The Last Heiress: Anastasia
Chapter 2: Legacy of Evil
Author's note: Because the hell known as junior year in high school had begun for me and has kept me busy for weeks, I will be slow in updating this story and the others I have posted here. I am also thinking of posting my stories somewhere else, because of recent events that have happened here at fanfiction.net, which is also known as the NC-17 ban, or as I call it, censorship on a site that is supposedly giving writers of fanfiction some freedom to write whatever rating stories they like. And because I signed a petition to reverse the ban, I know that I am not the only one who's upset. Anyway, I have had this chapter written for weeks, but I've been so busy that I never found the time to type it. I'm really sorry. But here it is, the long awaited, much anticipated second chapter of "The Last Heiress: Anastasia." !
Love, kisses and blood,
Dark Goddess the Immortal
Looking back on the whole thing, I honestly wish that I'd have fainted or something instead of swallowing hard and turning paler than usual. Unable to speak, I simply found a chair and plopped myself down in it, shaking slightly.
Mother saw me and looked very concerned. "Anastasia," she began. "Are you alright? You look white."
My mouth felt unbelievably dry and I felt like I'd never utter another word as long as lived and breathed. So, I nodded.
"Hermione, how can you tell if she looks white?" Father asked, clearly irritated. "She ALWAYS looks white. She gets it from me."
"Draco, I know that already, I just happened to notice that she looks a lot whiter than she normally does. Can't you tell? Or are you too stupid to notice that your own child looks paler than she normally does?"
I sensed an interesting argument coming as Mother and Father began to bicker, but before they could really get into it, another voice, this one from the chair in front of the fire, interrupted them.
"Hermione, dear, turn this chair around." The voice said. It spoke in barely more than a whisper and it was icy cold . So cold, that it sent chills down my spine. " I want to get a look at my granddaughter."
Mother shut up instantly and whipped out her wand. She waved it and said a few choice words. The chair turned around slowly and I found myself staring at the face of my grandfather, Lord Voldemort.
I nearly died of fright.
If I could say on thing about seeing my maternal grandfather for the very first time, I would say this- no, wait, I wouldn't say a word. I'd scream. Which, at the time, was what I wanted to do along with running from the room. But, still mute, I stayed there, staring at the awful face, frozen in my chair, my eyes wide and face now chalk white.
Voldemort had colorless skin and scarlet, cat like eyes. He was dressed in black, and had dark hair. His fingers were long and spider- like and where his nose should be, there where two slits for nostrils. He reminded me of a snake and if a forked tongue had come out of his mouth, I would not have been surprised at all.
He smiled the sort of smile that reminded me of Father's father, Lucius when he got a look at me. "Ah," he said. "So this is my granddaughter, Anastasia Diane. She looks so much like her mother and her father. Of course, Hermione, she gets her beauty from you."
I felt some of the feeling return to my currently numb body and I smiled. Weakly. Then, I cleared my throat. "Why are you here?" I managed to choke out.
"Because, Anastasia, we have much to tell you before you go." Voldemort replied. "You must learn about the legacy of this family. Your mother's and your father's."
I was confused. "What kind of legacy?"
"A legacy of evil, Anastasia." Mother replied. "A legacy of evil."
"WHAT?!"
Chapter 2: Legacy of Evil
Author's note: Because the hell known as junior year in high school had begun for me and has kept me busy for weeks, I will be slow in updating this story and the others I have posted here. I am also thinking of posting my stories somewhere else, because of recent events that have happened here at fanfiction.net, which is also known as the NC-17 ban, or as I call it, censorship on a site that is supposedly giving writers of fanfiction some freedom to write whatever rating stories they like. And because I signed a petition to reverse the ban, I know that I am not the only one who's upset. Anyway, I have had this chapter written for weeks, but I've been so busy that I never found the time to type it. I'm really sorry. But here it is, the long awaited, much anticipated second chapter of "The Last Heiress: Anastasia." !
Love, kisses and blood,
Dark Goddess the Immortal
Looking back on the whole thing, I honestly wish that I'd have fainted or something instead of swallowing hard and turning paler than usual. Unable to speak, I simply found a chair and plopped myself down in it, shaking slightly.
Mother saw me and looked very concerned. "Anastasia," she began. "Are you alright? You look white."
My mouth felt unbelievably dry and I felt like I'd never utter another word as long as lived and breathed. So, I nodded.
"Hermione, how can you tell if she looks white?" Father asked, clearly irritated. "She ALWAYS looks white. She gets it from me."
"Draco, I know that already, I just happened to notice that she looks a lot whiter than she normally does. Can't you tell? Or are you too stupid to notice that your own child looks paler than she normally does?"
I sensed an interesting argument coming as Mother and Father began to bicker, but before they could really get into it, another voice, this one from the chair in front of the fire, interrupted them.
"Hermione, dear, turn this chair around." The voice said. It spoke in barely more than a whisper and it was icy cold . So cold, that it sent chills down my spine. " I want to get a look at my granddaughter."
Mother shut up instantly and whipped out her wand. She waved it and said a few choice words. The chair turned around slowly and I found myself staring at the face of my grandfather, Lord Voldemort.
I nearly died of fright.
If I could say on thing about seeing my maternal grandfather for the very first time, I would say this- no, wait, I wouldn't say a word. I'd scream. Which, at the time, was what I wanted to do along with running from the room. But, still mute, I stayed there, staring at the awful face, frozen in my chair, my eyes wide and face now chalk white.
Voldemort had colorless skin and scarlet, cat like eyes. He was dressed in black, and had dark hair. His fingers were long and spider- like and where his nose should be, there where two slits for nostrils. He reminded me of a snake and if a forked tongue had come out of his mouth, I would not have been surprised at all.
He smiled the sort of smile that reminded me of Father's father, Lucius when he got a look at me. "Ah," he said. "So this is my granddaughter, Anastasia Diane. She looks so much like her mother and her father. Of course, Hermione, she gets her beauty from you."
I felt some of the feeling return to my currently numb body and I smiled. Weakly. Then, I cleared my throat. "Why are you here?" I managed to choke out.
"Because, Anastasia, we have much to tell you before you go." Voldemort replied. "You must learn about the legacy of this family. Your mother's and your father's."
I was confused. "What kind of legacy?"
"A legacy of evil, Anastasia." Mother replied. "A legacy of evil."
"WHAT?!"