Chapter One
Inspection
I was in trouble again.
It wasn't my fault, really-- they had made me angry. Michelle and Jenna, that is. The Dark Lord didn't mind if we spoke with the caged Muggles, but the way they were treating them was horrendous. I just couldn't stand it.
"Polly want a cracker?" Michelle teased, poking her wand at the Muggle through the cage bars.
"Stop," mumbled the Muggle, a pretty-faced girl with long, mousy-brown hair.
"Stop?" snorted Michelle. "Why should we stop? You're just a Muggle. A dirty, filthy, MUGGLE!"
Jenna strolled up and put her arm around Michelle. "This one bothering you?"
"Yes," replied Michelle, mocking hurt feelings.
"Fine then," laughed Jenna. "You know the punishment for hurting Mish's feelings, don't you, Muggle?"
"No," she moaned. "Please, no..."
"What are you guys doing?" I snapped, dropping several boxes of wands on the shelves. "You aren't hurting them, are you?"
"Just was about to." Jenna grinned, then turned to the caged Muggle. "CRUCIO!"
"Jenna!" I screeched, leaping on her back and struggling to find her wrist.
"El-- ELLA! What are you doing?" snarled Michelle, pulling me off her back.
Fortunately, as soon as I'd leapt on Jenna, she had pulled her wand off the Muggle. Still, the girl was huddled in the corner of her cage, shivering like mad. Even if the Cructatious Curse was only used for a short amount of time, it still hurt like Hell.
"Alohomora!" The cage door popped open and out scampered the Muggle. She took one horrified look at us and ran straight through the door, causing all sorts of magical alarms to go off.
"Are you crazy?" yelled Jenna, panting. "Today's the day the Dark Lord is coming for inspection! He'll kill us all if he finds one of the Muggles has escaped."
"He's coming today?" My heart sank. "I thought it was next week...?"
"No, today's inspection day, moron!" exclaimed Michelle, picking up her wand, which had fallen out of her hand when she went to save Jenna from my attack. "You're in for it, Ella!"
"Damn," I cursed, pocketing my wand. "Someone use a Locating Charm, then, she can't have gotten--"
"Good day, ladies."
A cold, cruel voice pierced all three of our minds. I stumbled backwards at the words, which were like chips of ice thrown onto the back of my neck. I knew that voice quite well. It was the one of my master.
"This Muggle seems to have escaped," said Voldemort calmly, pulling the girl into the room. He was gripping her by the hair cruelly, while tears dripped down her face. "I can't imagine how that could have happened. All of these cages are magically locked." He smiled icily at us. "Unless, someone let her out!"
From behind Lord Voldemort stepped out John Riddle, his handsome, dark-haired son. No one had believe the Dark Lord when he told them he had a son. But apparently, far away in the Fortress of Azkaban, he had been learning every type of horrible Dark Arts there was. He had learned to resist the Dementors, and was no longer affected by them; he had learned how to kill the most powerful of wizards with the words "Adava Kedarva"; he had been taught by the Dark Lord himself.
And was he powerful, both in words, minds, and deeds. He was able to calm his father's anger with a few soothing phrases, but at the same time, he was capable of flaring his father's anger to the point where he could use the Dark Lord's wrath against his enemies. Many feared him, but he was also fancied among many of the girls. I myself had never fancied him. He was different than a regular boy; he was mindless and cruel, and constantly dictated by his father's evil past.
"It was Ella's fault," blurted out Michelle.
"It was not!" I replied indignantly.
John's brown eyes rested on me curiously for a moment. I gazed back at him, wishing, hoping, begging that somehow he'd help me. I knew he could command his father. Would he help me now? He has no reason to, I told myself. You're just another employee. But perhaps, if I was lucky, he would take mercy on me. It was the only hope I had left.
"Ella," whispered the Dark Lord, "What is the meaning of this?"
I swallowed nervously, wondering if perhaps there was safety in telling the truth. The Dark Lord had always been fond of me, more than any of the other female members. But then again, I had never given him any reason to be angry with me. Not until now, that is. Oh, sure, I had gotten in trouble tons of times with John and other ranks of authority in the society-- and I had scars to prove it.
"They were-- the Muggle-- I didn't think it was right-- Just teasing and taunting-- so I unlocked the cage-- I'm sorry-- Oh, forgive me, Lord," I mumbled, falling to my knees. "Please, Lord, be merciful..."
