Saturnia

I live for my memories. But life without you... is hardly worth living.

The last hours of Saturnia Slytherin's life. These are her thoughts, feelings and recollections. This is her desperate desire to defeat her brother, her captor. This story tells of her heart-wrenching love for Godric Gryffindor.

Define madness. Is it the state of being a raving lunatic, seeing things that aren't there, or a blissful feeling of freedom?

Well, I'm not mad, for starters. I'm not a raving lunatic. I see only what my eyes are capable of showing me. And whatever blissful feeling of freedom I had once upon a time has long since been shattered.

I'd prefer it if I was crazy. Maybe then I wouldn't have to feel this overwhelming sadness.

I was a prisoner. I had spent the last thirty-eight years in this room. This bare-walled, empty, rotting room. I hadn't seen sunlight. I hadn't eaten more than a slice of stale bread a day and I had not seen a single living thing other than my brother (who is a raving lunatic) in all these years.

Lonely? Perhaps. But I had forgotten what the word meant, so I didn't feel the solitude as bitterly as I once had.

I was an elderly woman now. Fifty-eight years old, in fact. But my mind is younger than my body, only capable of the thought processes of a twenty year old; for that was my age I was when I was taken.

All for love.

A ridiculous, sodding, stupid, all-consuming love. But it was beautiful. Worth it? I had yet to decide. And, trust me; I'd had time to think about it.

He was beautiful, even now, in my twisted, vicious thoughts. He was still beautiful. With his soft golden hair and those bright green eyes. And he had loved me. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen nor heard him in thirty-eight years. But my memory is perfect. I can recall with exact precision every detail, every birthmark, and every single laugh.

I was grateful that I could at least remember him.

I leaned back against the stone wall, wet with sickly condensation. I ignored the iron chains chaffing against the raw skin of my wrists. What was pain now? I was in no frame of mind to feel a thing. Perhaps I was mad. I was in a state of unawareness, but it most certainly wasn't blissful or pleasant.

My eyes stared unseeingly at the wall at the opposite end of the little room, focused on a once-upon-a-time that no longer had any place or truth in my life.

I had been beautiful too. Youthful. Alive. In love. I think everyone is beautiful when they are in love. My thick, chestnut curls reached my waist and would bounce as I danced around that magnificent old castle. Hogwarts. My home. I used to pin flowers in my lush brown locks. My eyes were a sparkling navy blue and seemed to grow brighter when I stared into his green ones.

I sighed. The tiny action of exhaling seemed to rip my chest apart. I was weak.

I wouldn't wake up in this room again, I knew.

I had many years ago lost the use of my legs, from the lack of exercise. My arms have been in the same position as they were when I was first brought here and chained up. I could no longer twitch my fingers; they were lifeless extremities, giving me the barest semblance of a human being. My breathing had deteriorated. Some days I found myself coughing uncontrollably for hours on end.

It was almost over. But I had time for a few more memories.

"Godric!" My dark-haired brother called across the stone hall as he led me through the archway. A man on the other side of the room glanced up and looked towards us. His bright green eyes found my own, and lit up with curiosity. "Come and greet my younger sister."

The man called Godric stood. The two women sitting beside him, one with bright orange hair, the other with straight ebony locks, stood with him. They made their way across the hallway. It was empty, the students that my brother taught here had long since gone to their dormitories. My exhaustingly long tour of the magical castle had called for refreshments, and he had suggested a late snack in the Great Hall.

As the three finely clothed people came over to us, my brother pointed out various things throughout the enormous room. I didn't pay attention; my gaze was entirely centred on the captivating blonde haired man quickly walking over to us.

Though I was desperate to hear his voice, the yellow and black robed woman spoke first. "Your sister, did you say, Salazar?" She asked, her orange bun bobbing precariously on her head, like a cream mousse-dessert in an earthquake.

Salazar nodded proudly. "Yes, this is Saturnia Slytherin. I asked her to take up the post of transfiguration, seeing as old Nellunis is off to Prague next month. Saturnia," he said, turning to me, "This is Helga Hufflepuff" – he gestured to the woman who had just spoken and was now smiling beatifically – "Rowena Ravenclaw" – and motioned to the dark haired woman who merely nodded, but I detected the barest twitch of her lips – "And Godric Gryffindor."

Godric smiled widely at me, and asked how my journey was. His voice was as smooth as I had imagined. Merlin, I had been here an hour and I was already infatuated.

