Chapter 4. The Seven
Emily Trickett pushed the massive double doors open and stepped into her home, allowing the sunlight to spill into the vast antechamber.
The year at Hogwarts had been… enlightening. She learned a lot while teaching the young children. Patience the most. Some needed lessons repeated ad nauseam, while others were too busy 'subtly' admiring her to pay attention. But once she earned their trust and affection, their intensity decreased. The children were… pleasant, in their own ways. Even the professors had been supportive and welcoming towards their new colleague.
Dumbledore, of course, had been wary at first. But eventually he dropped the suspicion, convinced she was harmless.
'Harmless'
She bit back a smile.
Her musings were cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Mistress Lust." Her dearest servant made her way down the broad stairs.
Like the antechamber, the staircase was colossal. It was wide enough for a dozen people to walk abreast. It was constructed from polished green riverstone, and it gleamed whenever light fell upon it. Wrought iron railings flanked the great staircase, leading up to the first level, a balcony that overlooked the antechamber, that faced the massive double doors. This was it. The antechamber contained nothing else, no furniture, no paintings, just this massive staircase.
Hogwarts had been great, but this was home.
"Bella." Emily turned towards her favourite toy, who was dressed in a fitting black gown.
Bellatrix Lestrange was the one who gave her consciousness after the original Voldemort was vanquished. Emily had been trapped in Helga Hufflepuff's cup, dreaming of nothing, when Bella gave her a homunculus body. Why? Because that was what Voldemort instructed her in case he ever died: a way to bring him back. Unfortunately for him, Emily was not Tom Riddle, even if she had his memories. She was more akin to his daughter than a resurrected Voldemort, using his soul shard to construct a new psyche.
"I've missed you terribly, my lady." Bella kneeled before her, black hair curtaining her face, pale cleavage on display.
Emily slipped a single finger beneath her chin and tipped her head up. The dark locks fell away to reveal her noble, aristocratic face. High cheekbones, a small nose, a full mouth, and a pair of fanatic purple eyes. "Bella, have you lain with any of my siblings while I wasn't here?"
Now this would decide if she were going to kill her dearest lover or not. Emily had loved Bellatrix Lestrange from the moment she gained human consciousness. The moment she first saw her magnificent form, she had proclaimed Bellatrix to be the most beautiful woman ever conceived. But if her lover had strayed during their year-long separation, she'd have no choice but to take her life.
She had no use for stained flowers.
"No, mistress." Bellatrix sprang to her feet, clutching her hand. "I would never betray you. Even when Lord Pride and Lady Envy cornered me," her voice dropped to an anguished whisper, "to take me, I invoked your name. I told them how you'd erase them if they dared to take what's yours. Lord Greed and Lady Wrath came to my rescue then, and I was spared."
Emily grabbed her neck and slammed her against the wall, swallowing her shocked gasp, claiming her mouth in a possessive kiss. She was happy. Bella was still only hers. The press of her lips was hard and rough, a reclaim rather than a kiss of gentle reunion. Bella made a throaty sound in turn, her buxom body pressing desperately against hers, their silk clothes rustling together, seeking the familiar warmth they'd both been without.
When they pulled away for air, Emily buried her face in Bellatrix's warm neck and bit hard enough to draw blood, licking away the beads of red with her tongue, tasting her… and finding her pure and untainted.
Her loyal lover beamed and caressed the bloody mark, as if it were a prize.
It was.
"Here, give Sloth the body you've been preparing. In the meantime, I'll go check on my little siblings." Emily knew her tone was ice cold, her usually warm hazel eyes inky black. But that was given. Someone had tried to take what was hers. She'd need to teach Pride and Envy not to touch her toys.
Handing Bellatrix the swirling ball of mass that was Sloth, she climbed the stairs, aware of her lover's ravenous gaze on her body. Soon, they'd have their reunion in bed; soon, they'd be naked and twined. But first, she had to check on her dear family.
On the balcony, she entered the open door that led into the manor proper. A wide hallway stretched beyond, the marbled floor adorned with lush rugs. The paintings of the six siblings decorated the walls. Three brothers and three sisters. She was in the middle of all of them, the main subject. As was her right; she was the eldest.
