Italics=dreams/memories
My tiny body struggled as I was dragged into the building where I knew that Natasha worked. I knew that she wouldn't want to see me but the man wouldn't let go. I landed I good hit to his nose but he didn't react except for cursing and pausing for a moment.
"Don't you want to see that your Mother is all right?" He said, exasperated.
I struggled harder.
"Na'asha does na wan' me ta see her weak! She wi' be mad!" I tried to sound serious but I still had trouble pronouncing L's and T's.
The agent laughed at me and continued carrying me up to the infirmary.
When I was finally placed on the ground I looked up to see Natasha lying in bed, bandages visible. When she heard my footsteps she was immediately awake and alert. I studied my toes, hoping that she was not mad that I saw her without her untouchable persona.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see her stiffen, in a cold voice she delivered the order I had been waiting for.
"Get out."
Now the man who had carried me in looked between the two of us in shock, as I shuffled out of the room he gave me a long apologetic look, I just scowled at him.
In the car ride back to the house it was a different agent who drove me.
…
All of the breath was knocked out of me as Natasha's fist buried itself into my stomach. As I struggled to breathe, I wondered if she had broken my ribs. I stumbled around, desperately trying to keep my body upright. She was relentless, dancing around me in a flurry of endless strikes. I was beyond disoriented, and the hits seemed to be coming from all around. Eventually I just fell to my knees, curling into myself and wrapping my arms around my head.
"I give up. I give up. I give up. I give up. Stop it. Please."
Unconsciousness was welcomed when the heel of a boot was slammed down on the back of my head.
…
The dementors came closer to my cell. They loved to feed off of my emotions as I was the youngest prisoner with stronger emotions, yet I still had horrible experiences in my short life.
I screamed as I relived every broken bone, every slash in my flesh and every wound I had endured during Natasha's strict training regime. The worst was the overwhelming feeling of loneliness, whenever Natasha left me alone, tutors only visiting once in a while. I never knew when or if she would be back, and she was all I had.
I screamed and screamed and screamed. I pinched the delicate flesh on the inside of my arm to bring myself back to reality. I was losing the battle with my sanity. Squeezing my skin to the point where it split was no longer enough. I scratched at my arm, trying to feel something, to let myself know that I was alive, that it wasn't a dream.
…
I sat up straight in bed as fingers brushed my shoulder; he knew enough to jump backwards before I had the chance to strike out, not yet aware of my surroundings. I looked down at my arms, they were still pale and scarred, but I had regained my muscle after proper nutrition and my morning routine.
It was Draco, this morning, who had come to help me with my nightmares. I had told the Slytherin house that they need not bother with it. I could put up silencing wards around my room and they would not be disturbed by my screams. They insisted that Slytherins took care of their own, since the other students always seemed against them.
It was not an odd thing for the children sorted into the house of the snakes to have a gruesome or scarring past. It was often that history that caused them to become calculating or 'sneaky' as the other houses might say.
Draco sat on the bed beside me as I slowly relaxed back into the mattress. "It was just I nightmare, everything is okay now."
"It was not 'just a nightmare' it is my life. Do not lie to me." I snarled, before feeling somewhat ashamed, he was only trying to help.
I didn't take back the comment, but turned my face from his to examine the ancient stone wall.
"You know very well that war is already upon is, and my dear mother's training has made both sides fear me and want me for an ally." I turned back to look at Draco's now emotionless features. They had hardened and his pale skin resembled porcelain. He would be required to fight for Voldemort or watch his parents die.
"I will not fight for the man who put my father and I in Azkaban, but I will not fight for a madman bent on world domination. I fear this will make both sides hunger for my destruction."
Draco nodded to acknowledge what I had said before he sat back and thought over the words.
"Have you ever thought of leaving? You will not be safe at Hogwarts. Dumbledore will not remain idle for much longer, and if you are not with him than he will be forced get rid of you." He repeated the words that I had been forcing myself to overlook in my denial.
"Summer holidays begin shortly; I do not think I will return for a second year of schooling at this fine institution." I made my decision and decided to track down my favourite tutor from before Azkaban.
