Chapter 1: Lifeline
Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell leads up to Light.
- John Milton, Paradise Lost
How could anything live when it had been cleaved in two? The crushing weight of grief left you empty, broken, and limp. Your heart beating seemed useless if there was no one it beat for, your soul felt ragged if your walls crumbled. If you were all that you had, and you lost that in one cruel wrench, left only with a gaping hole in your breast where your heart should be, who, then, were you? What were you to become? Death did not frighten you, nor did you hasten to obtain it. Life seemed barely bearable, yet you would turn away from the knife and smack back the proffered hand.
Katia Ortega sat on the couch in her parlor, sick with mourning, a child's blanket clutched to her heaving chest as she sobbed pitifully. Child's clothes, a violet dress and an outfit for a boy were draped in her lap. She had lost twenty pounds that month alone, her face was thinner, her once lustrous black hair straggled, and her dark brown eyes now stayed red and bloodshot on a regular basis. Someone passing her on the street might have thought her in a bad way, drunk or worse, but the truth was that she was just crushed, utterly crushed.
Dracul and Feliks had both sent her bouquets of flowers which were subsequently tossed in the dustbin. Cecelia admonished her after Rose for not taking care of herself. Toris and Ravis had come by for tea, the visit inevitably ending in a hugging session. Her twin, Fabio, and their sister, Evita, had both stayed by her, upset as well but recovering more quickly. Even for a nation she was bad off, but Katia was simply past caring as she sat numbly encased in bitter melancholia. Her mind that recalled with perfection was lost in the past, miles away, reliving all of that time, all of the time with her beautiful children, Erikur and Rin. Erikur and Rin were not her biological children. She had never given birth, but upon seeing them she knew she had to have them.
1964-
Katia loved children and she loved to travel. It was the combination of the two and her strong sense of justice that delivered her greatest source of happiness. She had been in Italy of all places, when she happened to walk down a market street in a lower income district. She had just passed a meat shop when the door in the back alley banged open and a small boy darted out, a liquor bottle that was hurled out after him smashing against the wall over his head, broken glass flying everywhere. There was a rapid swirl of Italian curses and swears that followed him as he turned and ran up the street. Intrigued and concerned, Katia followed him at a slower pace. Seeing him enter a condemned theater with a sign prohibiting entrance, she waited a moment or so before entering herself.
The halls with their tattered velvet curtains seemed to emanate years neglect and abandonment. She proceeded with caution, not wanting to frighten the child. Walking among the rows, she found a ratty blanket with holes riddling the moth eaten fabric. A sad looking doll lay among the folds. Apparently the boy was not alone.
"You can stop right there."
The voice was surprisingly aggressive coming from such a small person. She turned on her heel. The boy she had followed from the butcher's shop stood in front of her, looking scared but determined, hostility lighting his gaze as he gripped a shard of glass in his hand. He had pale blond hair and gray eyes; the clothes he wore were barely decent. "He sent you, didn't he? He sent you after me! I told him I won't do it! I won't rob that old lady! She was nice to us, she-"
"The butcher didn't send me."
He appeared momentarily surprised before he slit his eyes in suspicion.
"Then why are you here?" he snarled.
"I saw you run out of that shop-what was that for? He wants you to rob some old woman?"
"She has a little bit of money and a necklace and he wanted me to steal that."
"That's horrible. What's your name, anyway?"
"None of your business!" he hissed venomously.
"It is if I make it my business," she said rather calmly. "I am not so rude as to ignore formalities," Katia went on softly. "My name is Katia Meri Ortega."
She sat down in one of the moldy chairs primly, as if at a dinner party.
The boy looked unsure of himself now. "I don't have a mother," he said quietly, lowering the shard. "I suppose that now that you've found me, you'll take away?"
It had not escaped her notice that, though he spoke excellent Italian, he had a noticeable accent.
"I have no intention of forcing anyone into anything," she responded, picking lint off of her skirt. The child visibly relaxed. He tossed the glass into a chair in the opposite row before hesitantly sitting by the curious young woman. "My name is Erikur," he supplied haltingly. "I come from Iceland. My mother and father moved here for a job offer my father got. They were killed by muggers the day after we got here. My mom...she tackled one of them, told me run for it. I-I was never so scared in my life. I went back later and saw-I saw..."
