‹ Prequel: The Dark Witch
The Return of the Dark Witch
Control
P.O.V – Maria Le Fay
“Again, Sinclair.” Said Professor McGonagall sternly, pacing back and forth opposite a desk, on which she had placed a single rock.
I took a deep breath, readying myself, as sweat dripped off my brow, “Avifors.” I said firmly, swishing my wand in the way McGonagall had advised. Once again, nothing happened, my wand barely emitted any sparks let alone the spell itself.
McGonagall sighed, staring at me almost sympathetically. While I lowered my wand, pursing my lips as I glared at the rock. I was supposed to have been one of the most powerful witches of my time and now I can’t perform even a simple idiotic spell to transform a rock into a bird.
“I think that’s enough for today, Sinclair.” Said McGonagall, causing me to look up at her, frustrated as she continued, “My only assignments for you are to keep practicing and read chapters one through six in 'A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration' if you haven’t already.” McGonagall stepped forward to pluck the rock of the desk as I stared at her, wordlessly, “We’ll be meeting back here tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp.” She gave me a harsh look, “Don’t be late.”
I swallowed hard, but did not back down from her gaze as she left the classroom. Leaving me alone with my anger. Thirty minutes and I had been unable to perform even the most simple transfiguration spells. Me, Maria Le Fay, daughter of Voldemort, completely devoid of any magical talent. I kicked the desk in front of me hard. How would I ever be able to save Sirius if I couldn’t do magic?
“Tisk tisk, daughter. You really must learn to control that temper of yours.” Said Voldemort from behind me. A chill going up my spine, as I turned to face him, wide eyed, my wand hanging limp in my hand. He smirked at me, tilting his head, as he stepped towards me, “Problems at school?” He asked in a voice of fake concern.
I frowned, angry. Hate surging through me, as I raised my left hand, coated in flames, towards his cheek. The only thing I could think to do. Voldemort, however, froze my hand in mid air, looking at me sternly, as he forced it back to my side.
He shook his right index finger back and forth in front of his face, shaking his head, as the flames on my hand vanished. I looked down at it surprised. How was he doing this? How was he controlling me? Was it all because of the…
Suddenly I was blown backwards over the desk, hit by a strong blast of fire. Fire which I am pretty sure emitted from me. I felt my back hit the wall hard, before I fell in a heap on the floor, the flames disappearing like they had never existed. Voldemort towering over me, “You want to know why, daughter? Why you no longer possess your magic, your abilities, the way you remember?” He moved his hand upwards, lifting my limp body up, and pinning it against the wall, “Because it’s all mine now. I control what you do. How you do it.”
I felt my hand that still, somehow, held my wand, begin to rise up. Pointing in the direction of a small fly in the far corner of the classroom. I heard my voice say unfamiliar words, “Avada Kedavra.” And watched as a blast of green light shot from my wand, hitting the fly, and causing it to fall to the ground, dead. My body shook in fear. My head beginning to hurt. A familiar pain, this scene was achingly familiar somehow. I fell to the ground.
Voldemort loomed over me, a harsh look in his red eyes, “Do you want it back, daughter? Your magic?” He smirked at me, “I know you always hated it when I took control.” He leaned down to brush my long hair out of my eyes, “I’m sure you remember the first time I tested that power.” Voldemort stepped over me, using his own wand to trace a pattern on my back, “How far I can make you go.”
My head was pounding now. The pressure and pain upon it great. A sizzling sound coming from my back, barely audible over Voldemort’s cold laughter.
Blackness overcoming me.
___________________________________________________________________
I was paralyzed with fear, as an invisible force pushed me down the dimly lit hall towards my beloved mother’s bedchambers. Tears were streaming down my face, my heart pounding furiously in my chest, “Don’t make me do this!” I shrieked, to a chorus of laughter from my father’s Death Eaters behind me.
I choked back a sob as I felt my body turn towards my mother’s door. My hand grasping the handle and pulling it open, “Please.” I whispered softly. I could now see the sleeping form of my mother on her small cot of a bed.
I entered the room, against my will, pulling my wand from my cloak. My eyes widening, horrified, as I pointed it at her still form. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come out. A beat passed and I heard someone enter the room behind me. Clapping their hands to light up the torches in my mother’s dungeon, causing her to roll over in her cot. Her beautiful brown eyes opened wide, her features drawn and pale. She smiled at me, a faint gleam of recognition in her eyes.
“Child.” She said softly, her voice hoarse. The word bringing more tears to my eyes. That was the only word I had ever gotten her to call me. She then looked over my shoulder, her face lighting up as she caught sight of the person behind me, “Tom.” She said breathlessly as I felt my hand raise my wand into the air, pointing itself directly at my mother’s heart.
“Avada Kedavra.” I heard myself say through my sobs, watching as a green light stole my mother’s life away, while I collapsed upon the hard stone ground. Curling myself into a ball, a hand pressing itself upon my shoulder.
“It seems the spell worked, daughter.” I heard my father’s cold voice, “You are now bound to me.” His cold laugh echoed throughout the room.
__________________________________________________________________
I opened my eyes to see Voldemort still above me, smiling.
“You have no choice to obey my every command.” He said softly, “You can do nothing without me.” Voldemort took a step back from me, slowly fading away, “I will give you some of your magic back for now, daughter. But remember,” He smirked, “it’s still mine.” Then, he vanished, leaving me alone in the classroom.