"Most comfortable, thank you," I replied graciously, offering him my hand as my mother had taught me. He kissed it and I swear I nearly died...

"For that, I am glad."

And in that moment, Godric Gryffindor took me away from reality and convention as I knew it. I would probably follow this man to the ends of the earth. My heart soared, and was unlikely to ever return to me until the day I died.

I hadn't realised until now that that was exactly what had happened. But I was hoping that even then, my bruised and battered heart would not return. Even in death, I hoped that it would belong to him.

My eyes flickered from my recollection as the door to my prison cell creaked open. Blinding light filled the entry way and I had to close my eyes and turn my head. I was so used to darkness.

"Good evening, Saturnia," my brother greeted me. "Are you hungry?"

I said nothing. I hadn't said a word in over twenty years. I think I had forgotten how.

"Of course you are," Salazar continued, stepping towards me, his expensive robe swishing about his feet. I hadn't been fed in days. I was like some forgotten pet to him. He held a mouldy crust of bread in front of me, with a sliver of cheese. He pressed it against my lips, and I took the morsel into my mouth, chewing slowly. How docile I had become. I remembered when I used to fight him when he came to my room, I used to scream and lash out with my feet. I used to curse him and bite his fingers when they shoved food into my mouth. But I had lost my energy. I was too old now, too worn down.

My brother, the great Salazar Slytherin, had broken me.

My throat burned as the dry bread scratched against it. I coughed a few times before swallowing. Salazar watched me idly as I did so. His navy eyes were the exact shade mine had been, before mine had darkened to that colour you recognise in people who had lived a hard life.

I hadn't lived a hard life. I hadn't lived a life at all. Now, I merely thought of it as an existence. For there was no way out, Salazar employed every spell to keep me alive, fed me just enough that I wouldn't starve. But my soul and heart had died a long time ago. All I had left to me now were my memories. My most treasured possessions. So guarded that not even Salazar, the King of Serpents, could take them from me.

My thoughts drifted back to Godric, for whom else could I think about? I thought about how when the sunlight hit his caramel hair, it shined almost silver. I thought about those courageous green eyes that flickered with intelligence and interest. I thought about the four months I had spent with him. Those secret rendezvous in the Dark Forest, the way he would twirl my russet curls around his long fingers. I thought about his hands, soft upon my face. His lips on mine as he whispered how much he loved me. I thought about that first night we finally shared our love; the look of adoration in his eyes as he ran his hands over my bare shoulder. I thought about how happy I was.

I knew I would never see him alive again. I had come to terms with that painful fact.

I was vaguely aware of Salazar leaving the room.

How I hated my brother. I had never felt such a vicious hatred of another human being like I felt for Salazar. What right had he to take me away from the man I loved most, just for the sake of his foolish feud? It didn't matter to me what he thought of muggleborns and half bloods. He chose to leave Hogwarts and I stayed. I stayed with Godric. And Salazar just could not live with that. He saw my choice as a personal betrayal.

And then, to add insult to injury, I fell in love with his enemy. Salazar couldn't bear it and took me away. I had been in this miserable room ever since.

How the years dragged on. I could almost feel my time, my life, ticking away, day by day. Death was coming. I could feel it. It was bitterly joyful. At least there I could await the reunion of Godric and me in a place of our own choosing. Hopefully in a happier place than this one. We could still be what we were. We could still have us.

I was filled with such a raw desire to die that I managed to build up enough energy to pull my heavy head forward and then throw it back against the stone wall. I felt a sickening crack. It was delightful. I tried five more times before running out of strength.

I felt a cool trickle of blood run down the back of my neck. Internally, as the muscles of my face had been abandoned from misuse, I smiled in triumph.

I just wanted to leave this foul existence. I just wanted peace. I just wanted freedom. I just wanted love. Was it too much to ask?

The forest was darker today. The light barely made it through the leaves of the trees. I walked in shadow, my midnight blue robe dusting gently against the roots and foliage that scattered the floor of the mysterious wood on the edge of the school. No birds chirped. No trees rustled. All was silent.

I followed the seldom-used path towards the east, to the place Godric and I would meet in secret each night. Normally, I was nearly running down the overgrown path by this point, but today I felt a strange fear in the back of my mind. A subtle hint of danger. It was a warning.

I reached the clearing. It was a little lighter here, the bushes were greener, the canopy a little less dense.

"Godric?" I called softly, trying to locate him. He was usually here before me.

