Chapter 3
I couldn’t really think of anything to say. I was still quite confused, I had no idea where I was, where I was going to go, where Umbridge was…. The list was endless. And, to add on to the list of what, where, and why, I was trusting the information coming a pudgy lady and an old, wizened man.
“Where am I?” I finally asked. I don’t know how long I was quiet, because the moment I spoke the woman, Molly, jumped in surprise. They were now seated across from me on a maroon velvet sofa, and I noticed I sat on one exactly the same.
I looked around a little more. Detailed tapestries encased the walls, but black paint peeked through only a few times, as if it were gasping for air. The room was wide and large. I could hear a fireplace crackle happily behind me, but it didn’t make me feel as warm and happy on the inside as it did the outside. The tapestries on the walls even extended onto the ceiling, and they did not match the mood the fire and the soft sofas were radiating. They showed gruesome pictures of death, destruction, and loss. The only thing I can say is that they gave me the creeps.
“You’re in Grimmauld Place, the site of the Order of the Phoenix,” Professor Dumbledore answered. “And, before you ask, the Order of the Phoenix is a magical organization formed by yours truly to fight evil, and most frequently, Lord Voldemort.”
Molly flinched at this last word. “Oh, now, now Molly, fear of the name is nothing compared to his powers,” Dumbledore said dismissively.
“Wait a moment…. Grimmauld Place…. That sounds…” I started.
“Familiar? I imagine you’ve heard Dolores mention it a time or three,” Dumbledore interrupted.
“Yes, exactly! I remember now! She was explaining to Cornelius Fudge about this place. She said a man named Sirius Black lived here, I think,” I reminisced.
“Sirius Black did live here,” Molly responded. “He was a madman. A cold-blooded criminal. He killed 13 muggles with one curse. He also murdered a man name Peter Pettigrew. All that was left of him was a-“
“Finger,” I supplied gravely. “I tend to eavesdrop a lot.”
“Well, then, it seems we will be able to give the shortened version of this whole affair, considering you’ve already heard so much of it,” Dumbledore sighed. “As you may or may not know, Sirius Black has a brother. He was a very studious, very quiet man. But, he turned over to Lord Voldemort’s side, and became a Death Eater. And one day, he just…. Disappeared. And that man is your father.”
R.A.B was my father. He was Sirius Black’s brother. He was a Death Eater. And if I was taking this correctly, R.A.B was dead.
“I have something to show you. It was sent to me along with my Hogwarts letter,” I took the locket off quickly and handed it to him, staring at my feet. I heard him gasp, and Molly leaned to get a closer look as to what was inside. After a few moments of reading, both of them looked quite faint.
“I’m sorry, Julianna, but there is no way that this can remain in your possession. It is a dangerous magical artifact and will need to be inspected immediately by the Ministry of Magic,” Dumbledore said softly.
“It’s not dangerous, the note specifically explains that R.A.B stole the real Horcrux, whatever that is. It’s a replica! Give it back, it’s my father’s! It’s mine now! GIVE IT BACK!” I shouted.
I had never gotten angry before. It felt different, and I did not like it. It was then I realized criminals like Sirius Black and Lord Voldemort probably felt like that all the time, constantly angry, seeking for bloodshed. I made a silent vow that I would never end up like them.
“You may hold it once more after I explain to you the consequences of this object. It will be returned to its original place of keeping shortly,” Dumbledore said calmly, and I could feel the anger simmering in my stomach begin to slowly wear off, as if Dumbledore was the ‘off’ button to my emotions. I nodded in consent.
“This object is a replica of a very dangerous magical item, Julianna. This is not a family heirloom. It is a reproduction of a Horcrux, when a person splits their soul and keeps it in a small, concealable object, in this case-a locket. Horcuxes are very dangerous, and very heartless, I might add. For this Horcrux to be made, this person murdered another’s soul, and by killing a human, your soul is split in half. You are not supposed to know of this sort of magic at your age, but there is no way you could understand the danger of this locket without knowing. Can you promise me that you won’t tell anyone, unless it is absolutely necessary?” he explained.
I nodded slowly as he handed me the locket. And for a moment, I felt connected. I felt a warmness control my actions, knowing that my father once held this very chain and caressed the same ‘S’ symbol embossed on it. I felt R.A.B’s love wash over me, and I realized a determination inside that I was to find out what my father’s real name was, and I was going to make everything right. I knew that I had to avenge Voldemort for killing my father, and possibly my mother. I was going to make everything alright. I knew it.
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The locket had been escorted out of Grimmauld Place within moments of me returning it back to Dumbledore’s wrinkled hands. Molly led me upstairs. This house appeared to get more disturbing as I walked through it, taking in the horrendous sights I knew I would never un-see. The stairs creaked and moaned, and I kept expecting hands to reach through the floorboards and grab my ankles. I let my hands run across the smooth banister, but quickly took them away after I noticed how dusty they were. Molly and I soon reached a hallway, and thankfully the rasping clamor of the wooden steps was over as we began to trod on a red patterned tapestry carpet. We walked to the very end of the hallway where she opened the door to a room, revealing an old, tattered, very ‘thrown together’ sort of bedroom.
“You’ll be staying here for the next few days. People will be stopping by often for Order meetings and to check on you, so don’t worry love. We’ll take good care of you. Be ready in three days to go to Diagon Alley to get your school things. I’ll see you then,” Molly smiled consolingly, but I knew she was just as distraught as I was. And I was then left to my thoughts as the door mad contact with its doorway.
I suppose she was right. Saying I’m in good hands doesn’t really make everything alright, does it?
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Death Eater's Daughter-Book 1
FanfictionRegulus Black is mysterious. No one seemed to know a lot about his personal life, except for the fact that he was a Death Eater and was eventually murdered by the ruthless Lord Voldemort in the first war. No one knew he was in love. No one knew he h...
