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The Purple Black
Nymphadora didn't speak as Barty grabbed her arm, disapparating the pair of them to the boundaries of the graveyard of Little Hangleton. The man's eyes met her own as for a moment time seemed to still, unspoken words of what was to come passing between them. Barty let go of the girl, snapping his gaze away from her as he nodded towards the graveyard. They walked in silence to meet their comrades. As they reached the graveyard's edge Nymphadora looked to see her Aunt catch her gaze, with a quick glance back to those surrounding her she ran to meet her niece.
"Well?" Bellatrix breathed, a crazed look in her eyes that Nymphadora had not seen too often before now.
"Well, what?" Barty grunted.
"Well, what of the boy?" Bellatrix hissed, glaring at the man for a moment before she looked to her niece, "Did he get back? What state was he in?"
Dora felt as if her throat had closed up, any sound unwilling to come out as she could not force herself to admit to her Aunt that they boy was alive and near enough well. She dreaded to think how she would explain what had happened to The Dark Lord if she couldn't do something as simple as explaining it to her own flesh and blood. She was grateful as Barty stepped forward, half obscuring Bella's view from her.
"We need to report to The Dark Lord, Bellatrix." Barty hissed, "Where is he?"
"Did it work?" the words fell out of Dora's mouth without thinking.
A shadow of a smirk fell across Bella's dark lips, nodding back towards the centre of the graveyard as she looked to her niece. "See for yourself."
Barty strode forward, Dora tearing her gaze away from her Aunt after a moment to follow Barty. There were still a few men within the graveyard, some of whom Nymphadora recognised vaguely. She couldn't help but let herself smirk a little as she saw her Uncle Lucius, looking pale and slightly dishevelled as he spoke with Rodolphus. It was as she went to pass these men that Nymphadora groaned at the unexpected sensation of colliding into the back of Barty Crouch Jr. She went to right herself, though before she could the man had grabbed her arm and forced her to kneel on the floor beside him.
"My Lord!" Barty cried, "You have risen, I—"
"Where is the boy?" the cold voice of Lord Voldemort sent chills down Dora's back, though she risked raising her head as her curiosity got the better of her. It was a sight to behold. The man she had gotten used to resembling a small, weak-looking, disturbing half-creature was now nothing that she could recognise. The man was tall and thin, with no hair, his skin was of a pale hue that was near translucent and his eyes were a piercing red colour. As he stared down at her with those cruel eyes, his long fingers clasped tightly around his wand, Nymphadora Tonks would have sworn that the man was attempting to stare into her very soul.
"Well?" the man hissed with a tone of impatience.
"He is at Hogwarts, My Lord." Barty said, far more clearly and with a tone of confidence that Nymphadora was sure her own voice would lack at present.
"Yet you are here . . ." Lord Voldemort mused.
Barty took a moment before he dared speak again, "He brought back the corpse of the Diggory boy, Dumbledore and the likes were surrounding him—Potter was injured."
"Yes," Voldemort hummed, "a feat that I wish I could take credit for, though it was our dear Bella that near enough sliced the boy in half as the rest of my followers stumbled like a bunch of dim-witted trolls."
Dora forced herself to remain staring at the man, though a small giggle from behind her let her know that Bellatrix was listening in to their conversation and she was sure the rest of the graveyard was also listening intently for she could no longer hear the quiet murmurs of conversation previously present.
"So the boy lives . . . alive at Hogwarts under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore." Voldemort near enough whispered his words, making them all the more chilling to the young witch, "Yet here you two kneel before me. Tell me, why did you not pursue the boy?"
Dora could feel her insides squirming again, far more than they had that morning as she was sure whatever was wriggling in her stomach was about to burst from her chest and kill her dead. She remembered what Barty had told her earlier, 'if this is the wrong choice, it is your choice.' It was starting to look like what she feared had come true and this was the wrong choice. She went to open her mouth, taking a deep breath to steady her voice.