The Trickett family was relatively new to Britain. They arrived here in 1982, just after the war ended. No one batted an eye when a French family decided to relocate. Why should they? Their family weren't the only ones who moved in once peace was established. And there actually was a paper trail left behind to give the illusion that they were connected to the extinct Trickett clan, but if someone were to look close enough, the deception would fall apart.
It was good they never gave anyone a reason to watch them too closely. All six siblings were respectable members of the society, and none outside knew of the war criminal, Bellatrix Lestrange, residing with them.
It was all good.
Marching with purposeful air, ignoring the branching ways on either wall, she reached the end of the hallway. The door opened before she could touch the knob. She took a deep breath and moved inside. Her newly learned patience skill was going to be put to the test.
The common room was large enough to host events, though they never did. A long table sat in the centre, the place where the six held their meetings and dined together like a true family. It wasn't used often, considering how busy they were with their own lives, but when it was, everyone knew the seating arrangements.
The head spot was always reserved for her. And at the end of one side, another chair remained unoccupied. Not for long. Sloth was here, at last.
"How many children did you fuck in that school of yours, Lust?" Envy welcomed her with a snide remark, all poison and barb. As she had expected.
Envy was extracted from the corpse of Nagini. Up until now, she was the youngest of the six, the spoiled one who got jealous of everyone and everything. Emily had no delusion that the girl would change now that Sloth was added to the mix—that she'd mature. Although she might not be the youngest anymore, or the weakest, suppressing their innate sin was impossible.
For Emily, it was lust. And for Isolde, it was envy.
Emily turned towards her with a blank expression.
Envy's form resembled a young adult, slender and feminine, but not… motherly like hers. She had the look of someone still on the cusp of life, someone who had just graduated Hogwarts. She brimmed with the insolence and lustre of youth. Her hair was long, a glamorous silver, and her eyes were a deep jade. Among the six, Envy was the most alluring. Yet, that did not stop her from coveting Emily's mature grace. Then again, Envy couldn't not be envy. That was her sin.
They each represented a unique sin that controlled them. It was because of the magic and the intentions Voldemort had imbued when crafting the horcruxes. He didn't know the full extent of the ritual then. And when Bellatrix removed her from the cup and gave her a body, it was made clear that the seven weren't just soul containers. They were their own beings, offshoots of the original Voldemort.
"Isolde," She addressed her youngest sister. "Come here."
Isolde dropped her haughty smirk and stood up, the chair scraping away from the table, tentatively making her way to Emily, her pretty face twitching, aware of what was coming, the hem of her white princess dress trailing along the floor. Yet, she did not humour running away. She wouldn't. Just how Emily loved Bellatrix for giving her a human psyche, all her siblings saw her in the same way. Someone to love and respect.
She brandished her wand calmly, "Crucio!" and Isolde dropped to her knees, clenching her jaw to suppress the scream, even as every nerve of hers flared with scorching pain. Although she was Envy, she had pride too. She wouldn't scream for them. Her meticulously styled silver hair hung loose over her shoulders, framing her tormented visage. A stream of tears began to drip down her cheeks, and her shoulders trembled as if holding the weight of the sky. Yet no noise left her pink lips.
Emily crouched and gently took her face in one hand, even as she tortured her with the other. "Did you try to take Bella?"
"Y-Yes." She gritted her teeth, her fingers gripping her long, shimmering skirt.
"Because you think Bella is a fine specimen of a woman? Because you were enchanted by her beauty?" Emily dropped the curse to allow her reprieve, caressing her delicate face as if she hadn't just tortured her.
"No." She shook her head, quivering, her lips twisting into a pained grimace. "I just wanted her because I can't have her."
Emily chuckled and kissed her softly, tasting her mouth, running fingers through her silky hair, rewarding her for being truthful, for being aware, and patting her head in the way she always liked.
Her sister kissed her back eagerly, prying open her mouth to deepen it, always happy for her attention.
The little whore.
When they broke away, she stroked Envy's face. "Why do you want her when you can have me, sweetie? Now, go, take your seat. I won't punish you further. Be careful next time."