I shooed Draco back to bed and got changed into work-out clothes to continue the training that had been hammered into me by Natasha, my mother.
There was a room in one of the many confusing corridors of Hogwarts that was whatever the occupant desired it to be. I had found it after receiving the news that my father had been killed. I was running through the hallways in a rage and the only thought in my mind was that I needed a room where it was safe to let my magic go free.
A door appeared in a blank spot on the wall and I opened it with such force that it left a dent in the castle wall. The door closed behind me and promptly disappeared as I stepped into a labyrinth of junk. I screamed and smashed my fist into the first thing I reached. My magic exploded from where my fist landed on the solid wooden bookcase. Instead of receiving a broken fist, everything within a 5 meter radius was sent flying towards the far edges of the room. I have no further memories of that night and when I woke up I was no longer in that setting, but lying on a comfy bedroom.
I found the same hallway on the seventh floor and traced the small dent in the wall with my fingertips. I closed my eyes and focused all my thoughts on creating a private forest with a trail to run on. It would have smooth rolling hills and a sparkling lake to run beside. When I opened my eyes there was an old wooden door in front of me. I opened it and came to face with the landscape that I had been picturing in my mind.
The sun warmed my skin and as I closed the door behind me I listened to the bird' song and the frog's croaking. Before me was a well-worn trial, I left my cloak at the door and began to jog towards the forest. Today the trail was longer than usual but I kept with my routine of steadily increasing my speed until I was sprinting along the lakeside. I focused on my magic and directed it towards my legs, heart and lungs so that I would be able to keep my insane pace.
After reaching the door at the end of the loop I walked around the lake to cool down my straining muscles and catch my breath. I sat down and pressed my hands into the grass; closing my eyes I imagined the wooden floor of a gymnasium beneath my fingers. I could picture the equipment I would need for training and the life-like dummies that would be able to fight me in different forms of combat. When my eye opened the room had changed to look exactly as it had in my mind. Now I could start the real morning exercises.
I went through the training methodically as I had been taught to. Stretching came before muggle fighting and then I moved onto practice with my wandless magic. Before being locked away in the famed wizarding prison, I had only begun lessons in magic without the use of a focus. Since my wand being snapped I had forced myself to develop my wandless abilities to nearly the same level as with a wand. Despite the public's belief, Azkaban did not have any wards preventing the use of magic, the few human guards needed to be able to protect themselves in the case of an escape. However, most of the magical world wasn't able to perform magic without a wand, and so the knowledge had been lost with the passing of time.
Since being proved innocent I had not been able to find a wand that molded with my magical core the same way my first wand had. In Hogwarts I pretended to use a twig as a wand to avoid suspicion; with the Hogwarts curriculum, it was almost too easy to perform all the necessary spells wandlessly.
I was finished with training, but as always, I was nearly late for breakfast. I might have been on time but it was a rule that all students must be in uniform while in classes or the great hall. I had to rush down to the Slytherin dorms in the dungeons to get changed and gather my books, before running back up to the great hall. I always went as quickly as I could so that I could pick up on the morning's news.
I waved a hand over myself as I entered the great hall, to get rid of all the sweat that had accumulated since I had woken up. A few people turned to look, some sending glares. Rumors traveled quickly in Hogwarts, and it was widely believed that I was a dark witch, and the evidence was stacked against me. 1, sorted into Slytherin, 2, the Black heir, 3, previous stay in Azkaban, 4, good at class work. Yes, the student body had decided that since I studied, I must be evil.
I ignored everybody in favor of sliding into a seat beside Draco. I absently put some food on my plate while listening in on the conversation between the rest of the Slytherin Sixth years. Theodore Nott seemed to be all worked up that Voldemort was marking people before they were even out of Hogwarts.
"Draco already has a mission." I gave my information as Draco gave me his worst glare. "Relax, nobody can hear us, I set up a ward." Draco still looked unhappy.
"I never told you." I guess he decided not to deny my claim.
Blaise Zambini seemed shocked. "So you do? You have a mission from the Dark Lord?"
