AN: This is a co-authored fic between Myself and Moonchild1212, and was formerly posted under the name "The Charm of Making" It is not copied we originally chose to post on both accounts. It has been almost a year since the passing of Moonchild1212 (though to her friends she was known as Katie) This story is based (in part) on an RP site that we once ran (though it is no longer operating) We portray only Severus and Arianna our lovely OC as well as a few others that may be dropped in from time to time.
I have decided to finish this fic because of her. Every other Wednesday I will be uploading a new chapter, (I have 6 done and a seventh almost done, but I want this to give me time to get reacquainted with the story and make any needed edits.
Disclaimer: We Own nothing. Harry Potter is owned by Warner Bros and our Queen JK Rowling. We make no money from this nor do we intend to.
Chapter 1
There are people in life that others tend to overlook, to ignore, be it for one reason or another. Sitting in a restaurant in Diagon Alley, one such person sat staring into her wine glass. She was a lonely sort, a secretary at the Ministry of Magic; never given much voice, she stuck to herself. Like most people, the brunette had a history, but something makes this woman different; something separates her from the rest.
Be it the scars that covered her skin making small patterns, though they stayed glamoured away, or some other facet of the intricately woven fabric that made up her very being; her history, that stays ,which is shrouded in mystery keeping who she truly is a secret from all those who may seek to cause her harm; or perhaps it lays in the prophecy that no one ever thought would be fulfilled?
Arianna Morigan James was a woman who had seen her fair share of horrors, had lived through more pain and hatred than many would ever have the chance to witness, but it had not tainted her nor had not ruined her. Her story ,though, does not start here. To know the truth and to see that beauty that lies within, we must go back, back thirty four years to a dark, cold winter night in Russia where the long, rough road that was her life would begin.
In a picturesque village just outside of Moscow, Russia sat a small house nestled into the forest amidst the pristine snow. Its roof sagged a little, the fence lay broken and the shutters hung loose on their hinges. The home was in disrepair; that much was obvious to all who lived in the village, but one look through the paned windows and you could see just how happy they were. Diana and Alexander Britanov lived here, along with their newborn daughter Anastasia; the baby lay in her crib sleeping quietly as they watched the fire together.
Alexander did his best to calm his wife's fears and to bring the joy back to her face that, only a few days prior, had arrived with their daughter. A trip into town had proven to be a bad idea though, when the town seer had approached them. A prophecy had been spoken and their fates had all but been sealed. Alexander didn't believe it, how could he? He refused to believe that his daughter, nothing more than a bundle of blankets, would one day do something extraordinary, that she would one day… No, he would not think of it, he refused to. His hand rubbed at his wife's back before he rose to get her some water, and the world around him seemed to explode.
He reached for his wand in the plush woolen fabric of his robe and watched his wife's limp body fly across the room; her hair flew like silken ribbons as her limp body hit the wall dislodging the pictures, which shattered from the concussive blow of the spell that had hit her. Alexander was in fighting stance; flicking his wand, he erected a shield to divert harmful spells while he looked for a target. He saw none. Several strong blasts blew the couch apart and the wooden shards rained down around him and were deflected by his shield. He had thrown his arm up as a reflexive reaction, and as he lowered it he saw her.
A lone,pale figure stood before him; her steely eyes bore into him. "Give me the child," her icy voice rang through the still room like thunder amidst a still night. Alexander knew that to give over Arianna to this woman would be madness. There was no tenderness, no remorse in her stern face. She was a reaper, a succubus, a taker,and she would render any soul near her bare and bereft. He would die before he allowed her to harm his child. Fearsomely, the powerful wizard wielded his wand calling forth the ancient magics of his forefathers. The spells flew from his wand like liquid lightning. His moves were deft and precise, and the magic whipped his greying beard over his shoulder and set his dark robes in motion. Witch and Wizard were locked in battle while the lifeblood seeped from Diana. She lay gasping amidst the rubble and prayed to Merlin that her husband would come out victorious.
"Give me the child, Wizard," the cold voice demanded. "Give me the child and you and your wife will be spared," she coaxed.
He laughed hollowly, "You forget yourself, Witch. No Wizard, no father worth his salt would yield his child to the likes of you," he screamed and deftly parried her assault.
Madly, she cackled, "This is your last chance. I strongly urge you to take it!"