"Potter knew you were back, he was sure to alert Dumbledore the second he arrived at Hogwarts." To her amazement, it was Barty that spoke, looking directly at his Lord with confidence as the man raised a hairless eyebrow at him, "Dumbledore knew that I had been the one that placed the cup there, it would not have taken him long to blame me. The boy was surrounded as it was and I was unclear if you had succeeded in your resurrection. We did not know if it was safe to kill him or if you still needed him. Besides, he is yours to kill—no-one else's."
"You doubted my ability to use the boy for my resurrection?" Voldemort hissed, "Did you not feel the call, Crouch? The power of that alone should have been enough to alert you to my resurrection, look at your mark, is it not black as the night and full of power yet again?"
"I could not see the mark, My Lord . . ." Barty bowed his head.
Dora bit back a gasp as with a hiss of the cruciatus curse Barty was thrown to the floor, squirming in his pain for a moment or two before it was lifted nearly as quickly as it was placed. She stared at Barty with her eyes wide, forgetting that she was being watched until she felt the grip on her chin. Lord Voldemort twisted her head to look up at him, his long, sharp, pale blue fingernails digging slightly into her flesh as she forced herself not to show the fear she was truly feeling on her features. From the cold smirk of the powerful wizard now towering above her, she was sure that her attempt to hide her fear had been in vain.
"You agree with these comments?" Voldemort questioned, "You agree with the decision to leave Hogwarts? To blow both of your covers?"
"I—" Dora swallowed hard, "It's like Barty said; his cover was blown. If they searched the maze they would have found out I wasn't actually Flitwick . . . I thought it was best that you have two servants return to you rather than have us be killed or imprisoned attempting to carry out a task, the honour of which is yours and yours alone . . . My Lord."
Lord Voldemort considered her, his fingernails tracing her cheeks as she was sure she would have scratch marks to rid herself of later. Though she didn't flinch, she knelt before him unspeaking as Barty pulled himself to kneel again beside her. With a small grunt, and to her relief, the man released his grip on her. He stepped away, looking at both of them in turn.
"I must admit, you both have carried out a great task for me." Voldemort mused, "Perhaps without your help, Barty, we would not have made it to tonight. And Nymphadora, your part in ensuring that the boy made it to me—and that I had two loyal servants return to me was clearly instrumental . . ." the man paused for a moment before he gave a small nod. Barty raised himself to his feet, Dora hesitating for a moment before she copied him. She was almost grateful as she felt a tug on the back of her robes, her Aunt pulling her back to stand beside her in the small semi-circle that she was unaware had formed behind them. "You all stand before me, ready for service, correct?" Voldemort smirked as the crowd replied, Bellatrix cheering loudest of all, "Though some of you have already proven that your loyalty has never faltered," the man's gaze paused where Nymphadora stood with her Aunt and Uncle, Barty now stood on the other side of her and Peter Pettigrew clutching what Dora swore was a silver hand, "others are yet to prove this. Though, Lord Voldemort is nothing if not forgiving. So, let us move on from the past and look forward to our future, let us put a little more fear back into the Wizarding World as we put it to rights." Another cheer echoed through the crowd and Dora couldn't help but join in as her Aunt let out a laugh of delight. "Leave me, I have much to attend to, though be ready for my call."
Dora looked around the crowd, all disappearing one by one. She locked eyes with Barty Crouch Jr for a split second before he left. She was almost disappointed to leave as she followed Rodolphus and Bellatrix. As Bellatrix near enough danced her way through the manor, the other two occupants of the home following her without question as she burst into the drawing room and danced with glee around the room. The joy was contagious, and as her Aunt grabbed her and hugged her tightly before demanding that her husband was to dance with her and wandlessly turning the wireless on Dora couldn't help but feel her spirits lift. The fear and nerves of the day was a near distant memory. Though hours later when Bellatrix had tired herself from her dancing and taken her husband to bed, and when Nymphadora Tonks lay alone in the quiet of her own room she couldn't help but think of one particular wizard. Why had Barty stood up for her? Why had he taken the blame for the actions that led to them leaving Hogwarts? She fell asleep with those, and many more, questions on repeat in her mind.
