So before I go into the reviews and stuff I have something amazing to tell you! (Well, funny) I went into a little Russian bookstore, all set to buy a book of fairy tales to read (as my Russian isn't that great yet) and guess what? When I got home, I looked at the author and it seemed familiar. Then I realised that it said Albus Dumbledore. I had bought the Tales of Beedle the Bard!
Anyway, hope you enjoyed that little coincidence.ICan'tThinkOfACleverUsername: Welcome to our little community! Thank you for reading and reviewing. My story's plot is already planned out (it just needs to be written) so I hope you will enjoy reading it as you go along.creelluka: I am better again! Woohoo! You should feel bad for your readers! Evil creelluka. But thanks as always for the review.
RabbitDuncan: Wow, so formal! Thank you for your review.
Ash-Caro-Lynn: Thanks for your continued awesome reviews. Sorry about Reg, I got my chapters mixed up... Unfortunately no fluff here either, sorry... But I think you'll love what I have planned for the next few chaps!
HippieLove1312: Thanks for the clarification - maybe this chap will be perfect for you!
Winterlover6: Unfortunately there will not be a sequel, but I do have at least 10 chaps ready and there's still a third of it to go. Did not expect it to go on for this long, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway :) Thanks for the review ;)
Ndigglo, I will get to your PMs, but thanks for the reply :)
Please enjoy the chapter we've all been waiting for! (Well I have, in any case.)
'Nervous?' Alecto asked.
The two girls were sitting in their dorm room. Sophie, for once, didn't want to go to Hogsmeade, though it was the first visit in spring. She was taking her studies seriously, she said, with a glance towards Regulus at breakfast that morning. He gave her an encouraging smile, but seemed to miss the point. She was wondering if anyone might help her with her Transfiguration. Another meaningful look. Regulus suggested a few reference books. She wanted to know if Regulus would be going to the library, as he was vying for Head Boy. At this statement, Rabastan and Regulus exchanged a raised eyebrow. Rabastan quickly said that they had already made plans. Regulus just gave her an infuriating smirk with that condescending look in his eye. Well, infuriating to Emma. Sophie had made it perfectly clear that she thought it was a secret smile reserved especially for her. In a way she's right. It's becoming more and more reserved for her, Emma thought darkly, before dragging her mind to the present situation.
She gave the red-head a weighted look in reply, not daring to say anything, even though there was no way Lucinda would hear them in the shower. Alecto understood though. It isn't something you can put into words, anyway, Emma reflected, as she tugged at her emerald green jumper and smoothed her ivory-white skirt. Both girls had agreed to wear Slytherin colours, though both inwardly thought themselves foolish for trying to dress up for such an occasion. They couldn't help themselves though. This was the moment Lord Voldemort decided he was impressed, or you were shunted to the side: a lackey in his crusade for the greater good. A nobody, forgotten and misplaced, useless. Emma shuddered. She couldn't think of anything worse. Besides, it was said that Lord Voldemort was a proud descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself!
Alecto arranged and re-arranged her thick ginger hair, whilst Emma nervously twisted her locket around her neck, a lump in her throat. When this is all over, Mum and Dad will understand, she thought. After all, it had to get worse before it could get better. They might not approve of violence, but what could they expect, when both of their children were Quidditch players?
'Ohmygosh,' Lucinda practically shrieked upon entering the room, startling both girls. Dressed in nothing but a towel, she crossed the room - to Emma's shock - to sit on the black-haired girl's bed. Though they had shared a room for the past six years, Lucinda refused to even get into her pyjamas in front of the other girls. 'Is that what I think it is?' she asked breathlessly, pointing to the necklace in her hands.
'Umm,' Emma said, rather taken aback. 'My locket?'
She looked down at it. It was nothing new, and nothing special to the others, as far as she knew. Only Alecto could have guessed at the true meaning it held to her, and she was clever enough never to mention it. Even Regulus knew nothing, apart from the fact that it was one of her treasured possessions.
'It's much more than just a locket, Emma,' Lucinda breathed, before jumping up, freshly curled hair bouncing around. 'Come on, there's something I have to show you!'
'You do realise you're dressed in a towel?' Alecto asked sardonically. 'Or is that your new tactic to woo dates?'
Lucinda blushed, but only for a second. 'Hang on.'
