Summary: After being stripped of most of your magic, one would think that you would shrink away from the magical world and live life as a Muggle. But with the help of her grandmother, Gabrielle, Clarisse Arnolds, a half-blood, saunters into Slytherin house as though she owns it. A star student, a brilliant athlete, and a descendant of two of the most ancient wizarding families of earth, Clarisse puts Draco Malfoy in his place! But when it comes time to choose her path in life, what is she to do? Will she join the Order of the Pheonix and bring an end to the Dark Lord's reign of terror? Or will she join the other Slytherins and pledge her allegiance to the Dark Lord, thus becoming the most trusted and faithful of all his servants? Follow her on her life's story and find out.
Marissa Arnolds looked down fondly at her newborn daughter, Clarisse. She and her husband, Jonathan, had debated on the name for a while and finally decided that Clarisse was a perfect name. Unfortunately, since Jonathan was a muggle (much to the chagrin of Marissa's Pureblood family), he was not permitted into St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to witness his first child's birth. The most he could do was wait outside the building nervously as his wife gave birth. Marissa frowned at the injustice, but when Clarisse gave a huge yawn, all thoughts of treatment towards muggles vanished. Marissa just continued to look down at her perfect daughter.
She had her father's eyes; there was no questioning that. They were bright blue, like two perfect little sapphires. She had her mother's nose and ears as well, but who she greatly resembled would be decided when she was older.
There was a knock at the door.
"Mrs. Arnolds," called Healer Rombach, "may I come in?"
"Yes, Healer," Marissa called. The door opened revealing a painfully thin woman with limp brown hair and dark brown eyes.
"It is standard procedure, since the child's father is a muggle, that Clarisse is tested to see whether or not she is a witch," the Healer said.
"Oh, yes. Of course," Marissa said, though she was frowning. A part of her hoped that Clarisse had no magical abilities. Marissa knew that this was a selfish thought, but she just couldn't help it. It would make life simpler if she was a squib.
Marissa handed her daughter carefully to the Healer. When she had gone, Marissa sighed and reached out to the table beside her. She picked up a wand and a solid silver locket. She twirled the wand between her fingers and sighed again at her decision. She knew what she was going to do. She knew that Clarisse might hate her for it later, but for now, it was the only way to simplicity.
The Healer came back about twenty minutes later declaring Clarisse a surprisingly powerful witch. Marissa forced a smile. This is what she had been waiting for.
When the Healer had gone, Marissa lifted her wand and pointed it at Clarisse's throat.
"I am sorry, little one," Marissa nearly sobbed. "It is easier this way." Clarisse merely looked at her mother with an innocence that only an infant could ever possess. Marissa nearly changed her mind, but she knew that she had to do this. No matter what happened, she would know that she had made the right choice.
"Magica Siphonus," she whispered. A blinding white light surrounded Clarisse's neck and she started to cry. Marissa directed her wand towards the locket and the light followed. When the light hit the locket, the locket glowed as though it were absorbing the light. Marissa felt tears sting her eyes but she blinked them back. This had to be done.
Almost all of the light was inside of the locket. Everything was going to be fine. Nothing seemed able to go wrong with Marissa's plan, but it did. Clarisse, who was still crying, grabbed at her mother's hand that was holding the wand. The path of the rest of the white light circled around both of their heads and siphoned itself back into Clarisse.
"No!" Marissa cried, but when she did she knew that she had made a mistake. She heard many footsteps running towards the door to her hospital room. Marissa didn't have time to repeat the ritual. So instead, she took the locket and put it around Clarisse's neck. Almost instantly the newborn stopped crying. Marissa held her close and whispered,
"You shall understand when you are older, Clarisse." The newborn continued to look at her mother. Marissa brought Clarisse's tiny hand to her lips, tears still spilling out of her eyes. She had done the right thing, hadn't she? She had just bought her family simplicity, right? Marissa surely hoped so.
Just then Healer Rombach burst back into the room.
"Is every- is everything alright?" she panted. It was clear she had come because of Marissa's screaming.
"Yes, Healer. Why do you ask?" Marissa hoped desperately she sounded convincing. Apparently she did because Healer Rombach flushed.
"N-nothing. Just checking. You must be exhausted, Mrs. Arnolds. I shall take Clarisse while you sleep. In fact, I think Clarisse needs her sleep as well."
Marissa bit her lip as though she was about to refuse, but one look at Clarisse's tired little face forced her to allow the Healer to take her to the nursery where the other newborns were.
Healer Rombach was right, though. Marissa did need to sleep. She had given birth to her Clarisse; that was enough to drain the energy out of any person. She lay back in the hospital bed and closed her eyes. She tried not to think about the fact that she had just drained the magic out of her daughter and siphoned it into the locket. Well, at least she had drained most of her daughter's magic.
Eleven Years Later
Marissa was making dinner for Jonathan, Clarisse, and herself. They were a simple family, yet they were happy in their simplicity. Marissa had wanted this.
As it turned out, Clarisse looked almost identical to her mother with her sleek black hair and good naturedly pouting lips. But she definitely had her father's eyes. Clarisse also had never shown any magical abilities. Marissa couldn't have been happier for this. She had been afraid that since a little bit of Clarisse's magic was still inside of her, that she would still be able to do magic.
This fear had been for naught, however. Clarisse was a Squib, just as Marissa had wanted her to be.
As it was, Marissa was actually making Clarisse's birthday dinner. Clarisse was eleven years old today, and she couldn't be happier. All her life, she had been saying that something special was going to happen to her on her eleventh birthday. She said that she didn't know how she knew it; she just knew it.
At first Marissa had been worried about this. What if Clarisse was magic after all? But after thinking the situation through, she deduced Clarisse's suspicions as childish imagination, for she had never told her daughter about the magical world, though Clarisse always wore the locket that, unbeknownst to her, contained most of her magic.
Suddenly Marissa heard the sound of feet running down the stairs and she knew that it was Clarisse.
Seconds later, the slim figure that was Clarisse entered the kitchen. Her bright blue eyes were glazed and her hair was swept into a ponytail. Marissa took this to mean that she was thinking about something important. Her left hand was also behind her back as if she were hiding something.
"Well, hello, birthday girl," Marissa said after a moment. Clarisse suddenly snapped back into focus and smiled at her mother.
"Hi mum," was all she said, for her eyes still looked questioning. Marissa turned back to the stove. There was silence for at least ten minutes. Finally, Marissa asked,
"Did that special thing happen today like you thought, Clarisse?" She hadn't been serious with this question. She had expected her daughter to say no and that it was coming. Therefore, she was surprised to hear her daughter say,
"I think so." Her left hand was still behind her back.
"What happened, then?" Marissa asked. She didn't know what to expect. Her daughter was often vague about some things. But Marissa knew that it involved whatever was behind her daughter's back.
Clarisse sighed and looked her mother very hard in the face.
"I got a letter today," she said quietly.
"From who, dear?" Marissa asked.
"Well, that's kind of what I wanted to ask, mum." A look of dawning horror came across Marissa's face. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. She faced her daughter.
"What do you want to ask, Clarisse?" Marissa whispered.
She brought her hand out from behind her back and dropped an envelope on the countertop. "What's Hogwarts?" she asked.
Marissa felt faint.