Not gonna lie, this idea hit me like a trainwreck during the last chapter of "In the Coils of a Serpent" and has refused to leave me alone, so here we are again. So, I'm just going to say this is mainly an AU of that fic with a few changes. First off, there was NO PROPHECY very important to understand that. But no prophecy means no Voldemort attacking the Potter's on Halloween of 81. Which means, Voldemort won in the end, and has been the single ruling figure in Britain for the last ten years.
So, allow me to welcome you all to a story I like to call, Withered Red Lily.
A Coils AU.
On with the show.
Voldemort, Hogwarts, April 14th 1992.
After orchestrating a bloody coup of a government body, one would think actually running it would be the fair easier part. But sadly, no. After becoming the de facto Queen of the British Islands and putting the Muggle Royal family and every Prime Minister since under her control, it has been a non-stop flow of things that required her attention. If it wasn't helping changing registration and law to support how she wanted her kingdom to work, it was dealing with each individual department to make them actually do their damn job or putting up with the whinging of the Pure blood families about how she was being "unfair".
It was all rather exhausting honestly.
It was why she had put off her inspection of Hogwarts and its curriculum for ten long bloody years. So much to do, so little time in the day to do it, but today was finally the day she would get to inspect her old home. She had arrived just outside the gates, she could have just teleported into the school seeing how she changed the ancient wards herself years ago after her final battle with Dumbledore a decade earlier. But she had only changed it for her and not the two black cloaks traveling with her. The Black Cloaks was the organization that replaced the Aurors after she had dispaned them, they were her police force that were modeled off her former Death Eaters, and had quite a few former members in their ranks as well.
And everyone feared the Black Cloaks, the sword arm of the Queen.
Voldemort walked up the gravel path to Hogwarts at a meandering pace. She had her eyes half closed and a small smile on her face as she was enjoying the cool spring day in Scotland. The smell of rain on the wind, and the cool wind on her face was one of her favorite types of days. Voldemort opens her vivid crimson eyes to take in the castle in front of her with a smile, much of the old girl had been repaired over the last ten years since the final battle. Voldemort had made sure Hogwarts got all the funding it needed to return it to its former glory, so long as the school fell to heel that is.
And to her honest surprise, it did.
After the Phoenix Accords that pardon every Auror and member of the Order who signed it, and the death of Albus Dumbledore. The current headmistress of the school signed the Accords, making sure the school she had fallen in love with would have some protector against her. And she could respect that, that's why an honest smile broke out across her face when she saw Minerva McGonagall standing on the steps of the front entrance of Hogwarts. She was dressed in stately emerald robes and a pointed witches hat with her hands folded behind her back, the formidable witch had a pinched look of barely restrained disgust and hatred for her causing Voldemort to grin.
"Headmistress McGonagall, it's been too long," Voldemort says with cheer as she raises her hand and waves to the younger witch, though just by looking at them you wouldn't be able to tell Voldemort was the elder of the two. Her Majesty didn't look a day over thirty thanks to a few wonderful tricks she had learned over the years, as she was far too vain to show her age over her beauty.
"Perhaps not long enough, your Majesty," McGonagall said with a bit of heat as her eyes narrowed at the Queen. McGonagall had always held a disrespectful tone toward her in the years following the Blood War. But the old matron of the House of Lions had lost her fangs and teeth for all McGonagall could do now was bark and never bite. It amused Voldemort to no end to watch the once prideful woman fall so low to bow her head as she could do nothing as Voldemort ripped the Mudbloods from the classrooms and snapping their wands before obliviating their memories away.
It always brought a smile to Voldemort's face. But the first round of the Muggleborn children that were stolen away at birth and given true magical upbringings were starting to attend this year, and Voldemort was eager to see how they did. Narcissa wouldn't shut up about the one she got, apparently the brat devoured books like they were chocolate frogs.
"My, someone is snippy today," Voldemort says as she makes her way up the steps, stopping in front of McGonagall. "I do hope you've gotten everything ready for my inspection, if nothing else. I would hate to find anything going against the standards set for the school to the point I would need to voice my…Displeasure," she hisses out the last word with a cruel smile blooming on her face, and watches with a vindictive and disappointing glee as McGonagall's eyes fall to the ground.