“Again, Sinclair.” Said Professor McGonagall sternly, pacing back and forth opposite a desk, on which she had placed a single rock.
I took a deep breath, readying myself, as sweat dripped off my brow, “Avifors.” I said firmly, swishing my wand in the way McGonagall had advised. Once again, nothing happened, my wand barely emitted any sparks let alone the spell itself.
McGonagall sighed, staring at me almost sympathetically. While I lowered my wand, pursing my lips as I glared at the rock. I was supposed to have been one of the most powerful witches of my time and now I can’t perform even a simple idiotic spell to transform a rock into a bird.
“I think that’s enough for today, Sinclair.” Said McGonagall, causing me to look up at her, frustrated as she continued, “My only assignments for you are to keep practicing and read chapters one through six in 'A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration' if you haven’t already.” McGonagall stepped forward to pluck the rock of the desk as I stared at her, wordlessly, “We’ll be meeting back here tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp.” She gave me a harsh look, “Don’t be late.”
I swallowed hard, but did not back down from her gaze as she left the classroom. Leaving me alone with my anger. Thirty minutes and I had been unable to perform even the most simple transfiguration spells. Me, Maria Le Fay, daughter of Voldemort, completely devoid of any magical talent. I kicked the desk in front of me hard. How would I ever be able to save Sirius if I couldn’t do magic?
“Tisk tisk, daughter. You really must learn to control that temper of yours.” Said Voldemort from behind me. A chill going up my spine, as I turned to face him, wide eyed, my wand hanging limp in my hand. He smirked at me, tilting his head, as he stepped towards me, “Problems at school?” He asked in a voice of fake concern.
I frowned, angry. Hate surging through me, as I raised my left hand, coated in flames, towards his cheek. The only thing I could think to do. Voldemort, however, froze my hand in mid air, looking at me sternly, as he forced it back to my side.
He shook his right index finger back and forth in front of his face, shaking his head, as the flames on my hand vanished. I looked down at it surprised. How was he doing this? How was he controlling me? Was it all because of the…
Suddenly I was blown backwards over the desk, hit by a strong blast of fire. Fire which I am pretty sure emitted from me. I felt my back hit the wall hard, before I fell in a heap on the floor, the flames disappearing like they had never existed. Voldemort towering over me, “You want to know why, daughter? Why you no longer possess your magic, your abilities, the way you remember?” He moved his hand upwards, lifting my limp body up, and pinning it against the wall, “Because it’s all mine now. I control what you do. How you do it.”
I felt my hand that still, somehow, held my wand, begin to rise up. Pointing in the direction of a small fly in the far corner of the classroom. I heard my voice say unfamiliar words, “Avada Kedavra.” And watched as a blast of green light shot from my wand, hitting the fly, and causing it to fall to the ground, dead. My body shook in fear. My head beginning to hurt. A familiar pain, this scene was achingly familiar somehow. I fell to the ground.
Voldemort loomed over me, a harsh look in his red eyes, “Do you want it back, daughter? Your magic?” He smirked at me, “I know you always hated it when I took control.” He leaned down to brush my long hair out of my eyes, “I’m sure you remember the first time I tested that power.” Voldemort stepped over me, using his own wand to trace a pattern on my back, “How far I can make you go.”
My head was pounding now. The pressure and pain upon it great. A sizzling sound coming from my back, barely audible over Voldemort’s cold laughter.
Blackness overcoming me.
___________________________________________________________________
I was paralyzed with fear, as an invisible force pushed me down the dimly lit hall towards my beloved mother’s bedchambers. Tears were streaming down my face, my heart pounding furiously in my chest, “Don’t make me do this!” I shrieked, to a chorus of laughter from my father’s Death Eaters behind me.
I choked back a sob as I felt my body turn towards my mother’s door. My hand grasping the handle and pulling it open, “Please.” I whispered softly. I could now see the sleeping form of my mother on her small cot of a bed.
I entered the room, against my will, pulling my wand from my cloak. My eyes widening, horrified, as I pointed it at her still form. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come out. A beat passed and I heard someone enter the room behind me. Clapping their hands to light up the torches in my mother’s dungeon, causing her to roll over in her cot. Her beautiful brown eyes opened wide, her features drawn and pale. She smiled at me, a faint gleam of recognition in her eyes.
“Child.” She said softly, her voice hoarse. The word bringing more tears to my eyes. That was the only word I had ever gotten her to call me. She then looked over my shoulder, her face lighting up as she caught sight of the person behind me, “Tom.” She said breathlessly as I felt my hand raise my wand into the air, pointing itself directly at my mother’s heart.
“Avada Kedavra.” I heard myself say through my sobs, watching as a green light stole my mother’s life away, while I collapsed upon the hard stone ground. Curling myself into a ball, a hand pressing itself upon my shoulder.
“It seems the spell worked, daughter.” I heard my father’s cold voice, “You are now bound to me.” His cold laugh echoed throughout the room.
__________________________________________________________________
I opened my eyes to see Voldemort still above me, smiling.
“You have no choice to obey my every command.” He said softly, “You can do nothing without me.” Voldemort took a step back from me, slowly fading away, “I will give you some of your magic back for now, daughter. But remember,” He smirked, “it’s still mine.” Then, he vanished, leaving me alone in the classroom.