Harry Potter Fan Fiction
Title: Fearless- A Different View
Characters: Harry Potter, Original Character Emmeline, Hermione, Ron, the Weasleys, Sirius Black, and others eventually.
Description: Takes place in lieu of the 5th book, with a twist and different story. Different plot intermingled with 5th book plot. Dark still, just different story line. Kind of a Mary Sue story but much better….
Rating: For mature readers only…it's a bit full of angst, dark, sex may come into play. Very dark and dramatic.
Disclaimer: I only own my original characters, and my ideas are mine. Everyone and everything else belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.
Author's Note: Hey everyone. This is my first, full length fan fiction inspired by one of the best told stories of this generation. Please, PLEASE, give me some feedback, CONSTRUCTIVE, not DESTRUCTIVE, criticism, only. I'd like to hear what you guys think. Any ideas or suggestions as to how I can make this story better, would be greatly appreciated. (For my fellow writers who enjoy critiquing) So, I hope you like it….enjoy!!!!
CHAPTER ONE: THIS IS ME
Looking into the mirror at my delicate frame, I trailed a hand across my bare chest. Bruised and red and sore from the beating I had just endured, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that the pain would be only temporary. …sigh … I ran my fingers through my long, straight, auburn hair… It's getting thinner… I think to myself, and realize that I haven't been in the best of health the past few months. Just looking at my fading tan, and my stomach starting to reveal protruding ribs, my once defined abs now lost and revealed a flat but much too skinny tummy and waist. I notice how much weaker I have become, how much more frail and fragile my body had transformed into. I was still the beautiful, young witch who's modeling career was still ever progressing, whose face was on almost every wizarding publication in the world. Only 16, almost 17, and I had lived and experienced more than any fully fledged adult. I allow my body to sink into the fluffy lounge chair in my room, the throbbing pain of a horrendous headache soon approaching… How much more of this abuse would I have to take…, I wonder, and close my eyes and start to remember the events of the night.
I had just finished a photoshoot for Wild Witches (a popular men's magazine that every teenage wizard or adult male had on nonstop subscription), and I had been foolish enough to think it had been a success. I had prepared all week for it: extra work outs and spa treatments to make sure I was in perfect condition for the shoot. I was to be modeling in a skimpy black bikini, advertising the newest broom called the Silver Fly. I believed I had done well, the photographers and publishers loved me, and were in complete awe of how the pictures turned out. I was even given a special edition Silver Fly. I did great, but apparently, it wasn't enough for Damien.
It never was enough for Damien. Tall, he stood with an air of arrogance, and exceeding confidence. His dark but dreamy good looks made all the ladies swoon, his neatly slick black hair and soulful black eyes, you'd think he was a model, or an Egyptian God. But he was nothing of the sort. Just my unappreciative, never satisfied, manager. He would constantly criticize me, and tell me how I wasn't good enough for the industry. I didn't want to be in the industry period. I wanted to go to a real school, a real wizard academy. To learn and be with teenagers my age. To have a real life.
"But this is your life now Emmeline, modeling. And you can do your studies with the tutor, like you have been doing for the past 5 years," Damien would tell me. I was nothing to him but his doll, to dress up and prance around in front of all his high executive friends, his ticket in to the big time. I tried firing him, but I never really hired him to begin with.
You see, I never got to know my mum or dad. My mum was a gypsy, and fell in love with my father years ago. They didn't marry, but they conceived, a baby girl, me, who they named Emmeline Rosalin-Rose Reanne Black. They lived happy, but it was very short lived. A strong West wind blew through the outskirts of England, and with it took my mother, and left me in the care of my father, Sirius. Soon he'd be thrown into Azkaban, the wizard prison, for the mass killing of many. I was taken from my home and put into the only PureBlood Orphanage, where many kids were put into dark wizarding homes. That's where Damien came in. He saw me, and gravitated to me like a moth to a flame. He saw me as a prized possession, and saw what would be a great career move for himself. Ever since then, I've been forced to do all sorts of things. Be his maid, his plaything, his doll. He controlled me, and everything I did. And if I disobeyed him, or angered him, or just didn't do something to his standards, I became his punching bag. He'd hit me, beat me, pull my hair and throw me to the ground. Especially when he had too many Magic Rum Shots, sometimes he'd beat me to the point of unconciousness. But not for long….
I got showered and dressed for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day. I slipped into the black, satin mini-dress Damien had hung on the bathroom door for me to wear. I stared at myself in the mirror, bruises not visible but still there. I had swept my hair up into a long but sleek pony on the back of my head. I wore light makeup, with dark eyeliner. I looked good, as usual, and I pondered what Damien had up his sleeve this time. The skimpy black dress he had me wear, showing lots of leg and cleavage, the stiletto heels, I was obviously being dressed this way for a reason. He was going to show me off tonight.
"Emmeline!! Are you dressed yet?! You're going to make us late if you don't get down here, plenty of people are waiting!" I heard Damien's low key voice pound through the air. I grab my wand and my purse, put some vanilla lip gloss on, and head out to the lobby, where I find Damien, dressed in black dress robes, obviously new from a top London designer.
"There you are darling," he strolls over to me , kisses my cheek, and looks me up and down. "You look fabulous."
"Save your sweet talk for another woman, Damien, " I retort and walk out the front doors. There was no use in being civil with him. I knew by the end of the night, his act would be up, and I'd be down on the floor, writhing in pain. Damien's false friendliness was quickly erased with the more natural glare and smirk.
