A/N:
IMPORTANT NOTE: This oneshot fanfic was for a competition, and in said competition, I had to base a story off of "The Hut in the Forest", a Grimm's fairytale. It would probably help to skim that over before reading this, but there's a good chance it's still understandable otherwise.
On a side note, I can't tell you how much I worked my butt off for this, and there are still bits of it that I'm not satisfied with. However, I am happy with how it came out overall. It's certainly been awhile since I've written anything at all, so I'm glad I could crank this out, and I'm positive it's quite different from anything you'll ever read. Enjoy, and don't forget to review! :)
The Hut in the Forest
He was there. Of course he was there; he was always there with her. Tall, pale, quiet…but there was something different. Those eyes…she didn't know those eyes. He had once looked at her with such admiration, such gentleness, but now they glared with pure vacancy. She was nothing to him. Nothing.
"How could you do this, Marietta?" he seethed. "How could you betray us? Betray me?"
She sobbed, covering her face with her hands, the tears pouring from her eyes. Her face was stinging unbearably, and she felt blood under her fingers. "I didn't mean to!" she cried. "I'm sorry!"
He shook his head back and forth. "Sorry isn't enough anymore," he said, turning his back and walking away.
"No…no…" she whispered. "Come back…"
But he didn't bother turning around, and Marietta collapsed on the floor, unable to control herself any longer.
Twenty-two-year-old Marietta Edgecombe woke with a start, beads of sweat soaking her forehead. Her breathing was ragged and heavy, and it took her a few moments to realize where she was. The walls around her were a cool mint green, not the heavy stone of the castle, and it was a bed she sat in, not a hard chair in the Transfigurations classroom. Six years had passed since she'd been at Hogwarts, six long years since she made that fateful decision, but the nightmares still plagued her mind while she slept, reminding her of the past she tried so hard to forget.
Liar. Cheater. Sneak.
With a sigh, she rose from her bed and headed to the bathroom down the hall. After leaving the school, she found it difficult to find a place anywhere in the magical world. Though she loved her parents very much, she could no longer trust anyone, and so she gave up her mother's offer for a job at the Ministry to live in the Muggle world. She'd chosen a quieter life, a simple life. At seventeen years old, she moved out of her parents' house and found a small cottage on the outskirts of a tiny village, keeping as much distance from magic as possible. And as the years passed, she grew comfortable, though she always had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind.
Marietta let out a sleepy grumble as she splashed her face with cool water, feeling her rough skin under her fingertips. She patted it dry with a soft towel and looked at herself in the mirror, the cruel, scarred lines stretched across her cheeks. Over the years, she'd tried countless potions and spells to get her face back, but she had to see her reflection every day and be reminded of her past…of her mistakes, her would-haves and could-haves, of her betrayal. Still, as she turned off the faucet, it had been six years since the incident, but there would always be one thing she regretted the most.
Him.
She'd seen his face in her mind again while she slept, a mere memory of something she left unresolved long ago. As she put on the kettle for a pot of peppermint tea, Marietta tried to clear her mind, but yet again it was futile. Life by the village had taught her to enjoy the little things, to abandon petty wants and needs. Although she'd eliminated each challenge, there was only one thing left in this world that she wanted…and it was the one thing she'd given up.
The hot tea felt good on her throat as she glanced out the window, not a cloud in the sky. Realizing that she had very little food left in the cupboards, she decided to go into town and restock her shelves. When she was eighteen, Marietta discovered her uncanny ability for baking, and she ran a small business out of her cottage, selling pies and cakes and tarts. It gave her a blissful feeling to create something out of nothing, to watch her customer's faces as they took that first bite. For Marietta, the irony was incredible. It seemed silly to her; the desserts she made were absolutely beautiful, and she felt anything but. Without a doubt, however, living here was the best decision she ever made.
If only it didn't have to follow the worst.
Marietta downed the last of her tea and cleaned up, grabbing a woven basket by the front door and slipping a bit of Muggle money into her pockets. As she glanced around the kitchen, making a mental list of the thing she needed to buy, her eyes caught the tiny wooden chest on the top shelf, painted a deep blue. Inside was her precious wand, her only attachment to the world she left behind. Following Hogwarts, she found herself using it less and less, until the day came where she didn't use it at all. The only reason she kept it was because she still couldn't bear to destroy it, because it gave her the tiniest smidge of hope that she could make things right one day.
With one last look at her wand, she turned her back and left the cottage.
