A/N Hello! My name is Adrianna or Adri, whichever you choose to call me.
I'll do a *quick* introduction to my story, and then we'll begin!
It is after Harry's graduation from Hogwarts. The Wizarding World and the Order of the Pheonix had fought the war for three years. Then, it seemed as if the good would win, and that they were on their way to victory. Then Hagrid was killed, betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, just as James and Lily had been. More deaths followed. Dumbledore, Snape, Ginny; the good faltered and lost some of their most important people. In a hopeless battle, Voldemort finally took over. In the two months that have followed, Hogwarts has been destroyed, and Voldemort has issued an order; death to all Muggle-Borns. Many have gone into hiding, but it is difficult to hide from such a powerful wizard. But the Death Eaters have another obstacle; Dumbledore's Army has been formed again.
~*~
Petra Fairweather woke with a start. Outside, she heard the screams of the Austens across the street. Jumping out of bed, careful to make no noise, she peered through the curtains of her bedroom window. Death Eaters, dressed in their long black cloaks and masks, exited the house, pushing the Austens through the door. Following them, people she knew, but had not seen for two months, were two Muggle-Borns; Justin Flinch-Fletchley and his younger sister Marina. Petra gasped out loud. Justin, now 18 , picked up his small sister. The shouts and commands of the Death Eaters cut Petra's heart.
As quickly as it had started, the Death Eaters had taken their prisoners and Disapparated. Dropping the curtain and gripping the windowsill, her eyes closed, Petra tried to get her breath back.
She'd known Justin. Barely, because she had three years behind him at Hogwarts, and in a different house, but he had been Prefect, and going out with one of the other Ravenclaws in the year above. He could have been something really good to this world, she thought. Many of them could have.
But they weren't allowed to, she reminded herself. It had been two months ago that she, and the rest of the Wizarding world had heard the order. All Muggle-Borns were to be round-up and executed. Dumbledore's Army, an underground movement Petra and her father were secretly part of, had been quick to act. Although she herself didn't take part in hiding the Muggle- Borns yet, others had hidden them quickly.
Angry that almost none of them had been found, Voldemort sent out a new order; he had ordered that not only the Muggle-Borns be killed, but those hiding them as well. There would be five more executions at dawn today, Petra thought bitterly.
Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she swore at the long-gone Death Eaters. It was 4:30 , too early to be awake. She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling until the first rays of sunlight lit her room. Then, she got up. She had a delivery to make today.
~*~
Now sitting at her kitchen table, Petra poured milk into her cereal bowl and picked up the Daily Prophet. She just as soom dropped it from disgust. This was not real news, not like the news she got from meetings. This was Death Eaters word, their attempt to brainwash the public. She glanced at the names under the articles. She made a tutting noise. Just as she had expected, all the articles were written by important Death Eaters, the ones right inside Voldemorts inner circle. She sighed, and started to eat her cereal.
Footsteps on the stairs told her ears that her father Aaron was up. He entered the kitchen and smiled at his only daughter.
" Goodmorning Petra," he said.
" If you can call it good," she replied, in a much less cheerful voice.
They ate their breakfast in silence for a while, until Petra couldn't stand the silence.
" The Austens and Flinch-Fletcheys are dead by now," she said looking at her father with her dark eyes. His head snapped up from his cereal bowl.
" What are you saying Petra?"
" You know what I'm saying. They found them last night. Death Eaters raided their house and found the Flinch-Fletcheys hiding there.Look for yourself, no one's left. "
" How do you know this?" her father asked carefully.
" Because I saw," she snapped. Quickly, she stood up and walked to the window.
" They're not safe in our world, Dad. They need to go to the Muggles. I don't think our organizers realise the danger they're in hiding here. It's too easy for the Death Eaters to find them. Why can't I help them hide in a better place?" she cried.
" You're too young Petra. They show no mercy. Nnot even for young, pretty girls like you.You're in enough danger just having your photo in that photograph! Besides, Muggle-Borns belong here. We can't send them away."