"I am not merciful to those who do not please me," said Voldemort. I could tell that he was repressing the anger in his voice so to make me even more nervous than I already was. "You have always pleased me, Ella. However, this time, you must be punished."
"No, Lord, please, don't--"
"Crucio!"
I screamed in pain, each of my fingnails feeling as if someone was ripping them right out of their nail bed, my heart feeling as if it were burning in the fiery pits of Hell, and my head feeling like it was going to explode from the inside out. I clawed at the floor, reaching for Jenna's leg, but she quickly removed it from my reach.
"Please!" I choked, staring up at the Dark Lord with bleary eyes. "Please! Enough!"
"Enough?" he murmured, lifting his wand. "Enough for now. But if this happens again, Ella, the price you will pay will be much worse than that small dosage of pain."
I simply answered him with a moan.
"Put her away," ordered Voldemort, kicking the Muggle in the ribs. "And if I hear of her escaping again, I will be very angry indeed."
He smiled gently at Jenna and Michelle, but he cast a dark look upon me. "You have displeased me, Ella."
"I am sorry," I mumbled, getting to my feet.
"You are my favourite," he hissed. I glanced to Jenna and Michelle, noticing that they looked crush that they were not the Dark Lord's favourite. "My favourite female. Someday, I would like you to wed my son. You are the only girl worthy of him."
I gasped loudly. Voldemort pressed his cold hand over my mouth to supress any astonished exclamations I might make. "Just remember that. It may help while you are fufilling my duties. Do not displease me again, Ella."
"I will not displease you, Lord," I muttered as he removed his hand from my mouth.
"Good," he whispered, smirking. "Then you will be the princess on my throne."
"Thank you, Lord," I whispered back.
"Come, John. We have much to speak about." The Dark Lord left the room, his robes slithering across the hard marble floor.
John cast another inquisitive look upon me. He seemed to be asking, "What were you thinking?" I can answer that question, I thought bitterly. I think that this is all wrong. I don't want to be Voldemort's princess. I want to be Ella.
I want to be somewhere, anywhere but here...
Long had I wanted to leave the Society. That's all those evil-minded fools called it; "the Society". It's official name was The Society for Voldemort's Followers, but most people didn't call themselves "members", even though that's what they were. They called themselves Death Eaters, but they weren't really that high up in rank. The Death Eaters assisted on actual wizard slaughter, and they were Voldemort's hand-chosen disciples. Members like Jenna, Michelle, and I were just workers at the Muggle Extermination Center, a disgusting place of Dark Magic and evil where the Muggles were kept in cages, awaiting their day for "extermination". Mostly the killers (called Mugtods) used the Killing Curse, Adava Kedarva, but sometimes, they tortured the Muggles to their death.
I never watched the Muggle Killings. I used to, when I was younger and more foolish, but now, I refused to even be near the Extermination Room. When I had been younger, and had actually enjoyed being part of the Society, I had often been bitter that I couldn't be an actual Death Eater. Most likely, I would have been one of Voldemort's hand-picked followers, but he had a strict rule that females were not allowed to be Death Eaters. Sexist, yes. But it was just the reality of the situation. As a young, foolish girl at 12 years old, I was fascinated with Voldemort. I had repeatedly read every book I could find about his rise to power, and then his sudden fall to the little Harry Potter. At the time, I had hated Harry Potter with such a severe passion that I could have been the Dark Lord himself.
But Harry Potter didn't matter anymore. He had been dead for four years now. Just as I had gotten involved in learning about Voldemort, Harry and the Dark Lord had a crucial battle for the peace of the wizarding world. Harry, naturally, lost. He had kept Voldemort at bay for a short while, but when it came to actual power, he had none.
I met Voldemort shortly after the death of Potter. Great Britain had already been taken over by the Dark Lord, as well as France, Poland, and Austria. Germany put up a great fight, but it too fell. American wizards and witches knew it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord came to the United States to take over the "land of the free". Most awaited the day with a sense of doom, but I was extremely excited at the time. I wanted to be the first to meet Lord Voldemort, for in my mind, he was a man of perfection.
I was in American History of Magic IV when he came to Franklin's School of Magic. I have no idea why they named the school after a Muggle inventor, but they did. Franklin has always lived in Hogwart's shadow, and many of the American wizards and witches were bitter for it. Maybe that's why they accept Voldemort so freely when he came to visit. Visit, ha... He came to take over the school.
IThere was a subtle knock on the door.
