her what they could, but one could only learn so much without being in the thick of things. She knew about the conflict of blood-purists and the liberals, she knew that the governing body, the Ministry of Magic, was the heart of the magical society and the general work place of most of the wizards and witches. She knew that the Potters were a very respected Light family who fought against the last Dark Lord and whose son- her brother- survived a curse that should have killed him, somehow destroying the Dark Lord in the process.
Hasty steps pulled her out of her thoughts and she sat up warily. The door to her room was carefully opened and a bespectacled head with messy black hair peeked inside before retreating. She heard a woman's frantic whispers and the muttering of a man, before a sole person seemed to be going back downstairs.
Her heart was beating frantically, her breathing labored as the door opened again and this time there was a red-haired woman- she preferred Maggie's coloring- with the black haired man. The woman looked teary eyed as did the man, but they both had the same hint of confusion written all over their faces.
Pretty sure it's my eyes, the teen thought to herself.
"Violet?" The woman asked softly.
Huffing in annoyance, the girl raised her chin slightly. "I distinctly remember that being my birth-name, but considering that I don't remember ever being addressed as such…I took a different name, given to me by my savior. It's Morrigan now."
That had them halt their movements towards her and she was glad. Morrigan was sure they wanted to hug her and cry all over her; things she could really do without.
"Morrigan? If that's- if that's what you want your name to be, it's okay." The woman told her shakily.
The conversation stopped, followed by an awkward silence, neither really knowing what to say.
"Vi- Morrigan…" The man corrected himself and she could feel that he didn't really like the name. "How did you find out about us looking for you? We've been looking for years! Where were you all this time?"
Her eyes burned with intense fury at that question. "Where was I all this time? Where were you all this time?! That is the better question!" She snarled at him. "Where were you when I screamed for you, when I was hit and starved?! Where were you when I was bleeding at the hands of your family?!" She lowered her voice again after shouting the last question at the woman, who was now crying silently after she collapsed onto an unoccupied chair. "But, to answer your question: while you probably still basked in the fame of your son I was nursed back to health after I wished myself away from that…cupboard…and my accidental magic granted it to me. I was starved, my magical core was basically empty and my back was inflamed. The first words I told my savior after she found me was 'I want to die'. I was six years old. From then on I was sheltered and cared for by her, the first person whose touches were gentle and loving instead of cruel and meant to hurt. I had no reason to leave. Does this answer your question?"
None of the things she said were lies and she remembered what an angry child she was at first once she realized that Margaret had saved her, but the dedication and energy both Margie and Maggie put into her care was enough to make her trust them. She was so starved for the motherly love they both showed her.
"We are so sorry!" The woman cried, her sobs wrecking her body but doing nothing to soften Morrigan's heart. "We never meant to hurt you!"
"But you did."
"All we wanted was for you to have as normal a childhood as possible." The man began to explain. "With Harry- your brother- surviving the killing curse and defeating You-Know-Who in the process there would be so much attention on such a young child…we thought if we gave you a few years away from all that we'd give at least one of our children a chance to a normal childhood…"
"And the best family for that was the family of your magic-hating sister?" She turned her attention to the woman. "And you never thought of checking in on me?" She waited for an answer but there was none.
"We made mistakes," the man said, carefully weighing his words, "we are more than aware. But we would like to at least…have a chance to make it up to you."
"And how do you plan on doing that?"
"In giving you a home and a chance to experience Hogwarts." The woman answered, looking at her pleadingly. "Please, please come home with us! I just…I want our family to be whole again…"
Groaning internally, she turned her gaze away from them. She already had a family and her education in magic went already deeper than what this supposed school could ever hope to offer, but she knew she had to see this through. It was a duty bestowed upon her and she would see this through; for her real family and for her foremothers.
Sighing dramatically, she accepted their offer. "It's not like I have much of a choice. If the woman who saved me were still alive I would not be here in the first place." As much as she loved Maggie and Margie and as much as they loved her, no one could say that they were really goodhearted people. Lying and manipulating came as easy to the two elder Coven witches as breathing and they made sure that Morrigan could use every and all tools she had to be as good at it as they were- and more.
They looked torn between ecstatic and awkward as the man was the first to react. "I'm sorry to hear that. I would have loved to thank her for taking care of you while we couldn't."
"Wouldn't. While you wouldn't." She would not allow them to weasel out of this.
"Yeah, right, uh…sorry. Anyways…let's get you home."