Isolde struggled to stand up, so Emily helped her up, and if she took the opportunity to run her hand past her sister's waist and fondle her tight rear, Isolde didn't mind.
After helping Isolde, Emily sat in the head chair, glancing at each of her siblings. Pride, Wrath, Greed, Gluttony, and the newly humbled Envy.
On her immediate right sat Pride, tall and handsome with dark hair and blue eyes. He'd be a typical storybook knight if he were judged only on his appearance. In reality, he was the vilest among them, partaking in rape, murder, torture and everything in between. The good thing about him was that he only targeted muggles and didn't make a mess for them in the wizarding world.
Presently, he was trying not to appear guilty, aware she had not forgotten about him. He was the one who wanted to rape Bella. And his reasons were probably just spite and lust, to ruin Bella for her.
Pride was the second-born, her first sibling, the one she had uprooted from the diary. She had loved him the most at one point, proclaiming him her equal. Then… he had tried to kill her and usurp her place as the leader of the family. None of the others supported him, of course; their love for her was too strong, but it made it abundantly clear that Pride couldn't be trusted. She would've killed him if he weren't dear to her, if she didn't understand it was the sin controlling him.
"How are you, Victor?" She addressed him with a gentle smile, and the tension at the table became palpable.
"Better now that you're here, sister." Victor said in a saccharine voice, reaching for her hand before thinking better of it. "How was your stay at Hogwarts?"
"Interesting and fulfilling are the words I'd use," she replied, tying her hair in a quick bun. "And as you all know, I managed to find our lost sibling. The accidental one. He should be here soon."
"I still don't understand why you didn't kill the boy, Lust." Wrath growled from beside Pride, slamming her fist on the table. "Our progenitor lost his life because of him. You should have sliced Neville Longbottom's head and gifted it to his mother."
Wrath was the simplest of them all, always looking for a battle. Despite her sin and power, Emily trusted her the most. She was born after Pride, extracted from the Gaunt ring, and she was the least ambitious, with no penchant for cunning. She took the form of a big Amazonian woman, packing immense physical power without losing her lovely femininity. Her hair was just as dark as Emily's, but her eyes were crystal blue. And she had the largest… bust here, something they all loved about her.
"Quiet, Velora." Greed rubbed her back. "If the Longbottom boy was killed, Lust would be the first one they'd question. I think it's wise she didn't take him out. Why mess with the status quo and risk a war? War is a costly thing. Plus, there's the prophecy. Do we really want to test Fate? It didn't go well the first time."
Greed was a shrewd businessman, created following Wrath, formed from the soul shard found in Salazar's locket. Unlike Victor and Velora, who were in the ICW hit squad, who revelled in violence and carnage, her second brother was more interested in finance. She wouldn't be surprised if he already controlled Britain's economy, both the magical and the muggle side.
He was a thin, wiry man, never not wearing a business suit, always in a rush. Even now, he wasn't idle, typing away at his modified muggle phone, scheduling meetings and whatnot. Maybe this was why he was balding; the stress had to go somewhere. His once beautiful brown hair was peppered with grey, making him appear the oldest at the table even though he was not. Greed was probably the one most consumed by his sin.
Then there was Gluttony.
"I agree with Midas." Gluttony didn't even look up from his book, engrossed in the text. "I don't want Lust to be outed, to be forced into war. I'd rather keep reading my books."
Typically, the sin of gluttony was about consuming food. But since Hugo was born from Ravenclaw's Diadem, his sin revolved around consuming knowledge. She had never seen her brother without a book. He probably read even in the bathroom. His sin, while voracious, was the least detrimental. Where hers coerced her to fuck everything she found attractive, his just demanded he keep reading.
He was, no doubt, truly lucky.
He took the form of an indifferent young man, blonde-haired and spectacled. He was so absorbed in his reading that he cared for no one. Not even them. If they were in danger, Hugo wouldn't lift a finger until his own life was on the line. Perhaps his sin was not that harmless.
"There's going to be no war." She stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "I've grown to love my position as a professor. We're not doing anything to jeopardise that. And Isolde, find yourself a job too. You can't just sit around and do nothing."