"Come in," sang my History teacher. She was a 60-year-old, gray-haired witch, but she never seemed to tire of her subject. Nor did she let her students tire of it; she constantly found new ways to make American History of Magic IV exciting, if one can believe that.
"We have a visitor," said our principal, who was short, bald, nervous, and currently shaking like a leaf.
Inside stepped the skinniest and palest man I had ever seen. Never had I seen a picture of Lord Voldemort, so I didn't understand who he was at first. I just knew right away that I was intrigued by this man. He was cloaked in long, very black robes-- almost [I]too[/I] black, as if the black was some sort of trick to the eye. His eyes were narrow and red, like a snake's, and for some reason, they rested on me.
"Why," he murmured. "What a beautiful set of children you have, Mr. Thomas." He smiled at all of us, while we quivered with anticipation. "I am Lord Voldemort, children," he announced, giving us an eerie smirk. "I trust you will all be joining me."
There was a moment of silence. Then I spoke. I had always been the most vocal of the class.
"I will, Lord Voldemort!"
"Excellent, child. You will be based at the first of my Muggle Extermination Centers," he breathed, pleasure quavering on his every syllable. "Welcome to the Society." He paused for a moment. "Anyone else? Or would you rather die?"/i
Thus began my service to the Society. About two years into the whole thing, I became tired of it and wanted to quit. But no one ever quit the Society. You would have to be a fool to quit, because there was only one way to quit the Society.
You had to die.
So, I continually protested against the mistreatment of the Muggles kept in the confines of the Muggle Extermination Center. We were located just outside of Chicago, but we weren't the only one. There was one near New York City, Boston, Los Angeles, Dallas, and several other cities across America. There were even more in Europe, but none were as powerful and as deadly as the one I worked in. The Massachusetts Muggle Extermination Center was the biggest-- and thus, more lethal-- center in the whole world. I never meant to be caught inside one of the most horrible death traps ever created by man. But I did.
Albus Dumbledore (in my opinion, a fool of a wizard) had tried to retaliate with his own "society", but it had been feeble. It still existed, actually, but it now saved such a small percentage of people's lives that it was insignifigant. They called themselves the Order of the Phoenix. At first, the Order seemed to be gaining much power among European wizards. I had thought that maybe Lord Voldemort wasn't going to win after all. But then the downfall of young Harry Potter came, and immediately the Order went into chaos. One of their head wizards, Sirius Black was killed, along with mastermind of the Order, Arabella Figg.
"Nice going, El," muttered Jenna, startling me out of my thoughts.
I glanced over to the cage to see that the Muggle was back in her cage.
"Poor thing," I said softly, kneeling by her cage. My hands were still shaking from the incident with Voldemort.
"That 'poor thing' could have costed you big," said Michelle irritably, unpacking the boxes of wands. "Hey, I didn't know we were getting in another shipment of wands."
"John wanted them," I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Michelle and Jenna were acting as if the whole thing was my fault, even though it wasn't. If they hadn't stirred me to anger, nothing would have happened. They Iknew/I I hated it when they teased the Muggles.
"What for, I wonder?" thought Jenna aloud. "These are good quality, too," she added as an afterthought.
"Maybe we're getting a shipment of kids, too," laughed Michelle scornfully.
"What do you mean?" I asked suddenly, jumping to my feet.
"Haven't you heard? They're sending a bunch of kids over from Franklin to be trained here. Good idea, actually. I can't imagine what kind of crap would go on here without us beautiful girls running the place." She grinned over at Jenna, who grinned back.
I snorted. Beautiful girls indeed! Jenna and Michelle loved to eat more than they loved the Society. That was saying something. The pair was more obsessed with the Society than they were with Voldemort's handsome son. Anyway, their passion for food really showed-- each of them were short, about 5'1 or 5'2, and about 170 pounds. They were not natural beauties at all.
I didn't like to evaluate my own beauty, but some had called me beautiful-- even Lord Voldemort himself. I figured that's why he wished me to wed his son. John would expect only the best of beauty and brains from his wife. Though I wasn't dark, sexy, and slinky like some of the girls in the Society, I did have long, blonde hair that naturally had many gentle waves. My hair was probably my best asset. Then came my eyes: bright, greenish-blue, and always active; my lips, which were nicely shaped, but nothing special; my body, which was big in every way, reflecting my German heritage. I wasn't fat-- especially not like Jenna and Michelle-- but I wasn't exactly a pixie.
