A|N: Hi! The R rating is for later chapters, and I would really appreciate it if you could drop me a review, or some constructive criticism. I don't mind. Enjoy!
P.S: Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe and characters are not mine. The only thing(s) I own is a handful of characters and the plot.
Arianna's stomach twisted tightly, crushing any and all food consumed earlier on in the day and threatening to throw it all back out. She frantically hid behind the brick wall she had been passing moments before, her head tilted just so. This enabled her to keep her eye out for the twin platinum blonde heads that she had spied moments before.
A large cluster of witches and wizards, old and young, passed in front of her, halting her mostly pathetic attempts at spying. With her patience rapidly decreasing, Arianna stretched onto her toes, her cold fingers gripping the rough brick as she continued her frenzied search with round, wide eyes.
Her stomach twisted tighter with a mix of fear and excitement at being seen. When she couldn't find who she had been looking for, she sank back onto her heels. The swarm of witches and wizards in front of her continued their day, merrily walking down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley with their rosy cheeked children; presumably future Hogwarts students.
Arianna's eyes pinned and followed one such couple consisting of parent and child, analysing the brown haired girl who nearly tripped over herself to enter another store, most likely to purchase another school supply on the list issued to her. All around the girl, similar children beamed with excitement, their cheeks pink, their voices high with untamed excitement.
Arianna's eyes moved back to the brown haired girl's mother, she had stayed outside the store with other parents after handing over a handful of galleons and releasing their children to explore and purchase. She noticed how all of them: mother, and father, had shining eyes. They brimmed and lit up with pride, transforming their faces into something beautiful.
She wondered if her parents had ever looked at her like that. If their eyes had filled, their faces changing with the joy they felt for their child. She doubted it. Arianna remembered buying her school supplies with fear wrapped in her stomach, afraid she would act too child-like and upset her mother who always wore nothing but a stern frown for as long as Arianna could remember.
In fact, Arianna remembered feeling so unhappy that day, so trapped by her mother's conforming ways, that she had been desperately wishing that the weeks would hurry along so that she could leave for Hogwarts and escape for the whole year. Even over the holidays, Arianna didn't want to go home, but she knew her parents wouldn't stand for it.
Only children without parents didn't go home for the holidays. With a breathy sigh, one full of the pain of the past, Arianna turned to leave, releasing the brick wall she had been hiding behind. A deep knotting sensation twisted in her gut as her emerald eyes connected with steel-grey. Her skin flushed, hot and cold all at once and goose bumps broke, dancing across her skin.
Arianna thought that she wouldn't have the willpower, or strength, to rip her gaze from his once she had found it. But somehow, from sheer curiosity, she managed to swing her gaze from his magnetic one and instead to the boy at Draco Malfoy's side. He was as excited and happy as all the other children Arianna had seen this morning.
His small face was eager, pinched with excitement that looked barely contained. His hand was wrapped in Draco's larger one, which surprised Arianna because Draco wouldn't have been seen dead holding his parent's hand at that age. The younger boy pulled on his father's hand, digging his feet into the floor and trying to get his father's attention.
It seemed that he wanted to enter the store they had just gone past, and wanted to buy school supplies that he would need to aid him in learning at a school that she had once helped to destroy. That his own father had helped to destroy. His grandparents too. Arianna pressed her lips together, watching the boy, who watched his father, who kept his eyes on Arianna.
She was almost mesmerised by the boy: Scorpius, she believed he had been named. He was simply the spitting image of Draco. Arianna traced her eyes over his platinum blonde hair, steel-grey eyes and pale skin. All his father's and grandparent's attributes carried down from the Malfoy bloodline to their descendant's. Arianna found not one similarity to his mother: Astoria Greengrass.
How unnerving, she thought to herself, her eyes sliding over him as he got more frustrated with his father. He looked exactly like Draco the day that Arianna had met him, so many years ago in the dining room of Hogwarts. Her younger eyes had glued to him with the same fascination she now looked at his son with.
