The Dark Witch

P.O.V. – Maria Le Fay

It was a darker forest than I remembered. The trees effectively hid any light the moon and stars might offer. Night seemed to pound at me from all sides. I could hear many creatures gathering around me, eager for my blood. I couldn’t blame them, I had done so many terrible things. I adjusted my large black hood, pulling it further over my face, as an icy wind cut through my skin.

Even the elements hated me. Well, all except one. I stretched my right hand out in front of me and formed a flame on my palm, lighting my path of leaves and brambles for a mere moment before I extinguished it. Even though the creatures seemed to know who I was, it would do me no good to my reveal all abilities to them, though, I surmised, they probably already knew.

I would never admit it, but I was frightened. I was risking everything. A shiver suddenly went through me, as I saw the gleam of familiar red eyes in a nearby bush. I shook my head, surely I was imagining things...

Cautiously I stepped off the path towards it. My right flaming hand outstretched, providing me with light, or if necessary, a weapon. I chuckled to myself, as I reached forward to examine the two glowing red circular objects, berries, not what I had feared. The darkness can be so deceiving...

I backed away from the bush and set back out on my path. A mixture of feelings hitting me. Years ago, I would not have been scared by a bush. I thought condescendingly. Years ago, you wouldn't even had come here, countered another thought. That was definitely true.

My mind drifted off as I walked, the eerie shadows meaning nothing. As I briefly revisited the past in my thoughts, my pleasant past. A smile flittering across my face, as I realized, an image of the love of my life, Sirius Black, coming into focus in my head, I had gone soft. Worse yet, I loved being soft. Which brought me back to why I was tramping through the Forbidden Forest, I wanted to retain the softness.

A howl sounded from somewhere nearby, jolting me back to the present. I needed to remain focused, I thought firmly, if I ever wanted to go back to the life I had once had, a life without murder and lies. I drew in a breath and let it out slowly, forcing myself to remember why I was here in the horrible place. I felt an uncontrollable rage begin to threaten to consume me at the remembrance, and I decided it would be better if I focused on the basics: There was a threat to the people I loved. I was here to annihilate it. That was all that mattered.

Suddenly the vast forest of trees drew to a close, I had entered a small clearing, the very place I had been looking for. A ridiculously small man was already there pacing back and forth, his cloak barely covering his bulging stomach.

A surge of fury rushed through me, rage that I always felt when he entered my presence. I took a deep breath, I had to suppress it, I couldn’t risk killing him right now. It would ruin everything.

“Wormtail.” I spoke, barely concealing the hatred in my voice, as I snuck up on him. My old friend jumped a foot in the air, his wand that he had been clutching falling to the ground as he did so. I fought to hold back laugh. Peter Pettigrew never a more skilled wizard existed, unless of course, you startled him, said hello or any other word, challenged him to a duel, asked him to perform magic…

“Dark Witch…” Stuttered Wormtail as he turned to face me, a look of terror on his chubby face, I believe he was actually shaking…

I couldn’t help it, a smirk crept onto my face, “Afraid of me, Wormtail? Scared of an old friend?”

“Noooo, Dark Witch…” He stuttered, quivering worse than a leaf in the wind, before looking quite petrified, “I mean yes, Dark Witch…”

I laughed, “I’m not going to do anything to you, Peter.” Not yet, anyway, I finished in my head, “I just wanted to speak with you about something.” I paused, struggling to gain control over my emotions, mainly the one involving rage, “Something dear to me. Pick up your wand, Wormtail.” I cut my train of thought off sharply, anger getting the best of me as I stared at the man who dared… “I want you to at least have the chance to defend yourself if this meeting goes wrong.”

Peter nodded, his eyes saucers as he reached down to grasp his wand in his overly large fingers, then, with great effort, he raised himself back up to face my deathly gaze. If only I could risk the Avada Kedavra…

“Very good, Wormtail.” I said softly, my voice hissing like my father’s did when he was angry, “Now I need to discuss your being secret keeper for the Potter’s. Do you plan to hand them over to my father?” I asked my question quickly, wanting to hear Peter’s answer to the question that would either grant him protection from me or his swift death. My lips curled into a sick smile at my next thought, if he answers this wrong, no way will I kill him quickly, I’ll torture him to hell and back before I let him die.

Peter’s expression was one of indecision, not of his real answer, but of what answer he should give me. He didn’t trust me, I had expected nothing less.

“Peter,” I began in a sickly sweet voice, struggling to contain my anger, “If you do not give me an answer now I will torture you into oblivion!” The last part had turned into a shriek before I had even realized I was yelling at him.

He paled considerable at my words and backed away from me, my eyes flashed. I felt my self control slip away. I charged at him, and grabbed his left arm firmly in my hand, reveling in his squeak of fear as I rolled up his sleeve revealing his dark mark, my father’s brand.

“Let me rephrase the question, are you going to ‘honor’ your duty to my father as a death eater or,” I paused taking in a shaky deep breath, “are you going to protect your friends who would die for you without a second thought!” I released him and gave him a hard shove in the chest pushing him into the trunk of a large oak tree, “Answer me, Peter! Or I will kill you!” I whipped out my long slender wand and pointed it at his heart, “Tell me!” I hissed.

“I…” The quavering man stuttered, “I was going to protect them!” He squeaked, fear shining through his eyes, “I would never hand them over to the Dark Lord!”

My eyes narrowed, he was lying, I could see it in his eyes, “Avada” I began as he cringed, whimpering like a fool, I heard a sudden rustle of leaves from the back me, I froze, there was no wind. Someone was there, behind me, watching my every move. Forgetting Wormtail, I turned away to face whoever it was and kill them.

I took in a quick scope of the scene, it was eerily quite, not even a animal was present, only shadows. No one was there...

A loud pop sounded from behind me. I felt myself flush with rage and I turned back around to face the empty space where the traitorous Peter Pettigrew used to be. I let out a scream of frustration, not caring who heard me now. I had to protect James, Lily, and Harry or at least die trying, unlike my rat friend.

“Maria,” Said a silky hissing voice from behind me, I froze, paralyzed, “Don’t you owe your father a little more respect?”

My heart stopped. Peter had set me up too, just like he had Lily and James.

“Arranging a meeting with one of my death eaters and not expecting me to find out about it? My dear, I didn’t know you thought so little of me.” Their was a mocking edge to my father’s tone now, and I knew better than anyone what that meant. He was toying with me, toying with me like a cat does to a mouse.

I took a deep breath, he was going to kill me. He wasn’t even going to think twice. The fact that I was his daughter and only child mattered nothing to him, my upbringing had made that painfully clear.

I steeled myself, ironically, the way he had taught me. I would not go down easy, I thought, and I wheeled around to face my father, the only being alive who could possibly defeat me.

P.O.V - Becky Sinclair

My eyes popped open, my heart was racing as I lay in a pool of my own sweat. Fresh fear still flowing through me, I didn’t even acknowledge my surroundings, I was too petrified.

“Good Morning, Becky. Glad to see you finally woke up.” I heard the voice of Mrs. Lankins say to the left of me. It was then I began to realize, I wasn’t in my stone prison anymore, but in a tiny colorfully accented bedroom full of light, lying in a comfortable bed with Mrs. Lankins sitting beside me clutching her short stubby stick that shot water at me every five seconds.

“Where am I?” I stuttered out, brushing the latest amount of water off my face, “What did you do to me?”

The old woman smiled, “Just relocated you, Becky. Just relocated you.” She repeated, smiling wider as her stick doused me with another round of water.