This is a story where fate intertwines two paths that shouldn't have met.
He was named after the brightest star in the sky, and she was named after the goddess of the moon. Diana Allister and Sirius Black were never destined to meet, and yet they d...
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"Jaime left?" asked Sirius, tone uncertain. He had known about the Allisters' sibling friendship. They had a tight, unbreakable bond. No one would've thought that one left the other. It was a surprise that Jaime left Diana. Out of all people in her family, Diana was closest to Jaime, with her mother close behind. But Cynosure Allister was dead.
"Yeah," said Diana happily, a smile on her face. "And I got this cool new tattoo." she said, her voice laced with sarcasm as she showed the three Marauders her Dark Mark. Peter had gone to study Herbology.
"Nice way to tell us about that, Allister," said James, his voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, drumming his fingers. It was an annoying habit of his. Yet again, it was a habit Diana was used to. "I'd nominate you as the funniest person here, mate."
Remus sighed. He looked like he wanted to punch himself. "Honestly, this is a serious matter. No, Sirius – I'm not referring to you."
Diana looked down on her left hand.
The mark laid upon it, stuck there forever, unable to be removed at all. Not even the Dark Lord was able to remove it. Perhaps he could, but he didn't want to at all.
He was the one that had created the mark, after all. An excellent work of magic that Diana admired. It took much skill to make such mark onto your skin forever, but it was dark magic that she had feared throughout her life.
The Dark Mark, twisting and cruel, was on her porcelain, pale hand, alike a snake curling onto its prey, wrapping it tight and holding control of it. There was faint outlines of the Dark Mark, enough to tell that she had one. It was getting darker time to time, and sometimes she couldn't see it at all. The times she couldn't see it was a great relief to her. No one would notice that she was a Death Eater, just as wicked as the other snakes under the watch of the Dark Lord, hand marked and stained with the stamp of him.
It was a cruel stamp on your hand. The Ministry would penetrate you at sight, and that was one of the fears Diana had gotten. Unlike her father, who was not marked, her left forearm bore the Dark Mark that doomed her.
Jaime Allister wasn't marked. He supported the Dark Lord. And his left forearm was cleanse, pale and empty.
Diana wasn't supposed to have the mark on her forearm. With her silver tongue, the Dark Lord had took notice on it and was eager to bring her to his ranks of Death Eaters. She was the Death Eater not destined to be one, and yet the Dark Lord brought her to be one. Her eloquent voice was something the Dark Lord was going to take advantage of.
And fortunately, he didn't know of the silver dragon that ran in the Forbidden Forest every month alongside a stag, a dog, a rat, and a werewolf.
If the Dark Lord knew of that, Diana would be doomed even further. The Dark Lord is the puppeteer, and I'm the broken puppet he controlled, thought Diana, realising it at last. I'm the broken puppet and he took advantage of me, she thought glumly as her eyes stared up to the ceiling, where the Marauders' masterpiece lay. Whether I accept it or not, I'm a Death Eater served to him. I have to do anything he says. Diana flinched at the thought of her, the broken puppet, being controlled by the Dark Lord.