Victor smirked. "She is useless, isn't she?"
Emily didn't answer, allowing them to bicker. It was true, though. Victor and Velora were ICW aurors, Midas was a well-known businessman, and even Hugo went out on missions to retrieve ancient tomes, expanding their library. Now Emily had become a Hogwarts professor. That left Isolde as the only one idle. And an idle Isolde would only cause problems for all of them.
The sound of lazy footsteps brought a hush on the table.
The boy that trudged into the room looked about Isolde and Hugo's age. Maybe a bit younger. He had short-cropped dark hair and sleepy grey eyes. He wore a baggy shirt and trousers, with the buttons done all wrong.
He dragged his feet to the only unoccupied chair and slumped into it. "Hello, there. Bye, there."
Then he was snoring, his face on the table, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.
…
…
Isolde poked him curiously, but he gave no response.
"That's Sloth, our long-lost brother. The accidental Horcrux. Let him sleep. We have an important matter of… naming him. That's why I called you all here." Emily leaned back in her chair, waiting for suggestions.
Velora growled in irritation, not here for that. Hugo didn't even bat an eye, flipping a page, pretending they didn't exist. Midas shot her a blood-curdling look, making it clear he wasn't impressed by the reason for the meeting. Only Victor and Isolde looked thoughtful.
"Silas?" Isolde offered.
"Doesn't even tangentially relate to him." Victor scoffed, shooting her down.
Emily clapped her hands, stopping their argument before it could devolve. "Perfect. Good job, Isolde. I couldn't have come up with a better name."
Her little sister beamed at the praise, while Victor deadpanned at her.
"Now, it's been a long year without you, my lovely brothers and sisters." Emily rose to her feet slowly, undoing the lace of her dress, tugging it past the swell of her breasts. "I fear I cannot wait a second longer. Let the Trickett family reunion finally convene. This is the real reason why we are here, isn't it?"
This was what they all looked forward to whenever they were together. Because when she was around, there was always sex. And just because they weren't Lust didn't mean their blood didn't thrum at the thought of a wild orgy. And their love for her was intense. They were like the little chicks whose first sight outside the eggshell was her face. Apart from Pride, none would ever think of harming her.
Pride perked up as her dress pooled at the floor and exposed her entirely. Envy stared at her with a gaping mouth, like a thirsty traveller who had at last found water. Even Wrath's ever-present anger subsided to allow desire to shine. Greed put his phone down and feasted his eyes on her nudity. The book shut close, and the uninterested Gluttony focused all his attention on her. Even Sloth's snores vanished, and he sat upright, his breath coming quick. For her littlest brother, this would be his first time.
"Victor, leave. You're hereby banned from the family orgy for a year. Next time you make a move against me, next time you try to hurt Bella, I'll ban you for life." She slapped his hand away as he tried to grab her breast.
His face fell, his eyes brimming with despair. "You can't exclude me, sister. You've never done that before."
"And you've never tried to take Bella before. But you did in my absence. And this is your punishment. Leave quickly, or do I need to extend it?"
Rage, sorrow, petulance. She saw all those in his eyes, but he didn't turn his wand on her, opting to flounce away and shut the door behind him, probably going to torment some muggles.
"Now, we are six: three men and three women. Perfect. I'll first welcome our newest brother." She sauntered behind Sloth's chair before sliding into his lap. Her back was flush against his chest, and so was her bare arse on his crotch.
She moaned as Sloth's hands tentatively found her breasts, as he kissed her shoulders and squeezed her flesh. Silas was his name from now onwards, she reminded herself.
A quick glance showed that the others had begun as well.
Isolde was on her knees, happily servicing Hugo. Velora was bent over the table as Midas prepared to take her from behind. And Silas finally dared to spread her knees and caress her nether lips.
She arched in his lap, resting the back of her head on his shoulder. "You can be rougher, little brother. I won't break."
That was all the encouragement he needed, and she found herself bent over the table just like Velora. Their faces were close enough that they could engage in a kiss. And that was what they did. While their brothers rutted into them from behind, they mashed their lips together.
