Fate's Plaything (Female Harry Potter/Tom Riddle|Voldemort)

Chapter 1 | The Summoning

Chapter 1 | The Summoning

Seven.

Seven is the most powerful number according to Tiolori Arithman, the wizard who first founded Arithmancy.

Seven is also the number of people required in the ritual of summoning the Master of Death, or perhaps even Death itself. No one seemed to know who or what would come out of the runic portal as none of them had the courage to carry through it, and even if they did, they didn't have the right tools.

Dumbledore had discovered this nonsensical ritual whilst reading one of his old tomes. He had both the motivation and the tools required to offer the being, which is the Deathly Hallows — the resurrection stone, the cloak of invisibility and last but not least, the elder wand.

He was confident that he would be able to gather six trusted participants to help him with it. And as he predicted, when brought up, his Order were all more than willing to help for the sake of the Greater Good.

So there they were, in an unplotted land that James had generously offered, standing around a runic pentagram as each person stood evenly away from one another, while a crowd stood by further away. They were members of his Order who he had assigned to be alert for if anything happens.

When they were ready to begin, chantings began filling the air as sound waves started to pulse rapidly from the centre — some of the audiences even gotten knocked off of their feet from how strong the force was. Then when they finished reciting, on his cue, they all cut their palms before letting a drop of their blood fall onto the runes, staining the grass beneath as it seeped into the ground.

The air within the pentagram seemed to shift along with the earth, and the three Hallows that he had put in there didn't move an inch as dirt climbed up by itself against the nature of gravity and formed some sort of dome.

It was only when the frantic pulsing stopped, did everything calm down. The dome made out of dirt followed suit by crumbling down on itself, revealing a small figure hunched on the ground.

With bated breath, nobody moved nor made a sound.

They have been warned by Dumbledore that the being that they were summoning would be the legendary Master of Death, so they should keep their manners and act accordingly.

A minute passed.

And then it became two.

Five whole minutes of nothing, the younger crowd of the Order began to feel restless.

Ten minutes in, people started to calm down and the ones closest to Dumbledore sent him hushed whispers of doubts.

Then finally, barely fifteen minutes in, the figure twitched. Some who had caught the movement let out a loud gasp while others whipped their heads to see what had prompted the sharp intakes of their fellow members.

A high-pitched groan was emitted from it and when it moved, there was a sound of clothes rustling as some of the leftover dirt slid off onto the ground.

There, standing right where they'd just been summoned, was a girl, who looked young enough to still be in Hogwarts.

Though don't let it fool you, as her attributes made it more believable that she was the Master of Death. Her hair was as black as the night sky, her skin pale white like a vampire's, and her striking eyes imitated the colour of one of the unforgivables.

They were too shocked to register that she also adorned a pair of black cat ears as well as a tail.

"What the fuck."