Dora was sat in the library, stretched out on the plush dark green chaise longue as she flipped through a copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. She was almost bored after her Aunt had become suddenly busy as she was called to The Dark Lord, the woman had not had time for their usual training session. It was to be expected, both her Aunt and Uncle seemed rather busy of late, coming to and from the manor at all hours. If she was truly honest with herself she was slightly jealous. She had done enough for The Dark Lord so far, why was she not being called into action the same way they were? Dora sighed, twisting her violet locks around her fingers as she re-read the same paragraph again. She had been reading for at least a couple of hours when the door to the library creaked open. The metamorphmagus grinned as she saw her Aunt pop her head around the corner.
"Can we train now?" Dora asked, sitting up slightly and moving her feet out of the way as her Aunt came to sit on the end of the chair.
"We won't be training today," Bella shook her head, amused as her niece pouted, "I do like your enthusiasm though."
"Why can't we train?" Dora sighed, "I'm bored and you said that training was very important."
"I did." Bella agreed "It is."
"So if it's important, we should do it." Dora jumped to her feet, yelping in surprise as her Aunt grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the seat. She had to stop herself falling off the other side in her clumsiness and blushed as her Aunt let out a giggle at her expense. "Ouch."
"That didn't hurt." Bellatrix rolled her eyes with a smirk.
"You don't know that." Dora said, sighing as her Aunt raised an eyebrow at her, "Okay it didn't hurt, but still . . . mean."
Dora frowned, sitting back in the seat as a suddenly serious look came over her Aunt's features, the woman near enough whispering her next words "There are more important things than training today, Nymphadora."
"Like what?" Dora mimicked her Aunt's whisper, suddenly drawn in and eager to listen to every last syllable Bellatrix had to speak to her. Her Aunt moved closer to her, Nymphadora staring into her dark eyes as Bellatrix took her hand in her own.
"Today is an important day, Nymphadora." Bellatrix breathed, "The Dark Lord called upon me earlier, as you know, we have been discussing something very important—or should I say someone." Bellatrix grinned as Dora's eyes widened slightly.
"Me?" Dora asked, her Aunt nodding slightly.
"Yes, you." She laughed, squeezing the girls hand. "We believe it is time that you join the ranks of The Dark Lord—officially."
Dora's jaw went slack, her eyes now wide like saucers as she let out a small breath, "You mean, take the mark?"
"Yes," Bella smirked, amused at the girl's reaction, "I mean unless you don't want to." Bellatrix shrugged, letting go of the girl's hand and going to get up "And if that's the case I would speak now or—"
Dora quickly reached out, grabbing her Aunt's arm as she nodded frantically, "Yes. I mean, yes, I want to."
Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, the young metamorphmagus was near enough begging her to be able to join the Dark Lord. It was all the Death Eater could do to stop herself from bursting into laughter; a task she once thought would be difficult and took such care in preparing for was now made seemingly easy. "Good." was all Bella could bring herself to say without letting her amusement show too much.
"So . . ." Dora let go of her Aunt's arm, moving her hands to nervously twist them in her lap, looking down to stare at them, "What happens? What do I have to do?"
Bellatrix licked her lips, her eyes alive with malicious glee as she reached out one of her talon-like fingernails, hooking her finger underneath the girl's chin and gently raising her gaze to look at her. Their dark eyes met and the older witch made the most of the anticipation in the air before she finally lowered her finger and began to speak so quietly that the girl had to lean in to hear. "He will be here in one hour. Traditionally, the inner circle are called to witness such an event. Your Uncle and I included, of course . . . You have already proven that you have the ability to serve him. Though you must prove that you are willing to do anything for his cause."
"I am." Dora breathed.