She quickly dressed in the outfit she had previously laid on her bed. She had gotten over her crush on Regulus and was now interested in a seventh-year Hufflepuff. She hadn't resisted the fact that he was Amos Diggory's best friend, and at first used him to tease Emma. She had realised that James scared away most potential boyfriends, and whilst she didn't mock her overtly - something no Slytherin would do to a fellow housemate - she still seemed to harbour some rivalry with the raven-haired girl. It had actually become a bit of a game to them, and though each would say that it annoyed them, they were secretly having fun with their little competitions.
However, Lucinda had discovered a new reason to keep dating the Hufflepuff. "He's just so exciting," she had said when probed. "I don't understand him at all, he's such a mystery!" Emma privately thought that the mystery was primarily due to the fact that the Hufflepuff was a complete optimist. Lucinda's favourite game was to unnerve him with back stories on people - often slightly exaggerated - and have him find their good side.
She was broken from her thoughts by the blonde grabbing her arm and rushing up the stairs, nearly colliding with the password wall in her haste to get out. Alecto hurried behind them, shrugging her shoulders when Emma shot her a questioning look. They came to a skidding stop in the dungeon anti-chamber. Lucinda pointed triumphantly at a portrait of Salazar Slytherin.
'All this, to show us a shortcut we were taught in our first year?' Alecto snorted. 'Everyone knows you can easily get to the Entrance Hall from here.'
'No,' Lucinda said impatiently. 'Look.' And she pointed again, jabbing her finger towards the middle of the portrait. The man inside didn't look too impressed at her lack of manners, though he said nothing.
Emma leaned closer, squinting her eyes at the picture. Salazar Slytherin, the Founder of their House, had his usual enigmatic expression, though he had currently added a smirk to it. She stared him in the eye: He said nothing, though his eyes seemed to suggest that he knew something that she did not. Her gaze swept over the portrait, taking in the balding head, long flowing beard, the locket Slytherin so prized…The locket! She took a closer look, then lifted her own above her head to compare them. They were nearly identical.
'See!' Lucinda seemed too overcome to say anything else. 'Do you know what this means?'
'It means that there might be some hope for me after all,' Emma murmured, too softly for her classmates to hear.
'My dear friends,' Lord Voldemort spread his arms out in invitation, his silky voice as enticing as ever. 'Welcome back.'
They were standing in a semi-circle behind the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters, that was to say. The sixth-and-seventh-year students stood huddled in a group on the other side of the abandoned house - ostracised, but not rejected. It was a step up from the hut used to give them their tasks, but still somewhere remote: an abandoned farmhouse some way down a dirt track. It seemed out of place with the elegance of the group standing before them. The Dark Lord's eyes seemed to shine with a vision that would guide them to a better world, though his slitted pupils said that he would be prepared to stoop to any level to get to this ideal world. Each time Emma thought about it, she was amazed at the support he had managed to garner in so little time, but then when she saw him it seemed like the obvious choice. How could someone so powerful, so self-assured ever lose? How did he even meet any resistance? Surely if he met the Minister for Magic and spoke with him then the war could be avoided. Maybe it was the Minister's fault, for not even giving them a chance. Emma wished she was in the inner ranks, so that her knowledge wouldn't be so second hand.
'One month ago today, I entrusted each of you with a specific task, to prove your worth to the cause. Most of you disappointed me. Two of you did not.'
There was an outbreak of mutterings from behind him. Emma supposed that this was not a regular occurrence. She fought to keep the grin from her face, keeping her eyes trained on the wooden floorboards beneath her feet. It wouldn't do to seem too smug now. It would be more impressive if she just pretended as though she had expected it all along. Even so, her heart started pounding at such a rate that she had to concentrate to breathe normally. She wondered if they had surprised him, then asked herself what he must have been like at sixteen. A force to be reckoned with, she concluded.
'Silence!' He had not raised his voice, but the word cut through the hum of conversation like a knife. 'Failure is unacceptable. But I am a merciful Lord. You will have your chance, sooner or later, to redeem yourselves. Until then, leave, with the knowledge that you have failed me.'
With the cold and sneering gaze of the Death Eaters upon them, the students made to troop out, heads hung in humiliation. Perhaps all the more so because they had expected everyone to fail. It would not have been so bad, if they had taken their tasks to be impossible. Most hadn't even tried, shaking their heads in defeat, or being comforted by family members that had gone through the same gruelling process. At least that's what it seemed like, when Emma saw a hooded figure look pityingly at Rabastan. She wondered if it was his brother or his father. All had failed, except Regulus and Emma. In a rare display of emotion, Emma caught Regulus's excited look. Moments later, he had rearranged his features into a slightly satisfied smirk, but his eyes betrayed him still. Emma's excitement only grew.
