A/N: So in the first chapter, we see the beginning of the corruption of a little girl, the little girl who grew into my dark lady. It's starting out a bit slow to build up her character, why she became powerful and how she built her army, more about her background and a bit of insight into her mind. A Hufflepuff doesn't really have dark thoughts or explicitly dark, but I imagine a Hufflepuff Dark Lady would at least have dark moments, dark enough to drive her mad at times. But then she would come back and rethink her actions.
Her interactions with the golden trio will come up in later chapters, maybe even the next but we'll see. Draco's involvement will follow some time after.
Also, I stole the Centaur's name from Eragon if anyone noticed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. And as always: RxR. FxF.
Chapter 2 - The Creatures Around Us
She retreated into her room afterwards. There was no more business for her to attend to today. Her counsellors could oversee the outstanding issues that plague her organization. Someone would have to out and visit the settlements and also to fix the wards, someone else would have to tend to the farms and the factories, but she would definitely have to visit the potions lab on her own. Some other time maybe.
Her living space was plain with minimal furniture but very lived in. She prided herself on efficiency. Everything was just the right amount and never overboard. The only thing that was more than enough, though she never thought of it that way, were her plants. There was a door to the side that led to her own private gardens, practically overflowing with a myriad of plants, ranging from the exotic to the mundane, muggle and magical alike. She understood plants better than she understood people, though her understanding of people had improved over the years.
She walked past the glass doors to the outside without a passing glance. There would be no gardening today. She just wanted to be by herself for awhile. Shedding her gold dress and removing the chain around her head, she moved slowly around the room in her long, modest undergarments. She stopped before the window and gazed out, knowing no one could see her like this. She often did this after she exited her parlour room. She had to distance herself from the events that unfolded in there. But then it was just her and her thoughts and she was forced to listen to herself: Did the ends justify the means? She asked herself this question almost every time. Did the death and torture of purebloods really remove the prejudice they had against her kind? Did their pain really equal the pain her parents had gone through, the pain and scorn she had gone through, the disgraceful and degrading treatment her kind had gone through for centuries at the purebloods' hands? Sometimes a 'yes' practically screamed out the answer, with no purebloods, then no one would be able to degrade anyone. But on days like today, it was less powerful and doubt would creep into her mind. Was there a better way to go about doing something like this?
There was a light knock on the door pulled her away from the window and she took her time donning her light robe to cover herself. This was her place of safety and comfort and damned be anyone who wanted to disturb her or make her who she wasn't. She called the person into the room and was surprised to find it was one of her counsellors. Only those who were close to her would ever think to enter her quarters, much less her bedroom. A smile instantly adorned her face. "Peter, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Peter had been one of the first people to believe in her cause. Peter had been just like her and his past was almost as dark. But like her, he had saved himself, brought himself out of that darkness and was standing before her. But something was off today. His face was set in a hard line and his eyes held no warmth, effectively wiping the smile off her face. This was important. She mirrored his expression and stood up straight. "Is something amiss?"
"There is someone here who wishes to see you," he said. With how tight-lipped and crisp his tone was, she noticed the urgency of this meeting. She nodded before he stepped out of her room to give some privacy. She moved to her closet and pulled out a long, simple, brown gown and quickly slipped it on, before allowing Peter to take her to her guest. Peter gave her more details about her guest and she grew more wary with every step. But once outside the large doors of her study, she composed herself into the epitome of calm and collected. Guards stood to the sides of the doors, their expressions matching Peter's. She nodded at them as she walked inside.
The window had been opened in her absence, letting a soft breeze move through the room. A figure was standing near the open window, gazing out at the vast forest beyond. He had a cold, distrusting expression on his face but he soon adopted one of indifference as he heard her step into the room. He probably heard even as she was walking down the long hallway. Centaurs were known for their acute hearing.
She also understood Peter's attitude now, she understood the looks on the guards' face outside. Centaurs were not one to change plans. Centaurs were methodical and exact, planners who mapped everything from the stars years in advance to the last second and degree. Whatever reason he had to deviate had the potential to be very dangerous if his expression was anything to go off.
