The Return of the Dark Witch

P.O.V – Maria Le Fay

“May I have a word in private, Dark Lord?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. I had to remain cool, detached. If I didn’t Sirius was as good as dead.

I was both pleased and surprised as my father frowned, but nodded his head. Foreboding filling me as he gestured me to follow him into a nearby adjacent room. I swallowed hard, following after him. I refused to look back. Not at Sirius, not at anyone. I was about to sell my soul, and no one was going to see the fear in my eyes.

I entered the room, holding my breath as my father turned to stare at me with his cold red eyes, expectant. I inhaled deeply, refusing to blink, “Let them go,” I began firmly, I could see the beginning of a smirk forming on his almost nonexistent lips, “let them go and I’ll give you what you want.” I paused, the hints of a smirk vanishing from his face, he was all business now, and so was I, “I’ll give you my light.” I swallowed hard, a small thin smile forming on my lips, “Just like you always wanted.”

My father frowned, staring at me hard, “For them?” He asked softly, I fought a flinch. I’d spent my whole life fearing that tone, but I nodded all the same. He smiled, tilting his head at me, “Ah, but you mean, for him.” I froze. His expression had not changed, “Your most prized possession for…love…” Said my father softly, “So like your mother,” He began to walk towards me, pausing to whisper in my ear, “foolish.” Then he exited the room.

I took another deep breath. I felt like all the air had left my lungs. I swallowed hard, wiping a stray tear from my eye, before turning and following my father out of the room. Knowing full what I had just done, just promised, and you know what? It was worth it, Sirius was worth it.

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I blinked hard, opening my eyes slowly. Taking everything in for a moment.

First question in my head, why am I on the floor? I blinked again, sitting up, rubbing my eyes as I looked over the dimly lit greenish room.

Oh yeah, right. Voldemort strangled me with my own flames. I remembered, my left hand leaping to my throat. It wasn’t burned, surprisingly, however, it was sore.

I slowly stood up, stretching as I did so.

I am never sleeping on the floor again, I thought firmly. I was in pain everywhere.

Silently, I limped over to the floor length mirror in the far right corner of my room. I looked like someone had strangled me until I passed out...funny.

I ran my hands through my hair and down my face, pulling on the thin bits of skin as I did so.

As much as I hated to admit it, pug face was right. I was way too skinny from the asylum. Sighing, I lowered myself back down to the floor, staring at my worn, young (why was I still young?) face. My night slowly coming back to me, my fight with Sirius, Voldemort, all of it…

“You will help young Draco in the mission I have given him. You will assist him in any way possible. Or I will make sure you never see Sirius Black again.”

So Draco Malfoy was working for Voldemort, apparently. It figures, everyone I know seems to be involved with him, me most of all.

I buried my face in my hands, placing my head against the ground, banging it slightly.

I didn’t have to think hard, I already knew he could do what he said; Voldemort could take Sirius from me, forever, and not in a good way. Not in the way he could finally rest, more in the way of eternal torment. That couldn’t happen, not while I breathed. Which meant I had to work with Draco and in doing so, I had to work for Voldemort, the man who had made my life hell.

I raised my face slowly, turning back up to look at my reflection in the mirror.

Sirius wouldn’t want me to do this, of course, like he hadn’t wanted me to leave him in the first place. He had made it very clear to me last night, that he wanted me to be Becky Sinclair. To forget about him, live out my life, and let him suffer. I couldn’t do that, not that Voldemort would let me if I wanted too.

I let out a dry laugh, running my hands through my hair once again.

So much had happened to me since only yesterday. If I wasn’t mad before…

I let out another chuckle, rubbing my inflamed throat.

Whereas last night I had felt numb, today I felt borderline lunatic. Fitting, very fitting. I can see myself now, first day of classes…

I froze, a horrified expression appearing on my face.

First day, classes, breakfast. Shoot.

I quickly looked around the room, clock, clock? Where’s a clock?

Finally I saw it, small and high above my large, I’m assuming it’s comfortable, I wouldn’t know, bed. The numbers nine, zero, and five glaring at me. Translating into, 9:05, five minutes after the bell rang for the first class.

My jaw fell slightly open, as I sat there horrified. After everything…

Abruptly, I stood up, racing out the door, grabbing the list pinned to it on my way out.

First class, private study with Professor McGonagall. Guess they had to test me out somehow.