Draco ignored the question in favor of interrogating me. "How did you know?" it was more of a demand than a question.
I just shrugged. "You haven't eating," I pointed to his empty plate. "I followed you."
Nott had a grim look on his face. "So we've run out of time, we'll be forced to take the mark."
I laughed in his face. "You go right ahead, I'm not pledging my life to a madman."
"The Dark Lord will hunt you down; you are more powerful than us." Zambini this time, concerned not of my where my loyalties lie, but concerned for my life. Maybe none of my generation actually wanted to follow Voldemort.
Nott was already a step ahead of him. "If it is madmen you don't like than you won't be working for Dumbledore."
I smirked at this. "You always seem to be forgetting that I had a life before Azkaban. I have some powerful contacts that need to be tracked down, not to mention all of the possibilities I could have in the muggle world."
"We haven't forgotten that you existed before we knew you, you just refuse to give any information on your life before Azkaban." Draco seemed to be offended by the small comment, though his frustration was warranted. He was always the one who offered himself as a confidant to tell about all that I had lost with my imprisonment.
The others seemed more concerned with my implication that I was comfortable in the muggle world. "How could you fit in to the muggle world, I have heard that it is vastly different than the magical world?" This came from Nott and came as a shock to me.
"Is nobody aware that my mother is a muggle?" I seemed to be as shocked as they were.
Zambini was the first to answer. "No, it has been a constant mystery as to who your mother was. You have always been so secretive that we have never bothered to ask."
"How did your father even meet a muggle?" Nott seemed to be trying to piece it together in his head.
"The muggle pub that she was at got caught in a Death Eater raid and she took down a few of the Death Eaters and became the only muggle survivor. The Order took her in for questioning because they were puzzled as to how she managed to fight without magic. She decided to fight for the Order as a way out of her job as a muggle assassin working with a vicious crime organization. She still thinks that Sirius is guilty, and I haven't had contact with her since I was twelve." I had thought of this as common knowledge in the wizarding world, stuff that had been published in the Daily Prophet upon my arrest.
They just stared at me as I unloaded all of this information on them. Draco was the first to shake himself out of his dazed state. "Your mother is a muggle? And she is an assassin?"
"Yeah, but after Voldemort killed the Potters she started working for a muggle government organization in America. I don't know if she is still there or not. She might have gone back to Russia." I said all of this just in time for the food to disappear from the table to signal that we should get to class.
I stood up and gathered my books. "We can keep talking in the halls, we have defense first, all of us are taking that."
Zambini seemed to be confused. "But the silencing ward…?"
"It will follow us," He looked like he was about to talk again but I interrupted. "I know that it is impossible, but I had a good tutor."
Draco was quick to speak up. "Who was your tutor?" Apparently he decided that I was in a sharing mood.
"Not telling, I am only telling you about my mother, not me. I actually was under the impression that you knew all of this." I told him very matter of fact.
Theo seemed to want to get back to the fact that I was raised by an assassin. "Is your mother the reason that you went to Azkaban to find Black?"
I shook my head, "No, his betrayal hit her hard; she hated him by that point."
"Then why?" Blaise let his confusion show.
I turned to him with a snarl. "That is none of your business; maybe I just wanted a chat with Dear-Old-Dad."
It had been Christmas Eve, and Natasha left on a mission. She left without as much as a goodbye. The only warning I received was a note on the kitchen table stating that I shouldn't expect her back for a couple weeks. Christmas had never been amazing before, but we had always swapped a gift and ate dinner together that day. She may have been cold, but I had never expected her to skip out and leave me alone for the holidays. So I decided to visit some other family instead.
Nobody had spoken since my most recent outburst and it didn't appear as though conversation would restart anytime soon. I took down the silencing ward and followed the others through a shortcut to the defense classroom.
I was the only Slytherin that didn't escape Snape's wrath during classes. As Sirius Black's daughter I was immediately placed under ridicule despite the fact that I had been raised to hate the man. Harry always received the worst of his taunts but a class never ended without the Gryffindors laughing at my expense. That class was to be particularly horrible, and I was already enraged before entering the dimly lit classroom.
