THE LEGEND OF THE DARK DESPAIR

Hey there, it's your story-hopping fanfiction writer here! This story, as far-fetched and crazy as it might seem, deals with this question: how would Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, feel about a witch dubbed "The Dark Despair?" Meet Ravenna, a witch with incredible powers – powers so incredible that Gellert Grindelwald wants to capture her, the Ministry of Magic wants to suck the soul out of her…and every pure-blood family with sons wants her to join their ranks.

Of course, I do not own any part or parcel of the Harry Potter or Fantastic Beasts franchises, but this story will span both time-frames. Same goes for the upcoming Voldemort: Origins of the Heir fan-film, which helped spawn this idea. I would also like to thank my friend Anna, whose character, Vinsde Marin, formed the basis for Ravenna.

Enough jabbering. Let's get to it!

PROLOUGE – THE RAVEN AND THE SNAKE

A.D. 999

Somewhere in Great Britain

Morgana Le Fay, the enemy of Merlin, was dying.

She was lying on a lovely cot on a cold winter day, but neither the warmth of the fire in the hearth nor the blanket on her cot could keep her warm. She shivered now, as she lay near death, more than she ever had before.

Morgana was not afraid to die – such a thing was inevitable even for a witch of her caliber – but deep down within her, she could feel something stirring. Something like…a message.

A message of doom. Morgana knew, even if it was just a final gasp before death claimed her, that she had to tell it. The aged witch gathered up her breath and gave a weak, whisper like cry:

"Lyssa, come to me!"

Morgana could hear the swishing of petticoats as Lyssa, a Squib, ran to her mistress's bedside. The old witch could hear the sound of the Squib's revulsion as the servant gazed on the face of Morgana, one of the greatest Dark witches of her age. However, time had not been kind to the old witch – her face was covered in wrinkles, her hair was limp and gray, and her eyes were dim.

"Yes, my mistress?" Lyssa asked.

Morgana tried to speak of her own will, but just as she opened her mouth, the powers of the Seer took hold of her one last time:

"The bloodline of Salazar Slytherin…shall be purified before it dies," she began. "It's final great prince…shall rise from Slytherin's ashes…and he shall take unto himself a dark visage of despair. This despair shall be conceived of magic alone, never to die…and she shall be marked with the wings of a raven. On the wings of despair shall Slytherin's heir be borne…and should he ever…fall…the world shall fall with him. Beware…THE DARK DESPAIR…BEWARE…BEWARE!"

Lyssa was terrified and shaking as the prophecy concluded…but before she could ask the old crone what any of it meant, Morgana's head had lolled to one side.

She was dead.