Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything you recognize. It all belongs to JKR. Takes place in DH, after Aberforth shows Harry the way into the castle.
From When to Why
Summary: -oneshot- And you longingly remember when Ariana would come home, flowers in each hand, skipping as if nothing would ever go wrong. And you remember when it all stopped. Good turned to bad, light into dark. Happiness into an endless reign of nothing.
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All it took was the-boy-who-lived. His words, his destination, his goals, his truthfulness, his views about your brother drove you into a worn chair next to a crackling fire in the second floor of your pub, stroking the wand which used to be Albus's before he found that wand he lived for. That was all it took for you to slowly yet suddenly realize what you really feel.
True, Albus was brilliant. He was beyond brilliant, not the type to waste his brilliance. But you couldn't help but remember the days when Albus put family before ambition. The days when he would laugh when the four-year-old Ariana would take the last cookie and he would run outside behind her, gesturing for you to help. Together, you'd grab her, tumbling into the soft grass, tickling her and laughing until you could laugh no more. And your parents would contently smile through the kitchen window as if their whole world was in that meadow.
And for you? It was.
And life goes on. It always does.
You remember when Ariana would run around with the goats while you fed them, loose curls bouncing flawlessly on her shoulders as she pranced around the few acres of land, innocent blue eyes sparkling with curiosity, pretending that she understood what the goats said. And you'd laugh along with Albus who had brought a book outside.
But it lay forgotten.
You remember when Ariana would come home, flowers in each hand, skipping as if nothing would ever go wrong. And if she was ever asked which her favorite was, she would indignantly reply that her whole bouquet would be "uncomp'ete" without any one of them. The house seemed light up with those flowers, changed when they died by Ariana herself.
Absolutely complete.
You remember when your mother would stir the batter for the simple plain cake she liked so much. And Ariana would insist on cream, wondering aloud how her mother could like something so plain. Your father would laugh and spin her around while she squealed. The few glances you got of her eyes at moments like those would make you wonder if anything could ever go wrong in the world, if anything bad could ever happen to her.
The possessor of such innocence.
And that life will keep going on; it always does.
But that was before it all stopped. Before Albus placed ambition before family. Before you could no longer make contact with Ariana's eyes. Before your father left and never came back. Before everything was sad and never happy. Before your whole world moved out of that meadow.
It was cloudy that evening.
Ariana had always hated clouds, despite loving rain. That evening, she was looking out at the horizon, grumpy because of the black blanket of clouds that just wouldn't give up a droplet of rain. You remember that the only reason she went outside was because the flowers in your room had dried up. And perhaps because of that inch of hope left that maybe, just maybe, it would rain that night.
The next thing you heard was screaming. Wailing, like you'd never heard before. It didn't take you anytime to realize that it was Ariana. You felt a rage spread through you like a coursing fire. You wanted to track down the culprit and make him pay for doing that to your little sister, the most prized thing in your life. You ran downstairs, hearing nothing but the screams of your sister. You wanted to hug her, hold onto her until everything was right again. But you reach the landing and you red faced father is slipping his coat on, teary eyed as he saw his daughter for one last time before grabbing his wand and storming into the night.
It rains.
You aren't even sure you mother notices. She holds her daughter who is in a state you don't have the heart to describe. Tears slide down her face faster than the rain but she doesn't make a sound, whether in fear that it would make Ariana worse or in hope that maybe it didn't happen. Ariana screams. You don't walk over. You don't hug her. It's as if touching her would make it all true, would confirm that it isn't a dream. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Albus, dumbstruck, standing on the landing. The book he was holding falls onto the floor with a thud you never heard. He bites his lip, realization dawning in his face. A whimper escapes from your mother's lips and that's all you needed. That whimper was your death sentence. Your knees give in.
Ariana's sobs don't subside all night.
It took her three nights to stop shaking. Three nights, only a part of the many worst nights ever. Your father came home looking grave but satisfied. And angry like you'd never seen him before.
The third day after it happened, you finally gather the courage to look Ariana in the eye. But she can't make contact. Her innocent, curious eyes are now glazed over and you know that she's looking at you, but you can't feel it. You can't feel the happiness and hope that welled up inside you every time she looked at you. You feel empty, as if you've lost something dear to you. As if you've lost the thing dear to you. And you wish you could find it again. But you don't.
You can't.
One indescribable morning, your father is snatched away from you. Accused of going after muggle boys. And you want nothing more than to scream out the real reason he did it. You want you father to tell them what happened, what those heartless freaks had done, but he doesn't. He doesn't deny anything. Torn by his departure, shredded by your sister's state, your mother decided to move away.
Albus drifts away. Caught in the "Greater Good" fantasies, he locks himself away from life. From earth. From reality.
From us.
But you still hold onto the fact that life will go on. It always does.
And then he comes along. The only person who will ever be worthy of him. An equal, with equal brilliance, equal ideas, equal reasons. Gellert Grindelwald. And somehow, you knew that you couldn't trust him. You blame your mothers' death on him.
But despite everything that's happened, the thing that affected you most was the fact that there were no more flowers left in the house.
Colors wiped out.
But the world isn't over. Ariana starts laughing again and you're sure that the world will go on; it always does. But that was before it didn't. Because of those boys, her wand still lies in one of those thousands of boxes at Ollivanders'. You couldn't go to Hogwarts that year without her. You tell your brother to either let go of his "Greater Good" theories or to let you stay home. That boy interferes.
A red jet of light nearly misses you and that was all any of you needed. Flashes and incantations and silent screams bounce of the walls. Ariana can't take it anymore.
She cries, bewildered by the lights. She tries to help, and one more flash of light and she's falling, falling.
A single tear finds its way to the dusty handle of the wand. You have nothing left to lose, your brother, sister, parents, everything you lived for, dead.
Battle starts raging in the distance and you pay no attention as a horde of students run through your pub. You grab your wand and cloak, and, with a last look at Ariana, you're gone.
And you know that no matter what happens…life will go on.
It always does.
A/N: Nope, I'm not satisfied, but I'll post it anyways. I like parts of it but it seems…I don't know… Anyway, review?