****TW: Blood, mutilation, death of a child, suicidal ideas****

This chapter is v dark! Do not read unless comfortable!

She felt numb as she walked the pathway to Professor Dumbledore's office. Her eyes were blank and her face studied the ground as she walked the long corridor. Aurelia could not seem to process what had happened. Logically, she knew- her father was dead, Harry hadn't spoken to her in weeks since... well the incident. And she was alone again. Lost in her thoughts, she hardly even processed that she had entered the Headmaster's office until she stood in front of him.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood across from her, smiling with those twinkling eyes, as always.

"I know this is hard," The old man said, "But you must continue on. I know that is exactly what Sirius would have wanted for you. Your mother as well."

He brought a wrinkled hand to her shoulder, and the witch's violet eyes quickly flew up to meet his.

"I'm afraid, my dear, that I must ask," Dumbledore smiled at her, "That you continue in your father's footsteps and allow Grimuald Place to be used as our headquarters, for the good of the Order."

Aurelia felt rage build within her. How dare he? She had done everything, everything, that they asked of her, all for the 'greater good', and yet somehow all she ever gained from doing so was loss and pain. She had been robbed of her family, of her reputation, of her life, and he still asked for more. He hadn't called her to his office to comfort a dear friend's daughter, no, he had called her to ensure that the newfound heiress would play to his own needs. She stared at the ground, unsure if she could continue her control as she looked up at the manipulative old man.

"I understand." She said, her voice sounding powerless as she fought her raging emotions. "I... I would like my grieving period, sir."

"I'm sorry?"

"My period of grief." She stared at her cold hands now. Had they always been this white and lifeless? Still, she pushed on to fight for some form of control over this situation before her. She blankly continued, refusing to look at him, "It is customary for the family of a deceased to have a short period alone to process their loss. I want it."

"Dear girl," He sighed, "I would love to allow this, but you must realize the stress and complexity required to hide the Order. Grimuald is the only place with the means to enable our safety."

"I do understand, sir." She ground her teeth a second, before continuing, "But, if you wish to reside in my house then I would like some time alone to remember my father. Even just a month sir, please."

Dumbledore sighed again, though this time it sounded like a huff. Like a child, upset that they did not get their way. "I suppose we could all use this time to... regroup. Would you be acceptable to 14 July, Miss Black?"

"Yes." Aurelia then made her way to leave, without another word. The Black didn't have the strength nor patience to deal with any more power plays. She didn't know what she had wanted, perhaps an apology, a checkup maybe, but she did not think he would be this selfish. She was hurt in a way she hadn't been before. Aurelia's mother and father had told her that if only she try, if only she give her best intentions and work her hardest to aid the good, everything will be alright. How wrong they were, as she had done it all and was only met with scorn, her pain and loneliness worsened at her every attempt to help.

Aurelia sank to the floor of the infamous Black Library, tears streamed down her face as she collapsed onto the hardwood. She had barricaded herself inside Grimuald Place in an attempt to use her period of grief to regroup and come to terms with everything. But it was all too much. It had only been four days. Four days since she had been orphaned, four days since she had been left alone, four days since she had lost everything.

The witch felt the pressure in the room increase as her emotions overtook her, her very body was shaking. She screamed, a raw, primal sound that escaped from her chest, letting out all of her pain, all of her sorrow and grief. She felt her magic burst from her body, shaking and displacing several other small items in the room, smashing a vase that sat on a discarded side table. The broken glass pieces flew outwards and a single shard found itself stuck into a book.

The dark-haired girl slowly rose from the ground, her attention suddenly fixated. The book that the shard had struck was on a shelf that had been deemed 'off-limits' by her father. He had told her that those books were filled with incredibly dark magic, which had corrupted so many of his ancestors and drove them into madness. She slowly walked towards them, and waving her hand across in front of the spines, she could feel the wards he had placed over the section.

"Kreacher!"

The old house-elf popped into the room, standing just beside his Mistress. He glared up at her, "What does Mistress Blood-traitor want?"

Something snapped within her, an anger that refused to be pushed down any longer, and Aurelia spun to face him in an instant. Whit one swift movement, the elf could feel her wand against its throat. The messy, dark strands of her hair fell forwards as she leaned down to hiss, "If you ever call me that again I will ensure that you have no place of work at any pure residence. You will be banned from this house and hold the shame of being unfit to serve the Noble House of Black!"

Kreacher nodded slowly as she removed her wand from his throat her wand and placed it back in her wild bun. He took a breath and bowed, "What may Kreacher do for Mistress Black?"

"Thank you," Aurelia said, taking a shuttering breath to regain her focus as she turned back to face the books she had been examining. "As Heir of House Black, I have ownership over all of this, yes?"