A weak blast shot from the corner, and the Witch dodged it with ease. Briefly, she focused a blow on the raw target Diane presented. Alexander's scream rent the air as he watched the light leave his wife's eyes. In his grief, he was not quick enough to escape the blow that cost him his life and cost his daughter her freedom, her childhood, . . . her soul.
She cackled as she walked through the door, exiting the house with the babe in her arms just before it seemed to implode upon itself flames licking from the windows, doors and spaces created from the sagging roof. With a slow turn and a sneer she watched before looking down at the babe.
"You will be more powerful than anyone can comprehend, and it will be I who will mold you to the dark queen that you shall become. Anastasia you are no longer, you will be called Arianna, and you will be feared."
"Stand up straight," Katarzyna ordered, "Stop fidgeting." The gruff woman, the author of her misery barked at her. Arianna bit her lip and pulled her aching shoulders back. Hefty glamour charms concealed the wealth of bruises and scars that littered her body. She glared at the image that stared back at her in the mirror: flawless skin, full lips, and bright eyes. In reality, she was exhausted. Her jaw was covered in a greenish hue, where it had been broken the night before by her . . . fiance when she had failed to accept his proposal with grace.
Katarzyna pulled the laces on her corset tighter causing her to wince with pain. Her fractured ribs protested and tears trailed down her porcelain cheeks. She bit her lip and opened the old wound that never truly healed. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, and she swallowed it and down with it went any emotion. Her gaze met Katarzyna's hawk like stare, "What, you think you're above him? You think you don't deserve any of this? This is your fate; this is your life. Accept it girl. Your life would be easier if I didn't have to constantly beat the fight out of you; stupid wretch." Her gnarled old hands continued to yank on the laces as she pulled the dress tighter. Cold hands reached around to handle her breasts, and Arianna fought to keep her meal down. Those sharp fingers pulled and pushed at her tender flesh until she was spilling over the top of the farce of a wedding dress they in which they had encased her. And irony of ironies, it was white. She almost broke out in hysterical laughter. She hadn't been a virgin since she was raped by one of the many bastards Katarzyna had thrown her to since she was thirteen years old. Before that, she was only forced to perform unspeakable acts upon them.
"Well, you'll have to do." Katarzyna turned to open a black velvet case on the vanity nearby. "If you ask me, this is wasted on you," she said as she pulled out a necklace dripping with large diamonds. She draped the necklace around the younger woman's throat and fastened the clasp. "You must listen to Alistaire," her old voice cracked as their eyes met. "I know you hate me, and I have worked hard to make it so. You think that I am evil, heartless. Maybe this is the case, but I have made you nonetheless," her smile was cold. "You are our weapon; never forget that. You are ours, and you can not escape. We will find you; I will find you."
Arianna listened to the familiar diatribe and mentally rolled her eyes in aggravation, Katarzyna circled to stand before her. Poised on the small dais so that she could be dressed by the woman before her, Arianna gazed at her reflection. The dress was somewhat pretty, though the gleaming crystals and wealth of pleats made it a bit gaudy. The gown weighed more than she did and seemed to pull at her very skin. The charms did a good job of holding her mass of dark waves up into an elegant and intricate coiffure. The diamonds at her throat that should have made her seem delicate and enhance her only seemed to overwhelm her and make her look even smaller. In the depths of her eyes a deep sorrow lay hidden in the depths of her dark eyes.
Katarzyna continued, "You will obey Alistaire, my dear, or you will suffer the wrath of clan McCullen. Do you know what his grandfather did to his reticent bride?" She paused as she adjusted the gauzy veil between them. Looking into the younger woman's eyes, she smiled maliciously, "After her father signed the betrothal contract, and he took possession of his bride, she was rather . . .uncooperative." Her eyes narrowed devilishly. "He took her by force, brutally, and then he let the rest of his brothers have her." Nonchalantly, Katarzyna inspected the long, sharp nails on her heavily veined, gnarled hands. "She ran away after escaping, bloody and bruised. They caught her near the old henge. The old wizard affixed her to the stone altar and sacrificed her to Morrigan so that she would bring them victory in their next battle. He sent what was left of her wrapped in the dower linens that had adorned their marriage bed to her father, who promptly waged war upon them and lost."