Erikur's voice faltered and broke as he fell into shameless tears. He had sounded older when he spoke, a result of how fast he had to grow up. "I didn't want to live with strangers, so I took to the streets. I ate out of garbage cans and stole. I even begged sometimes. Then that man-Carlisle-he found me. He gave me a job in his shop so long as I obeyed him. He needed another hand and finding me-free labor-made him very happy. He hit me and yelled at me, but he fed me, too. I only ran away today because of that lady. I couldn't do what he asked."
"He can't have fed you well," she remarked, noticing that he was thin and pale. "How old are you?"
"Nine."
"And how old is the little girl?"
He froze and paled, eyes going wide. "There is no one else," he said, clearly lying.
"I saw the blanket and the doll, Erikur," she said gently. The boy sighed in defeat, worrying his lip as he wrung his hands spasmodically. "Her name is Rin," he finally admitted. "She's four. Somehow Carlisle had her, too. I think her mom was an orphan who was left over from the war. She had Rin and died, I remember her. Her name was Kita. He made her work scrubbing floors and such. Her hands would bleed from being raw. I asked him for lotion. He only laughed and slapped me."
Katia's blood boiled at the realization. This poor boy and the other child, the girl...what of her, this Rin? At that moment, a small voice called out Erikur's name, preceded by the pitter-patter of little feet. A four-year-old girl with silky black hair came to stand by the boy, turning to look curiously at Katia, sloe-eyes going wide. "Erikur, who is this?" she asked inquisitively.
"Katia," the young –looking witch supplied. "Would you like to go away from here and live in my house," Katia asked. The little girl opened her mouth as if to answer, but before she could do so, Erikur jumped up. "You said you didn't come to take us away! Did you lie?"
"No, I did not lie to you. I didn't come to take you away originally, but after seeing you, how can I not bring you into my home?"
"Your home?" he spluttered as the little girl clapped. As she watched the children, she didn't miss how the glass in the other chair had shattered at his outburst, or how Rin's hair and eyes seemed to change colors. These were magical children, and they needed a magical guardian, someone to care for them who would know of their specific needs and nurture their abilities. "If you so wish," she answered.
He looked worriedly at the little girl beside him. "You might not want us, Miss, we're…different."
"No different from me," she soothed, shaking her head. She pulled out her wand and produced bubbles and sparks, before transfiguring the chair in front of them into a pig and back. He gasped; although Rin looked happy, she didn't seem surprised. "You see, dear, you're just like me. I am a witch, as is Rin, and you are a wizard. Nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you. Your parents sound like Muggles, so you are a Muggle-born wizard. Rin seems to be a Metamorphagus, an inherited trait among magical families, so she must come from some wizarding line. I don't care a whit about blood status, darling. I hate to see children suffer, and I can already tell the three of us could get along nicely. What do you say?"
The children looked wordlessly at her. Slowly and silently, they nodded.
After threatening the Butcher and finishing her business in Italy, Katia took the children to her home, and to that of her "father", but not before showing her new charges to her brother and sister. The children and she got along famously, and, due to their interests in their new world, she began tutoring them in magical subjects and topics. A few years passed before things started happening.
1970-
She could have never been happier when Erikur got his acceptance letter. Now he was two years away from being of age and it nearly took her breath away. Rin was waiting anxiously for her letter so she could attend Hogwarts as well. Katia had grown worried as the days darkened. There were unexplained deaths and disappearances, and news of attacks. Mostly on Muggle-borns and Muggles, but the occasional squib, too. She was at a loss. She could no more make Erikur stay with her than she could send him off and not know what became of her son. She was in a panic.
What she read in that morning's paper last Thursday had chilled her to the bone. 'The Dark Lord Has Risen' it boldly proclaimed. It seemed that beneath the stirrings, a rebellion had formed. Voldemort was his name, and his followers proudly proclaimed themselves as Death Eaters. She was sitting at her kitchen table at dawn, and she jumped when a thumping started at the window. Looking up, she saw that it was a Screech owl with a letter clamped firmly in its beak. It was a letter from her mortal friend, Jaemes. After scanning it quickly, she threw it onto the table. His wife of two years, Gabriela, had given birth to a son, Enrique; they had made she, Katia, Godmother to the boy. Smiling, she penned a swift reply. As the days went by, things only got worse. Gabriela's cousin, Renata, disappeared. The Ministry was in disarray as it attempted to hold together order and stand strong while also keeping the Muggles ignorant.