"Of-of, course not, your Majesty," McGonagall says, her voice having lost its hard edge and taken on the soft sound of defeat. Voldemort's smile twitches, she wants to frown, she wants McGonagall to put up a fight. But the old lion had lost her fangs and claws, only roaring in her captivity fruitlessly. Voldemort sighs, rolling her eyes behind McGonagall's back as the woman turns and heads into the school with Voldemort following behind her.
As soon as she and McGonagall had entered the Grand Hall, something slammed into Voldemort's side, knocking the wind from her. The two Black Cloaks begin to panic as they draw their wands and aim them at the pile of flailing limbs.
"Put those down! Put those down you moronic buffoons!" McGonagall snaps at the Black Cloaks as she steps in between them and the pile. "It's a child! Put them down!" She says with a protective heat to her voice.
"Oh- Sorry!" The young voice of a boy could be heard as Voldemort shoves the child off her before standing back up, dragging the child with her. "Sorry! I didn't see you and I was taking the corner-" the boy tries to explain, his words coming out quickly all by dying in his throat as he sees who he knocked over.
"In all my years! Have I never been bowled over by a rampaging little troglodyte like you!" Voldemort snaps as she looks down at the boy with a fury, she is half a moment away from cursing the little shit when something stops her.
The boys emerald green eyes.
They had widened as he looked at who he had run into but unlike everyone else, they didn't widen with fear. But in realization, before they narrow in defiance and anger. As those eyes look into her vivid crimson eyes it reminds Voldemort of someone. She blinks and takes in the shape of the boy's face and the unruly black hair, the coke bottle glasses. The names are on the tip of her tongue, the eyes and the face resonating with the memories of the Blood War but before she could put names to them, the boy is pulled out of her grasp.
"Young man! What in the name of the Witch-Farther is wrong with you?!" McGonagall snaps at the boy before dragging him away from Voldemort's grasp. "You were told to stay in your common room until the queens inspection was complete. You will apologize this instant and then make your way back to your common room!" The Headmistress snaps with more heat and anger than Voldemort has heard in years from the old lion.
Voldemort does listen to the boy's apology, she was too busy trying to figure out where she had seen him before but couldn't put her damn finger on the names. So by the end of it, McGonagall sends the boy off with lost points and a week's worth of detentions. But as the boy walks away, he stops only once to look back at her with the same angry and defiant eyes, and once more, Voldemort couldn't put a name to them.
And it wouldn't be the last time she would see the boy.
Voldemort, Headmistress office at Hogwarts, February 19th 1993.
Enemies of the heir, beware.
The words inscribed above the very fucking bathroom that hid the Chamber of Secrets, a haunting and dramatic message left to all those who called the castle home. One made to strike fear in the hearts of the mudblood and the blood traitors, a warning that a retribution was coming for them all.
"Gods, how was I ever this dramatic?" Voldemort thinks to herself as she paces the length of McGonagall's office. Because she knew damn well just who the heir was, the problem was finding the fucking thing! Why Lucius thought it was smart to hand off her fucking journal to one of the Weasleys many crotch goblins, she had no fucking clue. She had already, personally, questioned the girl, the little bitch admitted to having the Journal but had gotten scared and tried to flush it down the toilet a few weeks ago. But it would take far more than a little water to destroy the book, so someone had to have the bloody fucking thing.
McGonagall had done the smart thing and suppressed the information that the attacks had happened so as to not cause a panic. But had done a good enough job that even she didn't know it was happening until Delphini had shown up for fucking Christmas and told Bella about it. Bella wasn't able to tell her for a few weeks more because they had gone to fucking Bulgaria for holiday by the time she learned it! Needless to say when Bella had told her, Voldemort had tortured both her and Lucius for their short sightedness, she had also taken Lucius' arm and leg and she wasn't giving them back anytime soon.
This era of peace and comfort for the Purebloods have made them soft and secured in their position, she had already decided to show the fools why one can never truly relax while in power. She had yet to determine how just yet, but she'll make sure it's bloody by the end of it.
But one problem at a time.
Her journal was in the possession of one of the students at the school, which was a problem. The journal was the oldest piece of her and the most dangerous, the psychopath that laid in the pages could not be controlled, even by her. It would trick, attack, kill, and eat anyone who she came across. It was unhinged to the most extreme way and Voldemort was just counting her lucky stars that none of the half bloods and Purebloods were killed and only petrified. As she would not be looking forward to the outcry to the whining and pouting families in seats of power at the Ministry if that was the case.
