An orange glow cast long flickering shadows across the walls of the small room. The scratching of a quill on parchment was the only sound that could be heard in the almost penetrating silence where a young woman sat at an antique desk writing a very important letter. She sighed and stretched her aching back, her olive skin seeming more like amber in the candle light. Tying her long brown hair back she hunched back over the desk and continued writing with fervor.
If any typical normal person were to read the letter they would think that the girl was just any other student attempting to get into the most reputable school in Wizarding England. The school where the very famous, and now since yesterday the very dead, Harry Potter went to school. But the letter isn’t as innocent as it seems and there is more to both letter and girl than what meets the eye.
For instance, if you looked closely at her hands you would notice dried blood underneath her fingernails, and a small healing scar across her palm. Or perhaps you would notice how her letter was overflowing with insincere flattery. Maybe you would even notice the slight point to her ears, and the way she seemed to be favoring her right wrist as she scribbles away into the night. But you wouldn’t notice these things unless you were looking for them because the girl before you is only what she wants you to see, and this is how she is going to get away with murdering Harry Potter.
oOo
(The Night Before)
It wasn’t because she hated him purse’, it was more because she hated what he stood for. The incredible Harry Potter, Savior to the Wizarding population of England, the ultimate seed of prejudice and ignorance of the people. Of course very few saw it that way, since there were very few left to speak out. The Ministry of Magic saw to that.
A few years after the war ended the Ministry began weeding out the undesired population of dark arts practitioners. At first it was just undercover operations to find any lingering Death Eaters, but then some witch who fancied herself a magical scientist designed a set of tests that could detect latent dark magic in a person’s bloodstream.
The Ministry required every suspected wizard or witch to partake in the test and if their dark magic levels were too high, they were shipped off to Azkaban. The children, of course, were placed in proper upstanding Light families, but were required to take the test every year. This led to an uprising. Formal complaints were made and ignored, and soon there were full scale riots. Protesters exclaiming loudly with magical words of displeasure floating above their heads, and then there was silence.
It happened slowly. A few missing people here and there. Magical freak accidents happened or people conveniently moving away to distant countries without a word of warning, never to be heard from again. Then one day there was nothing. And England became a haven for Light wizards and witches around the world.
Dark Arts they called it, as though it were an inky stain upon magic herself. And indelible smudge that they feared would come alive and eat them at night. Even when there was nothing left to fear Light magic folk still jumped at shadows, remembering the reign of Lord Voldemort’s Power. And so Harry Potter took it upon himself to show the magical peoples of England that they were safe.
Atra smiled to herself as the familiar mass of ebony hair came into sight. “Perfect timing” She muttered to herself. The trap was set and Harry Potter was walking right into it. When he finally crested the grassy hill he came to stand before her, a friendly smile upon his face. He held out a hand in greeting “Hello you must be Atra, you contacted me about your sister?” Long lines drew themselves across his forehead as he frowned. “Terrible thing being bitten by a werewolf, a friend of mine might be able to help though. Where is she?”
She shook his hand and smiled worriedly but inside she was laughing her arse off. It was almost too easy, not that she was complaining or anything. Easy was good, easy meant that she wouldn’t have to deal with silly complications and a big mess to clean up in the end. “She was so scared that she would be taken away by the ministry that she’s staying in a cabin our grandfather left to us when he passed on, I’ll take you to her.”
Suspicion narrowed his eyes upon her as she turned around began to lead him into the small wood behind her. “Why can’t we just apparate?” He asked with too light heartedly.
Atra laughed a bit “You know how sisters are, always wanting their privacy. She mad at me right now and didn’t key me into the wards.” She glanced at him as they walked deeper into the wood, stepping over roots and brush. The trees let very little light in so it was a perfect setting for what she was about to do. Only a few more steps before they reached the clearing. She glanced behind her sizing up her mark. He wasn’t too tall, or too muscular. She could take him down easily.
