The Queen of Vipers || Fred Weasley

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There's three things you should know about Electra before carrying on; one, that Electra has always been special. From the moment of her birth she was destined for greatness. Ever since she could remember she knew she was different. How exactly, she wouldn't learn until she was much older, but the fact remained— there were things Electra could do that no one she'd ever met or will meet (and she will meet some very extraordinary people) were capable of. But that will come in due time.

The second thing you should know is Electra never wanted power. She never wanted to be anyone's piece on their chess board. Never wanted a seat on a side of the war table. And least of all, be someone's weapon. But war makes you do things you never, not in your most horrifying nightmares, do. And the same goes for love.

And lastly, Electra always believed in magic. And the greatest magic of all came in the form of love, and Electra will learn this hard way.

This is not a tale for those wishing to read of a noble hero. Electra's far from perfect, this she knows and so should you. Her morals are far from golden and she is not one to walk truly on the side of the light. For that I can direct you to a different account of the events, but for those willing to continue, this is the story of the rise of the Queen of Vipers.

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BANG!

The crash of the front door blasting off its hinges could be heard from the back of the large manor.

Two women sat around a kitchen table, the younger of the two, hardly old enough to look like she was in her mid twenties, cradling a sleeping toddler in her arms. She had hair of golden honey wrapped behind her head with a long stick poked through to keep it in place. She was undeniably beautiful, with the kind of face that screamed opulence even if that were false. Across the table from her, her mother, whose hair was once as golden as her daughter's, was now slowly on its way to white. They had been speaking in hushed tones, discussing something grim written in the open newspaper resting on the table between them. There was something strange about the paper, because it seemed to have moving bits to it, but perhaps the mind was playing tricks. The young woman was twirling curls of the toddler's hair, so different from the other women's, dark as night, when the crash came.

At the great clamor the young woman clutched the baby closer to her body. Her golden blonde head snapped back to the kitchen entrance as she heard her father yell from the drawing room as a strange voice shouted something in what sounded like a strange language. A blaze of brilliant green light emitted from the hallway and his cry was no more.

A heart-stopping moment passed, before her mother shot from the wooden chair. She dashed to the back of the kitchen and ripped the unused servant's door open. The blonde woman stood from her chair, gripping the stirring toddler tight against her chest. The fear shone plainly on her face made her look only younger still.

"Mum," she gasped, her brown eyes wide and wild, trained on the archway to the hallway.

"Go!" she hissed at the golden girl. "We'll hold them off while you get to the cloak."

The golden haired girl shook her head.

The older woman rested her rough hands on her daughter's cheeks and smiled sadly. "It will be alright. You know what to do." She looked down and swirled her fingers with the dark curls bunched around the nape of the baby's neck. "She must remain out of his grasp. For the greater good."

The young woman whimpered as she nodded in understanding, the horrible sound of fighting drawing closer.

"Go now," said the older woman ushering her daughter into the stairwell.