She had her Black Cloaks lead by Wormtail ripping apart the Houses and all the students' personal possessions until they found her journal. It was, at the moment, her top priority. This little move had McGonagall up in arms because of some nonsense about "Reasonable right to privacy in the school for the students," or some rot like that. But Voldemort didn't care, this superseded everyone else "basic human rights" or whatever nonsense that was.
McGonagall has wisely shut up after a short bout with the torture curse and a reminder she could and would be replace if she stepped out of line again. So the office had fallen into a silence as they both waited for news, and thankfully, Voldemort didn't have to wait long until there was a knock at the office door.
"Enter," Voldemort snaps before McGonagall could say a word. Voldemort was expecting one of her Black Cloaks to enter the room with her Journal. But no, the office door cracks as a pair of emerald eyes behind coke bottle glasses peek into the room. Voldemort hears McGonagall curse softly under her breath as the door opens all the way. Voldemort frowns as the sense of deja Vu hits her once more as the boy walks in, she had forgotten about the rude little brat that ran into her almost a year ago. But now, looking at him once more, she frowns. "Young man, you are supposed to be in your common room of your house until the Black Cloaks show up. Why are you here?" She snaps at him, but the boy doesn't flinch, just glares at her.
"Where in the nine hells have I seen those eyes before?" Voldemort asks herself, annoyed that she couldn't remember.
The boy walks into the office, his eyes filled with trepidation as he eyed Voldemort and closes the door behind him. "You're looking for something, right? Something to do with the Chamber of Secrets" the boy asks, and Voldemort notices that the boy barely has an English accent. She frowns, her eyes narrowing at the boy, inspecting him. He was young, second or third year at most, with a silver and green tie of Slytherin House that matched his eyes wonderfully. His eyes still held the fire of defiance in them, but he was hesitant about something, about approaching her most likely.
"Yes, I believe there is an item of an indeterminate origin that is being used to open it," Voldemort says, ignoring the scoff from the Headmistress behind her, as she watches the boy shuffle his feet back and forth.
"Would it be a book? Like a diary or a-" The boy says, one hand raising to rub the back of his head sounding unsure about what he was saying, but Voldemort quickly cuts him off.
"Journal, I'm looking for a Journal," Voldemort clarifies and narrows his eyes at him, as the boy frowns and nods his head.
"Yeah, thought it might be that," the boy says with a sigh before reaching into one of the pockets in his robes and pulling out the very thing Voldemort was looking for. "I found this a few weeks ago in the lavatory where the creepy message was written. I think someone had tried to flush it," he admits, avoiding looking Voldemort in the eyes.
Voldemort's eyes widen comically before she snatches the Journal right of the boy's hand. "You didn't write in this did you?" She asks quickly, almost hissing in Parseltongue but it was a near thing.
"Ah, yeah?" He openly admits with a frown. "That's how I figured out it was probably connected to the chamber somehow," he tells her as Voldemort panic doubles for a moment. But the boy was showing any outward signs of possession at the moment, so she let her panic fade to the background of her mind. "What did it tell you?" Voldemort asks only to have the boy narrow his eyes at her.
"How do you know it talked back?" The boy shots back, a fire of defiance in his eyes that if he was a bit older she would be tempted to snuff it out with a curse…or in between her thighs. Voldemort returns the glare as she swears that McGonagall had stopped breathing for a moment in worry.
"Do not question me, boy," she hisses the first part in Parseltongue before quickly switching back to English. "I asked you a question, now answer it," she demands.
The boy blinks once in surprise with a queer look on his face before sighing. "Sorry, your- your Majesty," the boy bites out with disrespect in his tone, still not making eye contact with her. "It just introduced itself before asking how I came across it, I told it before testing a few things and asking if it knew anything about the Chamber. Then…then it showed me a memory, I think," the boy admits, a frown on his face.
"What do you mean by tests? And what memories did it show you?" Voldemort demands, stepping forward to look over the boy threateningly.
"It said it was an enchanted object that remembered everything written in it, so I started asking it random questions about things. Things that had happened, current events, stuff like that and It knew a lot but it didn't know a lot of current events but then, then it went on a rant," the boy says with an even deeper frown as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"A rant?" McGonagall asks, her lips thinning as she speaks.
"Yeah, it went on and on about Muggleborns, the Catholic Church, and oddly enough, Horse Breeders," the boy says with a confused frown. "That's when I found out that it wasn't what it said it was," the boy says with a shrug.