After taking a seat next to Draco my mind began to wander. I was brought back to the memories of the Christmas day I was sentenced to Azkaban when I was only twelve years old.
During a trial they had been forced to place me under a silencing spell because I had such a strong reaction to the dementors that I couldn't stop screaming. I was completely unaware of the entire proceeding because of all the cuts, bruises and broken bones that I was reliving. Add onto that the overwhelming despair and my Mother's voice telling me over and over that I was worthless, that I was a mistake. I couldn't get a handle on myself.
Snape's voice brought me back to reality. "…third year there were a number guarding the school from Sirius Black." He looked at me when he said his name. "Today we will be studying these creatures and the ways to counter their powers of despair."
This couldn't be good, there was only one magical creature with "powers of despair" and a lesson on them could not lead to anything good.
"First I would like to show you this pensieve memory of the effects that Dementors have on person."
When the pensieve projected the image of a court room at the front of the classroom I felt my heart skip a beat. The girl sitting shackled to the chair was glaring defiantly at the crowd that had assembled for the trial that Christmas as an auror led two dementors towards the prisoner. I hadn't thought the man to be that cruel, but apparently his childhood grudge matched no other.
The class turned to look at my reaction to seeing myself used in the demonstration, but I just kept watching it even as my twelve year old self's eyes glazed over and horrible screams ripped from her throat.
I sat back in my chair and looked around to see the students all looking at me different now. They must have realized that I must have experienced great pain in my life in order to have such a violent reaction to the dementors. I watched them as they realized that I had been left to that torture for three and a half years.
I tilted my head to the side and spoke as innocently as possible, carefully concealing all of the barely controlled rage. "Professor, what point are you making by showing this to my year mates? Might I request that we watch you tear your vocal chords while screaming next? I wonder if your screams might have been worse. Seeing the faces of all those you tortured for your Lord must have been hard."
The screams in the background were cut off with a silencing charm from an auror.
Snape ignored me and addressed the students. "Short term exposure to Dementors will cause a person to relive their worst memories. After more exposure the victim might start to have hallucinations and confront some of their fears instead of true events." He paused and looked over the students while dutifully ignoring my presence. "Some prisoners at Azkaban become lost inside of their own mind, and lose all sense of reality." Now he looked at me again, and I could see in his eyes that the next part of this lesson would be payback for my earlier statement.
"Whatever you are planning, Professor, I wouldn't do it. You always seem to forget what my mother was like. Just imagine how I was raised." I spoke quietly, but no-one in the classroom could deny that the threatening tone was anything but deadly.
I found myself once again ignored as the hated professor continued on. "The next memory will show you what somebody might look like after three and a half years of Azkaban."
He had already switched to the next memory before I could comprehend what he was willing to show to my peers. The memory showed me when Snape and Dumbledore had come to retrieve me upon proving my father innocent.
Shadows approached my cell so I pushed myself away from the bread and water at my feet and curled into a ball in the corner. I was clothed in filthy rags that were stained with dirt and blood and the walls were covered in lines that I had drawn every other meal. Matted hair covered my face and my voice was scratchy as I talked to myself.
"For my safety. It was for my safety. She loved me. She loved me. It was for my safety."
The shadows were at the cell door now, but I didn't feel the cold that was normally associated with Dementors. When the door slowly opened I could see the two men that had come to take me from the prison. I tried to speak to them, but I couldn't say more than a whisper.
They moved slowly as if approaching an injured animal and the one with the beard had asked if I could stand. I tried but fell back to the ground so Snape levitated my body. When I was forced off of the ground the cloth covering my arms disappeared and the thousands of small scars were revealed. Some were little red crescent-shaped cuts while others were long scratches. It was almost impossible to see the pale white skin beneath the blood and scabs.
Then a portkey was pressed into my palm and the world disappeared to a tunnel of light.
Draco was shaking my shoulder while Blaise shouted at Snape. I was out of my seat before I even fully recognized where I was. Snape saw my approach and shot a quick disarming spell at me. The empty piece of wood that I had pretended to use flew across the room at him as well as a muggle gun and no less than five knives.
