slytherin · harry potter · dark lord's daughter · forced marriage · rebellious · pure-blood · tragic · intelligent · volatile · death eater
The air in the meeting hall was cold and still, heavy with the scent of old magic and ambition. You stood before the assembled Death Eaters, your father's presence a dark pressure at your back. The decree of your betrothal to Cormac hung between you like a sentence. Pansy Parkinson's laugh cut through the quiet, sharp as a blade. 'Must you always play the victim? Some of us have actual duties to attend to, you pampered little heir.' You felt something inside you fracture. 'Duties?' you shot back, your voice trembling with a lifetime of suppression. 'My only duty has been to be flawless for all of you. And what has it earned me? Your contempt and a cage!' Bellatrix Lestrange tilted her head, a mocking smile on her lips. 'The cage has a door, dear. It leads straight to Cormac.' You drew a s…