Fallen Angel.
Chapter One:
The Dream.
"Ma'am please! NO! Oh God, please don't kill me!"
Her brown eyes flashed over the pathetic man lying on the floor in front of her, his blood covered hands which only an hour before had been aiming the Killing Curse at a traitorous family, were covering his face now, shielding his eyes that she knew were wild within pain and terror. She didn't begrudge him being terrified; she knew he had a right too. She was powerful and merciless, knew she was an awesome sight when angry.
Keeping her voice level and low enough so that the man in front of her strained to hear her words she said, "I have every right in this world to kill you, Flint, and you know that. But I am a reasonable person so for now I shall forget that you didn't complete a job I specifically ordered you to-"
Marcus Flint, an old schoolmate of hers, threw himself at her feet and began to kiss her shoes. "Oh thank you, thank you, my lady, you do not know-"
Ignoring his outburst she continued with her speech. "Although I tell you I shall forget it that means little. I am telling you know that if you disobey me or manipulate my orders- if I find you are a traitor to the Order especially- I will not be so generous. Remember that, Flint."
Flint raised his granite grey eyes to her face and almost smiled although she knew the gash on his cheek from her Cruciatus curse prevented him form doing little more than slurring his speech.
"I will remember that, ma'am I swear I will. And I won't disobey you ever again."
"I know you won't, Flint. But just in case."
As she left the cold, damp, circular room in which she had finally found Flint she aimed the Cruciatus curse once more over her shoulder at the man she had despised in Hogwarts and the man she continued to despise now. But the Dark Lady needs followers and Flint was normally obedient.
She could almost guarantee that Flint had no idea who she was and she was glad that he was so stupid. No-one inside her inner circle knew her identity and she was pretty sure the Order didn't. They wouldn't have kept it out of the papers surely. Hermione Granger the Dark Lady? No they would not have kept that out of the Daily Prophet. They wouldn't have been able to keep that away from Rita Skeeter; she knew that from personal experience. How glad she was to know that were Tom Riddle had failed she had succeeded. Harry Potter did not know her identity and he would not until she wanted him to.
Harry Potter sat bolt up right in bed, his eyes wide and perspiration dripping from his forehead and down his back, making his skin stick to the sheets. His hands shook so badly that he barely managed to lift his glasses of his bedside table never mind put them on. Shaking his head he stumbled out of bed and into the kitchenette of his small apartment and flicked the kettle on.
Coffee always cleared his head and made him think straighter and judging by what he had just seen he would need it. The dream had started normally really. Just your average run-of-the-mill flying on an enchanted piano dream until he had seen an old classmate, Marcus Flint cowering on top of the piano and then it had changed. Harry had found himself in a circular room and the only people in the room appeared to be Flint and himself- until a voice came from behind him and Harry had seen her- the Dark Lady. A figure that was only roughly five foot seven and slim one that didn't seem threatening at all until she spoke. Her voice had been low and level, always strangely calm and when the voice didn't speak the room seemed deathly quite although Harry had heard Flint speak. Just as Flint's voce had been familiar he knew the voice of the Dark Lady. From school, he knew that and someone he must have spoken to a few times as no-one spoke as the Dark Lady had been speaking then without reason to.
God, it was so confusing. He had graduated from Hogwarts (having been forced to go back during seventh year due to circumstances in Dumbledore's will) only five years ago and he couldn't remember a voice he must have heard almost daily? His memory must be worse than he thought. However, coffee would help. Coffee always helped.
"So what you're saying is we know here?" Ron asked, incredulously. He was leaning against the fireplace in Harry's apartment and around him were the same people who normally attended these meetings; Ginny Weasly, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Arthur and Molly Weasly and Harry, of course.
Harry raised his exasperated face to Ron's again. "Yes, Ron, that's what I'm saying. We know her- we knew her at least."
"So it could be anyone even I dunno Gabrielle?"
"Who?" Draco interrupted, his icy blue eyes scanning Harry's apartment as they did everytime he visited it.
"Fleur's sister, she came to Hogwarts for a while," Harry said his eyes still on Ron, "but even though we knew her it couldn't have been her. As I've said before I'm sure I knew her voice and that meant I probably would have heard it daily. We probably would have heard it daily."
For a moment no-one made a sound and Harry's head raced. He had spent three hours looking through his memories, the Pensieve coming in handy a few times, and he was almost sure he knew who it was. But there was no way he was going to tell Ron that he suspected Ginny. He would have to figure it out for himself.
Finally Ginny broke the silence and said, "For Merlin's sake, Harry, you can't expect us to know what you are talking about. Show us the memory. We might be able to help."
Harry looked at the girl he had once loved and almost sneered. For five years Ginny and he had been slipping further away from each other but he had never thought that she might have betrayed him- betrayed them all like that. But he didn't say that. Instead he just agreed with her and extracted the memory and let everyone view the dream.
Draco Malfoy had never arrived at conclusions logically or after a lot of investigating it had always been by using his gut instinct. And the minute he saw Harry's dream his gut told him to hurl. Surely it couldn't have been her? Surely they wouldn't have let her take over? He knew that the Dark Lord had disappeared but the new leader had to have earned the right o be called that.
How could a Mudblood do that? Especially that Mudblood, she had never willingly killed a fly because she felt like it. She had been for the side of the greater good before she had vanished. Hadn't she?
So granddad said that Ruth was useless
And Ruth said no she wasn't granddad was lol