"That's horrible," I snapped. "Why can't the kids be educated at Franklin?"
"I heard a lot of those kids were going over to the Order," replied Jenna calmly, examining one of the wands. "I guess they think if they educate them here, they're more likely to join the Society."
Or maybe they'll realize that this place is one big nightmare, I thought.
"Are you coming for dinner, Ella?" asked Michelle, wrapping the wands back up and stacking them in her arms.
"I don't know. Maybe." For some reason, I suddenly felt very queasy.
"Listen, El," said Jenna very seriously, "I know you haven't exactly been happy here."
No duh, I thought sarcastically.
"But you can't let this oppertunity pass you by," chimed Michelle.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, mystified.
"IJohn/I! Who else? IJohn/I!" Jenna rolled her eyes.
"John?" I blinked. "What about him?"
"The Dark Lord wants you to marry him, doesn't he?" asked Jenna. "Or am I just deaf?"
"Oh, I dunno," I mumbled, turning away from them. "He was probably joking."
"The Dark Lord doesn't joke. You know that." Michelle laid a hand on my shoulder.
I wanted to vomit. They were all such fools!
"So what's your point?" I snapped, my patience used up.
"Don't blow it, El. That's all we're saying. IDon't blow it./I" Jenna sighed softly. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be the happiest girl in the world. The Dark Lord has always liked you. You know that. I wish he'd like me the way he likes you."
"John will be the most powerful wizard in the world someday," added Michelle excitedly. "Imagine being on the arm of the most powerful wizard in the world!"
"Sounds great," I said, not attempting any feigned enthusiasm.
"It's not fair," cried Jenna. "Girls like us that Iwant/i to be with John can't, and the one girl in the whole world that Idoesn't/I want to be with him has to get him!"
"Why didn't I speak first in American History?" moaned Michelle. "Maybe he would have noticed me."
"You guys are so stupid!" I snarled, turning on them. "You don't understand, do you? Have you even been near the Muggle Extermination Room? Have you seen what the Mugtods do?"
"We're not allowed near there, you know that," replied Michelle unhappily. "Only Iyou/I are."
"They kill the Muggles," I told them passionately. "They Ikill/I them!"
"Well, duh," giggled Jenna. "We know that. Filthy Muggles," she added nastily.
"You don't understand," I mumbled. "You wouldn't understand. And you won't understand... Not until you see it with your own eyes."
"Quit being so dramatic, El," snickered Jenna, moving towards the door. "Really."
"Come for dinner, okay?" Michelle smiled at me as if I were her new best friend. "You're going to make a beautiful bride, Ella. You honestly are."
"Oh, but--"
"We'd better go ask John what he wants us to do with these wands," interrupted Jenna. "C'mon, let's go, Mish."
As soon as they'd left, I knelt back next to the Muggle girl and sighed. She looked up at me with sad, scared eyes. No wonder she's afraid, I thought. She doesn't know if I'll be the one to kill her, or torture her, or anything...
"I'm sorry about them," I murmured, poking a finger through the cage. "They don't understand."
"Why are they doing this?" whispered the girl. "Why?"
"I can't explain," I told her. "I don't think anyone can anymore."
"I was part of the Order," she said in a low voice.
"Aren't you Muggle?" I said surprisedly.
She shook her head. "I went to Hogwarts."
"Why are you here, then?" I exclaimed, watching her with interest. "You aren't Muggle, after all."
"They would've killed me," she continued softly, "but I have information they want. They'll extract it from me soon." The girl blinked back tears. "I'm afraid that under the Cructatious Curse, I'll have no choice."
"What do you know?" I whispered excitedly. "Tell me!"
"No," she snapped. "I'll never tell!"
"If you tell me, I might be able to help you."
She seemed about to say something, but stopped. "Why would you do that?" she breathed anxiously.
"I don't-- Let's just say I'm not an ordinary Society member," I managed to say.
"All right then. But you must promise never to tell," she warned me.
"I won't," I promised.
"There is a girl from Hogwarts who's a few years older than myself that they're pursuing," she hissed in my ear, glancing up every now and then to see if anyone was listening. "You know now that they're rounding up all of Potter's old friends, and they're killing them all off, one by one. There's one girl who he was especially good friends with that they haven't been able to reach. Not yet," she added mournfully.
"What's her name?" I demanded.
"Hermione," whispered the girl. "Hermione Granger."