" And how are they a part of this world? How are any of us part of it? Is it because we have magic in our blood? What good is it if we cannot use our wands? Do any of us belong here anymore?" She took a deep breath and calmed down.
" I might not have been in Gryffindor, " she continued in a hushed voice, " But that doesn't mean Ravenclaws aren't brave. That I'm not brave. I want to do more. Next meeting I'll tell them that. You can't hold me back simply because Mum was killed. She died for a reason, and I'm going to do what she couldn't."
With those words, she picked up a package on the table and went back upstairs.
~*~
Standing in front of her mirror, Petra looked at her disguise with approval. It was the fourth time she'd used this one, and soon she'd have to use another one. This time, she was going to be a Muggle Nurse. Dressed in the uniform and placing a stethescope around her neck for good measure, she certainly looked the part. Her fake Muggle identity said she was Carol Merriton, 21 years old. She hoped she looked that old. If stopped by Death Eaters for any reason, they wouldn't know she was Petra Fairweather.
For her delivery, she was to bring fake identities to a DA member in Cambridge, about 75 kilometres away from her town of Norwich. She would take a Muggle train as far as possible, but would have to bike 7 kilometres as to discourage anyone following her.
For the last touch, she placed clear contacts in her eyes, something the DA had recently recieved from their contacts in Bulgaria. They gave her the ability to see through invisibility cloaks, so that she would see every Death Eater either watching or following her.
She hid the identities in her bra, socks, and her bag, then walked back downstairs. Her father was still sitting in the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek and he nodded his head to let her know he'd let her do what she wanted to help.
" I have a delivery to make in Cambridge, Dad. I should be back by 3:00."
She walked out of the door and looked for Death Eaters outside her house. There were none. As if the world she knew was not falling apart, as if life was normal, and most importantly, as if she wasn't doing anything she shouldn't, she waslked down her driveway. But she couldn't help glancing at the Austen's now-empty house. The Dark Mark, the disgusting green that it was, still hung over it. With the wand she wasn't supposed to have hidden beneath her sleeve, she muttered the incantation and the Dark Mark dissappeared. She could get into a lot of trouble for that, but they wouldn't find out, would they?
An inexplicable rage filled Petra's body, heart, and mind when she remembered the events of last night. She couldn't stop fighting them now. The revenge she could have if only she had the chance... She'd kill them, kill them like they had killed her sister. She didn't care about the danger; she needed to fight the Death Eaters until peace was back in the Wizarding World. She'd made up her mind. It was what she had to do. She'd help bring the peace.
~*~
Walking down the quiet street, Petra could barely stand it. The irony of all this, the irony of her whole life.
The street was peaceful. No, it looked peaceful. The sun was rising over the rooftops, and the soft cooing of a morning dove could be heard. How were the Muggles ever to tell that they were soon going to be killed, imprisoned, enslaved, by those- those despicable- those... Even in her head Petra could not find a word that was mean enough to describe the Death Eaters.
Like that arrogant fraud Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy, third in command, right behind the Lestranges. Petra had always hated him, and his son Draco. At Hogwarts, prancing around, giving threats to every person he might think had anything to do with the Order. Oh, she had wanted to slap that smirk right of his pale face every time she saw him. He wouldn't forget what his family had done to her mum. She'd make sure of that.
He would probably be starting his training to become a Death Eater, following dear daddy's footsteps. He'd be killing some innocent Muggles to show he was worthy enough to serve Voldemort. Worthy my arse, that piece of scum, thought Petra.
Finally, she reached the train station just as the sun had illuminated the entire city with early morning light. The month of August had been very hot, and already Petra could feel the heat through her nurse's uniform.
Squinting he dark grey eyes suspiciously, she looked around the platform, looking for anyone who might recognise who she actually was. For an instant, she thought she caught sight of a wand carelessly placed in a pocket, but upon closer inspection, she realised it was a pencil, the tool Muggles used for writing. Personally, Petra thought that quills were much better. Especially sugar quills. She used to love those.
But now was not the time to think of that. The moment of panic she had felt when she had seen the "wand" had been a reminder that there might actually be some danger in this trip. She very well might be seen. She'd be careful. She had to be.