"Everything here, Mistress."

"Good. I command you to break my father's wards over them."

The elf's eyes widened, clearly shocked by the request, nay the order. He protested quickly, "Mistress, those is dark books, even Mistress Walburga did not dare read them."

"Do it." Aurelia's voice brokered no negotiation. Her word on this was final, and her previous threat still hung in the air.

Raising his wrinkled hand, Kreacher broke through the wards, allowing the witch to run her hand along the spines of the books as if admiring them. She smiled softly to herself as she plucked out one thick tome.

She threw her head back toward her house-elf just once as she made her way to a particularly comfortable armchair. Her tone changed completely, becoming light and sweet once again as she said, "Would you be so kind as to get me some tea, Kreacher? And adjust the fire? I do believe that I will be here for a while."

The house-elf nodded once more. "Yes, Mistress."

As she made herself comfortable in the old leather chair, her thoughts drifted back to the cause of her problems- Dumbledore, Potter, the entire bloody Order of the Pheonix. Aurelia decided then with a grin that she would not be used by anyone, ever again. So if they wanted to play a game, then a game she would give them. A real game of power, of winning. And Blacks never lose.

Aurelia pulled her cloak tighter over her long black curls as she made her way to her location, her luggage in tow. The small clearing was indeed surrounded by intimidating trees, just as depicted in her book, and was composed of a circular shape. The soft patter of rainfall was calming to her. She set her bag down on the grass and commanded her sacrifice forward, wondering why she had always feared using the Imperious Curse. She had chosen a muggle child, innocent, but like herself in some ways, per the book's instructions.

Pulling her wand from its holster, she slit the throat of her sacrifice with a simple letter-opening spell. It amused her how such an innocent charm could be used for such a thing. Her sacrifice fell, he was an orphan, much like herself. The witch felt the magic around her change, making the very air dense with more than just the moisture of the rain. This was the beginning, she knew, the call for magic itself to witness her trial and decide upon her destiny, to call forth any who challenge her request.

She continued nonetheless, moving the body to the left and positioning the child to lie peacefully before banishing him as her offering. She began to pull the items from her bag and set up her space. Aurelia felt his presence before she saw him. It was like a dark fog, looming around her, dense and foreboding.

"I thought it might be you," Aurelia said, continuing to check the candles and symbols around her. She had read quite a number of warnings forbidding any mistakes during the preparation of the ritual. After ensuring everything was in its place, she turned to him, taking a seat on the damp grass in the middle of her runic circle.

Her violet eyes studied him for a moment, allowing herself a deeper inspection of the dark wizard than her brief glance at the Ministry of Magic. Even leaning against a tree as he was, the witch could tell that he was quite tall, and the heiress thought that her head would hardly reach his shoulders. His skin was more than pale, it was almost white, and he seemed to have no hair anywhere about him, leaving his skin slightly mottled. His face held quite good bone structure, she surmised, but decided his eyes were the pinnacle; they were red, blood red, with slits as pupils. They captured her, but only for a moment before she realized and averted her gaze. His robes were pure black and looked to be made of quality material, flowing around him, and causing him to seem even more intimidating, if possible.

He watched her as if she were the mouse and he the cat, studying her as she did him. She suddenly bit her lip, realizing how this truly looked. Aurelia usually prided herself on her outlaying composition but knew that she had no such luck now. Her hair was pulled up hastily out of her face, curls flying about, and her face was puffy from crying, with dark circles beneath her amethyst eyes. Looking away in a bit of embarrassment, she called her blade to her hand, running a finger over the sharp edge as she readied herself for the pain of her 'markings'.

Just as the blade broke the skin of her calf, the Dark Lord decided to speak, his voice low and rich, "You are going to die, little witch."

Aurelia paused, watching the dark red blood drip down her leg, before dragging the blade in an upward curve continuing the first rune. Without looking up, she said, "I am prepared to take that risk."

"I saw you at the ministry," He said, watching her carve the runes into her skin. His voice glided smoothly and nonchalantly through the air around them. "Are you truly sure this will help your little order? My, my, what would Dumbledore say?"

"Frankly, "Aurelia hissed as she cut a bit deeper, "I could not care less. About the Order, or Dumbledore, or Harry bloody Potter."

"Well, consider me perplexed, darling."

She said nothing, it was fruitless. Instead, she decided to focus on her work. After a moment's silence, he said again, "You know, I am not known for patience. I could kill you now if you are eager for death."

"I thought that we had already established that I was ready for that." The dark-haired witch retorted as she took a break, lifting the knife to wipe away the blood and ensure the symbol's markings were correct. She then proceeded to pull up her sleeves, revealing her alabaster skin. Envisioning the runes necessary, she began to glide her blade once more. "And my name is Aurelia, Aurelia Black."