"There is plenty of artifice that copies down thoughts like that, how did you figure this was different?" Voldemort challenges the boy with a raised brow. She was immediately interested, not many witches and wizards would have understood that tiny detail and had the spare logic and common sense to tell something was off. As they would have written it off as magic, as magic could accomplish anything, and while that was true, it still had rules.
"Because it wasn't just thoughts, it was an opinion. No matter how complex the charm or artifice, it can never have an opinion because that borders on giving something life, something magic can't do," the boy explains with confidence, uncrossing one arm and talking with it as he spoke. "Charms are a big part of artificing. It's what programs the magic to work in the function you want it to work but can't work outside of the programing. Like charming a Pineapple to tapdance, it's gonna tapdance but it's never going to do a waltz unless you change the programing of the charm. Even if you stack charms onto charms to create a more complex program, you can only stack so many before the whole thing collapses on itself." the boy says, before pausing, taking a deep breath to continue to explain before Voldemort holds up her hand.
"I know the pineapple explanation, you can make the pineapple do many things but sooner or later it will explode into chunks," Voldemort says as she turns to McGonagall giving her a surprise look with wide eyes before turning back to the boy.
"Well, it would be more Pineapple salsa," the boy says before a forlorn look overtakes his face. "Man, I miss Pineapple salsa," he says with a frown.
Voldemort looks at the boy for a long moment, her mouth hanging slightly open. "What year are you in?" She asks, a bit flabbergasted at the boy's in depth explanation of artifice and charms.
The boy immediately, and adorably, blushed and looked abashed at the question before shuffling his feet. "Second," he mumbles out and Voldemort blinks in surprise before turning to McGonagall with a glare.
"Really, second year and you're already so advanced," Voldemort says, still glaring at McGonagall. She had made it very clear to the Headmistress that any advanced students should be brought to her attention immediately.
"My mom taught me a lot," the boy admits with a shrug as Voldemort turns back to Harry with a raised brow.
"Your mother must come from a very old family to have such a deep understanding of magic to be able to explain such advanced theories to you," Voldemort admits and tries to figure out where she had seen the boy's features before.
But to her surprise the boy scoffs and rolls his eyes. "No, she just, like, super smart," he says with a shrug.
"Who is she? And your father at that," Voldemort asks, crossing her own arms like the boy and, to her great pleasure, she sees the fierce defiance in the boy's eyes be replaced with sheer panic. "And-for the love of Merlin, McGonagall stop! I can see you in the window!" She snaps as she turns to the Headmistress who was slashing her hand across her throat behind her back to tell the boy to shut up.
"Potter," the boy admits, causing Voldemort's eyes to shoot wide open as she slowly turns her head to look at the boy. "My mom and dad are James and Lily Potter," the boy says with a frown as he glares at Voldemort.
As what the boy says slots into place in her mind, the pieces fall into place of where she knew those eyes from. The look of rage and pain as Lily Potter had signed the Phoenix Accords as she glared at Voldemort only a few months after James Potter died at Voldemort's own hand.
Godric's Hollow, three days later, Voldemort.
Ten years. It had been ten years since she had heard the name Lily Potter, the name held little meaning to most of the pure blood families. It held a hell of a lot of significance to those who had fought on the front lines of the Blood War. Even before meeting the woman herself on the battlefield, two of her Death Eaters had informed Voldemort of the girl known as Lily Evans-soon-to-be-Potter. Lily, much like herself and Albus, was a generational savant with magic and while Albus was a savant in transfiguration and Voldemort one in Curse, Hexes, and Jinxes, Lily was a savant in charms.
But according to Severus and Wormtail, Lily wasn't satisfied with just being a servant in charms. No, that rare genius saw her adapt to any form of magic that she put her mind to, Potions, Warding, Enchanting, Transfiguration, Runes, and anything else she put her mind to. The last two years of the war were a slog thanks to that single mind on Dumbledore's side, not that the old goat was a push over either.
In the privacy of Voldemort's own mind, she could admit that her and Lily Potter were a lot alike. Both natural born geniuses that exceeded in all things that they put their minds too, both had comparable yet polar opposites skill sets. Both came from nothing and built upon their own brilliance and into something more, the only fact that separated them, was the fact she had won the war.
