The Evolution of Evil
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Harry Potter series written by the fabulous J.K. Rowling. I do not make any money from my fanfics. It is just for a bit of fun.
Warnings: This will turn out to be a slash fanfic, meaning there will be male/male pairings. Along the way there also will be Dumbledore bashing. I have decided the pairings but it will be a surprise.
Summary: "Hissy, hissy, little snakey...Slither on the floor, you be good to Morfin or he'll nail you to the door." Every story has an ending...but what of the beginning? Let me take you back before Harry Potter, Before the Prophecy and before the rein of Lord Voldermort and his death eaters.
Merope Gaunt lived all her life by three rules.
One: Don't be seen nor heard.
Two: Stay away from Morfin, as he was insane and highly unpredictable.
Three: Cooking, cleaning and washing if not done expect abuse.
If she didn't follow one of these rules her father Marvolo and brother Morfin would take notice of her and then she would be slandered, physically and mentally abused in the worst possible way.
Merope hated her life, her heart was filled with sorrow and all she ever dreamed about was being set free.
Like a bird, I wanna be a bird so I can fly away and never come back, never have a care. She thought desperately.
With a heavy sigh, Merope looks down at the novel she has been reading before her mind turned to reflection. She was reading about handsome men who rode white horses, saving damsels in distress and then having a happily ever after in a place called Camelot.
A scoff escapes her mouth without her permission.
Like that is ever going to happen to me. She thought miserably.
A nose outside drew her attention and she looks threw the dirty window, squinting her eyes to see better. A soft glow seemed to surround them drawing Merope's cross eyed brown eyes even further.
The first thing she noticed was the familiar beautiful brown Albanian horse, it was a fine looking animal well kept she thought to herself; her eyes seemed to look up from the animal on their own accord as though they were being forced to look there. Sitting on the horse was the man that rode by each day at exactly the same time; Merope liked looking at him as he was the most attractive man Merope had ever laid eyes on.
Her eyes grew dazed and she sighs in appreciation and as quickly as the fantasy crosses her mind a hand wacks her straight across the face and she tumbles to the floor in a painful heap.
A groan escapes Merope and she cradles her face in the palm of her hand, tears gather at the corner of her eyes but she holds them back; it would only do her more harm than good.
A bellow of laughter from above her made her look up into the silver eyes that belonged to her brother Morfin. Her breasts were heaving in fright and she let out a soft whimper.
"Alwaysss knew you were a filthy muggle-loving whore." Morfin hisses out in disgust his face sneering down at his sister; he lunges forward making Merope flinch back; he quickly stops and laughs mockingly at her.
"You jussst wait till Father hears, you'll be in for it then won't you whore!"
"What has the dirty squib done now Morfin?" Marvolo demands as he walks in to the kitchen.
An evil smirk crosses Morfin's face and he crosses his arms across his chest and leers down at Merope.
"She wasss looking at that muggle again father! She likes looking at that muggle. Alwaysss in the garden when he passesss...peering through the hedges at him, isn't she? And lassst night...Hanging out the window waiting for him to ride home, wasn't she? But I got him Father! I got him as he went by and didn't look so pretty with hives all over him, did he Merope?"
Before Merope could say anything Marvolo had her by the throat pressing her back into the hot stove top making her cry out in pain. His eyes were gleaming with hate and disgust.
"Is it true? My daughter – pure-blooded descendent of Salazar Slytherin – hankering after a filthy, dirty-veined Muggle?"
Merope struggled in her Fathers grasp, her legs and arms flying ungracefully in every direction; her face had started to change a different shade of colour and she was struggling for air, darkness pressed against her eyes tightly and the last thing she remembered was seeing her brother fly backwards.