Chapter 3: In the House of Riddle
The little man, Pettigrew, she guessed he was the one who betrayed the family, led her away after the voice, but kept shooting little backward glances of a mixture of hatred and fear. When they turned into a small room to the left, Maeve got her first look at the infamous Lord Voldemort. He sat primly in a musty red armchair by the fire. His skin was as pale as parchment, his nostrils were mere slits, and his eyes were an eerie red. HE stared at her for a reaction to his appearance, but she acted like she hardly noticed and swept a finger along a side table.
"Bit dusty," she commented as she sat in an armchair across from him.
"Mm...Yes, I will make sure to have a Death Eater get right on that," he said sarcastically, "So, tell me, what do you want?"
"I want many things, few of which anyone can give me...but you could help me. And I can help you," she paused dramatically and noticed that she had the dreaded Lord V.'s total attention, just like she always did when she told stories, "I want to be come a Death Eater. Join the cause."
"You? Why? You are only a child, what use could we have with you, I should have just killed you to begin with..." Looking disappointed, he reached for his wand and stopped when she didn't react. "Don't you fear death?"
"What would be the point? We all die eventually, and it couldn't be any worse than life..." she faded out and looked resigned.
"Well, I suppose killing you can wait. So why do you want to join us?" he asked, putting his wand away. She'd hooked him.
Maeve pretended to study her shoes, looking anguished. This was her real magic, story telling. Even before she'd started magic school she'd been able to capture anyone with her stories, whether they were true or not. Of course she was also a powerful witch, but she'd caught the wizard whose name everyone feared to say without even reaching for her wand. She looked up, her dark eyes meeting his red ones for just a moment before she started her half true tale. The best lies always had just a seed of truth.
"Well, my name is Lux Occulaty. I'm from America; the Mid-West to be exact. I grew up in a small town. My family was one of the happiest you could ever see. My parents led normal Muggle lives; you wouldn't expect anything to be different about them. But when I was 10, they broke the news that would change my entire life. They were wizards. I was a witch, and a pretty powerful one at that, but they didn't know how powerful, no one did. I was invited to a bunch of different schools, but we finally Newtgalls, one of the best magic schools in America.
I did extraordinarily well there. Shocked all my teachers. Scored at least 150 in all my classes. I was the top witch in my class, and everyone said I was destined for great things, maybe even the first woman President of the United Sorcerers of America! But Life doesn't seem to like me very much, and when I got home from school last summer, the unthinkable happened. Word had gotten out that my family had magical ability. Old ideas gained ground quickly and it was decided that we had sold our souls to the devil or something. So a group of angry Muggles attacked late one night. They caught my parents totally off guard. I was out with some friends from grade school. When I got home, I found our house burning. I heard the angry voices, and saw them kill my family. My little brother hadn't even started magic school yet! So I ran. I had no choice; all I had were the clothes on my back and my wand. I snuck aboard a ship and magicked my way through all sorts of scrapes with crew members, and landed here. I've only ever had one thought ever since that night: revenge. But I can't do it now, it's too late. Most of those damn Muggles are rotting in a jail. So I caught word of and decided to board the band wagon."
There was silence when she finished her story. She couldn't tell what Voldemort was thinking. Her heart was thundering again as she wondered if he had bought it. She had caught him studying her figure a few times since she'd seen him, a typical man thing to do. If nothing else, that would go for her...Finally he spoke.
"Well, I suppose I could find something for you to do..." he faded out. Suddenly he snapped to the little man who was edging out of the room, "Pettigrew! Find her a room; you know which ones are available."
As she left the room, Maeve could have sworn that she saw the ghost of a smile, creaky and out of practice, but a ghost of a smile all the same, cross the evil nutcase's face before he shook his head and muttered something to himself.