Losing Faith Book I
"I know people die. I hear about it everyday." - Penelope Clearwater
Chapter One : Poor Maiden
A young woman sits before a bay window, her hands folded neatly on her lap, simple white robes flowing from her slouched shoulders. Her eyes are dark brown, and ebony hair falls just past her pierced ears. Her jaw line is gentle and her frame thin; she appears to be in her mid-twenties, but the agonising years are slowly catching up with her.
The grounds of the castle--the central command centre of the Death Eaters--are covered with luxuriant grasses. The early morning sun peeks over the clouds as warm rays shine over the woman and into the small chamber. Once alive with books and potions and even a wondrous phoenix, the room now lies dull and empty, furnished only with an ornate chair in front of the window. She sighs as the door to the chambers is hastily opened and a man walks in.
His white-blond hair sways behind him as he walks forward, hands clasped over a staff of a silver serpent with a frozen ruby mouth. His robes are as black as night and are fastened at his neck with a grey clasp in the shape of a snake. The robes billow behind him, and his footsteps echo through the empty room.
"Where were you, Marie?" His voice is stern and hoarse, and age lines have begun to show around his ice grey eyes.
Marie Amitri slowly gives her attention to Lucius Malfoy. "I wasn't hungry," comes her soft reply. She turns away from the Lord and continues to stare out of the window onto the sun-lit grounds where a young male Death Eater backhands a dark-haired woman across her cheek.
The antique grandfather clock chimes ten, and Lucius strides closer.
"It does not matter if you are hungry or not. You are to be the perfect woman for the perfect leader. Is this within your comprehension?" He looks down at her and crosses his arms. "Your life is beneath my hand, Marie. Never forget that."
Marie remains silent as she places her hand on the window, the coolness of the glass more comforting than the words of this man. Sighing deeply, she forces herself to her feet, her robes trailing on the grey marble floor, her hand leaving a skeletal handprint on the fogged glass.
"I know, Lucius. I remember the time I was taken in by you. I understood then what I was, and it has never left me, my love." For the past three years she has been Lucius Malfoy's lady, although she had only loved him for one. It had happened so unexpectedly; she had never thought her father would allow it. But, after Lucius himself had murdered her father, things had changed. Marie's mother had given her only daughter to the Death Eater to save her own neck.
Five years before, when Marie had only been a seventh-year Ravenclaw in Hogwarts, Narcissa, Lucius's withdrawn, detached wife and mother of his heir, had taken gravely ill. She had died shortly afterwards, and a year later, Lucius's interests had grown in the young Marie.
"It will never leave you." Lucius smirks as he takes a confident step forward, his staff clanking on the floor. "I still remember when I first saw you with your father in Knockturn Alley. So beautiful and energetic." His voice is low and seductive, and he breathes from his mouth. Licking his lips, his eyes follow her curves to the floor and back up again. She is amazing to him, with her pronounced hips and slender waist, and very defined features. Grabbing her without warning around her upper arm, he jerks her closer and kisses her violently before quickly pulling away.
"Avery is waiting for me. Change and be sure to be in attendance for dinner. You resemble a whore, and no woman of mine will be seen dressed as a whore in the company of others." Lucius turns and leaves the chamber without another sound, except for his echoing footsteps.
Marie exhales and grimaces.
There was a clash of shattering glass close to her mother's head. Seventeen-year-old Marie stayed seated at the top of the marble staircase. She'd heard this music many times before, and she could never fall asleep when it played. She listened every night since she was young to her parents' arguments.
"I will not sell her into a life with no future, Tahirah!" Marie's loving father bellowed. His black hair fell just past his equally dark eyes, and his figure was lean; he had been a wonderful Quidditch Keeper for Ravenclaw during his days at Hogwarts, nearly twenty years ago.
His wife, who had married for convenience and money, gave him a contemptuous glance. She had darker skin, which contrasted her husband's. Her eyes were a rich almond, and her raven black hair fell straight. Her ancestry could be traced back to the time of the Pharaohs in Egypt, and her blood was pure in both respects.
"We--I will not let Lucius have her!"
"Then we die, fool! I did not come to this land to be killed by such a man! I can save myself by handing my daughter to him. He will protect her, and we will be safe!" Tahirah placed her hands over her slim hips, tilting her head to the side. She controlled this man; he usually submitted himself to her.
This, however, was not a matter on which he wanted to hold back. This was their daughter, his only daughter, and he loved her more than he did his cold-hearted wife.
"You think he will give her a better life?" he spat incredulously. "She's twenty years younger than he is. How could that be any better than what we can give? I have not sacrificed all I have and more to have her a Death Eater and Malfoy's sodding mistress."
Marie shudders at the memories as she opens a small heirloom box located beneath the chair. Placing the box on her lap, she leafs through old newspaper clippings and photos until one grabs her attention. It is dated August 31 of 1995--exactly four years ago to the day--and the headline reads: Jerrell Amitri Dies in Freak Magic Accident.
Lucius had murdered Jerrell, and Tahirah fled the country.
Marie doesn't want to think about where she would be if Lucius had not wanted her.