"Over here," he called. It didn't sound like him. The voice was harder, steelier than what I was used to. But I assumed that it wouldn't be anybody else, so I stepped slowly over, to where the trees reached the small stream. How stupid I was.

My breath whooshed out in a gasp of horror as I took in the scene before me. Godric was lying motionless in the grass by the stream, he was sopping wet and his skin was icy white. Dead. Above him stood Salazar, bruised and bleeding, a threatening smile on his pointed features.

"What have you done?" I screamed at my brother, running forward and pulling my wand from my robes. "I'll kill you! I swear I'll kill you!"

He disarmed me before I had the chance to act on my promise.

Shaking his head, he responded, "You never were a dueller, were you, Saturnia?"

Still screaming wordlessly, I ran forward. I didn't need a wand to kill him. I would use my bare hands if necessary.

He flicked my wand at me, invisible wires shot forward and bound me to the spot I was standing. Sobbing, I looked over at the prone body of Godric. He lay stiller than the night air in this haunted place. "No, no, no..." I mumbled.

Salazar disapparated, taking me along with him. I wasn't sure how he did it, for he didn't touch me, and side-along requires physical contact.

Godric was dead. I was captured.

Life as I knew it had ended.

I wanted to wipe at the tears at my eyes, but hands were bound. I hadn't cried in many years now, probably because I refused to think of this memory. The feel of warm water dripping down my sallow, gaunt cheekbones was strange.

My skin was dry and cracked. It was mottled and disgusting. My greying brown hair hung lank and unkempt. I reeked. I hadn't properly bathed in thirty-eight years. Sometimes, Salazar would come in and douse me in a jet of icy water from his wand. It alleviated the smell a bit, but did little keeping me clean. My bones were beginning to splinter and crack, just the other day I felt my shin bone split. I was still wearing the robe I had been captured in. I was revolting, even to myself.

I knew I was dying, I could feel it deep within me. I was weak, my body ruined beyond repair. And now I was slowly bleeding to death. The cut I had made on the back of my head was deeper than I had first thought. I think I might have cracked my skull as well.

I felt oddly victorious. If I died, then I would have won; I would have defeated my brother. Even in death.

Godric was dead. I was soon to follow. We would be together again soon, I hoped. I coughed, I could feel the chill creeping up my useless limbs. That welcome release would be upon me soon. I sighed, my breath shallow and shuddering.

Time for one more memory, I think...

"Marry me," he whispered, his voice deep and husky with anticipation. "Marry me, Saturnia."

I smiled, my rosy lips parting in shock and happiness. The trees around us seemed to sing their own delight. The birds twittered their agreement. Even the grouchy bowtruckles that wound their way up the oak tree beside us were joyful. I don't know why everyone called the enchanted wood outside of the castle the Dark Forest. In daylight it was beautiful.

"I love you, just like I will forever. Marry me."

Speechless. I couldn't talk. Heart thudding in chest. Merlin, even my thoughts were cluttering.

"Saturnia Slytherin, will you marry me?"

Finally, my thoughts seemed to force themselves into cohesion so that I was capable of responding. "Godric Gryffindor," I breathed. "I will marry you."

He stepped forward, not bothering to dust the bracken from his knee, and pulled me into his passionate embrace, his lips against mine told the story of our future.

A future that never happened. Not even a week later, my brother, Salazar Slytherin kidnapped me. Horrified, he was, that I could bear to be with his arch-enemy. But such was the way of love; it chose you, not the other way around. We didn't choose to fall in love. It was a matter of gravity. But, to this day, I was glad that we did.

My eyes drifted closed, my breathing stopped entirely. The blood that was spilling from the back of my skull stopped pumping. My body slumped forward. The only thing my brother found when he came to feed me three days later was my cold, stiff corpse and a glorious smile on my wasted features.

I wasn't alone anymore.

AN: Alright, so I was feeling depressed and angry at the world (apparantly it's a teenage thing...) and took it out on my computer, this being the result. So I hope you enjoyed - even though it was morbidly sad - and let me know what you thought of it in a review. 3

I personally think that I suck at one-shots, but it just popped into my furious thoughts and got all tangled up in there... Any constructive criticism on this piece is welcome. I love hearing from you!

Oh, and I'm posting an image of Saturnia as I picture her on my profile soon, so check it out! I also have a few pictures up of some of my other characters from other stories (Violent, Callista, Teagan and Zipporah).

xxx