"Ah," he said, twirling his wand in his long fingers. "Another Black. How very enlightening... And, I suppose you were born to Walburga's blood-traitor?"

She scoffed, never once removing her eyes from her work. "Yep, that's me. The freakish daughter of the blood-traitorous, mass murderer, Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black. Although, my mum was a Selwyn, nothing special there."

The dark-haired witch then moved to pull two medium-sized mirrors from her bag. Setting them to the side, Aurelia took a breath, and after a moment's hesitation, pulled her dark sweater from her body, leaving the thin witch in only her plain black bra. She shivered from the cool air, aware of the goosebumps that were rising on her exposed pale skin, and quickly grasped her oak wand. It took her only a moment to set up her work, levitating the two mirrors -one in front of her and one behind, so that she was able to see the full expanse of her back- and then carefully levitated the knife behind her.

Just as the knife got closer to her skin, Voldemort's voice rang out once more, "That is incredibly stupid."

"Well, I don't trust myself to blindly carve my back," She bit out, ignoring the pain ringing out in her arms and legs. "This is the best solution I could come up with."

The blade pierced her skin and there was silence between the two, as Aurelia carved the symbols of power and legacy into her back. The silence was tense as she carved her stomach, etching the last of the symbols into her skin.

Aurelia was finished, putting the mirrors to the side. She wiped her bloody hands on her discarded sweater, darkening the thick material, before picking up her blade once more to clean and stow it away. Now, she reached to grab the offerings and other materials to add to her circle.

"If... If I do die," Aurelia stuttered just as bit, before holding herself upright. She straightened her back as she looked at the Dark Lord in his ruby eyes. "During this ritual, please, find some way to use it."

He simply cocked his head to the side, the pale wand in his hand ceasing its movements momentarily. "Explain."

"I mean..." She sighed before regaining her composure and standing straighter to look at him directly, she continued strongly, "I have been alongside them my entire life. They believe that I am some amenable little tool and have used me as such, so if I am to die, I don't want to be used anymore by them. In any way. They may try to make me into a martyr for their cause, and I don't want that. So, please, taunt them. Tell them they caused this, tell everyone how they treat those who attempt to help them. Please."

"Say no more, darling," Voldemort smirked as he looked her up and down. He raked his eyes over her maimed form, watching as blood dripped from her body and onto the grass. His voice was low and curious as he followed a particular trail of dark liquid flow down her leg, "You are growing increasingly interesting, witch. Tell me."

Aurelia rolled her eyes, returning to her work of spreading her offerings about the unkempt grass, "Tell you what?"

Her hands moved quickly, adding dragon's blood and unicorn hair trimmings to the circle around her. With each addition, the atmosphere surrounding her seemed to pulse, the ritual growing stronger.

"What exactly has made you turn? You asked me to use your actions against them, therefore it only makes sense that I should know how this came about."

She huffed a humorless laugh, her hands still moving. "They shamed my mother and left her alone to die. They set my father to rot in Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, even though Dumbledore knew he was innocent. They shunned me for being his daughter, for being a Black. Those three bloody Gryffindors constantly use me for my knowledge. They set Harry Potter and the precious Light before anything else. Moody caused my father to fall into the Veil and the Order turned a blind eye, pretending it was Bellatrix. And now, they are trying to take my house, it's all that I have left."

Aurelia sat up and whipped her head to him, eyes blazing with malice, "You choose a reason."

The Dark Lord said nothing, and she was almost thankful for that, as her physical energy was decreasing. It was probably the blood loss, she assumed; however, her magical core seemed to be flourishing. The rain was barely a sprinkling now and she continued her work in the silence. It did not go unnoticed by the little witch that the Dark Lord was starring her down as she worked, his eyes stayed on her with every movement. After only a few moments, she had finished.

"You forgot the virgin blood, Aurelia." His voice finally broke the silence as she moved to the center, preparing her statements. Her violet eyes snapped back to him, and she sarcastically waved a hand at her own dripping blood.

"No, I didn't."

He seemed to smirk at her statement, but she ignored it. Her focus had to be pristine in order for this to work. Pulling her wand from its place in her hair, she began to chant. Her voice was soft but powerful as the air around her grew dense, more so than she had ever felt before.

Aurelia stood in the middle of the circle, barely clothed in the clouded moonlight. She shook a bit in nervousness, but held her posture strong... she had to be strong.

Then the first nymph appeared, the figure was a mix between horror and beauty, with wide eyes and skin of an almost green hue. It spoke in a singsong tone, mere feet from her left side, "Who goes there seeking our power?"