Katia was sick of it. After two separate attempts on the lives of Gabriela and Jaemes, she began sifting for resistance. Coming to a decision, she apparated to Hogsmeade with her two children safely at Evita's with Gabriela, Jaemes, and their son. She strode purposefully into the owelry, scratched out a note, and sent her owl off. She didn't have to wait in the Three Broomsticks long before the one she had called swept in, eyes scanning the nearly vacant room before landing on her. The man was tall and thin, with a crooked nose, long, silvery hair and beard, fey blue eyes, and half-moon spectacles. Albus Dumbledore was across the room in four strides. He looked down at her over his spectacles as he sat down. "You are Miss Ortega, I presume?"
Katia nodded, unable to smile. "We need to talk, Headmaster." She brought her wand out and with a flick cast a silencing charm over them, wards flying into place out of habit. His eyes twinkled. "This may not be the safest place..."
"I don't care. What I have to say, he can know. It makes no difference. If I may be so bold, Albus, I know about your organization. I have ties everywhere, and when word reached my ear...I want to join you. I want to fight. I want to protect my family, Albus, and you can help me do it."
He regarded her silently, fingers templed before him. His eyes traveled over her from head to foot. Finally, he spoke. "Surely you realize that at present, you would not be threatened."
"No? Well what of when his reach exceeds Europe? I want to stop him in his tracks before he has the opportunity to make the choice of conquering other lands. Even in the Americas, there are whispers, and he has supporters everywhere. The Wizarding world is agitated, unhindered by continental borders or ocean. He will come, he will rise, and if I sit back and do nothing, he will seize control."
"You, of course, are quite right. I have founded a group in retaliation of what he has done. It has been named The Order of the Phoenix. As I understand, you wish to be a part of this movement?"
He paused for conformation before continuing, the steely glint in her eyes speaking for her.
"It is very dangerous work, Miss Ortega. You will face life or death situations on a daily basis. This may be for you family's protection, but it will also place all of your lives in jeopardy. Are you willing to take the risk and pledge your loyalty to the cause?"
Her brown eyes bore into him steadily as he eyed her patiently, serious to the bone. Locking her gaze with his, she said flatly, voice like the edge of a sword, "As you and God as my witness, I solemnly swear that I am willing to lie, cheat, steal, or even kill to put an end to this and protect the ones I love. I will fight with every breath in my body. So, in answer I tell you: certainly, definitely, absolutely." Her voice did not falter, nor did her determined stare. The older man nodded once. "So be it."
1970's-
True to her word and a fierce warrior, Katia killed more than a few Death Eaters and saved countless lives. After the Ministry gave the decree that permitted anti-Voldemort forces to use Unforgivable Curses, she was in her element. The Nation got a glint in her eyes every time she felled the enemy, and a maniacal air not unlike that of "Papa Spain" when in his conquistador mode. Six times she had evaded capture, earning her the attention of the Dark Lord himself.
Erikur was seventeen now, and he wanted to join the Order. After pleading with him, he gave in and agreed to watch over the growing Rin and Enrique, along with Jaemes and Gabriela. She had just come from another skirmish, fighting alongside Alice and Frank Longbottom, Fabio, Remus Lupin, the Potters, and Sirius Black and arrived at headquarters when Lisbeth Slaughter rushed forward tearfully. "Katia...it's-your house-he went himself-breached the wards...oh, God, Katia, there was so much blood..."
"Get a grip, woman!" Sirius growled, shaking her. "What bloody happened?"
Lisbeth dissolved into tears, pointing. Molly and Arthur were in the hall, solemn and with tears in their eyes. Andromeda and her husband were stone-faced. No one would look her in the eye as she passed. Even Kingsley turned his face away. Choking, she stumbled into the room at the end of the corridor. What she was met with made her utter a blood-curdling scream. Everyone else exchanged somber, teary glances as sobbing commenced. Four bodies lay within atop separate tables, covered with thin sheets up to their collarbones. The smallest was the most heart-wrenching. Rin looked as if she slept, her still glossy hair spread out beside her. On her right lay Erikur, long, light lashes caressing his soft cheek in eternal rest. Gabriela and Jaemes were on his other side, battle scars riddling their prone forms.