She walked calmly towards the tea set that had been set in the room for her and her guest. "Murtagh, I thought our meeting was scheduled for next week Wednesday. What urgent matter has come up that you would see me sooner?" She held a cup of steaming jasmine tea out to him.
He spoke to her levelly, ignoring the cup in her hand. "There has been attack on my herd yesterday, the third in only this month. Many of our young foals have been captured. We know what they do to them. They are skinned to make clothing and sold as meat and ingredients for potions. We cannot stand by any longer. We look to you for protection against these poachers."
She replaced the cup on the tea set. She hadn't expected to him to accept the cup anyway. It would definitely have been surprising if he had. She approached him, her hands clasped in front of her and made herself as small as possible. She did not want to startle him. "You do know that the price of my protection is allegiance to me. You must fight in my army, fight for my cause, when called upon. No matter the time, no matter the cost."
He nodded coldly, "I have already weighed the consequences. We cannot afford another meaningless slaughter of our innocents."
Her gaze hardened and he had the sense to step back from her. "You must fully understand what this alliance would mean, Murtagh. You are pledging you and your herd's loyalty to me in one final sweep. This contract cannot be broken for any reason. Even if I should ask you to slaughter the whole herd, you would be required to do so. Are you sure you want to do something like this?"
He took another step back, his hooves clacking on the wooden floor as he stepped off the soft rug in the middle of the room. His eyes flashed with fury, his facade falling. He huffed and said loudly, "You would force me kill my herd, my family?"
She stepped away from him and watched his subtle movements. Centaurs were also known to be very short-tempered and she may have already lit the fuse on this ticking time bomb. But she had to make sure he understood what he was getting into. She would never trick someone into joining her. "I try to avoid conflicts, so it should never come to something like that dire. But if I place you on the frontlines, you must be ready to die for me. If you are captured, you must be prepared to protect my interests at all costs. And if it is pertinent that I must remove the lot of you, you must obey without question whatever the means. Is my protection worth the potential death of your herd?"
There was strangled noise in his throat as he gawked at her. Images of his herd's dead bodies on the forest floor flashed in his mind. She couldn't be serious. "I am dead serious." The centaur froze. Centaurs were masters of the mind as much as they were masters of the stars. They learnt to read body language and thoughts before all else and even the youngest foal knew how to fend off mental attacks. As the leader of his herd, he was easily the most skilled, his mind always warded subconsciously, but he realized now that he had grossly underestimated the woman before him. This woman, petite, soft-spoken, kindness that radiated off her in waves who continued to smile at him, despite the harsh words she had just said, had slipped past his defences so seamlessly, he had no idea if she was currently still within them.
If she was, she said nothing about it. But her eyes still pierced him. She spoke slowly and clearly, "Murtagh, I need your answer now. If this is as urgent as you say, then you must decide quickly. Will you place your loyalty in my hands? I prize loyalty above all else."
He swallowed hard and the image of his dead family flashed again. But there was also the fresh image of those foals that were captured. He could not allow those monsters to kill his herd, no matter how steep this price seemed. He could not allow his own children to become coats and meals for those wizards who thought themselves above others. He needed her protection.
He bent low on his front hooves before her, his head down. If he had his quiver and bow, he would have crossed it over his chest, a sign of loyalty within his herd. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her smile but her kind eyes had flashed with a possessive, sickeningly gleeful look for just a moment. There was something underneath that face and Murtagh wondered if he had done the right thing.
Then she gestured to him and he rose off the floor. The steaming cup was offered to him once more. "Lovely, Murtagh. I will call Peter to draft the agreement. And you will attend a fealty ceremony next Wednesday. It had already been planned for the day of your intended visit. Please be punctual and bring your own advisors and counsellors if you'd like. We will hash out the details of the protection then."
He accepted the tea cup now which felt much heavier than it actually appeared. Her eyes never left him as she chatted amicably about other matters, though her smile now reached them. It was as if everything that was said had all been a dream.