The village streets were busy when she arrived. It was the beginning of the fall season, the beginning of new crops and new life. Marietta breathed in the fresh air, loving the outdoors. She hummed a pleasant tune as she took in her surroundings: the people bargaining over goods, the children playing in the street, and the twittering birds up in the trees. If it was one thing she couldn't understand, it was how the pureblood wizarding world never seemed to like Muggles. In reality, they were just like anybody else. They had jobs and families, the regular ups and downs of life. She'd grown up in a pureblood family, her mother loyal to the Ministry of Magic, but it wasn't until she moved here that she realized she had been wrong about her interpretations. The only difference was their lack of magical blood…but Marietta didn't see a problem with that. She now understood that just because they were different didn't mean they deserved to be destroyed.
"Good morning, Marietta!" A bright and cheery voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and the young witch turned to find the source of the greeting. She smiled as she turned to see a small, slightly chubby man carrying a bundle of wheat.
"Hi, Henry," she replied. Henry was a farmer in his mid-forties, and one of Marietta's first friends when she moved to her cottage. He was also her best customer, usually the one who made her run out of supplies because of his liking for blueberry pie. Although Marietta kept in touch with her parents, they hardly ever ventured out to the cottage—"filled with too many Muggles," her mother would say—so Henry became a stand-in father figure. On most days, she found Henry with a kind face and a good word, but today, it seemed all of his happiness was used in his salutation, for his face had fallen and he was no longer grinning.
Marietta's smile faded as well. "Is something wrong?"
Henry sighed and shifted the wheat from one arm to the other. "My daughters," he replied softly. "I sent Vanessa into the forest three days ago to go apple picking, and she hadn't returned by nightfall, so I asked Veronica to go the next day. Neither of them have returned." His face was pitiful and sad.
Marietta did not know Vanessa and Veronica too well; they were Henry's twin teenage daughters and he cherished them deeply. They were often quite rude and selfish, though, so Marietta did not have a strong liking for them. Still, she could see the pain on Henry's face, and felt sorry for him.
"What if I went to go look for them?" she said. "Mind you, I've only lived here a few years, not my whole life like they have, but I know the forest pretty well."
Henry's eyes lit up as she said this. "You would do that for me?" When Marietta nodded, he grew slightly anxious. "I'm not so sure about this. I went in there myself yesterday and barely found my way out. I don't want you getting lost too."
Marietta couldn't help but smile reassuringly. "Don't worry. There's a good chance they didn't go too far. I'll find them, and we'll be all right."
At this, Henry completely dropped the bundle of wheat and threw his arms around Marietta. "Oh, my dear, whatever would I do without you?"
The young witch couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Not have a decent pie, that's what." She could feel him chuckling as well as he pulled away, letting his hands rest on her shoulders.
"I'm really going to owe you for this, you know."
"Here." Marietta handed him the woven basket. "You can start by getting a few blueberries, and then we'll talk."
Henry gave a full belly laugh this time. "You're one in a million."
Marietta had been in the forest for nearly two hours and still saw no sign of the twins. It had only been late morning when she left, but the skies were growing darker, as if it were to rain. The further she traveled into the trees, the more dense they became. She was determined, however, to find the girls and get out safely. For the first time in months, she wished she'd brought her wand, but it still remained in the box at her cottage. While she searched, however, she had plenty of time to think.
Not that she thought enough already.
The last time she had a pleasant dream, Marietta didn't know. The nightmares had become so usual that she'd begun to think they would always remain with her. Her dream the previous night had never occurred in reality, but over the years her brain helped her believe it. There were good memories, of course, but they had been tucked so tightly away that she barely recalled them anymore.
She saw the memories flash through her mind: their secret meetings in the courtyard, the time he'd nervously asked her to the Yule Ball and she said yes, the first time he kissed her and she felt her cheeks flush a brilliant red. But those memories had been replaced long ago by the more recent ones: how she'd been tricked into telling Umbridge about Dumbledore's Army, how he'd turned away from her like everybody else, how he never came after her even when he promised he would. These thoughts hit Marietta like a freight train, and did her best to ignore them, swiping away at the plants in her path. There was no reason to still believe in him, and she was determined to keep it that way, despite that she could never truly acknowledge it.
A droplet of water fell on her cheek, and Marietta looked up. Every bit of blue above her had faded to a monochromatic gray. A low rumble echoed in her ears, the only warning before the clouds suddenly opened and began to downpour. Within minutes, she was completely soaked through, the trees providing very little protection against the harsh elements. Mumbling a few curses under her breath, Marietta put her hand above her eyes, looking for something, anything that could be shelter. There was no turning back at this point.
"Come on, Vanessa, Veronica, where are you?" she muttered to nobody in particular. The thunder rolled above her and she saw a flash of lightning illuminate the sky. Even though Marietta could Apparate, it was far too dangerous in this weather, and she'd made a promise to Henry. But as the rainwater poured down her cheeks like an icy river, turning her skin cold, she felt the fear slowly creeping through her body. Shivering, she looked around some more, but her visibility had decreased exponentially. Just when Marietta was beginning to feel hopeless, she saw it.