A small, inconsequential piece of information floated over Arianna's mind, informing her that Draco and Astoria had divorced a year ago. Or at least, she thought it had been them. She couldn't be sure due to her not following the news of the wizarding world. She had wanted to keep a small eye on Draco, and his life, but couldn't find the will to socialise with the world to do so.
Arianna jolted as she realised how intensely Draco was staring at her as if deliberating whether to walk over to her, to introduce his son and make small talk. He even took a step in her direction, much to the chagrin of his son, who huffed and frowned. Arianna panicked and reeled back, dreading him coming any closer and wishing he would at the same time.
Draco's cheeks flushed but Arianna could tell it wasn't an embarrassment. Maybe anger, or resentment. She swallowed tightly and shook her head, apologising silently. Draco nodded so tight and quick that Arianna almost missed it. Her lips turned up into a wobbly smile before she turned and walked as fast as she could away from him, and his son.
She walked blindly for a few minutes before finding herself behind another brick wall. Arianna fell into it, letting her body mould into the hard structure and pressing her bones into the jagged edges. She realised her cheeks were hot, her chest heaving and her breathing erratic. Parents gave her bewildered looks, gripped their children's arms and steered them away.
Arianna realised she must look like one of the craziest witches in the community. It didn't help that a large majority of witches and wizards that looked at her knew about her, and her parents; their past. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind and swept her free hand down her robes, trying to collect herself.
She tried to gather her thoughts as she prepared to apparate away. She wasn't in the mood today to be splinching herself. She focused her mind on home, picturing her favourite place and only sanctuary in the world. She took one last deep breath before she felt the familiar pulling behind her navel, sending her through the air.
Despite calming herself moments earlier, she couldn't help the image that popped into her head just as she apparated away: Scorpius Malfoy with her green eyes. As soon as Arianna arrived back to her small and lonely apartment, she noticed the book, face down on her breakfast bar. It was nearly complete, its thick pages weighing heavy on the left side.
The intense, burning desire to complete it overwhelmed her as soon as she spotted it. The push to complete it left her rigid and tense, standing in silence next to her front door. Keys and a grocery bag in hand, Arianna was unsure of her next move. Why was she so eager to finish it? She wondered.
With her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, Arianna placed her keys into the bowl next to the front door and moved across the living room into her small kitchen. All the while her eyes lingered on the book. The book that had destroyed her life; forced her to quit her job; become a recluse. No friends; no social life.
She tried to shake away her bitter thoughts as she put her groceries away and filled the kettle. Her gaze continued to linger and burn imaginary holes into the pages as she busied herself with making a cup of tea and cleaning up the mess after her. Not that it made much difference, she thought with a grimace.
Her eyes roamed around her small apartment and she cringed internally at the state of it. When she had first moved out of the wizarding community to live in a muggle rented apartment, she had hated every moment of it. She had been young, tarred by the things she had done, and alone.
Renting an apartment and decorating it had been different to what she would have done, had she continued to live in her community. She would have inherited her parent's estate, or his… She shook her head, banishing the thoughts. Regardless, she had taken a while to adapt to her new surroundings and didn't take to cleaning easily.
Her parents had raised her with house elves who had done all cleaning, washing, cooking and general maintenance. To learn how to do all those things by herself had been hard, but over time she had taken great pride in her clean and beautiful home, decorated in light and airy colours. Then it had gone downhill again after she found the books.
Sometimes she still washed up, sometimes she even fluffed her sofa cushions. But she no longer polished, or swept, or vacuumed or wiped down her surfaces. Her surroundings were as cluttered and messy as she felt inside, becoming the mirror to her soul in many ways. Arianna sighed, realising just how depressed she really was.
Her life had become meaningless, filled with long hours and empty days. She spoke to no one, did nothing and it was awful. Sometimes she could swear that just waking up felt fake as if the world around her wasn't real. Her surroundings looked hazy on these days, fuzzing at the edges as if they were a simple projection of her imagination.
