FicWad

I’m not your normal type of girl. Basically it’s because I’m a sorceress. Sorceresses and Sorcerers are basically wizards and witches that can use magic without a wand or any other appliance. Except any magic we do is very weak. For example a stunning spell sent by an average powered witch or wizard would easily break through any shield I put it. This is basically why I don’t use magic, if I can help it. I was probably a bit of a disappointment to my mother or my father, or both, because days after I was born I was left on the doorsteps of an orphanage.
The only thing I’ve got to remind me of where I came from is a strange tattoo on my forearm that sometimes moves, sometimes doesn’t. It fades and it comes back, and then it burns. I don’t like it, in fact I detest it, and I have no way of getting rid of it. Every time I do it just keeps on coming back again and again. Like any other sane person I want to know where it came from and why I have it. It’s probably a clue to who my parents were. Except I don’t flaunt it around asking random people if they know what it means. The first time I did it I was almost locked up. No one would tell me the reason. That had been my first experience of the Wizarding world. I don’t go back there that often, as you can probably believe.
I guess the reason I didn’t get caught is because of my appearance. I’m not that noticeable. For starters I’m not pretty. I’m a plain, eyes a bit to close together, nose slightly too long, mouth slightly to full. The only things I actual like and ever get compliments on is my hair and my eyes. Black and dark. Slightly spooky if I wear the right clothes and make-up but otherwise normal in both Goth-infested worlds. People avoid me or ignore me because of it, and I don’t mind. I’m a natural loner. Independent, wild, probably self-absorbed (as some have told me). I don’t need anyone. I don’t need family, friends, lovers, or any other type of partner anyone could come up with. I am me, without any strings attached (except my tattoo but that’s easily hidden with armbands and long sleeves). My name is Sally Black, completely ordinary and a name that I gave myself. It used to be Ceara. A bad name, uncommon, unnecessarily difficult spelling. Sally on the other hand is simple, neat and most people will forget it within seconds.
A good name when you’re creeping around the Ministry of Magic in the dead of Night. I hate that telephone box. It’s so loud. So the telephone box was my only option. The Ministry isn’t a busy place at Night. A couple of workers stumble blearily around, before going of to finish paper work or wander home. No one notices the girl in the shadows. And if they do she’s gone before they realize what they have seen. I spent years perfecting the art of walking silently and quickly. They think I’m a hallucination or a figment of their half asleep minds.
The ministry has a lot of interesting documents in it. Left unguarded by careless Aurors, and Ministry Workers. Unfortunately of late, the ministry’s security has been heightened. Some dark lord has come back into the open. Remains of a battle still linger in the Atrium. Right now I was trying to replace a file I really shouldn’t have had and it was proving rather difficult. The office I had got it from was now triple locked and an Auror stood at the door. I could have just left it in the hallway, but they would have known someone had seen it, and would treble the already trebled security. Also I was a perfectionist and being found out would be the very bottom of perfection.
So I tried the danger thing. It only takes a small bit of magic to cut of someone’s blood supply for a few seconds and that’s what I did. Sometimes that’s all you have to do. Wizards never think like that, with them its always big and exciting, not beneath the belt. Unfortunately I had forgotten about the cloaks those Weasley twins were selling at their shop. Cutting of someone’s blood is a charm and it can be repelled with a shield charm. Which is what happened, with a flurry of sparks that got the man’s attention. This caused him to shoot leg-locking and stupefying charms of in all directions. This wasn’t any good for me. Shadows don’t protect, they just hide. And I hadn’t enough money to buy one of those cloaks.
Needless to say a leg-locking curse hit me. Not for the first or the last time I wished I was a proper witch not just a weak sorceress. A bright light flickered at the end of his wand and a bearded face loomed over me. ‘Well, well, what do we have here’ he barked at me. I tried to somehow get away. Needless to say it only caused me to fall over. He poked me with his wand. Then sniffed and called the security.
About five minutes later I was seated in front of the very same Auror, who looked extremely angry. Probably something to do with the fact I wasn’t talking. ‘What the hell were you doing in the Ministry at one o’clock in the morning!’ he shouted and slammed his fist on the table. Again I refused to answer. His voice grew low and angry. ‘If you don’t answer were going to have to use Veritaserum’. I gulped. There was no way I was going to drink Veritaserum. Nasty stuff.
‘I wasn’t doing anything wrong’ I said quietly.
‘Wrong’ he repeated. ‘Only Death Eaters and people of dubious nature creep around at night and use magic against highly trained Aurors such as myself. Death eaters and extremely stupid people’ I kept my mouth shut. What the hell was a Death Eater? I had heard it before. Read of it, but it wasn’t described anywhere. They weren’t nice people, as I had found out in some of the files I had ‘borrowed’. ‘Check her arms’ he said disdainfully to the Auror next to him. ‘And find her wand, I couldn’t see it on her’
The Auror was girl. Prettyish, with a serious face and slightly hollowed eyes. She glanced towards the man as he spoke. She was obviously the lesser of the two judging by the way he spoke to her. The girl with a flick of her wand cut the ropes binding my wrists and twisted my left arm upwards. Harshly she pushed my sleeves back. The tattoo, choosing to be clear stood out like a beacon. She glanced quickly to the man. He frowned. ‘What’s a girl of fourteen doing with the Dark mark on her forearm?’
‘I’m fifteen’ I corrected stiffly ‘What’s a dark mark?’ The woman stiffened.
‘This is a dark mark’ she said pushing my arm in front of my face. ‘It s the mark the death eaters wear. Don’t act like an idiot’ she glared at me. I winced. I wasn’t an idiot, I was just ignorant.
‘Well I’m not a death eater so that can’t be right’ the woman just rolled her eyes and began using her wand to search for my supposed wand.
‘The dark mark proves you’re a death eater’ the man said.
‘She’s got no wand on her’ the woman added.
‘Where’s your wand girl’ the man asked sharply.
‘I ain’t got one’
‘Impossible’ the woman concluded. The man glared at her. She threw her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m going’ she threw a look at him and walked out slamming the door behind her.
‘Why haven’t you got one girl?’
‘Isn’t it obvious’
‘Not particularly’ I grinned as he said it. Sorceresses weren’t generally well known. Time to broaden this man’s horizons.
‘I’m a sorceress’ I said and laughed at the confused look on his face.
‘There’s no such thing’ he shouted. ‘Mara get in here and look after this thing’ The door opened cautiously and the woman stalked in. ‘If anything happens your out’ he warned.
‘Yes Sir’
He frowned and walked away. The woman turned to look at me with a stony glare.
Well this would be fun. Not.