One-shot, completely disconected from my other work, in no way related to Birds become Dragons.
AU No Hogwarts plot, forget the Time-turner
Fair warning: Graphic depictions of violence; Major character death; Mentions of violence towards children, nothing too obvious, but it's there.
Don't say I didn't warn you
Viperae Expectans
She has made it to their lair. She is deep in their den.
A reptile amongst warm blooded creatures that remain thoroughly oblivious to the danger at their door step. Past their door step.
She captured the blue-haired boy first. She knocked the part veela blondie straight out of his mind, and coiled around him. Not constricting, just holding, possessing.
All he saw was a blonde beauty with hair streaked of blue like his. Bright blue. An enthralling mimicry to lure him in.
Not her true colours. A coat of feathers to fool a prey.
He thinks of it as a signal that she was made for him, the fool, and she has seen it in his mind. And she has seen the way this ludicrous idea of love distorts their reality, making them so very vulnerable.
Then she captured his grandmother. Her own aunt, so elated by Teddy's finding of true love that she never bothered to look deeper. Never seeing the similarities beneath the veneer. Laughing at his silly displays of power, accompanying him sometimes, the two completely amiss of the far more powerful creature beside them. So in control that her looks never fail her, never falter. She has used these feathers for so long she only has a memory of the feel of her scales.
But she will show them. She will shed this feathery cloak when the time is right.
He cleared the path for her. She had soon been introduced to his godfather and she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she were to cast a simple hex to bring that pain that haunted him back. She was so close she could actually touch him, carve her own mark into his skin. But she knew the time wasn't right, so she forced her dark cold scales under the bright warm feathers and waited.
It was a matter of weeks then. The Golden Trio was there for her taking, with the benefit of having access to their entire families. Potters, Grangers and Weasleys. All surrounding her. While she commands her siege.
So now she waits. She has made her nest in their safe haven, and will now enjoy her wait as she gathers her venom, tasting the air for the perfect moment to strike. To drive her long awaiting fangs deep in the flesh of her enemies, and watch them dissolve from the inside so that she can feast.
She will avenge her Father, and her Mother. She will avenge her own childhood. She will avenge her own deprivation. She will strike a blow so powerful to the heart of the Light, there will be no fixing it.
xxxxXxxxx
It's Halloween.
She has been planting the seed of a family gathering in all their minds, making sure the kids all got their leaves from Hogwarts.
They've gathered everyone in the house that should have been her Mother's. That should be hers.
She has decided on black for the occasion. Flowing shadowy fabric that tumbles off her body in a sensuous way that leaves them all staring.
Tonight, the bird dies and the serpent feeds.
Tonight, the Augurey shall carve her mark in all their children.
Tonight, the Dark Lord's Mark will shine in the sky once more.
Tonight, the Darkness rises.
xxxxXxxxx
She smiles, wickedly and lovingly, bathed in red and green lights, like a vision of her Mother on a time gone by. Like her Father would be proud to see her.
She rendered them all useless with a simple potion.
Then she bound them.
Then she awakened them.
Serpents consume their prey alive, amidst deep suffering.
Some are babbling messes on the floor, hairs gone white and minds gone farther.
Some are oozing forms on the floor, surrounded by red pools that mingle.
All bear her mark. They all have wings now, carved into their flesh, deep and searing.
She left the Trio for last.
Her favourite so far had been her aunt, who was driven half mad at the sight of her dead sister's daughter, and completely mad at the knowledge of whom truly stood there, killing her precious Teddy. It wasn't the fear that drove her mad, it wasn't her wand either. It was the frothing rage at her own blood, again. Even after all this time. Always.
But these three, oh these she will enjoy, slowly, purposefully.
Potter is screaming his lungs out at the pain in his forehead. Always so easy to unhinge. She dug all the memories of his interactions with the Dark Lord, safe for the very last, and keeps charging his sanity with them.
Weasley is screaming his head off at the images that a Horcrux once showed him, which she keeps playing through his head, again and again, along with the last sight of his children.
But Granger is the one. She is screaming her very mind into oblivion at the pain of a thousand times marked word in her body, a word her Mother had left there. No other memories needed, just the repetition of that single act. The crimson tears on the fair skin are the prettiest sight.
She feasts for a long time, enjoying her darkness, nurturing her newly released skin.
She leaves the words of the Basilisk behind, has a white haired spectre that used to be Ginny write them with her own blood on a wall.
When she steps outside, the chill in the air is almost disappointing when compared with the terror inside.
On the sidewalk, she points her wand up and ushers her favourite word. One she reveres. One she misses dearly even though she never heard it. One that has come to mean Father, just like Crucio means Mother.
Morsmordre
How do you like the dark places my mind goes sometimes?