She fell onto the bodies of her children in turn, and then those of her friends. She sensed rather than saw the others enter, encroaching on her grief, but she said nothing, instead drawing comfort from the heat and life radiating off of their living bodies. Her anguish was nearly tangible: you breathed it, you tasted in, it lingered in your nostrils, cloying and devious. It was Molly who laid a hand on her shoulder. "Katia-"
"No, leave me! Leave us!" she shrieked hysterically.
"Katia-" Sirius now tried. She turned on him so quickly that she blurred in their sight, a sneer in place as she yelled in a mixture of Spanish and English. He pulled her into a rough hug that she eventually gave in to after pounding at him with her fists. His arms held her as she shook in his embrace.
The room fell silent in respect. Moody stumped in with Dumbledore, his eye swiveling crazily. Wretchedly, Katia peered up at Albus. No one spoke for a minute. Abruptly, she pushed Sirius away and shouldered a path from the room. Albus called to her, but she continued on, apparating from there to see the ruins of the razed safe house. She fell down amidst the charred remains, cinders getting all over her clothes and in her hair.
After the heaves stopped, she stood, heart hard and cold in her breast. A red tint came over her eyes as her murderousness surfaced. Blood for blood, the coldness inside of her thought, hatred consuming her as the innocent Katia vanished. She gripped her wand tightly as she ran a trace, felt the earth's sorrow. The essence of the attackers filled her and she knew she would know them on sight. That night, Katia Ortega unknowingly killed twelve Death Eaters and two sympathizers in a rage. She stumbled home at last, covered in their blood, feeling grimly satisfied. Now here she sat, grieving once more, with no remembrance of slipping into Brunilda, the murderess.
A knock sounded at the door. Katia crept forward and flung the door open, wand in one hand and dagger in the other. A cloaked figure stood on the front porch, large hood drawn to hide his or her face. "It's only me, Kat, now let me in please."
Katia stepped aside to let her sister in, closing the door behind her. Suddenly the blade flashed up to tickle her throat. "How do I know you're Evita?"
"How do I know you're Katia?" she retorted, throwing her hood off and allowing her silky dark hair to flow freely. "You have a birthmark on the sole of your foot," Katia croaked, voice ill-used for the past month or so. "And France gave you a garter for your two-hundredth birthday, for which you slapped him," Evita said, smiling crookedly. The two women embraced each other briefly.
Evita held Katia at arm's length. "He's your godson, Katia. You are his only family now. Please reconsider-"
"No, I won't do it," she flatly refused. "I can't, Evie, not right now..."
"Just see him," the second witch urged. "He cries constantly and I know he cries for you! If only you would come, once-"
"No. I'm sorry, but no."
Evita's hand dropped to her side. She looked weary. "Fine. Deprive the child of love because he reminds you of his parents. I can't keep him. I'll have to give him up-"
"No!" Katia hissed, grabbing her wrists. "You mustn't!"
"Oh, and what must I do? What can I if you will not have him? My hands are tied, Katia."
Katia chewed on her already chapped and bloodied lip. "Bring him to me, then."
Evita smiled weakly. She brought the baby back later that day before departing, satisfied that the right thing was done.
Katia took care of herself for the first time in days. She bathed and ate, washing and combing her long tresses disinterestedly. The baby steadily crept into her heart and made her love him, like a thief in the night. She still ran with the Order, leaving the babe with her sister when she did so. Her hips, waist, and shoulders steadily rounded out smoothly into their old curves, her hair regained its old luster, and she no longer had violet circles under her eyes. The ever-present pallid parlor disappeared and became her usual olive-tone.
News of the Potters going into hiding reached her ears. Not a week after the Fidelius Charm was performed, they were betrayed. Lily and James were murdered, but miraculously, their young son, Harry survived. Katia contemplated the Boy Who Lived as she tucked a nine-year-old Enrique into bed. The loss was shocking and sudden, but even she could feel jubilant that Voldemort was gone. She couldn't bring herself to believe that Sirius was guilty, but she didn't know what had transpired without a story or evidence.
That summer, she got a letter that changed her life.
Dear Katia,
It has come to my attention that you are searching for a job. Here at the castle, I have a new class open, International Languages and Magical Cultures. If you wish, the position is yours. I have not forgotten your war efforts. I send my regards and hope to see you. Send your reply by owl no later than the end of the month.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Lip curling into a twisted grin at her own dark humor and the irony of fate, she jotted down her response, not knowing what she was getting into.
