{COMPLETED}
•#1 in Tom Felton 7/22/18•
•#3 in Draco Malfoy 03/11/19•
•#1 in WizardingWorld 09/08/18•
Fluff, swearing, drama, a bit of heated content, you name it!
I wasn't really comfortable with writing smut until later in the book, but there is so...
<This Story is a tad bit different then most, in this story I've given you a name and your looks, I'm so sorry, if you do not like it. Please, feel free to change it>
*In this chapter your name is Onyx Riddle, aka Voldemort's daughter.*
•Y o u r P O V •
Let me tell you. Being the dark lords daughter is one of the toughest most harsh job in the entire universe, believe me. Currently, I was standing behind him partially, staring straight forward as he spoke to one of his most loyal followers. The Malfoy Family.
"Your son, Draco, must receive his mark." My father said sternly, fiddling with his wand. "Lucius, I'd hope you understand this." "Of course, my lord." Lucius Malfoy said immediately, bowing his head at my father, and then me. "My queen."
I bit my tongue to hold in a groan. You see, I usually went by the title Madame Riddle, Miss Onyx, or even my lady. But recently, my father had requested people to call him My Lord, and I My Queen. His babygirl. It's odd, really. My father is the Dark Lord, but he absolutely adores his only daughter.
I take after my father, or rather how he used to look. I have his extremely pale skin, raven black hair and green snake like eyes. It's weird, really. I'm unusually thin, yet healthy and fit? And please, let's not even speak about my height. But if you must know, I am 14 years old and nearly 6" tall.
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(Eyes^^^)
I felt eyes on me, making me snap back to attention, my eyes flicking up to meet non other then Draco Malfoy's stormy orbs. He was staring at me, fear apparent in not only his aura, but his eyes too. They drowned in fear.
"My lord, he's only a child-" Narcissa tried to say, but a hissing sound left Nagini, making my eyes tear themselves away from Draco's and towards my father, who was tense and staring at me. His red eyes burning into my flesh as he nodded once, telling me to calm down.
I relaxed and lowered my eyes to the floor.
"He has a task to do, Narcissa. Draco will bear the mark, if Onyx can do it, so can he. She got the mark when she was 11." My father said sternly, and I internally flinched at the memory. My screams of torture, how my father held me to him and tried to soothe me, how I cried out my heart. My pain, everything. My emotions went away, along with my innocence on August 1st, my 11th birthday.
My father told me to never cry again. And I haven't.
"Draco, come."
The platinum haired boy looked at me once more before slowly making his way up to my father, his left arm already uncovered, his sleeved shoved up. My father began to speak parsletongue, which held my whole attention as I listened to him speak. His wand touched the main vein on his arm, and a black ink began to make its way across Draco's pale skin.
