Opposing Bloodlines (A Voldemort One Shot - Gender Studies Contest)

The Sacrifice - Tasmin Voldemort Riddle - Part Two

  Tasmin Voldemort had a choice before her as she stood in the darkness of the night. There were two families that were against her, both whom had tried stopping her three times prior. The Longbottom's and The Potter's. There was a difference between the children from these enemies however was, the child from the Longbottom's would be pure-blood and, the Potter's would have a half-blood, like herself. 

  Perhaps that is why she decided to choose The Potters. That the child that could stop her represented everything about herself that she tried so hard to purge from her history, from her very being. She was a half-blood, poisoned with what was muggle blood in her system that she fought daily to rid herself of. 

  If she was to be honest, it wouldn't matter if she made a mistake and it was the wrong child, she would simply visit the Longbottom's right after. Nothing would stop her, in fact, what could? It almost seemed amusing that anyone would try, or that there was even a prophecy that anyone could be equal to her. But alas, here she was at the entrance to Godric's Hollow, staring ahead to the home in which held the child of James and Lily Potter. 

  The Potters had tried to go into hiding, but it was pointless. Although Tasmin Voldemort must give them a partial credit for trying to hide from her. It would have worked, if she had to admit to herself if not anyone else. It could have worked... If it had not been for their secret-keeper, Peter Pettigrew who willingly betrayed them. He was, as you could say, a dirty rat. 

  Tasmin could feel the energy in the air, the meaning of an event which would soon bring her closer to being unstoppable. She almost could not properly think through how it would be to have this prophecy discarded, to show that even a simple prophecy could be stopped by her hands. That no one would be able to stop her! Not one witch, nor wizard, or even muggle could ever stop her. 

  She began to walk forward, the hood covering her head and face, the rest of the long cloak trailing behind her as each step made quiet thuds against the ground. The lights throughout the two to three story brick house that held the family of three inside of it. Tasmin made little noise as she stepped to the door of the home. If she was new to this, her heart would be racing, excitement to finally dealing with her enemies once and for all would pump through her veins at an accelerated rate, blinding her way to properly deal with the situations at hand.

  But she was far too smart for that. She was not like the Death Eaters that followed her, she took her time, she was cool and collected. It was smart, instead of automatically allowing emotions to cloud ones judgement. Her heart rate stayed calm, she did not allow excitement to race through her body. Her breathing remained the same, easy and collected. She was calm because she had done this before, and even if it would be more satisfying than her other kills, she would remain collected. 

  She held her wand tightly by her side, her eyes narrowing to the door. As if without little concentration, she made the door swing open by itself. James Potter was in clear view, turning fast as his eyes became wide. Shock, pure shock overtook the man before her, this wizard whom thought he and his family would be safe. He let his guard down because of it and that was his mistake. 

  "Lily!!! Take Harry and go!" Shouted the wizard before Tasmin. His hands, out of what she guessed was pure reflex, reached to his sides but with little effect. Tasmin could see that James Potter held no wand, no way of defending himself. She could hear the footsteps of the running Mother, almost tsking in response. 

  Before James Potter could move, Tasmin raised her wand with the tip of it pointed directly towards him. For so long, she wanted to rid herself of him, of what he stood for. Of him trying his hardest to stop him. But alas, it was a failure. He had failed to end her along with his (what she viewed to be) the pathetic Order Of The Phoenix.