The last thing Voldemort had heard about Lily Potter was that she absconded with the Potter Family fortune to somewhere beyond her gasp. Which had done nothing but piss off some of the smaller noble families that had a relation or two to the Potter family and had hoped to snatch the fortune for themselves after she had killed James. It was, at the time, something upsetting to the Noble House and took over arguments in the government…for about four days. It was then the most noble and most ancient houses found out that the much more sizable portfolio and larger Black Family Fortune was retained from both the Malfoy's and the Lastrange families.
That had thrown the court into chaos for months.
It was discovered that the last Lord Black, Arcturus Black the third had reinstated his grandson Sirius Black the third as his heir after the disappearance of Regulus Black the second. Seeing that Sirius had been killed in the final battle of the Blood War (by Voldemort Herself) it led to a rather lengthy argument with both Gringotts and Arcturus on letting either Bellatrix or Narcissa's children inherit the Black Name. But all that did was cause the old dark codger to laugh in their faces before telling them that Sirius had named his heir in the will, and that the child would inherit everything.
Needless to say, Bellatrix killed her grandfather soon after in a rage, not even getting the name of the child out of him.
But in the end, Lily Potter had left the country and Voldemort had thought that was that, until she met her, admittedly, adorable son, Harry Potter. It had taken her a few days of digging in the Muggleborn registry to find out where the once freedom fighter now lives, but she had found Lily in the end. Hold up in a small cottage at Godric's Hollow of all places.
It was a quaint little stone home with grass growing on the roof of the two story cottage with a waist high stone fence surrounding the property. To any normal onlooker they would see just that, an idealistic cottage in the middle of a small Hamlet. But Voldemort was anything but normal, even standing right outside the gate she could practically taste the magic in the air. Wards wrapped around the property making it into a fortress of a home not seen since the closing days of the Blood War. While, normally, these kinds of wards would be against her law for any normal witch or wizard to create, the noble families were granted leniency in these matters due to old laws.
And the Potter's, no matter what happened in the last war, never lost their noble title.
The wards were firmly inside the law of the land and Voldemort could not argue that as her eyes scan the property. She could catch the almost invisible seams of magic that folded themselves like crystal in the sunlight, it was a breathtaking display of magic to Voldemort that showed a love of the craft in every etched rune.
"Fan out around the property, make sure no one comes in or leaves but do nothing else unless I call for you," Voldemort orders her Black Cloaks. When checking up on old Order Members she normally brought two of her Black Cloaks with her, just in case the Order member decided to regrow the spines she so thoroughly removed at the end of the war.
But, for Lily Potter, she had brought six. While Lily wasn't known as a duelist of any kind of renown, this wasn't open warfare on a field of battle. No, Voldemort was about to walk into the very heart of an incredibly powerful and intelligent witch's domain that Lily Potter had over two years to set up to her liking.
The Black Cloaks fan out around the cottage as Voldemort takes a deep breath, a shiver of pleasure rolling up her spine, she hadn't faced a challenge like this in years. She takes her first step past the ward line before pausing, wanting for any ill effects to befall her and to her annoyance, nothing happens. The wards were probably designed to let someone in, but leaving was probably up to the ward master. Voldemort huffs out a bit of disappointment before walking toward the door and raising her hand, but before she could even knock, a voice calls out.
"Just a moment please! I've got something on the hob, but I'll be right there!" the voice says, it was light and sounded like Narcissa when she was watching over her and Bella's spawn. Voldemort puts her hand down and waits a few moments before the door to the humble little cottage opens. She had, of course, gotten older from the last time Voldemort last saw her, though that did not detach from the natural beauty that Lily had. Her hair was still as red as the fires of hell that shines with a luster, her eyes still shine and sparkles like her son's, her lips still full and plump, fit to smile at any moment, and she still stood strong and proud.
"So, sorry about that, how-" Lily begins to say before her brain catches up with her eyes and she stops her words short as she snaps her mouth shut. Her eyes that sparkled with power and a fierce intelligence, now turned into the Killing Curse as they form a glare aimed solely at Voldemort. And much like her son, she had such defiance and hatred in her eyes.
Voldemort smiles at the sight.
"Good afternoon, Lily," Voldemort says as she slides her hand into the pockets of her slacks. "Lovely to see you again dear, may I come in?" Voldemort inquires, but all Lily does is glare at the woman, her wand in a death grip at her side. "Let me be clear, that last question was rather rhetorical. I'm coming in one way or another, I just thought I should be polite about it at the very least," she says with a smile.
