She was the last of her line, according to her father. A natural parseltongue, and a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Gaunt. The long lost Slytherin heir. The long lost phantom queen.
She was bred by her father to be determined, cunning, ru...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Her summer to say the least was the same bore as always. Aidan had left. He bought his place with his first month's salary and kept training. He had no time for her. Not until he could secure his place on the team. With that, he meant forging the best friendship in the events that she needed his cousin's help.
She kept plotting the whole summer. She had elaborate plans for every scenario. Even those worst-case scenarios. She even tried a solution for when she was dead if Voldemort found out her true allegiance.
No one would see it coming. There wouldn't be two sides of the war. There would be a silent one brewing in her grasp. It would be the silent side that would take over in the order's and Voldemort's silence. She would feed on both sides. Only one could rise.
Everything had grown this summer, her curves, her final growth spurt, her aristocratic feature, her ruthlessness, her cold, and calculated nature, even her eyes were somehow icier and paler than ever before.
Her Aunt Mala and Uncle Seamus taught her everything they could. They still struggled to teach her a corporeal Patronus. Aunt Mala made a bet with Seamus. 100 galleons it would be a crow. Seamus had another bet, 150 galleons it would be a basilisk or a snake. Either way, she wouldn't know because she couldn't produce one. She would trash her room in anger, pull at her hair, and even curse at herself in the mirror.
Her hair had grown into luscious onyx locks, no longer the dull rings that would fall out of her long ponytail. She grew out the look when Voldemort stuck a stray her behind her ear. It would ever be the most paternal touch, but the most disgusting at it.
Another thing that had happened in her uneventful summer; Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban. How? She wasn't quite sure. She studied all the books she could about Dementors and the prison itself. Her grandfather had died inside that rotten hell. She learned from the atrocities inside the concrete charming walls. Morrigan wouldn't let any of her friends suffer a similar fate, she vowed that to herself.
She studied every weakness from Dementors. Dementors rely fully on their ability to sense emotion and physical or mental health to track the movements of the prisoners in their care, and are generally unable to distinguish one person from another if both are in similar physical or mental condition. Those were their frailties- they were blind and they scattered if there was light, likely from a Patronus charm.
This was why she needed to perfect the Patronus Charm. She could generate a shield, but never a corporeal form.
Her fun finally started when she was at Kings Cross. Seamus was leaving her this year. Mala had to settle things in the Ministry. As the butler carried her trunk, she was about to step into the train when her uncle grasped her wrist and warned.
"Sirius Black is extremely dangerous. You have a knack for searching for those now. Stay away from him. Besides, your grades, they came in. Everything was outstanding, but remember that we need more than outstanding, you need to create your ground. You need to distinguish your territory. I don't hear that".
