Deatheater Lovers {Alternate Endings}

one

The atmosphere in Malfoy Manor was thick with the scent of burning incense and dark magic, as if the very walls were imbued with malevolence. The grand chandelier, with its countless crystals, cast fractured shadows across the polished marble floor, giving the room an eerie, otherworldly quality. The air hummed with anticipation; tonight, a new member was to be inducted into their ranks. A name that had once been revered by those who opposed them, now prepared to join the fold.

Blair Potter stood outside the drawing room's imposing double doors, her heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and dark excitement. The heavy wooden doors, intricately carved with serpentine patterns, seemed almost alive under her fingertips as she pushed them open. The moment she stepped inside, she felt the weight of a dozen unseen eyes turn toward her. The room was dimly lit, with a single fire burning low in the grate, casting flickering shadows on the masked faces of those gathered.

Each figure was cloaked in black, their faces hidden behind identical silver masks that glinted in the firelight. The only exceptions were herself and the figure seated at the head of the table. The space seemed to shrink around her, the walls closing in as her eyes swept the room, taking in the formidable presence of those gathered. Though she could not see their faces, she could feel their scrutiny, their silent judgment. But she was not afraid—this was the path she had chosen.

Her eyes lingered on one masked figure in particular, standing near the far end of the table. Though the silver mask obscured their features, there was something in the way they held themselves, in the intensity of their gaze locked on hers, that made her heart skip a beat. It was as if the mask was not there at all, as if they were looking directly into her soul. She could not tear her gaze away, the pull between them almost magnetic.

And then, as if sensing her thoughts, the figure shifted slightly, inclining their head ever so slightly in her direction. It was a subtle movement, one that might have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but to Blair, it felt like a silent acknowledgment—a shared understanding.

Her momentary distraction was interrupted by the soft, sibilant voice of the man at the head of the table. "Blair Potter," Lord Voldemort said, his red eyes gleaming with something akin to amusement, "Welcome. It is not often that we allow a Potter into our ranks."

Blair's heart thudded painfully in her chest as she forced herself to focus on the Dark Lord. His serpentine features were unnervingly calm, his gaze sharp and penetrating. She inclined her head respectfully, her voice steady as she replied, "Thank you, my Lord. I am honoured to be here."

Voldemort's thin lips curled into a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Honoured, indeed. It is rare for one of your bloodline to see the truth, to embrace the path of power rather than the weakness of the light. But I sense that you are different from your brother, are you not?"

The mention of Harry made her jaw clench involuntarily. "I am nothing like him," she said, a sharp edge to her voice. "Harry is a fool, blinded by his own righteousness. He clings to outdated ideals — friendship and prosperity. They are weaknesses, not strengths."

A murmur of approval rippled through the room, a low, sinister sound that sent a shiver down her spine. Voldemort's eyes glittered with satisfaction. "Good. You understand what so many fail to see. Weakness has no place in this world, and those who cling to it will be swept aside. But you, Blair, you have the undeniable potential to be something more."

Blair held her breath, waiting for him to continue. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the moment she would finally cast off the shadow of her brother and forge her own destiny.

"But know this," Voldemort said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "Loyalty is everything. Betray me, and you will suffer a fate far worse than death."