Summary: Scarlett Potter vanquished Voldemort and won the war, but felt dead inside ever since. After being murdered by muggles, she finds out what the title of Mistress of Death really means and uncovers the many benefits that come with it. Starting again in a Universe where Grindelwald is the Dark Lord that killed her parents, what will Scarlett do differently?
Pairings: TMR/Fem!HP
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Some scenes were inspired by other writers... if anything has been done before I most likely have gotten my ideas from there.
Warnings: Torture, murder and violence.
A/N: Thank you to RacySturdivant. Your comment inspired the idea for the ending of this chapter!
Part 2 - Chapter 4
Nicholas had been disappointed but not overly surprised when he'd received yet another letter rejecting his application to join the Headless Hunt. Half an inch of skin, that was all that connected his head to his neck. Most people would think that's as good as being beheaded, but not Patrick. Oh, no, Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore only accepted ghosts whose heads have completely parted company with their bodies. Ridiculous.
Scarlett had been the one to find him moping as he glumly floated through the corridors. Her company alone had been enough to cheer him up, but he'd been ecstatic when she had also agreed to attend his five-hundredth Deathday Party.
"Of course I'd love to come, Nick" she'd said, squeezing his hand.
He couldn't wait to see Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore's face when he met Scarlett. Maybe she'd be able to convince the ghost to let him join the Headless Hunt…
Nicholas had secured the biggest room in the dungeons for his party and his friends had come from all over the country to celebrate him. Rumours of the Girl-Who-Lived being able to touch ghosts had spread amongst the ghost community; however, it was one thing to hear about the girl who was touched by Death, but it was a whole other thing to actually be in her presence.
Unsurprisingly, Scarlett had caused a stir as soon as she'd entered the room accompanied by her newest little friend, Luna if Nicholas was not mistaken. The two girls had chosen to forgo their school uniforms and instead were wearing floor length gowns. Scarlett's in particular made her look older than her 12 years of age, its daring blood red colour making her stand out even more amongst the translucent bodies of the ghosts.
Those who had never been in Scarlett's presence had been powerless to resist the lure of her magic, almost making the air vibrate with their excitement as they circled the girl. Nicholas was amused to note that the Bloody Baron, as possessive of Scarlett as always, had been glowering at anyone who dared to venture too close to the girl. By the amused glances that Luna kept sending the two, she seemed to find his behaviour just as funny.
Nicholas hadn't know that Scarlett would be bringing a friend so he had only asked for one seat to be brought into the room; however, Luna hadn't seemed the least surprised, motioning for her friend to take a seat with a knowing smile. Scarlett had just shrugged, gracefully arranging herself on the chair. Looking at her now, lounging on the only seat in the room as if it were a throne, the Baron standing guard on one side and her friend casually leaning on the other, the remaining ghosts fighting over each other to get near her, Scarlett looked like a queen observing her fawning subjects.
But tonight was Nicholas' night and all of her attention was focused on him.
"Happy Deathday Nick!" she exclaimed brightly when he drifted towards her through the crowd. "Enjoying yourself?"
"I am! Especially now that my guest of honour has arrived" he said proudly. "And it's not been a bad turnout overall. The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent!"
"I'm not surprised." Scarlett smiled warmly. "No one in their right mind would want to miss your party!"
If Nicholas could have blushed he would have.
"Now, I think the deathday boy should give a speech, don't you?" She said mischievously.
Before Nicholas could so much as nod, a hunting horn sounded and everyone, including the orchestra, fell silent.
"Here we go" he grumbled, annoyed that even Scarlett looked intrigued to find out what was going on, his speech seemingly forgotten.
A dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless rider, burst into the room. The crowd clapped excitedly and Nicholas couldn't bring himself to look at Scarlett's undoubtably wowed reaction to the performance.
The horses galloped into the room, circling the crowd twice before coming to an abrupt stop. Sir Patrick, leading the group as usual, leapt down from his horse and strode towards them, putting his head back on his neck as if it were a hat. He glanced curiously at Scarlett and then turned towards Nicholas.
"How are you Nick? Head still hanging in there?" He guffawed loudly, glancing at Scarlett for approval. "Might I ask who this beautiful young lady is?"
"Patrick," Nicholas said stiffly. "Welcome. This is my friend, Scarlett Potter."