This would go on for hours. It was not every day they were all together at the same time. Now that they were, the family reunion wouldn't end until they all had a go at each other. She was looking forward to sucking Velora's massive breasts. But the most euphoric experience would be dominating Isolde's exquisite body while her brothers manhandled her.
If only Victor wasn't such a shortsighted fool, he wouldn't have been forced to miss this.
~xXxXx~
Neville's scar had always bothered Alice. The moment she regained her health, she began researching about it. She had scoured the library in the Longbottom Manor and even visited Potter Manor to extend her search. The more she learned, the more she realised she had to get it off as quickly as possible. The scar was a leech at best… or a horcrux at worst.
That only spurred her to spend more time searching for a cure.
But a few days ago, her son returned home for the summer holidays… and the lightning-bolt-shaped scar had vanished from his forehead.
She had been thoroughly confused and overjoyed, unable to believe that the problem went away on its own. When she asked Neville, he confessed he didn't remember how it vanished. For him, he went to sleep with a scarred forehead and woke up with an unmarred one.
Whatever the reason, she was relieved. She no longer had to worry about her boy. He was alright. That was the reason why she was here at Potter Manor—to celebrate.
"Cheers." Lily clinked their wineglasses. "For the good health of our precious children."
"For our children." She smiled, sipping the wine and making a face. Wine was always too sweet for her. She preferred a heady whisky.
After three bottles, Lily was all giggly, and Alice… she became morose, her head swirling with the memories of her husband, of the bloody war. The alcohol affected them in opposite ways. It freed Lily from her inhibitions and fed her ecstasy. For Alice, though, it dredged up the despair of the dark days.
She shouldn't have drunk so much, she cursed herself.
"'Member that (hic)... that threesome with James?" Lily giggled, lying on her back and kicking up her feet like a schoolgirl.
Alice scowled and shook her head, getting annoyed for no reason, drawling, "Don't make s-stuff up."
"AM NOT!" Lily barked, wobbling over to her unsteady feet and towering over her. "Sev'nth year! In the Prefect bath… bath-room!"
She furrowed her brow and tried to remember. She came up blank. There was no such memory. "You were always a s-slut," she mumbled, jumping to her feet as well. "I do not do t-threesomes."
Lily opened her mouth to bite back, then she clicked her jaw shut. "I might be mis-missre–missmembering!"
Alice was pretty sure that was not a word, but she understood the intent. "You are."
"Alice, let's celebrate!" Lily giggled again, stumbling out of the living room, forgetting their fight. "I have a peasant for you."
"Present, you mean." Alice sighed, following her clumsily.
They entered the master bedroom. She was getting tired and dropped on the bed while Lily traced her wand on one wall awkwardly.
At the fifth attempt, something finally happened.
"Ta da!" A section of the wall lowered into the ground, revealing a metal staircase leading down. "Follow me, Alice. I have a peasant for you. You will… (hic) will love it."
Alice, surprised and tired, rolled off the bed and stumbled after her down into the hidden basement.
It was a bare concrete room with a man chained in a corner.
…
…
Wait, what?
She sobered up when she identified him. Rage drowned the despair; an icy feeling chased away the fuzz of intoxication.
The man huddled in the corner had sallow skin and greasy black hair. He was more skeleton than man now, with visible ribs and a mutilated… groin.
"Sevvy!" Lily chortled and kneeled before him, patting his head like a pet. "Do you (hic) love me… me? Even now?"
The dark, exhausted eyes still had a glimmer of intelligence in them.
He worked his throat and rasped. "Always."
That sent Lily into a fit of uproarious laughter.
"I love you too, Sevvy. My old friend." Lily said tenderly, kissing his dirty forehead. Then she pointed her wand at him and shrieked. "Crucio!"
Alice flinched and stepped back as the wretched man screamed and fought against his restraints, clawing at his chest hard enough to gouge his skin.
That night, Alice realised her friend's depravity. That night, she found her own.
~xXxXx~
Deep in the Albanian woods, the shadow of the Dark Lord endured, biding his time until a faithful servant would come to deliver him from exile.