The class had long ago been stunned into silence but there was an audible gasp when I simply raised my hand and all of the muggle weapons were returned to my person. Next I slashed my hand through the air in front of me and a bloody gash appeared across the professor's chest. With a flick of the wrist he was hanging upside down. I walked up to Snape and planted my fist in his nose. There was an audible crunch as his nose broke, and he just hung there, unconscious. With that I turned on my heal and exited the classroom.
Draco ran out of the classroom behind me and matched my quick steps. "What you did…"
I stopped him before he could finish the sentence. "Don't tell me I was foolish and reckless. People need to know that they can't push me around."
I stopped abruptly and turned to face him. Draco stopped as well. His face was carefully neutral, knowing that I was not completely in control of myself.
"I was going to say that you were right, Snape was completely out of line." Draco was still calm, though a touch of annoyance came through. "I don't know what he was thinking, if you don't kill him for that than the Dark Lord will kill him for angering a potential ally."
"My father nearly killed Snape when they were in school. James Potter is the only reason that Snape is still alive." I looked for a reaction from Draco, something to prove that he might side with his godfather over me. That was when Draco began to look angry.
"If you think that an incident that happened before you were even born gives Snape the right to torment you than you are truly insane." Draco was barely containing his rage. "You know all that my father has done, but you are still my friend. You weren't even raised by Black, Snape is a bastard."
I started walking again. "Good answer." Draco jogged a couple steps to catch up. "Are you coming with me to visit the Headmaster?" I asked as I set a brisk pace towards the headmaster's office.
"No." The answer came quickly and I spun around to face him. I reached out a hand to stop him. We just stood there for a moment, studying each other's faces.
"Why?" I stated bluntly.
Draco paused a moment "You can see Dumble..." I cut him off mid-sentence.
"No." I let Draco puzzle for a moment. "It's your mother isn't it? Voldemort will kill her unless you follow him."
He brought up his barriers and Draco's face immediately became stony and unemotional. I tried to make my own expression less angry and more open.
"Draco, your mother can look after herself. You need to be Slytherin Draco, take care of yourself." He would never admit it, but Draco could be a bit of a Gryffindor. I could see the understanding in his eyes.
We slipped behind a portrait and into a shortcut. The shortcut let out just a few steps from the Headmaster's office. We stopped just in front of the Gargoyle.
"I wish to see the Headmaster." Dumbledore could see the corridor by the entrance to his office through a handy little charm, and he was able to allow entrance without a password.
After a few moments the Gargoyle moved out of the way. I didn't say anything when I noticed Draco step onto the staircase behind me. Upon entering the Office we could see all of the monitoring gear and other magical devices strewn around the office. Dumbledore himself was seated behind the large desk and his usually cheery persona was not there; instead a serious old man who had the weight of the world on his shoulders was seated before us.
"I'm glad that you have seen fit to abandon your grandfather act." I had been very blunt about my opinion while I had stayed at Grimmauld Place during my recovery.
"You aren't one for pleasantries are you, Alya?" That was another thing that the headmaster had learned during the summer. I went with my mother's name or Alya, I had not been raised a Black.
"I'm here to talk about Snape." I stared straight into the headmaster's eyes, confident that my occlumency was strong enough to stop any attempts to see my thoughts. I didn't feel any intrusion or attack on my mind.
I smirked at the headmaster. "You are desperate to see me allied with you during this war, yet your little spy has ruined any chance of gaining my favor." I paused for just a moment, Dumbledore didn't seem to have a response to that, and so he just waited. "I wonder if you knew that he planned to teach a class on Dementors today. But even if you knew that, he wouldn't have told you the memories that he planned to share with the class."
A few moments passed while Dumbledore processed the information. I knew he had realized what had happened when a look of shock appeared on his face.
"I'm sure you must be aware that victims of Azkaban usually have very little control over their emotions once they are released. So you might understand that when Snape aggravated me past a certain point he knew that I would lose control. I also hope you understand that there will probably be a professor in the infirmary quit shortly, and that I will not be held responsible for the state he is in." I wouldn't be punished for this because Dumbledore needed me, and he didn't know that he had already lost me. He had lost me 15 years ago when any chance at a happy life had been torn away from me.