Lily continues to glare at Voldemort before taking a small step back and opening the door wide enough for Voldemort to pass through. The Dark Lady steps into the cottage, her vivid crimson eyes never leaving Lily burning emerald ones as Voldemort slowly removes her hands from her slacks showing Lily she wasn't armed. They passed within inches of one another and the tension between the two literally caused a spark of magic to snap between the two witches, one both ignored.
As Voldemort slips past Lily, her eyes never leaving the younger witch, she takes a single step back into the sitting room of the cottage. Lily doesn't take her eyes off Voldemort either as she slowly closes the door behind her, wand in a death grip at her side. The two witches just look at one another for a long moment, unable to look away as the two enemies inspect one another after almost a decade.
"Only six?" Lily asks with a sniff as she turns her nose up at Voldemort, who chuckles at her question.
"Ten, if you include me," Voldemort shots back with a smile.
"Bit of an overestimation, don't you think?" Lily snarks at Voldemort.
"That is what I said to the last man who graced my bed, yes," the Dark Lady says, trying to crack a joke but Lily's lips don't even twitch.
"Anyone I know?" The redhead asks with a raised brow.
Voldemort only blinks once before replying. "The guy I fucked or the guards?" She asks, trying to hide her smirk the best she could, only for Lily to glare at her even harder. Voldemort rolls her eyes before actually answering the question. "No, no one you know. I thought better than bringing…, shall we say, certain parties, along?" She admits before finally looking away from Lily and around the sitting room of the house.
The sitting room was a boring mix of browns and orange that was trying to seem welcoming and comfortable. Large bookshelves dominated either side of the small fireplace on the far wall, the mantle of the fireplace was lined with photos of people long dead. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Alice and Frank Longbottom, and many other former and now dead members of the Order of the Phoenix. Very few pictures showed any sort of Muggle or Family relation and none showed the charming and bright-eyed young man she had met at Hogwarts. It was probably done on purpose if anyone like- well, her showed up to take a peak around so as to not tip them off that the boy even existed.
The sitting room led into an open kitchen that had many magical equivalents to many muggle kitchen appliances. The table had a chair on all four sides with a single chair pulled out, a small mountain of notes and a few open books either sat on the table or floated a few feet off of it and angled to where Lily could read them. On the hob was a small pewter cauldron bubbling away as it filled the house with a light floral scent with the window just above to hob open to vent out most of the fumes. There was a staircase that led to the second floor from the backside of the kitchen and an open door that looked like it led to a small lavatory.
"The rat," Lily says through gritted teeth that turns Voldemort's attention back to her. The visceral look of hatred on her face and burning like an inferno in her eyes had taken Voldemort back for a moment, she did look rather fetching with that look on her face.
"Yes, neither Peter Pettigrew or Severus Snape know you're back on the British Isles," Voldemort says, watching Lily flitch slightly at the last name, making her smile cruelly. After all, it was Wormtail's fault her husband and his friends were dead. Wormtail had betrayed them during the final fight and killed both Mad-Eye and Remus Lupin by cursing them in the back and heavily injuring Sirius Black as he froze in shock at the betrayal allowing her to finish him off with James Potter.
A small ding rings throughout the house, causing Lily's head to snap over to the hob before she looks back at Voldemort with a look of disgust. She sighs before stuffing her wand into her front pocket and walking back into her kitchen.
"Do you want tea?" Lily asks, her anger leaking into her tone, as she approaches the hob to attend her brew. Voldemort hums, pretending to think about it for a moment. It was a general rule of thumb that she doesn't accept any food or drink offered by her old enemies, especially one who was skilled at potions like Lily Potter was.
"No, but thank you for the offer," Voldemort answers diplomatically as she follows Lily into the kitchen before pulling out one of the chairs at the table and taking a seat. She watches as Lily methodically stirs her potion, adding a few things to it before lowering the heat. She fills up a kettle and puts it on the hob to boil, which causes Voldemort to raise a brow. "You do know that you could just-" Voldemort begins to say before Lily swiftly cuts her off.
"I very well know what I am capable of, thank you very much. But if you don't want tea, then I'll be making it my way and you can stay quiet about it in my home," the younger witch snaps at the Dark Lady without an ounce of fear and without even looking at her. Lily takes a deep breath before letting it slowly out to regain her temper. "What are you doing here?" She finally asks the million Galleon question.