"I didn't know you had living friends!" Patrick gave a fake jump of astonishment, making his head fall off and the crowd roar with laughter.
"Yes, very funny" Nicholas muttered darkly.
"Ignore Nick!" Patrick shouted from the floor, not even bothering to pick up his head. "He's still upset we won't let him join the Hunt. But look at him!"
Nicholas looked down, ashamed. If only that little bit of skin had been cut off. Forty-five times. That's how many times he'd been hit in the neck with a blunt axe and yet his executioner hadn't managed to fully sever his head from his body. A tiny bit of useless skin, that's all that was stopping him from being part of a community of like-minded, headless ghosts.
"Patrick, was it?" Nicholas' head snapped up at Scarlett's deceptively soft voice.
"Yes, my dear?" Patrick's headless body leaned in eagerly.
"I think it's time for me to give Nick his present and your head is in my way."
Nicholas would forever treasure Patrick's shocked and insulted expression. That would have been enough of a gift, but he couldn't say that he wasn't intrigued to find out what Scarlett might have gotten him. There isn't much you can get a ghost after all.
Standing up, Scarlett prowled forward until she was standing right in front of him.
"Nick, my friend," she smirked. "I would like to chop off your head."
Nicholas was convinced that he must have misheard. Was that even possible?
"Chop off my head?" He repeated slowly, feeling the hundreds of eyes focused on them.
"Yes. Would you like me to?" She asked him.
Trying to squash his rising hope in case whatever she was about to do wouldn't work, Nicholas nodded.
Scarlett grinned and a long dagger suddenly appeared in her hand. She briefly closed her eyes and when she opened them again, black magic started pouring from her fingers, covering the weapon and then continuing to grow, writhing as it lengthened and shaped itself into a flickering, black sword. All of the ghosts were able to recognise the magic that Scarlett was so easily wielding. It was Death's magic and she'd somehow mastered it.
"Kneel" she commanded, her voice echoing with the power she was harnessing.
Nicholas sank to his knees without hesitation. She raised the sword, brought it to his neck and paused, giving him one last chance to change his mind. Nicholas let her see the hope in his eyes and she nodded once before striking.
It happened so quickly that he didn't even feel anything. One moment he was looking up at Scarlett and the next all he could see was the hem of her dress. Unlike his first beheading, it had been a clean swipe and his head had rolled right off. He couldn't believe it.
Picking up his head and placing it back on his body, Nicholas once again knelt for Scarlett. Anyone capable of what she had just achieved deserved to be revered. He looked up at her gasp. One by one the other ghosts followed his lead, falling to their knees in front of a being of higher power.
Luna was the last to kneel.
"One day ghost won't be the only ones to bow to you" she murmured quietly, her gaze unfocused as she stared into the distance. "One day everyone will bow."
Scarlett laughed, the magic having retreated so that only her usual obscured aura could be felt.
"There is no need to be so dramatic" she rolled her eyes, but Nicholas could see the pleased tilt to her lips. "Do rise, my ghostly friends. This is a party after all!"
However, before Patrick had a chance to stand up, she gripped his hair, turning his head so that she could look into his eyes.
"I think we can all agree that Nick will now make a great addition to the Headless Hunt, can't we?" She asked threateningly.
"Yes, my Lady" his reply was immediate.
"Good boy." Scarlett unceremoniously dropped his head to the floor and retuned to her seat. "I think now would be a great time for that speech, don't you Nick?"
As Nicholas turned to speak to the now attentive crowd, he knew one thing for certain. He would enjoy existing in a world ruled by Scarlett Potter.
Taking a page out of Voldemort's book, Scarlett had decided that Halloween would be the perfect day to introduce Lady Hela's might to the world. So, at the same time that Scarlett was attending Nick's Deathday Party, Lady Hela appeared on the outskirts of a small muggle village that would one day become one of the first bases for experimentations on magical beings.
Hela walked through the quiet streets taking a moment to look around. It was unbelievable how little would change in the future. Everything looked almost exactly the same as she remembered it, minus the pain filled screams of her dying brethren. Things would be different this time. She'd make sure if it.
Tightening her Occlumency shields to keep out the unwanted memories, Hela took a deep breath and completely freed her magic.
"Death?" she called, her voice soft and melodic.
"You called, my Lady?" Death immediately appeared in front of her, bowing dramatically.
"I'm about to let loose a little" she motioned towards the sleeping village. "Would you like to watch?"
