AN: Welcome! Thanks for being here! If you've already noticed the published date above, you're probably wondering what's taking me so damn long to finish or why I haven't just given up already. I, too, ask myself these questions! But I can at least tell you that most of the story is already written and I'm doing my best to get it up here. So thank you, again, for sticking around. I really mean it.

As always, the best way to show interest is to leave a review! There's also a poll on my profile because I think they're fun :)

A/AN: Chapters that are marked and begin with a date do not take place sequentially. In other words, they are not in the regular storyline, they take place in the future. It will all make sense eventually. CSF

Disclaimer: I do not nor will I ever own Harry Potter.

June 6, 1994

I was young. I was pretty. I had a future.

I was thirty-four, and I was going to die.

My heart hammered in my chest. Only a few more minutes, now.

I hadn't asked for this. I hadn't asked for this life, for twisted agony suppressed by fake smiles and weak laughter. I hadn't asked for torture. I didn't want this - who would want this? All I had asked for was him, and I had asked for too much.

I could feel them coming closer. They were ascending the tower.

We were going to have a proper, white-dress wedding. We were going to have a house by the beach with lots of windows, with enough room for us and our seven kids. Alphard and Andromeda, of course, Isla, Phineas, Marius, Cedrella...

Ice crept across the only window, and I could see my breath. There was no point in casting a Patronus as company - already I was hearing the screams, his screams, and behind my eyelids he writhed and wriggled, thrashing about and waiting for the end.

"He's in here," the Minister called.

And all of a sudden, I didn't feel cold anymore. All of a sudden, I didn't see nor hear the grey-eyed boy shrieking on the carpet. All of a sudden, I felt his courage, his confidence, his loyalty and his love, and it coursed through my veins like cigarettes and Firewhiskey on the back of a flying motorbike.

And I laughed. Granted, it was the unmistakably maniacal laughter of someone who's about to meet the end, whether the end be death or Azkaban, but I was laughing harder than I had laughed in twelve long, long years.

I raised the dagger, giggling with delight.