It is after Harry's graduation from Hogwarts. The Wizarding World and the Order of the Pheonix had fought the war for three years. Then, it seemed as if the good would win, and that they were on their way to victory. Then Hagrid was killed, betrayed by Peter Pettigrew, just as James and Lily had been. More deaths followed. Dumbledore, Snape, Ginny; the good faltered and lost some of their most important people. In a hopeless battle, Voldemort finally took over. In the two months that have followed, Hogwarts has been destroyed, and Voldemort has issued an order; death to all Muggle-Borns. Many have gone into hiding, but it is difficult to hide from such a powerful wizard. But the Death Eaters have another obstacle; Dumbledore's Army has been formed again.
~*~
Petra Fairweather woke with a start. Outside, she heard the screams of the Austens across the street. Jumping out of bed, careful to make no noise, she peered through the curtains of her bedroom window. Death Eaters, dressed in their long black cloaks and masks, exited the house, pushing the Austens through the door. Following them, people she knew, but had not seen for two months, were two Muggle-Borns; Justin Flinch-Fletchley and his younger sister Marina. Petra gasped out loud. Justin, now 18 , picked up his small sister. The shouts and commands of the Death Eaters cut Petra's heart.
As quickly as it had started, the Death Eaters had taken their prisoners and Disapparated. Dropping the curtain and gripping the windowsill, her eyes closed, Petra tried to get her breath back.
She'd known Justin. Barely, because she had three years behind him at Hogwarts, and in a different house, but he had been Prefect, and going out with one of the other Ravenclaws in the year above. He could have been something really good to this world, she thought. Many of them could have.
But they weren't allowed to, she reminded herself. It had been two months ago that she, and the rest of the Wizarding world had heard the order. All Muggle-Borns were to be round-up and executed. Dumbledore's Army, an underground movement Petra and her father were secretly part of, had been quick to act. Although she herself didn't take part in hiding the Muggle- Borns yet, others had hidden them quickly.
Angry that almost none of them had been found, Voldemort sent out a new order; he had ordered that not only the Muggle-Borns be killed, but those hiding them as well. There would be five more executions at dawn today, Petra thought bitterly.
Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she swore at the long-gone Death Eaters. It was 4:30 , too early to be awake. She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling until the first rays of sunlight lit her room. Then, she got up. She had a delivery to make today.
~*~
Now sitting at her kitchen table, Petra poured milk into her cereal bowl and picked up the Daily Prophet. She just as soom dropped it from disgust. This was not real news, not like the news she got from meetings. This was Death Eaters word, their attempt to brainwash the public. She glanced at the names under the articles. She made a tutting noise. Just as she had expected, all the articles were written by important Death Eaters, the ones right inside Voldemorts inner circle. She sighed, and started to eat her cereal.
Footsteps on the stairs told her ears that her father Aaron was up. He entered the kitchen and smiled at his only daughter.
" Goodmorning Petra," he said.
" If you can call it good," she replied, in a much less cheerful voice.
They ate their breakfast in silence for a while, until Petra couldn't stand the silence.
" The Austens and Flinch-Fletcheys are dead by now," she said looking at her father with her dark eyes. His head snapped up from his cereal bowl.
" What are you saying Petra?"
" You know what I'm saying. They found them last night. Death Eaters raided their house and found the Flinch-Fletcheys hiding there.Look for yourself, no one's left. "
" How do you know this?" her father asked carefully.
" Because I saw," she snapped. Quickly, she stood up and walked to the window.
" They're not safe in our world, Dad. They need to go to the Muggles. I don't think our organizers realise the danger they're in hiding here. It's too easy for the Death Eaters to find them. Why can't I help them hide in a better place?" she cried.
" You're too young Petra. They show no mercy. Nnot even for young, pretty girls like you.You're in enough danger just having your photo in that photograph! Besides, Muggle-Borns belong here. We can't send them away."
" And how are they a part of this world? How are any of us part of it? Is it because we have magic in our blood? What good is it if we cannot use our wands? Do any of us belong here anymore?" She took a deep breath and calmed down.