"I know that." Bellatrix continued, "So this shall be a simple task for you . . . You have already been taught the unforgivable curses, I taught you myself so I have great confidence in your abilities. But the time for using such spells on small animals and vermin are gone. You have only used two of the unforgivable curses on a person . . ."
". . . Who must I kill?" Dora asked, trying and failing to keep the slight nerves from her voice.
"Does it matter?" Bella asked.
"I suppose not." Dora murmured.
"Killing a man is easy, Nymphadora." Bellatrix hummed, "It's only petty scum . . . You're doing them a kindness really, such filth walking around the place—they will only be killed or worse when the Dark Lord truly comes into power. Though it is always best to 'put on a show' in such circumstances."
". . . You've killed before, haven't you?" Dora asked, though she didn't need her Aunt to speak to know the answer.
"Yes." Bella nodded. The younger woman was almost grateful as her Aunt reached her hand to cup her face, her thumb stroking her cheek in an almost reassuring fashion. "It's simple, like putting out the last flame of a candle or squashing an irritating bug. The first one is always a little different . . . Can you do it, Dora? I believe you can. But do you believe in yourself?"
"Yes." Dora nodded, if her Aunt thought that she could do it, then she was sure she could.
"Nymphadora," Bellatrix gave the girl a reassuring smile, "I have every faith that you are more than capable. You have come so far, from that little girl I met in Diagon Alley. You have shown that you are willing to do everything and anything for freedom from those who doubt you, respect, power . . . As I have said; I don't doubt you, Dora. You will do great things in his service . . . I'm already so proud of you—Don't disappoint me."
Dora felt calmed by her Aunt's words, assured that she would not only be okay but she would be brilliant. All nerves had temporarily left her. Though as she stood outside the ballroom of Lestrange Manor, knowing who was inside waiting for her and what was about to happen, she couldn't help it as the nerves came back to squirm in her stomach like serpents. She gripped tightly onto the skirts of her pitch-black dress, unable to help but catch her gaze in the grand mirror a little way down the corridor. She looked the part, thanks to her Aunt. Her hair was a light shade of silver pulled neatly into a plat, it was Bella's suggestion to choose such a colour as she said if the girl got scared and accidentally let her hair go white it would be less noticeable to the group at large. Though she knew such a thing would never go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. Dora placed one hand on her corset as she closed her eyes, taking slow and steady breaths to try and calm herself. A little grin played on her red lips, for all of her nerves she could not help but be excited by what laid before her. It was as she was smiling to herself that she heard the doors to the room open and she snapped her eyes open to meet her fate.
The grand room was much darker than usual, with few sconces lit towards the end of the room. Dora walked dutifully towards those waiting for her. The Dark Lord stood, regal in his stature, at the head of his servants who had lined up either side of him to stare down at her. The young metamorphmagus gazed briefly at those either side. All were dressed in their dark formal robes, masks obscuring the most of their features. Though there were some that she could recognise, her Aunt was the only woman in the room stood to the right of her Lord with a smirk gracing her dark lips, there was no doubt the taller man beside her was her husband. Her Uncle Lucius stood next to a cloaked figure to the left of Voldemort, Dora able to recognise him from the flecks of silver blonde hair protruding from his hood. Though as she stopped a few feet from the man she was soon to call her master there was no drawing her gaze away from his cold stare, unable to attempt to recognise the rest in the room.
"Nymphadora . . ." her name on the man's thin lips sent a shiver down her spine, though she stood tall, determined to seem strong, "You come here, wishing to join my ranks, correct?"
"Yes, My Lord." Dora spoke without hesitation.
"You are ready to serve me?" Voldemort cocked a hairless eyebrow, "To unquestionably do as you are instructed without hesitation?"
"Yes, My Lord."
