His Last Descendent

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young man enters a manor, intent on a kill... Inspired by a story on Mugglenet fan fiction called The Receding by hestiajones! Harry Potter related

Submitted: July 16, 2012

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Submitted: July 16, 2012



Venom surges through my blood. I know that I'm not thinking too rashly, but I'm far too angry, far too murderous, far too elated to care. All these years of searching, searching, searching, and it seems that I am done. It all comes down to this- this manor. This disgusting, well-kept manor.

I do not feel in control of my emotions, but it's understandable. This was the man who robbed me, who never bothered to know me, abandoned me, never bothered to even care. This was the cruel arrogant man who wouldn't let magic taint his all-too perfect life. I see that now. But he did. He let it into his life- his puny life- and now he will pay.

I still cannot understand why I do not feel more hatred for her. She had married filth. She, a pureblood, a Slytherin, no less, had hankered after a Muggle! An unspeakable act, yet I feel more abhorrence coursing through my veins for him and not her. Perhaps it's because he abandoned her. I don't know why they even got together. I had just seen her hovel- and now a magnificent, albeit nauseating, manor stood before me. They were from separate worlds. Why? Why?

I let vengeance flow through me as my foot crushes the blades of freshly cut grass. I almost stomp, stamp, rampage across the perfect garden. I pass by the flowers, too innocent, but I keep my peace. No need for this to get out of hand. No need to suspect foul play...

The cobblestone steps are before me and now is the time to turn back, to walk away, and let the selfish pig wallow in his insignificant life. I chuckle to myself. Turn back! A preposterous, cowardly notion. I would be a disgrace to Slytherin, to my mother, to myself. I stare at the grand front door, obviously locked. But that doesn't hinder me. It never has, never will.

With a soft swish of the unfamiliar wand in my pale hand, the door silently opens, beckoning me forward. I long to use my own wand, the yew wand, my powerful wand, but I know it is better this way. Excitement builds inside me. A fire takes my heart, though I've always doubted its existence. I glance one last time at the village below, seeing how tiny and immaterial it is, crawling with Muggles, whose useless lives will end soon without avail or notice. I know I'm smirking at their demise and it only fuels me. I quietly step inside the daunting manor.

It's cool inside, almost like ice, and dark, yes, quite dark. I can't stop myself from relaxing in its presence. The cold and dark has always drawn me in... But I almost vomit at the splendor of the halls, the carpet, the ceiling. She had been so poor, and he had been here, not a care in the world, glorying in his money. I almost hiss,but remember to stay silent. I think it infuriates me, though, because I can never inherit it. No matter. Treasures will find their way into my slim, powerful hands soon enough, and this will be but a meager memory... The carpets, mercifully, are thick, and do not warn of my presence.

I allow myself closer to the voices I hear. A monotonous tone drags on about some squire duties, and an equally boring tone answers back, but female. A third voice joins in, husky and soft, but more characteristic and emotional. It sounds almost like mine... I had not anticipated this, to walk into a room full of people, but I must go on. There are no obstacles!

I come to another door that conceals their voices just beyond. I chide their foolishness, that they could be so, so- arrogant, off-guard, not even anticipating the likes of me. I relish in their naivete. Really, Muggles are so careless. They cannot even fathom a world like mine, they cannot cope with something bigger than them, stuck in their own bubbles...

I pause before opening the door, the hatred pursuing its course more vigorously, the flames boiling my heart now. I want to see his shock, I want him to suffer, for what he did. I want to end his life so badly, take it all away from him, like he took it from me. I push open the door with a raging force, a bit theatrical, but it serves my purpose.

And what meets me then are three blank faces of shock and horror as they register my appearance. But I only have eyes for one person- the man directly in the path of my fiery glare, the man who ruined everything.

I allow myself a cruel smile, before swinging my weapon forward, before shooting that fatal, beautiful green light towards his handsome, stupefied face...

Three dead bodies lay before me, still in their dinner things, shock and fear still etched in their filthy, ugly, Muggle faces. Defenseless. Hopeless. I feel nothing but triumph, though my detestation still lingers. The only thing this man had ever done for me was conceive me, but now he served a new purpose: I could relish in his most fortunate death. I long to use another unforgivable curse, but I must leave, before the authorities find me. No need to end up in trouble now, when it has just begun- my reign.

I twirl the wand in my long, tapered fingers. All these years of searching, searching, searching had been worth it. And now they were gone, only to be an irksome memory. A satisfying memory. I find that I love his absence, his death. Dead by own hand, though I shall never be credited this honor, this good deed. No matter. For I know that I will later be awarded with other murders, other deeds, and will come to be known as the greatest sorcerer in the world! People will fear me, as he did, will see nothing but the rush of death as my vengeance takes over. *There is only power, and those too weak to seek it.* My Muggle father, though his dirty blood runs through my veins, has proved it. His cowardly deed, masked by wealth, has only proved to be his downfall, and I have emerged victorious, for I have all the power, and I WILL finish noble Salazar Slytherin's work, for I am his last living descendent. And I intend to show the world the extent of my wrath, my power, my worth...

I exit the now despondent manor, ready to take it all, ready to take my rightful throne.

© Copyright 2018 Nagini Riddle. All rights reserved.

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