Inspection
I was in trouble again.
It wasn't my fault, really-- they had made me angry. Michelle and Jenna, that is. The Dark Lord didn't mind if we spoke with the caged Muggles, but the way they were treating them was horrendous. I just couldn't stand it.
"Polly want a cracker?" Michelle teased, poking her wand at the Muggle through the cage bars.
"Stop," mumbled the Muggle, a pretty-faced girl with long, mousy-brown hair.
"Stop?" snorted Michelle. "Why should we stop? You're just a Muggle. A dirty, filthy, MUGGLE!"
Jenna strolled up and put her arm around Michelle. "This one bothering you?"
"Yes," replied Michelle, mocking hurt feelings.
"Fine then," laughed Jenna. "You know the punishment for hurting Mish's feelings, don't you, Muggle?"
"No," she moaned. "Please, no..."
"What are you guys doing?" I snapped, dropping several boxes of wands on the shelves. "You aren't hurting them, are you?"
"Just was about to." Jenna grinned, then turned to the caged Muggle. "CRUCIO!"
"Jenna!" I screeched, leaping on her back and struggling to find her wrist.
"El-- ELLA! What are you doing?" snarled Michelle, pulling me off her back.
Fortunately, as soon as I'd leapt on Jenna, she had pulled her wand off the Muggle. Still, the girl was huddled in the corner of her cage, shivering like mad. Even if the Cructatious Curse was only used for a short amount of time, it still hurt like Hell.
"Alohomora!" The cage door popped open and out scampered the Muggle. She took one horrified look at us and ran straight through the door, causing all sorts of magical alarms to go off.
"Are you crazy?" yelled Jenna, panting. "Today's the day the Dark Lord is coming for inspection! He'll kill us all if he finds one of the Muggles has escaped."
"He's coming today?" My heart sank. "I thought it was next week...?"
"No, today's inspection day, moron!" exclaimed Michelle, picking up her wand, which had fallen out of her hand when she went to save Jenna from my attack. "You're in for it, Ella!"
"Damn," I cursed, pocketing my wand. "Someone use a Locating Charm, then, she can't have gotten--"
"Good day, ladies."
A cold, cruel voice pierced all three of our minds. I stumbled backwards at the words, which were like chips of ice thrown onto the back of my neck. I knew that voice quite well. It was the one of my master.
"This Muggle seems to have escaped," said Voldemort calmly, pulling the girl into the room. He was gripping her by the hair cruelly, while tears dripped down her face. "I can't imagine how that could have happened. All of these cages are magically locked." He smiled icily at us. "Unless, someone let her out!"
From behind Lord Voldemort stepped out John Riddle, his handsome, dark-haired son. No one had believe the Dark Lord when he told them he had a son. But apparently, far away in the Fortress of Azkaban, he had been learning every type of horrible Dark Arts there was. He had learned to resist the Dementors, and was no longer affected by them; he had learned how to kill the most powerful of wizards with the words "Adava Kedarva"; he had been taught by the Dark Lord himself.
And was he powerful, both in words, minds, and deeds. He was able to calm his father's anger with a few soothing phrases, but at the same time, he was capable of flaring his father's anger to the point where he could use the Dark Lord's wrath against his enemies. Many feared him, but he was also fancied among many of the girls. I myself had never fancied him. He was different than a regular boy; he was mindless and cruel, and constantly dictated by his father's evil past.
"It was Ella's fault," blurted out Michelle.
"It was not!" I replied indignantly.
John's brown eyes rested on me curiously for a moment. I gazed back at him, wishing, hoping, begging that somehow he'd help me. I knew he could command his father. Would he help me now? He has no reason to, I told myself. You're just another employee. But perhaps, if I was lucky, he would take mercy on me. It was the only hope I had left.
"Ella," whispered the Dark Lord, "What is the meaning of this?"
I swallowed nervously, wondering if perhaps there was safety in telling the truth. The Dark Lord had always been fond of me, more than any of the other female members. But then again, I had never given him any reason to be angry with me. Not until now, that is. Oh, sure, I had gotten in trouble tons of times with John and other ranks of authority in the society-- and I had scars to prove it.
"They were-- the Muggle-- I didn't think it was right-- Just teasing and taunting-- so I unlocked the cage-- I'm sorry-- Oh, forgive me, Lord," I mumbled, falling to my knees. "Please, Lord, be merciful..."