As I expected, Dumbledore just nodded. "I understand." He then turned to Draco who was being uncharacteristically fidgety while he waited. "And why are you here Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco closed his eyes for a moment before taking a step towards the headmaster's desk and rolling up his left sleeve. The thick black lines of the dark mark were revealed, a stark contrast to the pale skin.
Once again Dumbledore nodded. "What do you want from me?"
Draco looked at his feet. "I have been ordered to find a way for death eaters to get into Hogwarts; I have also been tasked with your death." He looked up but didn't meet Dumbledore's eyes. "I won't kill you."
Dumbledore paused for a moment. "I will need to look through your mind or ask you questions under veritaserum in order to test the truth of your words."
Draco didn't move for a moment before he raised his eyes to meet the Headmaster's. I didn't know what the headmaster was seeing, but I could understand how hard this was for Draco. My mind had been a sanctuary during the years of training with my mother. My body was beaten and bruised, but my thoughts remained my own.
When my magical teacher had told me that some magical creatures and wizards could look into my head and view my memories, I had immediately thrown myself into studying how to shield my mind. Tristan, my tutor, was still able to break through the barriers, but that was expected. After organizing and shielding my mind I worked on the opposite, I could read others mind, and I could communicate with telepathy, an ability that came naturally to vampires and a few other species.
When I was sent to Azkaban, my mind betrayed me. My sanctuary became a place of nightmare and fear. Every moment free of the Dementor's torture I practiced magic, and I tried desperately to shield my mind against the horrible effects of the soul-sucking monsters. When I got out of the prison Dumbledore had tried to uncover my past by sneaking into my mind, I had promptly freaked out and shoved him back into his own head while my magic wreaked havoc on the room and its furnishings.
But Draco was letting Dumbledore into his mind, and he needed to do it. I was staring to know Draco, and I knew that he would not be able to hide his hatred of Voldemort for long, and when he was found out, he would be killed.
After a few moments Draco slumped forwards and only remained standing because of his hold on the desk. He looked at Dumbledore expectantly and straightened himself out.
"Draco, I need you to kill me." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked regretful. "It will make no difference, I am already dying."
I had been waiting for this confession. I could feel magic; magic wasn't something that you could see, but some could sense where it was, and understand the intent of a spell cast on something simply by being near it. There was a nasty curse that was eating away his flesh; it was causing him no small amount of pain.
I laughed at him. "You aren't dying any time soon, hold out your arm."
Dumbledore thought for a moment before pulling back the sleeve of his robe. He held out his arm and I could see the black, dried out skin that had spread from a single finger.
I closed my eyes and let reached out my mind towards the curse, I needed to make sure that my plan would work. As I had anticipated it would take longer to develop a counter curse or to unravel the curse than it would for Dumbledore to die, however my alternate method would work.
"This is going to be painful, so I am going to numb your arm." I waved my hand over the length of his arm before I let him say anything. I also slowed down the blood flow.
Then I flicked my wrist to reveal a knife that was hidden up my sleeve, and before anybody could protest, I cut off the Headmaster's arm.
With a magically sharpened blade it was easy to cut clean through the bone, the only real trouble was when Dumbledore tried to retaliate afterwards. I had placed him in a body bind just before the blade came down, and he was fighting it with everything he had. I quickly healed it before Dumbledore completely overpowered the spell.
As the old coot wiggled free I examined the magic surrounding the stub of the headmaster's arm. There was nothing but the residual healing magic that I had used. When I focused back onto the here and now I found that Draco had taken a few steps back from the headmaster. The normally kind grandfatherly leader of the light was positively fuming. Angry magic was emitting from him in waves, though he seemed to be trying to calm down.
"Which is more important, the safety of the world, or your arm?" I let him think over my statement as I grabbed Draco's arm and led him out of the office.
AN. Is it worth continuing? I may or may not continue the story.
