These characters and this universe are not mine and will never be mine, they belong to (Fanfare, Trumpets) J.K. Rowling (Reverential Awe).
Broken by plahbie
Happiness. That's what I felt, always. I was regaled with stories of the world of Hogwarts, told that I, too, would one day follow the steps of my brother, Albus. I knew that, soon, I would show signs of my magic. So I waited.
One night, I was reading a book, or rather looking at the pictures of the book, and felt a strange, tingly feeling in my gut. It started with my hand. Then it slowly went up to the rest of my body. And I was happy. Rainbows were what covered me from head to toe, filling the room with a shimmering, ghostly light.
It might have been a dream, because for all the world I would never have hoped to see something like this. Slowly I creeped outside, my rainbows sparkling around me. I danced there, under the stars, rainbows spinning in a second, unearthly dance next to me.
A loud rustle from the bushes stopped me. I spun around, looking at the small, weedy section of plants in front of our house. A face stared back in shock. The face of a muggle.
I ran inside, blindly following, or trying to follow, the rule my parents had set long ago. The memory nagged at me until I gave in and allowed it to show me what it would.
"You must never, never show your magic to a muggle. Muggles are also defenseless, so you must not use your magic on a muggle either." Her mother had intoned,in a voice as calm and dangerous as a viper before it strikes.
"But why?" She had asked, in curiosity known to all of those who are but age six.
"Just... Just because that is the rule." Kendra Dumbledore had floundered for a second, for once in her life not answering a question satisfactorily. Ariana went home with her curiosity piqued.
For this reason alone Ariana didn't tell anyone about the face in the bushes, watching her do magic. She was only eight. A tender age.
The next night she crept out quietly, to see if her rainbows would work again. A rustle. She spun around, but not quite quickly enough. A large hand covered her face, and she could no longer scream.
She was not dragged for a very long time. When she could see again, they were in a basement. Two boys sat near her, on chairs, and the 'interrogation' began.
"How did you do that, last night?" the one she had seen last night spoke in a clear, calm voice.
"Answer us!" said the large, meaty boy. Loudly.
Pain hit her stomach, and fists were slamming into her, yet still she did not answer. More pain this time, and she could feel her willpower fading. The pain just grew, her blood falling on the floor.
The questions had been asked, over and over again, but she could not answer. Suddenly, she glowed blue. The muggles stopped and stared, and her father burst through the flimsy door, hexes, curses, and jinxes flying everywhere. Ariana finally fell into oblivion.
When she woke up, the pain was gone. Where was she? A woman came in, accompanied by two boys. The younger one she recognized, and an unprecedented glee came from knowing this. The boy was Aberforth. Her one and only island in her storm.
"Ariana?" came a quiet voice from the other boy. Oh, yes! This must be Albus. Her other brother. Was Ariana her name? It might be. Brief memories flickered in the back of her mind of people calling that name in gentle voices.
Never mind that, though. The rainbows had fled.