Arianna tried to pull herself out of her dark thoughts. She had been through a lot. She would never give up on her life, no matter how empty she felt. She owed it to herself to live a long, if not happy, life. With her cup of tea in hand, she snatched the book up, despising the pages but needing to finish them and curled up on her dishevelled sofa.
She placed her steaming cup on her coffee table where other empty, cold cups sat, both dirty and tea stained. With a heavy sigh, she took a look at the front cover: Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. With a resounding slam, Arianna had practically thrown the book onto the coffee table, leaving it upside down and closed hazardously.
She scowled deeper at the crinkled pages. Boiling tea dribbled out of her favourite tea cup, the only one she ever washed up, from the violent landing. Arianna watched with detached interest as the line of tea, cool now on the glass, ran across the surface and bled into her forgotten morning newspaper. A moving picture flickered on the front page.
Her chin trembled as she looked at the ruined tower blocks, the rubble of broken walls spread across the wet and muddy ground. Fire rose dangerously from the debris and dead, mangled bodies were strewn across broken glass. Arianna didn't want to look anymore. But she couldn't stop her eyes from seeking out the headline.
The destruction of Hogwarts School for Witch Craft and Wizardry: thirteen years today.
Wet dripped down her cheeks, curling over her chin and dripping onto her clasped hands. Arianna roughly scrubbed her hands over her face. It wasn't real! She screamed to herself. It was never real. None of it. Her life and so many others were a big, fat lie and it made her so, so angry.
Mostly because she didn't have anyone to talk to, anyone to confide in without fearing being admitted to St Mungos. Arianna felt trapped, lonely and didn't know what to do with the knowledge that had ruined her life. Her head fell heavy against the back of her sofa, a dull ache forming almost instantly.
Her mind wandered to the day her life had changed. She hadn't meant to find the books. She had been in London, in the muggle world, because she was fed up of the sharp looks and whispers she received in Diagon Alley, even all these years later. It was so humiliating to be thirty-one years old and continue to be looked down upon as if she was still the young girl who had made so many mistakes.
Being a closet bookworm when she was younger, in her adult life, she did nothing but hoard books. She had found a bookstore named 'Water Stone's' and immediately scanned the rows of books, until one particular, and the familiar book caught her eye.
Harry Potter.
Arianna's heart had been thumping beyond healthy levels when she had approached the counter and asked, with a trembling voice, what the book 'Harry Potter' was about. The woman had made her feel more nervous when she stared at Arianna as if she had just sprouted two more heads.
"You don't know who Harry Potter is?!" She had screeched with indignation.
Arianna flushed, feeling as if she was missing something pivotal and feeling stupid because of it. "I sort of do-"
The girl had cut her off, completely oblivious to Arianna, who had desperately strived for patience; reminded herself that she couldn't use magic in the presence of a muggle, much less on one. Arianna had tuned out the muggle girl after so long but raised her eyebrows in surprise when she exclaimed, "he's one of the most famous people in the history of books, ever!"
"Well yes, he's famous, but not beca- "
The muggle girl cut her off. "Have you never heard of J.K Rowling?"
"J.K Rowling?" Arianna repeated the unfamiliar name, once again feeling as if she was missing something majorly important.
"Oh my god," the muggle had whispered under her breath, clearly horrified.
On and on she had continued, mercilessly going into excruciating detail about who J.K Rowling was, what Harry Potter was, how many books there were and what happened in each and every one of them. Apparently, there was also films. When Arianna had finally gotten away from the muggle, she had hunted down all the books, and the films.
Some titles, mainly all of them, confused her. Some made sense to her, from bits and pieces she had heard in Hogwarts when she was younger. It was usually centred around Harry Potter and his two best friends, who had created the golden trio.
When she had gotten home she had discovered that the films featured the real faces of familiar faces: Ron Weasley, Harry himself, Hermione Granger, Dumbledore and even him.