"Heard you were back on the isles, thought I'd drop by and say hello," Voldemort says with a charming smile.
Lily snots dismissively. "That's a load of shit," she says scornfully, causing Voldemort to look at the younger witch in amusement. "I've been back on the isles following your bigoted ass laws that make me all but a second class citizen in name for the last two years," she says as she continues to glare at her kettle. "So, it's either you're losing your touch or your not-so-secret police suck at their jobs, but either way I doubt that's the reason you're here," Lily snips at Voldemort without even looking at her. Voldemort hums once more at the woman's biting words. They were refreshing in a way, where the vast majority of people were terrified of her, there were still a few who had bite to their words.
"The Noble families aren't going to like that you're back, someone then will be coming after the Potter fortunate that you're absconded with when you left the first time. If there's any of it left, that is," Voldemort tells Lily as she leans forward and props her head up with her hand and her other hand taps her three larger fingernails on the table.
"I didn't abscond with anything," Lily says hotly, as if she was insulted by the very notion of it. "James and I were married for three years before…" She pauses at her own words, her lips thinning in anger as her eyes begin to burn once more with the light of rage, a beautiful and terrifying sight on the young witch.
"Before I killed him," Voldemort taunts with a smile, a bait that Lily didn't rise too.
"My Lord Husband fell in battle, leaving me the Potter Family Portfolio in the wake of his death," Lily says hotly as the kettle begins to steam.
"That won't stop them from trying," Voldemort informs Lily as her eyes begin to wander around the kitchen once more, stopping briefly on Lily's shapely behind before moving on.
"They can try all they want, won't do them any good," Lily mutters under her breath as she begins to prepare her tea pot.
"This reminds me," Voldemort suddenly says, perking up at the thought. "You wouldn't happen to have Sirius Black's will, would you?" She asks, sounding interested for a moment as Lily turns back to her with a confused look on her face. "Something came up a few weeks after you left the isles, and while the Goblins confirmed the Will's existence and they have indeed notarized it to make it legal. They don't have it in their records, and we've looked high and low for it for years," she admits as she crosses her legs.
"Probably," Lily says with a frown as she begins to pull out two mugs, sugar, honey, and cream, slamming them on the table in front of Voldemort. "Should be somewhere in my paperwork in the attic," she admits before pouring the hot water into the teapot.
"Well, take this as an official order from the head of state, you are to find the Will and submit it to my office directly in the next two months," Voldemort says as she leans back in her seat to see if Lily would challenge her. But to Voldemort's surprise, Lily just shrugs unbothered by the order which disappoints Voldemort.
"Sure, but I don't know why you want it. Sirius didn't have a lot when- when he passed, his motorcycle, a little gold, and a few other personal effects but that's it," Lily says as she waits for her tea to seep perfectly into the hot water.
"Duly noted but it's still important that I get my hands on it," Voldemort tells her, sighing as she does before standing. "Well, I do believe this quick visit is over. Just remember your place in the hierarchy of my kingdom, mudblood," Voldemort says banefully, pausing only a moment to see Lily's reaction and to her disappointment the once fiery woman palpable in her tone. It seems that even the once great Lily Potter had lost her fangs and claws like the rest.
"Good," Lily says, watching Voldemort leaving with a glare at the woman's back. "And next time you're thinking about dropping in to mock me, do us both a favor and don't," she says with a frown.
Voldemort stops in the middle of the room, a slow cruel smile spreading across her face. "You know, I went to Hogwarts the other day," she says pleasantly as she hears Lily pour herself some tea without making a comment. "It's in fact how I learned that you had returned to the isles," she admits.
"Well, then it looks like I won't be informing Slughorn or McGonagall of any of my future plans anymore," Lily says under her breath as she adds a bit of honey and cream to her tea.
"It wasn't either of them who told me you had returned," Voldemort says as she turns back to Lily showing off her smile. "McGonagall actually tried to stop them from spilling the proverbial beans. No, it was a rather bright and charming young man," she says and watches with glee as Lily freezes, her mug half to her lips.
