The Dark Lady and her twisted troubles

Chapter 3: Call me father

Hey everyone, not very proud of this chapter but the next one will be great ;)

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CHAPTER 4

Ivory walked from her magnificent and elegant childhood home with her head held high. According to Severus, she was to walk from her Devereaux Estate to the outer lining of a nearby forest. In Italy not many people knew of the Devereaux's existence, so she silently levitated her trunk and strutted purposefully to the stunning forest.

There a carriage would meet her, it would take her to Malfoy Manor, where she would first meet the dark lord, then her mentor.

She pushed away her nervousness and anxiety and struggled to remain calm.

She then set down the trunk and gingerly crept on to it, she sighed and leaned against the trunk of a tree.

She fiddled with the foliage and flora all around her. She closed her stunning eyes and inhaled deeply, all the aromas filling the air with surprising intensity.

A slow sweet smile flit her face as she once again closed her eyes and inhaled deeply this time trying to identify the flowers from their sweet scent.

Her eyelids fluttered from the concentration and then she heard swooshing sound.

She abandoned her previous enjoyment and looked up to find thestrals.

The gentle creatures padded upto her and she found herself in the presence of a band of thestrals tied to a marvelously dark carriage.

She pulled herself up gracefully and her trunk as well to find a man who looked quite old. She carefully composed her face as to look indifferent.

“Miss. Devereaux?”

“Yes?” Her majestic voice called politely.

With a bow he explained. “Madame and Master Malfoy have sent me to receive you. They are quite busy attending to the details of your initiation ceremony and other matters. We best be on our way.”

Ivory softened her blazing eyes, “Of course. And what may I call you?” She said while he picked up her trunk and opened the carriage door for her.

“Elijah, you may call me Eli.”

With a curving of her lips she said gratefully “Well, thank you Eli for receiving me on short notice I assume?”

Eli beamed and bowed, “Of course, it is an honor to meet a Devereaux.”

Ivory decided that she liked this man. So she gave him her most winning smile and entered the carriage.

Eli swayed on his feet and clumsily closed the door behind her.

He went to the front of the carriage and shook his head.

He wasn’t the first to feel dizzy after receiving a smile from a certain Devereaux.   

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Draco stood on the east tower. It was a good day for flying. Sadly he hadn’t had the chance to fly all summer. His gray orbs searched the Manor to no avail.

He was waiting for something, anything.

Being alone in the Manor was both a blessing and a curse.

When left alone, his thoughts wandered beyond his control.

He was bracing the edge with one hand while running his hand through his pale blond hair.

Little did he know that someone was yearning to be and not to be alone as well.

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Ivory looked out the lush and elegant carriage to see her beloved home disappear beneath her. Literally.

As they were travelling by carriage from a country to another. They were going extremely fast, somewhere in the troposphere.

Ivory sat back with a sigh, when she was young she had a nanny. The nanny was pureblood of course but knew of many muggle concepts and taught them to her. Ivory had the knowledge of a witch and a highly learned muggle. Yet if you were to shove a 5,000 page book under her nose she wouldn’t hesitate to soak the knowledge like a sponge.

Her nanny told her about many things. Taught her many things as well. Ivory’s  native tongue was Italian. Second was Latin. And third, English. Yet, she spoke each language with fluency and pronunciation that would make your heart melt.

One stormy night while her father and mother were in Albania vacationing, her nanny told her all sorts of stories, and  fairytales.

The one she loved most was Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

But now that she thought of it, of course it was her favourite! She resembled snow white in many ways.

Her nanny, Deidre, had given her many books of importance, muggle and magical.

She had brought both types along with her. She wondered if she could open her trunk and find a book to read.

But she didn’t want to trouble Eli.

She smiled, for some reason, she liked that man. she was wary that the man would undermine her magical ability and try something against her. But her father, Salem, is one of the best judge’s of character. She hoped she had gained his quality, it would truly come in need for where she was going.

The carriage was slowing down. Ivory’s brow furrowed. Were they there already?

She frowned and looked out of her window and saw a Dark and Gloomy mansion, it had a charm though, with the proper grooming it would be a magnificent manor. No doubt it already is.

They landed on the west tower. Her carriage door opened and she climbed out. A tall man, with black robes unfurling around him and chin length shiny black hair stood in front of her.

“Professor Snape.” She said respectfully and reached for her trunk.

“Let Eli get it, surprisingly you are on time. Come the dark lord is waiting.”

Snape turned around and once again his robes billowing behind him, she had no choice but to follow.

They went down medieval stairs and entered a grand hall she spotted many portraits studying her with interest, they no doubt accepted her. She recognized a few and nodded to those she knew.

Green and black, silver, diamonds, silver, chandeliers, snakes, and elegance, branching out everywhere she went.

They came to a stop in front of a room. He opened the door and allowed ivory to step inside the cold room despite the tremendous fire burning in the room.

A pale, bald man with a thin grotesque body hidden behind perfectly tailored robes was looking out the window leisurely. His frightening wand was lain on the table in front of the fire.

He turned around and his pallid and terrible face looked at hers. His red slits searching her for defects. So far, none.

After an appropriate silence she said respectfully in her majestic voice “ My lord.” And looked down.

With a quiet rustle of robes and a slither of a thick snake coiling against a chair near the dark lord.

She looked up hesitantly and yet bravely.

With a curling of the corner of his lips.

“Call me father.”