Voldemort.
The first thing she thought was that Harry Potter had sold his life story to a Muggle Author who had twisted it to be presented in a Fantasy fashion so that Arianna's world and her secrets were kept safe. How else could every single aspect of their lives so accurately be displayed for the muggle world to see?
So on that theory, she had contacted Harry Potter and had waited a good few months, at which point she was already spiralling into insanity, newly unemployed because of her new found obsessions, and living off her parent's forgotten fortune, which she had hated before he replied to her owl.
Of course, Harry Potter was much too busy being a war hero for him to reply without delay. When she had delicately asked him if he had spoken to any muggles, particularly authors, of the things that had happened in his young adult life, he had become positively unhinged.
She always did think he was a smudge insane, not that she was in a position to criticise at that point, but the way that he had chucked her out of his Auror office that day finalised her theories. His shouted statements followed her all the way out the door.
"You think after everything I went through; I'd want to sell my story to a muggle?! With the way the wizarding world treats me already?!"
It was clear to Arianna that no, he hadn't sold his story to the muggle J.K Rowling. So after researching what muggles called 'the internet' she searched every piece of information she hadn't already gathered from the books and films, happening across many disturbing images of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter in a positively vile embrace.
Even worse, she happened to find a horrid abomination named "FanFiction" that had Draco and Hermione Granger put into some rather a stomach turning erotic stories. As if Hermione Granger could do anything for Draco Malfoy. Did these so called "fans" know him at all?
Arianna finally came to the only conclusion that she could, and that was: magic had occurred. There was no other way apart from to accept the fact that this woman, J.K Rowling, had created her books in the muggle word and somehow won the hearts of so many, who had loved Harry Potter so much, and had hoped and prayed that it was all real, so hard, that they had unknowingly manifested Arianna's world.
The world in which she believed to be firm, and real, and there. Except it wasn't. How could it be? The proof was on her dirty coffee table, in black and white. Her life was a lie. Arianna's eyes travelled from the ceiling as her left arm lifted, her trembling fingers from her other hand moving to pull down her long sleeve.
A dreadful unease rolled around her stomach at the sight of the fading dark mark engrained into her arm, burned deeply into her flesh. Was this not real? Was the searing heat in her arm, when Voldemort pressed his wand into it, not real? Was the look of pure delight on her parent's faces not real? The twist in her gut? The fear in her heart?
Her body slowly slid down onto her sofa cushions, her legs coming up to her chest where she proceeded to curl into herself. She was so alone, and she didn't know how to think or feel. She had no family left, they were sent straight to Azkaban after the war, no job because her life had been torn apart by a hideous truth, and she had never had real friends.
Apart from one pale, blonde haired boy... She rapidly shook her head. No. Twisting onto her back, Arianna sighed at the ceiling. The worst and probably the shallowest aspect of it all was that she had never been mentioned in the books, or seen in the films. Her family's name was never mentioned amongst Voldemort's followers, or any circle of purebloods.
It was like they had never existed. Like her parents never existed, like the Locket blood line never existed, as if they didn't even matter as if she was as worthless as a muggle: unrecognised and forgettable. There was no trace of her anywhere and despite the relationship she had shared between her parents near to the end, the hatred that had stained their love, it pained her to learn how inconsequential their existence was because that was all they had ever lived for.
All they had wanted out of life was to know they had galleons, titles, respect and an heir to take on their precious name, spread their pure and righteous blood. If they could see the things she had learnt, if they could see that their name was common and worthless, the shock of it all would send them keeling over into their graves.
And so Arianna was left to think that if their name was nothing, their power nothing, their blood status nothing, then why was she here? What was she doing here, on this earth? Why had she suffered the loss of her parents? The fear under Voldemort's leadership? The heartbreak of Draco Malfoy? She groaned, hand flying to cover her face.
She didn't know where she belonged.