"I am not merciful to those who do not please me," said Voldemort. I could tell that he was repressing the anger in his voice so to make me even more nervous than I already was. "You have always pleased me, Ella. However, this time, you must be punished."
"No, Lord, please, don't--"
"Crucio!"
I screamed in pain, each of my fingnails feeling as if someone was ripping them right out of their nail bed, my heart feeling as if it were burning in the fiery pits of Hell, and my head feeling like it was going to explode from the inside out. I clawed at the floor, reaching for Jenna's leg, but she quickly removed it from my reach.
"Please!" I choked, staring up at the Dark Lord with bleary eyes. "Please! Enough!"
"Enough?" he murmured, lifting his wand. "Enough for now. But if this happens again, Ella, the price you will pay will be much worse than that small dosage of pain."
I simply answered him with a moan.
"Put her away," ordered Voldemort, kicking the Muggle in the ribs. "And if I hear of her escaping again, I will be very angry indeed."
He smiled gently at Jenna and Michelle, but he cast a dark look upon me. "You have displeased me, Ella."
"I am sorry," I mumbled, getting to my feet.
"You are my favourite," he hissed. I glanced to Jenna and Michelle, noticing that they looked crush that they were not the Dark Lord's favourite. "My favourite female. Someday, I would like you to wed my son. You are the only girl worthy of him."
I gasped loudly. Voldemort pressed his cold hand over my mouth to supress any astonished exclamations I might make. "Just remember that. It may help while you are fufilling my duties. Do not displease me again, Ella."
"I will not displease you, Lord," I muttered as he removed his hand from my mouth.
"Good," he whispered, smirking. "Then you will be the princess on my throne."
"Thank you, Lord," I whispered back.
"Come, John. We have much to speak about." The Dark Lord left the room, his robes slithering across the hard marble floor.
John cast another inquisitive look upon me. He seemed to be asking, "What were you thinking?" I can answer that question, I thought bitterly. I think that this is all wrong. I don't want to be Voldemort's princess. I want to be Ella.
I want to be somewhere, anywhere but here...
Long had I wanted to leave the Society. That's all those evil-minded fools called it; "the Society". It's official name was The Society for Voldemort's Followers, but most people didn't call themselves "members", even though that's what they were. They called themselves Death Eaters, but they weren't really that high up in rank. The Death Eaters assisted on actual wizard slaughter, and they were Voldemort's hand-chosen disciples. Members like Jenna, Michelle, and I were just workers at the Muggle Extermination Center, a disgusting place of Dark Magic and evil where the Muggles were kept in cages, awaiting their day for "extermination". Mostly the killers (called Mugtods) used the Killing Curse, Adava Kedarva, but sometimes, they tortured the Muggles to their death.
I never watched the Muggle Killings. I used to, when I was younger and more foolish, but now, I refused to even be near the Extermination Room. When I had been younger, and had actually enjoyed being part of the Society, I had often been bitter that I couldn't be an actual Death Eater. Most likely, I would have been one of Voldemort's hand-picked followers, but he had a strict rule that females were not allowed to be Death Eaters. Sexist, yes. But it was just the reality of the situation. As a young, foolish girl at 12 years old, I was fascinated with Voldemort. I had repeatedly read every book I could find about his rise to power, and then his sudden fall to the little Harry Potter. At the time, I had hated Harry Potter with such a severe passion that I could have been the Dark Lord himself.
But Harry Potter didn't matter anymore. He had been dead for four years now. Just as I had gotten involved in learning about Voldemort, Harry and the Dark Lord had a crucial battle for the peace of the wizarding world. Harry, naturally, lost. He had kept Voldemort at bay for a short while, but when it came to actual power, he had none.
I met Voldemort shortly after the death of Potter. Great Britain had already been taken over by the Dark Lord, as well as France, Poland, and Austria. Germany put up a great fight, but it too fell. American wizards and witches knew it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord came to the United States to take over the "land of the free". Most awaited the day with a sense of doom, but I was extremely excited at the time. I wanted to be the first to meet Lord Voldemort, for in my mind, he was a man of perfection.
I was in American History of Magic IV when he came to Franklin's School of Magic. I have no idea why they named the school after a Muggle inventor, but they did. Franklin has always lived in Hogwart's shadow, and many of the American wizards and witches were bitter for it. Maybe that's why they accept Voldemort so freely when he came to visit. Visit, ha... He came to take over the school.
IThere was a subtle knock on the door.