Arianna stared blankly at the woman who stood before her, several emotions flashing through her mind, anger of course, sadness, and then a vengeful spirit that had been known to get her into trouble pushed itself forward and the words seemed to fall from her mouth. "It isn't too different from what is happening to me is it? Only the men you let rape me weren't my husband. What will he do, do you think when he finds I am not a virgin. When he knows that you used me for you ill gotten games and turned me into nothing but a whore?" She shook with unfulfilled rage tears falling down her cheek.
Katarzyna laughed hollowly, "Ahh, but my dear," she caressed the porcelain like skin beneath the veil, "I've thought of everything. That simpleton will never know, and you will not tell him. Unless, you have a deathwish?" She pulled back slowly and walked over to the vanity where her crooked fingers lingered over the crystal vials of perfume and powders that had been used to prepare Arianna for the occasion. She hovered over a small shimmering decanter filled with what looked to be black ichor. "This," she turned slowly and pinned Arianna with her hate filled glare, "is a gift from a very unwilling donor. But," she smiled mirthlessly, "it had to be so! This lovely potion is a restorative. I hope you will appreciate what it cost me." She drew closer and grasped Arianna's wrist in a steely grip and shoved the delicate vial in her cold, clammy palm. "I secured the rather handsome services of a very talented potion's master in order to have this created. The young witch in question, an insignificant muggle born, had her delicate little hymen cut out with a very sharp knife. I'm told that, after her sacrifice, she proved to be a very lively distraction for the Death Eaters that captured her."
"This potion, Restitui Virgínitas , will restore you to an uncorrupted state. Your groom will never know. It would behoove you to maintain this illusion." She smiled and unstoppered the potion. Lifting it to Arianna's lips she ordered, "Drink!"
Shaking Arianna slapped the vial from Katarzyna's hand watching the dark liquid seem into the white carpeting below before pulling her fist back and wholoping the old crone. "No! All my life you have done this to me. Made me what you needed what you wanted; never again!" She felt it then, the sudden freedom before the world turned black. Rolling her neck it popped loudly a few times her countenance changed. "Little Arianna is your tool no more."
"You little fool! You would defy me?" Katarzyna yelled furiously. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and her eye began to twitch menacingly. She scrambled backwards on the floor and pulled her wand from her sleeve with trembling fingers.
"Your threats are baseless old woman." With a flick of her wrist the old crone was pressed against the far wall by some unseen force. Her neck was turned at an odd angle, and she screamed wordlessly. "You have abused me, tormented me, and taken from me for the last time." Power surged through Arianna and she raged, an inferno of power. Flinging her arms back the room filled with her power and she pelted the immobile body of the old woman with implements of beautification. The crystal shattered spraying nauseating perfume throughout the room, and the shards embedded within the tissue like skin of the writhing woman. Blood oozed from a multitude of wounds on her body.
Arianna yelled and began slamming the limp body of the elderly woman repeatedly against the wall. She heard the cracking of bones and saw the visible effects of her brutal attack. An arm hung out of socket, her right leg was bent unnaturally, and her jaw was clearly broken. She twitched as her life blood leaked from her, and Arianna loomed over her, a smirk on her face as she watched the light faded from her eyes.
With a jolt Arianna looked about the room, confused and trying to find out what happened. It was as if she had fallen back into her body. Her limbs were heavy and her head was pounding. She saw the broken body of Katarzyna laying before her, and she was momentarily taken aback. She fell forward, her face in the perfume drenched carpet, and heaved until her stomach was empty. She drew her arm across her face and took in a shuddering breath. Her mind whirled into action, and she quickly removed the ungainly underskirt from the dress and gathered her dress before opening the heavy door leading into a darkly lit hallway.
She made it halfway down the hall before she heard him, Alistaire.
"Where are you headed, poppet?" He came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her narrow waist.
She swallowed thickly and stiffened at his touch, like she normally did. She let out a low gasping breath before looking around trying to think of an excuse for her fiance. "I just need some air, love." The last word she ground out like it was a bad taste in her mouth. "I am just so nervous, you know it is for women, just a bundle of nerves." She said softly hoping that he would believe her.
"You expect me to believe that drivel?" He tisked, " I saw Katarzyna's body in the dressing room; do you have any idea what you have done you little fool?" His grip tightened painfully. "Did you think you were just going to walk out of here unimpeded?" He began to pull her towards another room, and Arianna knew if he succeeded, her life would be forfeit. She struggled valiantly, slapping and clawing at him, carving nail marks on his face and hands. She needed to get away.