Another stepped forward from nothing at her opposite side, it looked different and yet the same. Stunningly creepy. "Why are they here, upon this hour?"

The final nymph stood directly before her, waving its ghostly hand at her form. "Dripping in blood, they know the quest. Of blood and gore, it is glory they wish to request."

Aurelia kept her composure and spread her hands before her in offering. She could do this. "I am Aurelia Lillian Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and I stand before you of blood pure to ask for your blessing."

"The witch wants power, but does she have merit?"

"She wants our blessing, so says spirit."

"You must tell us your goals, your ambitions, and desires. Do you know the cost for what you wish to acquire?"

The three nymphs swayed, eyes never leaving her body as they moved a bit closer. They were inspecting her, she realized. Aurelia swallowed.

"My blood is pure and noble. Yet, I am being treated like scum. I want what I deserve, and I want to prove that I am not one to be molded to another's view. I want everyone who scorned me in this world on their knees, and I want to kill those who use me."

The nymphs snickered together, and Aurelia worried that she had royally missed her mark. "We want your wishes not only your goals."

She shifted in her position for only a moment. Closing her eyes, she thought of her pain, and growled out, "I want someone who will help me. I want people behind me and I want their support so that I may get the power and glory that is rightfully mine. I am tired of pretending to be someone I'm not only to receive nothing to my benefit. Something... something is pulling me to the dark, and it feels magnetic. I have let my body move, though I am honestly unsure where it is headed. I know I will achieve greatness, even though all of my senses have left me defenseless this darkness surrounding me is promising vengeance. The price I am willing to pay is expensive, but what is there to lose if I am lonely and friendless? So now, my only interest is showing the light that I am a Black through and through. I will always be superior to them, I will win and kill them all and my reign over this world will be endless!"

She ended her rant shouting and was met by silence. She knew this would only be a means to an end, that was why she had chosen to do it. The nymphs before her would be able to judge whether she was worthy enough to ensure her revenge was fulfilled, or she would die trying. Her wand was loose in her hand as she stood staring and waiting for the beings to decide her fate.

"Promises of retribution this one has given."

"Through vengeance though her pain is driven."

"These promises, promises, we will endorse. Through years we've seen pain as a promising source."

Aurelia shook, unsure of their meaning as they suddenly stepped closer to her, so close they could reach out and touch her exposed skin with their strange limbs. Their voices raised in chants, the malformed hands coming in front of the small framed witch. She was overwhelmed by the power they pushed into her very core, the Black's mouth opened in a silent scream as it entered through her self-inflicted wounds. It both tore her apart and mended her together at one. It was exhilarating.

"We gift her power, from now until her fall. Magicae vires damus, utere bene. Tenebrae te facient omnia, quae opus est."

As suddenly as they came, the nymphs disappeared, leaving the witch gasping on her knees in the midst of the now bare grass. Her offerings were gone, everything that she had brought with her now vanished, leaving her only clutching her wand, but what was left within her was far better than she could ever imagine. The ancient magic coursed through her veins, binding to her very core and entering her soul. Power... dark and maliciously strong magic.

Aurelia flexed her fingers and examined her wand as she flexed her body, the pain from her cuts insignificant now. Her purple eyes roamed over the once ash-colored wood, it had turned to a dark oak color as her newly adapted core corrupted it. She laughed victoriously, incredulously, lifting her wand to the air. Her laughs turned to hysterical giggles as she remembered the Dark Lord standing just yards away. She turned quickly towards him.

"I did it!" She exclaimed through her mad giggles. "It's finally my turn." She now faced Voldemort, who was standing upright, disregarding his comfortable position leaning against the trees, ruby eyes narrowed at her. She pointed her finger at him and smiled evilly, "If they want the Blacks to be villains, I will be the one they have never seen. I'll show them what it means to be dark and cruel. If I cannot be as good as them, I am going to show them something so..."

Her vision blurred and the trees spun around her abruptly. Aurelia's voice wavered, and as the world spun around her she managed to get out, "So much... worse..."

She fainted, the blood loss taking over, but she did not hit the ground. Her last thought was that perhaps something had softened her fall. All she saw as the endless darkness of sleep overtook her, were deep red eyes.

Ummmmm. Yeah.

So that is probably the longest chapter I have posted as of yet, and I personally really like it. This story has literally been on my mind for over a year now. I know it is dark, but the story gets pretty romantic in a few chapters. Once again- THIS IS A DARK STORY. Please don't read unless you are comfortable. (But I do think this is as gory and triggering as it gets)

Translation for the nymphs: Strength in magic we give, use it well. Darkness will bring thee everything you need.(If something is wrong with the Latin, blame google translate, not me lol)

Please review! I always love to hear from you guys. And as always, Love ya'll!

-ijustlovelove