"It was your son, Harry. It was a rather calculated move on his part to avoid Pettigrew at the time, he…helped out with an incident involving a dark artifact of indeterminate origin. He'll be getting an award for special services to the school and will no doubt win Slytherin the house cup this year." Voldemort says as Lily slowly looks at her, fear and rage and defiance bubbling in her eyes. "You should be proud of the bright young man you've raised by your lonesome," she says with a smirk. "In fact, I think I'll go to the award ceremony on your behalf, seeing that you're not allowed out of your property. You know, give him a hug for-" Voldemort taunts her in malicious glee, reminding Lily that her and all the other Mudbloods like her are nothing more than a shame on magic itself.
But, suddenly in the middle of her speech, Voldemort's words die in her throat. Her eyes widen as the feeling of something snapping around her upper chest, pinning her arms to her side as the cold feeling of spikes nailing her feet to the floor. Hostile magic surrounded her with the intent to rip her apart inch by inch.
"Let me make myself very clear," Lily growls out as she places her mug down gently. "I don't care what you do to me, harass me, make me obey your stupid fucking laws, keep me in my house, I don't care. It doesn't bother me," Lily says as she stands from her seat and walks over to the trapped Voldemort. "Because at the end of the day, after Harry graduates Hogwarts, me and him are leaving this backasswards little island to never return. But don't you ever. Go near. My fucking SON!" Lily screams in the face of the most dangerous dark witch in the world.
Voldemort, ten minutes later.
Voldemort closes the door to the cottage behind her, but she doesn't relax until she crosses the ward line. She had made a mistake, a miscalculation, she had thought Lily Potter had lost her claws in the last ten years like also those Voldemort had defanged in the last ten years. But she couldn't be more wrong, no that particular lion had done nothing but sharpen her claws these last ten years. Voldemort straightens the tie she wore with her dark muggle suit with a shuddering sigh as her Black Cloaks approach her.
"My Lady," the lead Black Cloak says with a bow of her head. "Is everything okay?" He asks. Voldemort takes a moment to answer, turning her head to look back at the small, unsuspecting cottage only to see Lily Potter looking out of one of the windows at her.
"Yes, everything is fine. The Mudblood was just being a bit uppity," Voldemort says, sending a glare at Lily Potter as the redhead just smirks at her.
"Then shall we burn the bitch inside of her home?" One of the other Black Cloaks offers and Voldemort snorts out a laugh.
"Don't bother, I'd rather not have to find six replacements for the Black Cloaks in the near future," Voldemort tells them as she turns away from the cottage before she starts to walk away.
"My Lady, she's just one Mudblood," one of them says, sounding insulted by her insinuation. "I doubt the bitch could even put up a fight," he says with a sneer as he turns to the cottage.
Voldemort just shakes her head. "You wouldn't even make it to the front door," she states simply. "But you're welcome to try, the only thing you'd be doing is inconveniencing her when she's cleaning up all the blood," she tells them before stopping once more, looking back at the cottage to meet Lily Potter's glare with her own. She had thought she had declawed and pulled all the fangs out of the people who had once stood against her. That she had broken their will to fight in the face of her overwhelming victory that day ten years ago. But here in this forgettable little village, in a tiny cottage, she found one that hadn't lost their claws, spine, and willingness to fight.
Voldemort smiles when she looks away. "This is going to be fun," she thinks to herself as she and her Black Cloaks all teleport away.
Chapter done!
This was interesting to set up. On one hand we have my female Voldemort who had won her war and now rules the United Kingdom with an iron fist. But in the end, she found ruling as a chore and boring as fuck with no true entertainment for her and no true challengefor her.
Then you have Lily Potter, a woman who had lost everything at the end of the last war and when her side surrendered, she saw an out and took it. Now she's returned to her homeland for the fact that her son, who grew up with stories of Hogwarts, wanted to go there. She's a woman who would do anything for her son she loves and wants to be left alone for the most part.
This chapter sets them up as foils for one another, Voldemort being a sword and an unstoppable force while Lily is a shield and an immovable object.
Voldemort wants to see more of the claws and fighting spirit of Lily Potter, a witch by all reports could match her in power, so she'll set out to needle and goad her. She is going to get pity with it too, sending Severus to go collect her, setting up a meeting between Lily and Pettigrew, dragging Lily through court cases and fines just to see where her line is until…
Well, I'm sure you'll already figure out where Voldemort would go from there.
Yes, Delphini is in this, but no she isn't the same as the one in Coils or Heir to the Hunt, but an all around different personality.
Kingsaxcul, Out.