" I might not have been in Gryffindor, " she continued in a hushed voice, " But that doesn't mean Ravenclaws aren't brave. That I'm not brave. I want to do more. Next meeting I'll tell them that. You can't hold me back simply because Mum was killed. She died for a reason, and I'm going to do what she couldn't."
With those words, she picked up a package on the table and went back upstairs.
~*~
Standing in front of her mirror, Petra looked at her disguise with approval. It was the fourth time she'd used this one, and soon she'd have to use another one. This time, she was going to be a Muggle Nurse. Dressed in the uniform and placing a stethescope around her neck for good measure, she certainly looked the part. Her fake Muggle identity said she was Carol Merriton, 21 years old. She hoped she looked that old. If stopped by Death Eaters for any reason, they wouldn't know she was Petra Fairweather.
For her delivery, she was to bring fake identities to a DA member in Cambridge, about 75 kilometres away from her town of Norwich. She would take a Muggle train as far as possible, but would have to bike 7 kilometres as to discourage anyone following her.
For the last touch, she placed clear contacts in her eyes, something the DA had recently recieved from their contacts in Bulgaria. They gave her the ability to see through invisibility cloaks, so that she would see every Death Eater either watching or following her.
She hid the identities in her bra, socks, and her bag, then walked back downstairs. Her father was still sitting in the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek and he nodded his head to let her know he'd let her do what she wanted to help.
" I have a delivery to make in Cambridge, Dad. I should be back by 3:00."
She walked out of the door and looked for Death Eaters outside her house. There were none. As if the world she knew was not falling apart, as if life was normal, and most importantly, as if she wasn't doing anything she shouldn't, she waslked down her driveway. But she couldn't help glancing at the Austen's now-empty house. The Dark Mark, the disgusting green that it was, still hung over it. With the wand she wasn't supposed to have hidden beneath her sleeve, she muttered the incantation and the Dark Mark dissappeared. She could get into a lot of trouble for that, but they wouldn't find out, would they?
An inexplicable rage filled Petra's body, heart, and mind when she remembered the events of last night. She couldn't stop fighting them now. The revenge she could have if only she had the chance... She'd kill them, kill them like they had killed her sister. She didn't care about the danger; she needed to fight the Death Eaters until peace was back in the Wizarding World. She'd made up her mind. It was what she had to do. She'd help bring the peace.
~*~
Walking down the quiet street, Petra could barely stand it. The irony of all this, the irony of her whole life.
The street was peaceful. No, it looked peaceful. The sun was rising over the rooftops, and the soft cooing of a morning dove could be heard. How were the Muggles ever to tell that they were soon going to be killed, imprisoned, enslaved, by those- those despicable- those... Even in her head Petra could not find a word that was mean enough to describe the Death Eaters.
Like that arrogant fraud Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy, third in command, right behind the Lestranges. Petra had always hated him, and his son Draco. At Hogwarts, prancing around, giving threats to every person he might think had anything to do with the Order. Oh, she had wanted to slap that smirk right of his pale face every time she saw him. He wouldn't forget what his family had done to her mum. She'd make sure of that.
He would probably be starting his training to become a Death Eater, following dear daddy's footsteps. He'd be killing some innocent Muggles to show he was worthy enough to serve Voldemort. Worthy my arse, that piece of scum, thought Petra.
Finally, she reached the train station just as the sun had illuminated the entire city with early morning light. The month of August had been very hot, and already Petra could feel the heat through her nurse's uniform.
Squinting he dark grey eyes suspiciously, she looked around the platform, looking for anyone who might recognise who she actually was. For an instant, she thought she caught sight of a wand carelessly placed in a pocket, but upon closer inspection, she realised it was a pencil, the tool Muggles used for writing. Personally, Petra thought that quills were much better. Especially sugar quills. She used to love those.
But now was not the time to think of that. The moment of panic she had felt when she had seen the "wand" had been a reminder that there might actually be some danger in this trip. She very well might be seen. She'd be careful. She had to be.