"Come in," sang my History teacher. She was a 60-year-old, gray-haired witch, but she never seemed to tire of her subject. Nor did she let her students tire of it; she constantly found new ways to make American History of Magic IV exciting, if one can believe that.
"We have a visitor," said our principal, who was short, bald, nervous, and currently shaking like a leaf.
Inside stepped the skinniest and palest man I had ever seen. Never had I seen a picture of Lord Voldemort, so I didn't understand who he was at first. I just knew right away that I was intrigued by this man. He was cloaked in long, very black robes-- almost [I]too[/I] black, as if the black was some sort of trick to the eye. His eyes were narrow and red, like a snake's, and for some reason, they rested on me.
"Why," he murmured. "What a beautiful set of children you have, Mr. Thomas." He smiled at all of us, while we quivered with anticipation. "I am Lord Voldemort, children," he announced, giving us an eerie smirk. "I trust you will all be joining me."
There was a moment of silence. Then I spoke. I had always been the most vocal of the class.
"I will, Lord Voldemort!"
"Excellent, child. You will be based at the first of my Muggle Extermination Centers," he breathed, pleasure quavering on his every syllable. "Welcome to the Society." He paused for a moment. "Anyone else? Or would you rather die?"/i
Thus began my service to the Society. About two years into the whole thing, I became tired of it and wanted to quit. But no one ever quit the Society. You would have to be a fool to quit, because there was only one way to quit the Society.
You had to die.
So, I continually protested against the mistreatment of the Muggles kept in the confines of the Muggle Extermination Center. We were located just outside of Chicago, but we weren't the only one. There was one near New York City, Boston, Los Angeles, Dallas, and several other cities across America. There were even more in Europe, but none were as powerful and as deadly as the one I worked in. The Massachusetts Muggle Extermination Center was the biggest-- and thus, more lethal-- center in the whole world. I never meant to be caught inside one of the most horrible death traps ever created by man. But I did.
Albus Dumbledore (in my opinion, a fool of a wizard) had tried to retaliate with his own "society", but it had been feeble. It still existed, actually, but it now saved such a small percentage of people's lives that it was insignifigant. They called themselves the Order of the Phoenix. At first, the Order seemed to be gaining much power among European wizards. I had thought that maybe Lord Voldemort wasn't going to win after all. But then the downfall of young Harry Potter came, and immediately the Order went into chaos. One of their head wizards, Sirius Black was killed, along with mastermind of the Order, Arabella Figg.
"Nice going, El," muttered Jenna, startling me out of my thoughts.
I glanced over to the cage to see that the Muggle was back in her cage.
"Poor thing," I said softly, kneeling by her cage. My hands were still shaking from the incident with Voldemort.
"That 'poor thing' could have costed you big," said Michelle irritably, unpacking the boxes of wands. "Hey, I didn't know we were getting in another shipment of wands."
"John wanted them," I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. Michelle and Jenna were acting as if the whole thing was my fault, even though it wasn't. If they hadn't stirred me to anger, nothing would have happened. They Iknew/I I hated it when they teased the Muggles.
"What for, I wonder?" thought Jenna aloud. "These are good quality, too," she added as an afterthought.
"Maybe we're getting a shipment of kids, too," laughed Michelle scornfully.
"What do you mean?" I asked suddenly, jumping to my feet.
"Haven't you heard? They're sending a bunch of kids over from Franklin to be trained here. Good idea, actually. I can't imagine what kind of crap would go on here without us beautiful girls running the place." She grinned over at Jenna, who grinned back.
I snorted. Beautiful girls indeed! Jenna and Michelle loved to eat more than they loved the Society. That was saying something. The pair was more obsessed with the Society than they were with Voldemort's handsome son. Anyway, their passion for food really showed-- each of them were short, about 5'1 or 5'2, and about 170 pounds. They were not natural beauties at all.
I didn't like to evaluate my own beauty, but some had called me beautiful-- even Lord Voldemort himself. I figured that's why he wished me to wed his son. John would expect only the best of beauty and brains from his wife. Though I wasn't dark, sexy, and slinky like some of the girls in the Society, I did have long, blonde hair that naturally had many gentle waves. My hair was probably my best asset. Then came my eyes: bright, greenish-blue, and always active; my lips, which were nicely shaped, but nothing special; my body, which was big in every way, reflecting my German heritage. I wasn't fat-- especially not like Jenna and Michelle-- but I wasn't exactly a pixie.