Voldemort considered the girl for a moment, his penetrating red eyes running over her stature painfully slowly before he gave a slight nod. Dora didn't dare break her gaze as a man broke off from the end of the group, though from the corner of her gaze she could see him pull back to a discrete corner to something hidden in the shadows. "You have proven your worth so far—or else you would not be stood here. It seems, despite the filth you come from, you have forsaken that heritage to become a potentially useful and loyal servant." Voldemort paused for a moment, the man Dora now recognised to be Pettigrew from the flash of his silver hand had dragged the lifeless form of a dishevelled witch to her feet. Though still, she dared not to break her gaze from The Dark Lord. "We must not all be judged from where we come though, should we, Nymphadora?"
"No, My Lord." Dora spoke with confidence, "I can assure you I am nothing like my parents, I left them behind me many years ago."
"Good . . ." Voldemort slipped his wand from within his robes, the flick of the wood barely noticeable as the witch before her began to stir on the floor, "You have proven that you are willing to use unforgivable curses, though your Aunt tells me there is one you are yet to use on a person. To join my ranks, you must prove that you are willing to do anything . . . Our guest tonight, is Miss Enid Smith. Now, Miss Smith is a mudblood—" a few of the men in the room hissed at the word, Bellatrix herself perhaps loudest of all, "—she has been working for the Ministry. We have all the information we need from her now and it would be foolish to let her return . . . I care not how you kill her Nymphadora, just get it done."
Nymphadora gave a nod, drawing her wand as she finally looked down at the victim by her feet. The woman already looked as though one of The Dark Lord's followers had had their fun with her. Her lip was split, her dirty blonde hair matted with blood and from the way she tried to push herself away from her Nymphadora guessed that at least her leg was broken.
"Please . . ." Enid stared up at the girl begging as she continued to shuffle away, screeching in fear mingled with pain as with a subtle spell from Bellatrix she was given a push back to Dora. "Y-You're Nymphadora?" the woman snivelled pleadingly, "Nymphadora Tonks? I knew your father! I was at school with him! He was a good man, he wouldn't want you to do this nor would your mother, she—Ah!" screams of agony echoed off the walls as the woman twisted and turned on the floor, clawing at her own face to try and escape the pain of Nymphadora's curse.
It only stopped as Dora stormed over to the woman, grabbing her by the hair and bringing her face close to her own as she hissed "They are no parents of mine, I do not associate with that family anymore." Dora glared furiously as the woman whimpered in her grasp, though she didn't relent, "do not tar me with the same brush as them." She looked down at the woman, letting go of her hair as she let her crash to the floor with a sickening thud. It was then that her Aunt's words echoed through her mind; put on a show.
She struck her wand down hard and fast, flinching as the large cut she had caused across the woman's cheek was created with such force that blood splattered on her face. Though she did not care, she knew what she had to do. It was if the rest of the world melted away from around her, thinking only of her task and how to carry it out in the best way possible. She made use of nearly all the dark curses that her Aunt had taught her throughout her years. Enid screamed as a quick jab of a spell caused each bone in her already broken leg to shatter, cried out as the cuts and grazes over her body only seemed to deepen with a twist of the woman's wand, strangled cries escaping at each and every torment the girl put her through. It seemed as if hours had passed, though in truth it was only minutes, as the older woman lay taking in shallow breaths with a glassy-eyed stare unfocused on the grand chandelier swaying slightly above them. Nymphadora paid no mind to the blood pooling around the woman as she decided her task was done. She took one last look at her distraught features as she whispered the deadly spell; "Avada Kedavra" and for the first time in her life, Nymphadora Tonks had become a murderer.
It was as if she was pulled out of a daydream as the slow clap of Lord Voldemort echoed the room and Nymphadora looked up to see him smirking coldly down at her as he made his way towards her. She was panting for breath, barely realising how much energy such a task had taken from her though at the same time she was ready and raring for so much more. She couldn't help her small smile as Voldemort held his hand out to her over the body before her and asked for her own. She gave her left hand without thought, watching with bated breath as he turned her wrist to expose her bare forearm, his wand trailing up her skin until he pressed down hard. "Morsmordre."
