The Dark Lord's Daughter (rewrite)

♡ 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖓𝖊 ♡

Another dusk evening had passed...not even a slither of dawn had approached with a smile...how depressing. The dark halls of the manor where I stayed was like an illuminating palace. The walls were built up with strong wood and rich family history. The stone arches created a spherical passageway to what lies beneath the dark oak beams that I called home. Every step I take sends a shiver up my spine as the floor is as cold as ice. My eyes wandered towards the slick black double doors. I walked over to them letting my head rest against the door.

Hearing the chaos on the other side was eerily calming, knowing that I wasn't all alone in this manor. My father was yelling at all of his employees because apparently not a single one of them understood his enquiries.

I don't know anything about my fathers work but what I do know is that it is loud and private. I can hear someone trembling near the door, I recognise the voice. It's Peter Pettigrew...my parental figure.

Peter pettigrew is a short and mildly plump man. His facial features resemble the ones of a rodent. His hair was matted and his fingernails were vile. One of his hands were completely silver....as if his real hand had been replaced.

Although he is disgusting...I am thankful for him. He was able to bring my father back. I have grown quite sympathetic towards Peter, even though he helped my father out. He still gets treated disrespectfully, he is hexed, yelled at, hit....even more. He gets tortured every day.

The torture that my father displays is only audible to me. I'd usually sit behind closed doors and hear the bloodcurdling screams, curses and violence, just happy knowing that it wasn't me under the torture. Tonight though, I find myself braver than ever due to the peak of my curiosity. I've never seen any happen due to my father saying "you're too young to understand this business".

I was still standing outside the door of the hall where the meeting was taking place. I was so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed that the door had pried itself open, before I knew it I had fell into the hall and all of the meeting members' gazes had fallen onto me.

I stood up from the floor in shock as my father had a baffled expression painted on his face. One of the employees caught my attention. Peter Pettigrew. Even though I felt sympathy for the guy, I couldn't look at him without wanting to stab my eyes out with a fork.

"Who is this little brat?" Screeched one of the employees. My attention suddenly shifted to her. She was a tall and thin woman, she had tendrils of black hair. She also had cheekbones that you could probably break steel with.

In all honesty...I had a bad temper. I was easily agitated and therefore easily angered. She agitated me very quickly. First and foremost, I fell into this room. Talk about embarrassing. Then she calls me a brat. A brat! I was able to calm myself down quickly enough to not cause a scene. Thanks anger management.

Her wrinkled brown eyes tried piercing through my soul yet I stood unfazed. I looked back at her, just trying to figure her out. What's with this lady? She's hot I can admit...but she seems the type to be very annoying...very fast.

"Is there a reason for this dementor to be staring at me like that?" I asked my father. I'm not about to embarrass myself in front of all of his employees. I was not going to let this woman call me a brat without at least getting to know me first.

Slightly taken aback, the woman glanced at my father. My father was looking at me with an amused smirk on his face. That must mean I did something good. Especially if he's happy with me. A few of the employees had chuckled when I insulted the woman. Now the room was silent as we all waited for her to say something back. To say anything back. I watched her face contort In anger as she yelled, " How dare you speak of me that way?! You filthy mud-blood!"

I looked at her with confusion on my face. What the fuck is a mud-blood? I looked around the room, assessing people's reactions. My father looked about ready to kill someone. His amused smirk had disappeared and rage was evident behind his eyes. Odd. Doesn't seem to care about me when he's the one saying hurtful words.

"How dare you!" My father sneered. It was odd seeing him defend me. He wouldn't do so if it was just us and the Malfoy family present. The amount of times I have had to be apparated to St Mungo's by Narcissa was uncountable. New hexes and curses were tested on me. Like a lab rat. My father said that it is normal for these things to happen. I know it isn't normal. Trust me I'm not that dense. So far in my life, other than the St Mungo trips, I've been locked up inside this manor. I'll talk more about that later but right now I need to focus on the conversation in the room.

The woman had sunk into her seat by the time I had finished wandering around inside my own head. My father looked at me and raised his arm slowly. Here I thought he was going to hit me for coming into the hall at all, even if it was an accident. So I flinch back. My father chuckled at that and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Would you like to introduce yourself my dear?" He asked in a hiss.

I looked along the table of his employees and took a deep breath. Breathing the air out I finally say, "My name is Luciana Riddle"

You could hear a pin drop. Only Peter and the Malfoy's knew of my existence. I could feel every heat oppressed stare coming from the table.

Why didn't I just stay in my room?

1035 words