"That's horrible," I snapped. "Why can't the kids be educated at Franklin?"
"I heard a lot of those kids were going over to the Order," replied Jenna calmly, examining one of the wands. "I guess they think if they educate them here, they're more likely to join the Society."
Or maybe they'll realize that this place is one big nightmare, I thought.
"Are you coming for dinner, Ella?" asked Michelle, wrapping the wands back up and stacking them in her arms.
"I don't know. Maybe." For some reason, I suddenly felt very queasy.
"Listen, El," said Jenna very seriously, "I know you haven't exactly been happy here."
No duh, I thought sarcastically.
"But you can't let this oppertunity pass you by," chimed Michelle.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, mystified.
"IJohn/I! Who else? IJohn/I!" Jenna rolled her eyes.
"John?" I blinked. "What about him?"
"The Dark Lord wants you to marry him, doesn't he?" asked Jenna. "Or am I just deaf?"
"Oh, I dunno," I mumbled, turning away from them. "He was probably joking."
"The Dark Lord doesn't joke. You know that." Michelle laid a hand on my shoulder.
I wanted to vomit. They were all such fools!
"So what's your point?" I snapped, my patience used up.
"Don't blow it, El. That's all we're saying. IDon't blow it./I" Jenna sighed softly. "If I were in your shoes, I'd be the happiest girl in the world. The Dark Lord has always liked you. You know that. I wish he'd like me the way he likes you."
"John will be the most powerful wizard in the world someday," added Michelle excitedly. "Imagine being on the arm of the most powerful wizard in the world!"
"Sounds great," I said, not attempting any feigned enthusiasm.
"It's not fair," cried Jenna. "Girls like us that Iwant/i to be with John can't, and the one girl in the whole world that Idoesn't/I want to be with him has to get him!"
"Why didn't I speak first in American History?" moaned Michelle. "Maybe he would have noticed me."
"You guys are so stupid!" I snarled, turning on them. "You don't understand, do you? Have you even been near the Muggle Extermination Room? Have you seen what the Mugtods do?"
"We're not allowed near there, you know that," replied Michelle unhappily. "Only Iyou/I are."
"They kill the Muggles," I told them passionately. "They Ikill/I them!"
"Well, duh," giggled Jenna. "We know that. Filthy Muggles," she added nastily.
"You don't understand," I mumbled. "You wouldn't understand. And you won't understand... Not until you see it with your own eyes."
"Quit being so dramatic, El," snickered Jenna, moving towards the door. "Really."
"Come for dinner, okay?" Michelle smiled at me as if I were her new best friend. "You're going to make a beautiful bride, Ella. You honestly are."
"Oh, but--"
"We'd better go ask John what he wants us to do with these wands," interrupted Jenna. "C'mon, let's go, Mish."
As soon as they'd left, I knelt back next to the Muggle girl and sighed. She looked up at me with sad, scared eyes. No wonder she's afraid, I thought. She doesn't know if I'll be the one to kill her, or torture her, or anything...
"I'm sorry about them," I murmured, poking a finger through the cage. "They don't understand."
"Why are they doing this?" whispered the girl. "Why?"
"I can't explain," I told her. "I don't think anyone can anymore."
"I was part of the Order," she said in a low voice.
"Aren't you Muggle?" I said surprisedly.
She shook her head. "I went to Hogwarts."
"Why are you here, then?" I exclaimed, watching her with interest. "You aren't Muggle, after all."
"They would've killed me," she continued softly, "but I have information they want. They'll extract it from me soon." The girl blinked back tears. "I'm afraid that under the Cructatious Curse, I'll have no choice."
"What do you know?" I whispered excitedly. "Tell me!"
"No," she snapped. "I'll never tell!"
"If you tell me, I might be able to help you."
She seemed about to say something, but stopped. "Why would you do that?" she breathed anxiously.
"I don't-- Let's just say I'm not an ordinary Society member," I managed to say.
"All right then. But you must promise never to tell," she warned me.
"I won't," I promised.
"There is a girl from Hogwarts who's a few years older than myself that they're pursuing," she hissed in my ear, glancing up every now and then to see if anyone was listening. "You know now that they're rounding up all of Potter's old friends, and they're killing them all off, one by one. There's one girl who he was especially good friends with that they haven't been able to reach. Not yet," she added mournfully.
"What's her name?" I demanded.
"Hermione," whispered the girl. "Hermione Granger."