She couldn't help but let out a hiss of pain. It was as if her very bones were on fire as the smoke like tendrils seeped from his wand and onto her pale flesh. She clenched her fist to steady the pain, digging her nails into her palm. Though even as she did this The Dark Lord drew away and she stared with wide-eyed awe at the skull and snake standing fresh and proud on her skin, the rush of dark magic thrumming through her whole body as she knew she was now his. Voldemort moved back to the head of the room and without needing instruction, the rest of his servants moved to stand beside their newest member. Their masks had now been removed and Dora couldn't help but grin back at her Aunt as she stood beside her, the small crowd turning to face their master.
"Well done, Nymphadora . . . I believe you have created quite a mess for your poor elf to clean up." He smirked as his followers chuckled at his comment, now looking to the group as a whole. "One more has joined our ranks and soon many more will also join us. We will find new comrades, as well as ensuring that those that have been so wrongly held for many years are returned to us. We will once again be feared as we take control of the Wizarding World." The group cheered, "Though for now, you must all go and carry on the charade of your well respected, innocent lives . . . Snape," Dora couldn't help but look at her old potions master, she had not noticed him before and was more than surprised to see him back among the Dark Lord's ranks, "you will take Pettigrew, keep him hidden."
"Yes, My Lord." Snape drawled.
"Rodolphus, Bellatrix. You were a force to be reckoned with at one time, you both, Barty, Rabastan . . ." Voldemort let his gaze rest on Rodolphus as the man could not help but show his excitement at the prospect of his brother, "take young Barty and soon I will ensure Rabastan joins you."
"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix and Rodolphus said in unison, Rodolphus adding his thanks.
"Now leave." Voldemort spoke firmly, "Bellatrix, stay."
Nymphadora did not miss the flinch of her Uncle, though as the others bowed and left the room she followed suit. She stopped outside the grand doors as they closed behind her, surprised to see her Uncle storming off ahead of her.
"Barty!" She hissed as the man took her shoulder and turned her to face her, "What are you playing at?"
"Well," Barty smirked, "I don't know where I'm going, do I? It's been a long time since I've been in this manor. Care to show me to my room?"
"No." Dora said firmly. "Ask the elf to show you to the guest wing—take your pick of the rooms for all I care."
"Charming . . ." Barty sighed, reaching out to the girl's face, "You have a little something." He grinned as he showed the girl his hand, blood from her face on his fingers, "You best get washed."
". . . I'll wait for Aunt Bella first." Dora said.
"You'll be waiting a while." Barty sniggered, "Besides, silencing wards or not, I don't think either of them will appreciate you listening in to their little escapades."
Dora frowned, "What—?"
"Don't be naïve." Barty rolled his eyes, "You and I know what they're doing in there just as much as Rodolphus—and the rest of us—do. Though I wouldn't mention it, I tried talking to Rodolphus about it once and it did not go well." He smirked as the realisation settled on Dora's face, "Not a pleasant thought, is it? But you did well in there, Nymphie. I'm impressed."
"Thanks." Dora blushed slightly as the man continued to smirk at her.
"You're welcome." Barty winked, before with a sigh he turned and walked away, "I'll see you later, Nymphie. I'll make sure to let you know what room I choose!"
Nymphadora Tonks rolled her eyes. She spared one last gaze at the doors of the ballroom (shuddering slightly as she thought of what Barty had just told her) before she turned off for her bathroom. She spent more time than she would care to admit resting within the bath, having to change the water once or twice as the bubbles seeped to red from the amount of blood on her skin. A smirk graced her lips though as she stared down at her mark, tracing her finger over the raised skin as she thought of all that was ahead of her in her life as a Death Eater.
So I hope you enjoyed that chapter, it ended up being a little longer than I expected. Please do leave a review if you have a minute, it really is you guys that keep me going with this story as I love to entertain you all and hear your thoughts! Anyway, thanks for reading!
The Purple Black