Forbidden & Forgotten

As the weekend set in, Devina sat by the window in the Slytherin common room, her thoughts drifting as she watched the rippling surface of the Black Lake. The morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting colourful patterns on the stone floor. The vibrant greens and silvers danced across the walls, reflecting the house's emblem and legacy. The common room itself was a study in grandeur and subtle menace, with its dark mahogany furniture, plush emerald sofas, and ornate, serpent-themed decorations. The fireplace crackled softly, its flames casting a warm, flickering glow that contrasted with the cool, shadowy corners of the room.

It was a rare moment of peace, a fleeting escape from the storm of emotions that had been raging inside her. From the task that consumed her mind to Mattheo freaking Riddle acting weird, everything seemed to be spiralling out of control. The high-backed chair she sat in was one of her favourites, its upholstery worn to a comforting softness from years of use. The soft hum of the castle waking up filled the background, punctuated by the occasional distant chatter of students and the soft rustling of pages from other early risers lost in their books.

Devina's eyes traced the intricate patterns on the Persian rug beneath her feet, a piece of ancient history that had seen generations of Slytherins walk over it. The heavy drapes by the window, embroidered with silver thread, framed the serene view of the lake, its surface shimmering like liquid glass under the gentle morning sun. 

A sudden tap on the windowpane broke her reverie. An owl, sleek and black, with piercing yellow eyes, perched on the sill, a letter tied to its leg. Devina's heart sank as she recognized the bird. It was her father's owl, Apollo, a harbinger of dread and unwelcome news. She hesitated before opening the window, allowing the owl to hop inside and extend its leg.

With trembling fingers, Devina untied the letter. The parchment felt heavy in her hands, its weight amplified by the dread coiling in her stomach. She broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter, her eyes scanning the familiar script.

"Dear Devina,

I trust this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. The time has come for you to take your rightful place among the Dark Lord's most loyal followers. Your exceptional performance at Hogwarts and your unwavering dedication have not gone unnoticed. The Dark Lord himself has taken an interest in you, a rare and significant honour.

As you are aware, our family has always been at the forefront of the Dark Lord's cause. It is now your turn to uphold this proud legacy. Arrangements have been made for you to receive the Dark Mark upon your return home for the Christmas holidays. This will solidify your commitment and mark the beginning of your greater responsibilities within our ranks.

I expect you to embrace this with the same determination and strength that you have shown thus far. This is a great honour, Devina, and a testament to your potential and worth. Do not disappoint me.

Your future is now intertwined with the Dark Lord's vision. Accept this gift and prove that you are truly a Black, worthy of our name and our cause.

Your father, Crucis Black II."

Devina read the letter twice, her mind struggling to process the words. Her breath quickened, and the parchment slipped from her grasp, fluttering to the floor like a dead leaf. The world seemed to tilt, and she felt a wave of nausea rise within her.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "No, no, no..."

The room began to spin as panic set in. She couldn't do it. She couldn't bear the thought of the Dark Mark searing her skin, binding her to Voldemort forever. Images of Draco's haunted eyes and the pain etched into his face flashed in her mind. The weight of the expectations, the cruelty of her father's demands, and the darkness of the path ahead suffocated her.