Death cackled loudly.
"Mistress, you are too kind" it said, sinking into the darkness and becoming one with her shadow.
Hela shook her head fondly and raised her cherry and willow wand, creating a strong shield preventing anyone from entering or leaving the area. She would hate to be interrupted before she finished having her fun.
With a flick of her wand the two nearest houses burst into flames. Another flick and the wind started picking up around her, helping to grow and spread the fire. Hela sat on a bench in the very centre of the village, the calm in the middle of a fiery hurricane that raged outwards, destroying everything in its path.
Panicked shouting and terrified screaming was all that could be heard as the muggles tried and failed to evacuate the area. Hela was sure that the grin she was sporting looked absolutely demonic.
When the last of the screams died out, Hela started to reign in her magic, coaxing the wind and flames to dissipate. Aside from the bench that she had been sitting on, nothing was left of the little village, it had been completely razed to the ground. Hela raised her wand again.
"Florem mortis" she shouted, channeling each death into her spell.
Soon the whole village was covered by her beautiful, life-sucking, blood red flowers. No one would be able to so much as approach without falling victim to her creations' power. Only death awaited those who tried to get in her way.
MUGGLE VILLAGE GONE - USE OF MAGIC SUSPECTED
A small muggle village was completely destroyed yesterday evening. Where there had once been a bustling community, now only blood red flowers grow. Muggle authorities tried to approach the area to investigate the sudden disappearance of over one hundred people only to be killed as soon as they neared the flowers.
Two Aurors have also fallen victim to the flowers, which have been named Flores Sanguis. So far, all of the Ministry's attempts at removing them have failed and officials are urging the public to come forward with any information they might have about a flower with a black stem and blood red petals…
Scarlett hid a smug grin as she looked at the picture of her handiwork. She wondered what the Minstry's attempts had entailed. No doubt it would have been amusing to see their expression when nothing they tried worked. Her flowers were created from the essence of death and could not be destroyed. After all you can't kill something that is already dead.
Glancing at the Head Table, Scarlett was amused to note Riddle's frown as he read the article. She wondered what he thought of the fact that whoever had gifted him his flower had also decimated an entire village. Probably nothing good.
Meanwhile, the rest of the teachers looked varying degrees of worried. All except Lockhart who kept shooting her leering glances when he thought she wasn't looking. The man was really starting to creep her out. He was always watching her whenever they were in the same room, something dark lurking behind his fake smile. Scarlett shuddered. She didn't even want to know what he was thinking.
Scarlett focused back on her Gryffindor friends, trying to gauge their reactions. Hermione wasn't looking as upset as she should have, she actually seemed almost pleased. What was that about? Scarlett would have to keep a closer eye on her.
Fred and George looked intrigued and Neville looked pensive. Only Ron seemed properly horrified. Had her influence already started corrupting her friends? It would certainly make things easier for her if they were all on board with her murderous tendencies. Soon she would have to start training them, but first she had to figure out what was going on with Hermione.
Tom watched as Potter strolled into his quarters as if she owned the place. The girl had always been far too comfortable in his presence, but for some reason her boldness merely served to amuse him.
"What will we be doing today, Professor?" She asked him in lieu of a greeting, her gaze pausing on his flower for a moment longer than necessary before she turned to face him.
She was probably aware that he owned one of the deadly Flores Sanguis and apparently didn't care that it could kill her within seconds. He wondered if she thought he was the one who had destroyed the muggle village. He had certainly destroyed a few muggle villages in the past, but he had to admit that he'd never fully razed one to the ground. Perhaps he was losing his touch. Merlin, he couldn't even remember the last time he tortured someone!
"Today, Miss Potter," Tom said, refocusing on the girl who was looking at him expectantly. "We are going to work on recognising the unique feel of a spell. I will stand behind you and cast a variety of spells. You will name them."
Potter's shoulders tensed slightly, but she nodded and turned her back to him without any complaints. He realised that this was quite a vulnerable position for her to be in, but she apparently trusted him enough to allow it. He wasn't sure why that pleased him so much.
"Don't worry if you don't recognise all of them," he murmured as he drew his wand. "It would just mean that you have yet to encounter them."
Potter rolled her shoulders and, with her next breath, she freed her magic. Tom immediately felt it spreading around the room and he was once again surprised by how much he enjoyed the playful way it danced with his own. He usually couldn't stand the feel of such Light magic, but Potter's was like a soothing balm against his Darkness.
