The Last Horcrux/Kitchen/A few hours later: Difference between revisions
m Typos |
No edit summary |
||
| (2 intermediate revisions by the same user not shown) | |||
| Line 4: | Line 4: | ||
“Are you ok Miss Emily?” She asks, with genuine concern, “you had a funny turn and fainted, I was hoping sitting by the fire and drinking some tea would warm you up. You were so very cold.” | “Are you ok Miss Emily?” She asks, with genuine concern, “you had a funny turn and fainted, I was hoping sitting by the fire and drinking some tea would warm you up. You were so very cold.” | ||
[[Image:Emily's Nanny.png|center|thumb|400px|Your Nanny seems very worried about you]] | |||
It takes a short while, but then you remember. You are are Emily Lestrange, a young witch, but really, you are not Emily. You are the Dark Lord Voldemort himself, or one part of his shattered soul. You are possessing this girl, and to ensure her compliance, you opened the doors on the memories of every horrific thing you ever did. It must have been too much for her, as her nanny later found her unconscious. | It takes a short while, but then you remember. You are are Emily Lestrange, a young witch, but really, you are not Emily. You are the Dark Lord Voldemort himself, or one part of his shattered soul. You are possessing this girl, and to ensure her compliance, you opened the doors on the memories of every horrific thing you ever did. It must have been too much for her, as her nanny later found her unconscious. | ||
Latest revision as of 23:33, 21 February 2023
After an indeterminate amount of time, you find yourself sat in the servants kitchen, staring into the bright flames of the fireplace, and drinking a cup of tea.
You look at the duo of cold tea in your hands, and realise you can’t remember how long you have been sitting there for. Then, for a terrifying moment, you realise you can’t remember who you are. You drop the tea cup on the floor and it breaks, spilling its contents all over the flagstones. Immediately, your Nanny rushes over to check on you.
“Are you ok Miss Emily?” She asks, with genuine concern, “you had a funny turn and fainted, I was hoping sitting by the fire and drinking some tea would warm you up. You were so very cold.”
It takes a short while, but then you remember. You are are Emily Lestrange, a young witch, but really, you are not Emily. You are the Dark Lord Voldemort himself, or one part of his shattered soul. You are possessing this girl, and to ensure her compliance, you opened the doors on the memories of every horrific thing you ever did. It must have been too much for her, as her nanny later found her unconscious.
You start to laugh. A bitter, cruel, mocking laughter that makes Miss Lancel recoil from you for a moment.
“Mistress?” You nanny says, the fear in her voice having shocked her into formality, “whatever is the matter? Do you need me to call you a doctor?”
Your laughter ceases.
“No,” I am fine,” you snap back at her, “Ready my carriage, I wish to pay a visit to Diagon Alley.”
“Are you sure mistress?” Miss Lancel asks, still concerned, “I’m not sure you’re well enough…”
“I said,” you interject harshly, “ready my carriage. Tell the groomsman to bring an empty trunk as well, I need to prepare myself for attending Hogwarts this Autumn.”
Miss Lancel looks worried, and hurt by how you spoke to her. You know that your nanny was the closest thing you had to a mother, but you simply don’t care.
You have things to do and plans to follow.