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Chapter 1: Introduction
Disclaimer- I don't evn know why we have to do this. I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER I ONLY WISH I DID. THAT IS WHY THIS SITE WAS MADE WAS IT NOT? SO THAT WE COULD MAKE OUR OUR LITTLE FANTISY VERSIONS OF J.K. ROWLING'S MASTERPIECE. Okay, I'm okay let's do this...
"Please, please I beg of you! I'll do better next time!" one of her father's faithful Death Eaters whimpered, cowarding at her feet.
"Are you actually asking me for mercy?" she scoffed.
"Yes! Yes! Please spare me! I'll do anything!" he cried looking up at her, attempting to look her in the eyes, which were concealed behind the hood of her shoulder cape that reached down to her nose. Nobody knew what her face actually looked like, not even her mother or father.
"Did you just look up at me?" she growled "You know perfectly well that unless I specifically ask you, you are not to look upon anything of me unless it is at my feet!"
The man, shaking with fear, looked back down at his knees mumbling apologies.
"Now you're just making my job way too fun," she smirked.
"I will serve you loyally! Spare me! Please! I much more potential!" he begged.
"If you were truly loyal, you'd gladly accept your punishment. By doing this, you make Wormtail look like my favourite." she laughed pointing her wand that her father had given her for her birthday that year.
The wand had belonged to the witch her self, Morgan laFay, the nemesis of the legendary Merlin. It was said to have the core of the mythical Golden Platinum Phoenix. Instead of the traditional wood, the wand was made of the black unicorn with a white horn's- that was only existent every four hundred years- horn. On the out side, it was intricately designed with the now nonexistent Arctic Gold, on the tip of the wand was a diamond covered pearl- the Never Pearl- it was said to be the last of the five ever created. This wand was her pride and joy.
"What are the charges of this man's unloyalty so that I can determine what to do with him." she snapped to no one in particular.
"Mistress, I beg your forgiveness, isn't it your father the one who decides the fate of the unloyals?" a woman, Narcissa Malfoy, stepped out tentatively awaiting the answer and punishment that was expected.
"No, since he is away for the remainder of the afternoon and my mother is much too soft, I am in charge. Unless you wish to challenge that. " the woman in the hood said almost too soothingly. If it were someone else, the other Death Eaters in the room might have laughed, hense the person speaking, colours drained from their faces.
"The charges?" she demanded growing impatient.
"Charges against Mr. Thomas Traverski are as follows," another one of the Death Eaters spoke reading from a scroll. "being caught stealing from the Riddle Manor; abusing the Dark Mark; sixteen accounts of absence when summoned; supporting the Light side and giving information to the Order of the Phoenix."
"And how do you plead?" she asked sweetly.
"Not... not... not guilty." Traverski whimpered once again.
"On what grounds?" the hooded woman boomed.
"I was under the Imperius, Mistress."
"Well the evidence is there and I'm getting bored. Do you know what happens when I get bored Traverski? I want to see blood and not just any blood, the blood of a victim under a little curse my dear friend, of whom I refer to as Uncle, invented when during his time at that pathetic excuse for a school," she spat "Hogwarts."
"No, please anything but that! I have a wife and family I need to be with," he begged once more.
"Liar! I killed them to teach you a lesson last time and now I'm done teaching!" she yelled "Sectrumsempra!"
The man on the floor screamed in agony as various cuts started appearing on his body, making it look as though a knife had been slashed at him several times. He closed his eyes trying in vain to block out the pain as he screamed. As he opened them when she casted the spell on him again, he could hear her laughing devilishly. Just before he slipped out of consciousness for the last time, he made one final move to look up at his former leader, the one even the Dark Lord himself came to fear at times.
The leader of the Dark Forces, despite what others thought, was a young girl, yes a girl. She would always have the same variation of clothes on, no matter who she was with. She wore a simple white dress, roughly reaching the middle of her thighs and over-the-knee high heeled boots. She always had her cape on, always concealing her face. Some thought that the young girl believed if one was to know about her true identity they would have power over her. Others thought that something had happened and it cause her top half of her face to become deformed; no one knew for sure. On her hands she wore white mesh, fingerless gloves, simple but elegant. She was the leader of the Death Eaters, people that specialized in the colour black. At first it was a skeptical look and now even the very description of her had the same effect as saying the Dark Lord's name.
She was after all the daughter of the Dark Lord, but she was even worse. She hated mercy and would never give any unless her father demanded it. Smiling at her accused when they screamed, yelled, bled, and begged for her to put an end to their suffering. It would only provoke her to to do more and not ease them of the pain. It was in fact her favourite pastime and nobody ever even dared to argue with her if her father wasn't there.
The girl was the best kept secret of all the purebloods and Death Eaters. She went by the name of the Dark Mistress.
A/N- While you guys are waiting for the next chapter to come up, please read my counter-parts' story 'Karma is a Fickle Friend'