"Off you go" she said cheekily.
Tom suppressed a chuckle and cast his first spell.
"Lumos" Potter's response was instantaneous.
"Correct" he drawled, raising his wand again.
"Expelliarmus" she said just as quickly.
"Aguamenti. Immobulus. Diffindo. Petrificus Totalus. Evanesco. Reducto." Potter sounded bored as she correctly named every single spell.
Tom found himself once again wondering exactly how powerful the Girl-Who-Lived was. Most adult witches and wizards would be unable to do what she was making look extremely easy. Half-way through the lesson she'd gone as far as summoning one of his armchairs to sprawl across it, legs thrown over one arm, head resting on the other. She kept her eyes closed as she correctly named each spell as if she was reading them from a list.
Let's make things a little more interesting. Tom thought to himself as he cast his next spell.
Potter flinched, her eyes snapping open.
"How very naughty of you, Professor" she mock gasped, closing her eyes again. "I believe that was a Crucio."
Tom's mood darkened as he recalled that Quirrel had used the curse on her the previous year. No wonder she'd flinched. Surely she hadn't thought he was going to curse her?
"One last one then, Miss Potter" he declared as he made his wand glow with his favourite curse.
Eyes the colour of said curse opened once more and seemed to stare directly into what was left of his soul. Potter's lips slowly curled up into a knowing smirk.
"Avada Kedavra"
"On my whistle." Madam Hooch said. "One… two… three…"
With an encouraging roar from the crowd, Scarlett shot up towards the sky, flying higher than any of the other players.
"All right there, Scarlett?"
She grinned as she saw Draco speeding past her on his new broom.
"This seems familiar," she teased. "Are you ready to lose?"
Draco grinned right back.
"Are you?"
Scarlett laughed and put on a burst of speed, zooming towards the other side of the pitch. Avoiding a Bludger that had been headed straight for her head, she started circling the field, keeping an eye on Draco in case he managed to spot the Snitch before her. As she waited for the elusive golden ball to make an appearance, Scarlett amused herself by swooping and spiralling, zigzagging and rolling, using her unpredictable movements to break up the Slytherin's formations.
Suddenly, as she was coming out of yet another barrel roll, she finally spotted a flash of gold near the ground. She immediately angled her broom downwards and hurtled towards it at top speed. She was almost there, when the fluttering ball decided to change direction. Pulling up at the last minute to a huge cheer from the crowd, Scarlett chased the Snitch which had apparently decided that it did not want to be caught yet.
Urging her broom to move faster, Scarlett neared the Snitch again, Draco hot on her tail. She glimpsed the Bludger headed her way out of the corner of her eye and she knew that if she swerved to avoid it, she would lose her lead and Draco would be in the perfect position to catch the Snitch. Mentally groaning, Scarlett threw her body forward and, just as her fingers closed around the fluttering golden ball, she was violently knocked off her broom.
Scarlett laid on the grass momentarily dazed, before throwing her hand up in the air.
"We won" she said weakly, coughing up blood. The stupid Bludger had gotten her right in the ribs.
Breathing through the pain, Scarlett rolled onto her side, using her free hand to slowly push herself up; however, before she could make it to her feet, she was met with the very unwelcome sight of Lockhart hurrying towards her.
"I'm completely fine, professor" she said, hoping to dissuade him from doing anything that would worsen her injuries.
"There's no need to act tough, Scarlett" Lockhart said loudly to the approaching crowd. "No need to worry! I'll fix you right up."
"No, really" Scarlett attempted a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "I don't need any help, thank you."
"Lie back, Scarlett," Lockhart said soothingly. "It's a very simple charm."
"I would really feel more comfortable going to the Hospital Wing" she said through clenched teeth.
"Relax Scarlett" Lockhart said, rolling up his sleeves. "The pain will be over soon."
Before she could protest further, the man twirled his wand dramatically and pointed it straight at her.
Nothing happened for a second and she hoped that maybe whatever he'd tried to do hadn't worked. Unfortunately, Scarlett had never been that lucky. She screamed as she was hit with excruciating pain. She could feel her limbs lengthening, her bones shifting and growing, her skin pulling and stretching.
It was with the realisation that Lockhart had somehow managed to age her that Scarlett sank into blissful unconsciousness.