"Just get your ass in the car Emmy, we're going by filthy Muggle transportation this evening to the gala….so act appropriately. Filthy Mudbloods…I can't believe I allowed myself to be dragged into this Mudblood fiasco…. The whole lot of 'em, should be vanquished. Even the half breeds, or half wizards, only the purest of Wizard families should reside here on earth. One day…"
I was a pureblood, but it wasn't something I was proud of. Not when I could be so easily associated with the pricks that purebloods can be. Once we arrived at the gala, I quickly separated myself from Damien, and made my way to a corner of the ballroom, where the crowd wasn't so thick. Many wizards came up and offered conversation. I would reply and be as sincere as possible, but I wasn't interested. Just then, I felt an arm creep around my waist, and hot breath on my neck. Another hand started to make its way up my leg, and into my dress. I caught my breath an turned around to find an already intoxicated Damien, eyes full of dark and impending lust and desire. With added force, he pulled me to the crowded dance floor.
"Dance with me Emmeline. I want the whole room to see that I am the most incredible guy at the gala, and I can only achieve such status with you on my arm. Now dance…."
I pushed him away and tried to walk in the other direction, but his grip tightened on my arm as he yanked me back and up against his chest.
"No!" he grunted, his eyes turning dark, his tone no longer playful, but deadly. He leaned closer into my neck, and whispered in my ear with a false smile plastered on his face.
"Don't make me angry Emmeline Rose, or you'll be in for it tonight. You think your body hurts now, just imagine the pain I'll put you in when we get back to the hotel. Try me…I've been going easy on you. Don't make me hurt you."
I tried not to let the shudder go noticed, but the twinkle in his eye told me he knew he was intimidating me. But I wouldn't let him win. I yanked my arm away from him, and stormed off in the other direction in a hustle. Before I could reach the door, a large crack filled my ears as I felt myself fall into darkness. We Disapparated, and I found myself in Damien's hotel room. I turned to find Damien, his face showing rage and lust both at the same time.
"You made a fool of me tonight, and now you're gonna make it up to me."
I quickly make for the door, but my speed wasn't fast enough. Damien grabbed me by my hair and drug me back to his bed, and threw me on it. He pounced on me, pinning my arms over my head, while kissing my neck and chest. I raised up my leg and with all the force I could muster, swung it up and made contact with his groin. He moaned in pain, and keeled over to the side. I got up from the bed and ran for the door again. He was up , and caught me once again by the hair. I screamed for him to let me go, but his grip was as rough as it had ever been. He tossed me onto the bed once again, and ripped off the thin material of my dress. Holding my arms with one arm, his other started to explore my body, from my neck to my chest, cupping each breast and squeezing it, then trailing down my stomach down between my legs and up, stroking the delicate flesh there.
"Stop! Please don't do this! Please let me go!" I whimpered as my pleas went unheard. I felt my body start to go limp under his control; the more I struggled, the more force he belayed on me. Once his exploration ceased, he motioned and removed his robes, his pants, and stood naked before me.
"Don't do this, please Damien…please. You're not this guy, no matter how evil you are. Don't do this to me." I pleaded one last time, tears brewing in the corner of my eyes. But there was no sympathy in his eyes, just flooding lust and desperation and longing.
"You see my dear," he started as he pushed apart my legs and began to lower himself on to me, my body tensing up, "you are everything I could want in a woman. And you belong to me, and only me. You will always be mine, and you will never leave me, or else I will find you, and kill you. This is what the Dark Lord wants for us...you will be my queen, and you will help in the purification of the wizarding world. We will do his bidding, but right now, you will do mine. This is where it all starts…" he finished as he thrust his hardness into my reluctant region. Fast were the thrusts, each hard and painful. I cried out in pain as he pushed himself to exceed my limits, and he bit my shoulder and pulled at my long, silky hair. It seemed to last forever before I felt his body twitch and shudder as he came inside me. His body went rigid and still, and he laid on me for a minute, before getting up and leaving the room. I laid there, my body recovering from the abuse and damage wrought upon it. I felt sore and tenderness all over. I was in shock, I just got raped. …How could this happen to me?…I think to myself.
I slowly remove myself from the bed, and gather the remaining pieces of my clothes from the floor. As I approach the hallway, I look each way to make sure Damien isn't any where in sight. I run to my room, and double lock the door, even though it would be no good, magic can unlock doors. I stand in the shower for what seems like eternity, trying to scrub off the dirtiness on my body, rubbing my delicate skin raw of the germs acquired from Damien. I couldn't seem to get clean, I felt so dirty, so used. I stood in front of the mirror, and looked at my naked self. My eyes no longer held that confident, innocent friendly gaze it once had. My blue eyes no longer were full of innocence, my innocence was now gone. By auburn tresses were thin and dull, it seemed like the color was fading into a darker shade of reddish black, losing its brightness, luster, and appeal. My body was weaker than normal, my legs shaky, my breath raspy. I see the razor blade sitting on the sink, inviting, and mysterious. I grab it and sit in the corner on the floor of the bathroom, and I think of all the pain and suffering I've been the target of. The victim of this never-ending game of torment. I had no family, no friends…I was just an image. An image with no life, or soul. With my right hand I let the razor graze and pierce the thin flesh of my left wrist. A slight pain, but a little guilty pleasure as I felt the blood trickle down my arm. Relief, temporary relief of the pain. I switched the blade from one hand to the other, and cut my other wrist. The blood flowed down my arm. I sat there for a long time, and I started to feel my head get light, and I felt a coldness start to drizzle down my spine…. "Is this the end…?" I could only hope.