Lucille had learnt of the merits of creatures, human-like and otherwise, long ago and how it important relations between species were. Even when she had her perfect life, she had an affinity for animals. She had befriended all the neighbours' pets, even the strays would run up to her and nuzzle her hands. She never really understood this pull she had on the animals but she did not question it. They loved her and she loved them.
Animals were easy to understand, their emotions were simple. They felt happiness, they felt love and they felt loyalty. They could also feel sadness, depression and pain she found out. She would see how others would treat these animals, as if they were lower than thou. And she could not stand every time she saw such injustice. Later in life, she would liken their disdain to that shown to her and she related these animals' plight. She had been an animal in those people's eyes, even less than an animal. A mudblood. A dirty blooded witch. She would change their minds of animals, she would change their mind of others.
She found out that creatures were strong and very powerful. Even the smallest creature had defensive and offensive mechanisms and strategies they used to subdue their predators and their prey. And she knew that having these creatures on her side would be beneficial. The purebloods were too stupid and prejudiced to understand the power they foolishly taunted and tortured. Too blind to realize an abused animal would eventual lashed out at the abuser.
There had been a specific incident when she realized a creature's true abilities. Lucille was at Hogwarts, hanging near the edge of Forbidden Forest. Her school shirt was muddy and her socks rolled down as she crouched near the base of a tree. She had been visiting the small spiders that ventured this close to the school. They crawled around her, tickling her fingers and eating the bugs she had dug up near the bank of the Black Lake. These young acromantulas were naive and did not know the dangers of humans yet. Or maybe they did but ignored their parents warnings. She giggled at the thought of disobedient acromantula teenagers. If it meant they were her friends, so be it.
There were footsteps behind her and she turned to greet the newcomers with a smile. She always had a pleasant look on her face, always wanting to show the best of herself to others. Then her smile fell when she noticed their uniforms. Three Slytherin boys stood before, cocky smiles on their faces, their long strides grinding to a stop in front of her. They stood straight-backed and looked down at her from their noses. Their clothes were impeccable, making a silently mockery of her own dishevelled appearance.
"Look at this little Puff hanging out by the trees. Aren't you scared of an animal coming making a morsel out of you."
His friends guffawed and one thumped the boy who spoke first on the upper arm. "Thaddeus, not even a creature of the forest would want a mudblood for dinner. Probably upset their stomach."
They laughed together, their strong voices almost melodious with delight, and she shrunk away from them. She looked around the grounds and she noticed she was the only one out here, her and these boys. They looked like 5th years and they would easily hurt a small first year. She placed foot behind the other, inching backwards slowly. She wanted to disappear within the trees and out of sight. But then they suddenly pulled their wands on her. "Where do you think you're going, you little Puff?"
She closed her eyes as she waited for their curses. She was used to this, but usually she was cornered in an empty hallway. Not outside. Not with her animals.
And then there was screaming. The baby acromantulas had jumped from the ground and onto the Slytherins' faces. The boys clawed at their faces, throwing the spiders to the side. But the spiders took this opportunity to crawl into their open mouths, while others crawled up their legs. Then all the spiders sank their fangs into flesh at once depositing their poison in the boys' veins. The boys fell as her feet, their mouths frothing as they convulsed on the grass. They no longer looked prestigious. More like dirty. And as calm as ever, the acromantulas retreated from the boys' bodies and climbed up her own legs, nuzzling her softly. She petted each one, smiling at them, and then ran back to the castle, leaving the boys behind.
Now those boys didn't die. Young acromantula poison isn't deadly but they had spent a few weeks in the hospital wing as the nurse waited for the poison to leave their system. When they were released, she never met them again, in the halls, on the grounds, in the Great Hall. They never spoke to her and she assumed they never told anyone. What would they say? They were mocking a little Hufflepuff girl and little spiders attacked them. They themselves would be mocked and one thing Slytherins were were proud, self-preserving cowards. They would never make themselves the butt of a joke and they would never offer helpful information to another, not even on their kind. They were not loyal and that justified the smug feeling Lucille felt every time she thought back to that moment.