'I do confess,' the Dark Lord said with a slight hint of wonder, 'that your actions surprised me. Of course, neither were tasks that I would entrust to underage wizards alone, but McNair,' he nodded towards one of the masked faces, 'informed me of the Giants' renewed vigour in the fight, whereas Wilkes…has been dealt with.'
The heavy silence emanating from the Death Eaters told Emma what that last sentence meant. She supposed that Wilkes had been tasked with getting rid of the Muggleborn Ministry officials. She wondered how the Wilkes her age was taking it. It was true that he hadn't been here today. She felt slightly bad for his father; to be fair, they had had the advantage of surprise and their faces couldn't be recognised, but she couldn't help but feel a certain pride in her and Regulus's actions. But Wilkes probably still had an opportunity to redeem himself. The Dark Lord was not so harsh as to not give his loyal followers a second chance, though he punished failure.
'I cannot abide sloppy labour. If a sixteen-year-old can achieve in a week what an adult wizard cannot... Well, let us say that even my patience has some limits,' the Dark Lord's mouth twisted into a mocking sneer. 'But enough of disappointments. Today, we welcome two new friends into our fold. Today is a day for family, for celebration. Bellatrix, would you do the honours?'
Emma's heart was beating furiously in her chest. This was it. This was all she had ever dreamed of. Her life would become meaningful. All those fights with her father seemed lessened, because she was loyal to a worthy cause. Although the fighting scared her, she couldn't wait for it to be over, to create a new society, one where there would be restrictions on Muggles, or maybe ways to prevent them from shaming Muggleborn children. She thought that she might burst out singing, but tried to keep her features calm. Still, it was with trembling fingers that she accepted the velvety black cloth. Bellatrix beamed at her, obviously proud at having been bestowed such a meaningful task. There were tears in her eyes when she gave Regulus his robes, as though her cousin had grown up into something far better than she could have ever hoped for.
Putting her arms through the robes, Emma thought they were at once familiar and strange. How could a set of simple black robes be so different from anything else? At first, she was surprised at their weight. They were as heavy as her winter set at Hogwarts, and yet smooth and soft to the touch, leaving her a freedom of movement that Madam Malkins would have approved of. But at the same time, they did not feel warm. If anything, she felt a slight chill - though that may have been to do with the shiver of excitement that ran through her body.
The robes are like their master, she reflected. The Dark Lord emanates power and belonging, and I know that our cause is the right one only…whenever I am in his presence, I feel a thrill of fear. Something's not quite right... She glanced towards Regulus, who was wearing a satisfied smirk on his face. Of course, Regulus has looked at this from all of the angles. Maybe I'm just paranoid, scared of getting in too deep when the fight is only beginning. I need to trust in this. It's normal to feel misgivings. Being a Death Eater is for life.
'Hold out your left arm,' the Dark Lord spoke softly to her, bringing her out of her thoughts.
Her eyes met the snake-like pupils, and every doubt vanished. He was trusting her, her, to do what was needed. She felt a tendril probing her mind, and remembered Regulus's lessons. Occlumency seemed so easy when she felt so confident, and she nearly laughed at the check through her mind, making sure that she was not a spy. No misgivings or doubts were to be found among her memories - her own mind had already banished them with her resolution. She stepped forwards, rolling her new sleeve up to expose the smooth expanse of skin below. The Dark Lord bestowed one of his rare, brilliant smiles upon her. She felt as though she had stepped into the light. If only she could become so sure of herself the entire time.
'Morsmordre,' the incantation came out almost like a hiss, and Emma felt a burning sensation on her arm. She gritted her teeth against the pain, but didn't flinch, watching with dream-like fascination at the smoky substance flowing out of the tip of the wand, tracing the head of a snake in vivid red before travelling up her arm to form a skull near her elbow, grinning up at her with sightless eyes. Two tendrils broke formation, twisting to the side to form the rest of the intricate tattoo, before merging back into the snake. The end result was a snake protruding from the mouth of the skull, twisting to form a loose figure eight knot before travelling half-way down her forearm to bare its fangs.