Using her body weight, she shifted forward setting him off balance. He stumbled, and she took advantage of his momentary fumble by grabbing her wand. He lashed out with his fist and connected with her shoulder. She bore down on her lip, drawing blood so that she didn't cry out, knowing it would only make any attack from him that much worse. Nothing in this world could have prepared her for this, but with a heaving gasp she was pushed into the darkness again.
"You might want to think again, my dear, if you think that I will be your play thing, your wife or your toy. " Flicking her wand at him he fell backwards smashing into one of the decorative suits of armor that filed the hallway. Turning she walked a few steps down the hallway before she heard the venom filled laugh.
"Well, look who decided to grow a spine, it's a bit too late for that though, I have it down on paper with your blood, you are mine, bitch." He flicked his wand at her, a sneer on his face a moment before called out the slicing jinx. She hadn't moved fast enough to evade it though and was hit square in the chest. She let out a long shrill scream as scarlet began to seep through her corseted gown. One hand moved to touch her chest it came away crimson red and the world went red around the edges.
"You bastard, you cannot best me that easily. " She moved her left hand at the same time that she moved her hand and sending armor down on him as a burning curse him. Jinxes, curses and offensive charms were flying as she battled her way down the hallway. Approaching the staircase, she knew what would happen when she went down them, she knew there was only one way to stop them all; she had to bring the house down around them. Turning her head she looked to see the beautiful mahogany support beam near the bay window; she had loved to sit on it and read. Her breaths coming in short gasps, she did not hesitate as another jinx hit her.
Screaming in frustration, she blasted the four beams she saw before moving down the staircase. Her hair had lost its charms whilst in the hallway, so it now hung in its mass of brown wild waves about her through the foyer she blasted the door off the hinges and ran like a mad woman out into the rain.
"Arianna! You come back here, I'm going to get you, you bitch!" Hearing Alistaire's voice, she began to run down the front path and into the mazed hedgerow that now was the only thing standing between her and freedom.
She shook, trembling as sobbing gasps nearly render her unable to move. She had no idea of where she was, how she had gotten outside, but she had traversed that maze so many times she knew it like the back of her hand. Lifting her heavy skirts she ran inside just as the rain began to fall.
She could still hear him as she ran, her blood coursing through her veins spilling out of the fresh wounds across her chest and breasts. The normally refreshing rain seemed to make them burn causing her to cry out in pain as she ran, panic over taking her as the blasts and screams of the madman could be heard from coming behind her. She couldn't do this, she couldn't run anymore, she knew she had to fight to save herself at long last from this hell that she had been living for so long.
Reaching the center of the maze she ran to the other side and stopped, staring at the hedge archway before her she swallowed thickly, as her pulse played drums in her ears. Reaching down, she ripped the material of her dress so that she had more freedom of movement. she left the beautiful white satin on the damp grass. It glowed like snow in the moonlight. She raced across the grounds; her hair whipped like a banner behind her.
She heard them following her and abstained from using magic in order to hide her movements. Their voices slowly grew faint as she made her way through the brush and weeds. The night grew darker, and lightning shot across the sky casting an electric glow on the darkened wood. The rain began to pour forth from the sky; it seemed to spew forth the emotion she had repressed. She felt the cold steel into her fingers and extremities as the rain coursed down her face. Breath hitching, she continued to run until she saw a dim glow ahead of her. She made her way out of a dense patch of trees and began running across the clearcut field. Her legs ached, and her body protested. She felt the sting of the open wound on her chest. Her body ached. Her foot slipped into a rut, and she screamed as she fell forward. She lost consciousness as her head violently hit the cold, hard earth below her. The rain continued to wash over her as her body slowly drained of warmth and lifeblood.
A dark, halting shape made it's way slowly across the field. It trundled over the hilly ground until it came upon a pale figure stretched upon the grass. A harshly muttered levitation charm lifted the girl, and the figure looked toward the moon, which had peeked between the angry clouds. Moody's barrel like figure was revealed. His roving eye examined the area for signs of trouble. When he found none, he extended the shield over himself and the girl to keep them dry and quickly brought her body into the warm, dry cottage.