Chapter 4: The Order of Darkness
Hermione entered Minas Morgul, and set Morgoth on the ground as she headed to rest for the hour. Screams of the Elves and Men that were taken into her service or captured filled her ears. She was at first, nauseated and annoyed by the noise, now she just blocked it out with no problem whatsoever.
Morgoth yawned and jumped onto the pillow that he rested on (he was, of course, still a cat after all). "Sleep well, my father," Hermione said to him as he laid his head on his paws.
The Black Order was the White Order's alternate group. Mostly conjoined of the Nine, Orcs, "evil" Men, herself and Morgoth. Hermione hated to admit it, but she wished Harry and Ron would at least try to understand why she did what she did; joined Mordred and became the next Dark Lord.
But it was feeble wishing; they were still enraged with her. Well…Ron was enraged. Harry was heartbroken.
When Harry told her that he would jump out a window for her, she could have laughed in his face. But the look he gave her told her that if she laughed, he would do it. But now, fifty years later, he still hadn't killed himself: tied his life to hers. If she died, he would die. Hermione closed the curtains and changed into a nightgown.
But she did not go to sleep just yet. In fact, she sat in bed wondering why Harry would commit his life to stay with her until she was dead. She may never know, but she did not believe in the whole true love thing anymore. Neither did Harry, so the only theory she could come up with was that he believed that she would come back to the light.
HA! As if! Hermione closed her eyes and laid down on the bed. Morgoth looked up and tilted his head to the side.
"Well, Morgoth, the old fool will die if I die."
Impossible notion, my daughter. Do you really believe that he loves you enough to perform a soul binding spell?
"A soul binding spell…yes…Harry—"
Gandalf, my dear. His name is Gandalf.
"I do not think of him as that. He has been my friend many years before now, Father. Give me the chance to go to war. To meet the fools!"
Not yet! We do not want the men and elves to know that the Dark Lord is a woman. Shanghai the fools into your service.
"Harry is no fool."
Saruman, I mean. Take control of him, control him as if he were a pawn.
"How? Saruman is not a fool either."
I know that; it'll take time to possess him. To trick him into service.
"I'll try, but we have a great rivalry dating all the way back to school." Hermione said. Morgoth fell silent and laid his head down on his paws, thinking.
Wait until the opportune moment. When all least expect it. When he least expects it.
Hermione smiled at the cat and went to sleep…
Morgoth waited till she fell asleep to stray away from the tower and explore the domain his adopted daughter created. He was bowed to by the slaves she created and was impressed by their abhorrent, monstrous beauty. The nine were now robed and aging into monsters. The only one who seemed to take up his duty better than the rest of the nine was the Witch King of Angmar, Viktor Krum.
There was also the torture chambers; underground and hidden from the eyes of the Delicate Dark Lady/Lord Sauron. The Orcs named her delicate because of her petite frame. But that was on rare occasions that anyone saw her in anything other than armor anymore. Sometimes she would wander in the woods in a simple winter robe that clung to her frame.
Morgoth began to change when the moonlight hit him. In the cat's place was a fiery eyed man with long black hair (Hellsing fans out there, think how long Alucard's hair was at the beginning of the series for this; that's how long it is.) and a handsome build. He was robed in black armor and a robe billowed from behind in the wind.
This is the Father of the Leader of the Black Order: a demonic creature that was as soulless as Voldemort. He had a firm control over his adopted daughter and hid himself behind the green eyes and fur of a cat. The Black Order was growing. Hermione was almost ready for battle. And Morgoth was not going to let anyone get in his way of creating a new world of destruction under the rule of his dear, abhorrently beautiful daughter Hermione.
Yes. She was the perfect leader. The perfect Queen. The Black Lady of Mordor and the Dark Lord of Middle Earth.