There was a light.
She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision. It was still there. There was no way of knowing whether or not it was a trick of the mind, but it was her only chance. With any luck, it was a building of some sort where she could wait out the storm until the next morning. Perhaps Vanessa and Veronica had found their way to safety as well.
Gathering the remainder of her strength, Marietta forced her way through the trees towards the source. The rain was pelting her in the face now, but she didn't care. Living in the countryside, away from the city, she'd learned to handle the rough weather. As she trudged on, his face once again popped up in her mind. There would be no dying out here in the forest for her.
Marietta didn't know how long she fought the storm and the woods, though it seemed like quite some time before she reached a tiny hut in the forest. Light poured through each of the windows, and she knocked sharply at the door.
"Hello?" she called. "Is anyone there?"
When she received no answer, her heart fell slightly. It was, after all, rather windy out, and the likelihood that anyone could possibly hear her was minimal. Out of desperation, she tried the door handle, and much to her surprise, it was unlocked. Marietta considered it for a moment. Entering alone into a strange house wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do. On the one hand, she could risk it, and hope for the best. On the other hand, there was the possibility that whoever lived here did not welcome any visitors. Making her choice, she took a deep breath, crossed her fingers behind her back, and swung the door open.
Marietta was immediately met with a blast of warm air, and closed the door behind her to keep the heat inside. She had walked into a small entry room with a roaring fireplace. Much to her surprise, she found a hen, a rooster, and a calf sitting by the fire, curled up on a soft blanket. Her eyes traveled from the animals to the small wooden table, where an old man sat by himself, drinking a cup of steaming tea. He had bright, sparkling eyes and a long gray beard, but he seemed rather frail, older than Dumbledore had been. A small smile reached his face.
"Hello," he said. "Quite a storm out there, isn't it?"
Marietta then realized how awful she must have looked with her soggy clothes and dripping hair slapped across her face. She nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm so sorry to interrupt you here, but I—"
"Nonsense," the old man interrupted kindly, waving a bony hand as if to dismiss her apology. "I'm glad you are safe here instead of out in that downpour. You are very welcome to stay here and wait until it is light out again."
A wave of relief washed over Marietta, and she found herself smiling gratefully. "Thank you so much," she replied.
His face was peaceful as he drank the rest of his tea. "I do, however, have one request," he said.
"Anything."
"Well, as you can see, I'm quite old and tired. I was wondering if you could possibly make something to eat."
Marietta's grin grew wider. "Cooking is my specialty, sir. I'd be more than happy to help."
"Excellent," he responded. "But please…don't forget the animals. They are hungry too."
She nodded again. "Of course."
The old man sighed happily and leaned back in his chair. "I knew I could count on you."
A small chuckle escaped her lips as Marietta went to the kitchens, opening the cabinets and looking for something she could make. She quickly found a box of spaghetti and a large bowl, along with some fresh tomatoes on the counter. While she was waiting for the water to boil, she looked around the kitchen for something to feed the animals with, but found nothing. Her bright eyes caught a lantern by the back door, and peering through the stormy window, she saw a barn that had been erected several feet away from the cottage. She groaned softly to herself, not wanting to go out into the storm again, but she did make a promise after all. Gripping the lantern in one hand, she dashed out the back door and into the barn, spotting a bag of feed quickly and shoving it under her free arm. When she returned into the kitchen, she was even more soaking wet than before, but satisfied, and proceeded to haul it into the front room.
The man's expression was happy when she returned. "Thank you," he said gratefully as he watched Marietta pour equal amounts into the animals' empty bowls. She nodded in return as she set the bag down to fill their water bowls as well.
"It's the least I can do," she replied. "You were kind enough to take me in for the night."
To her surprise, he laughed. It was gentle, amused. "Weary travelers often come about, and I am more than happy to provide accommodations, but not all of them are as polite or as pretty as you."
Marietta failed at hiding a blush, so she scurried back into the kitchen and poured the spaghetti in the pot, cutting up the tomatoes to throw over the top. Pretty? It had been years and years since she had been called that, let alone felt it, and she wondered whether or not the old man had actually been sincere. She sighed deeply as she drained the spaghetti and poured half of it into a separate bowl, adding the diced tomatoes. Once she spent the night away from the storm, it would be better off if she left the hut and forgot completely about it. Otherwise, she might be reminded too much of her past.
"Here you are," Marietta said with a somewhat forced smile as she placed the bowl in front of the old man.
"It smells delicious," he replied. "However, I still do not know your name, so I cannot thank you properly."
She sat across from him at the table. "Marietta."
For an instant, Marietta thought she saw something flicker in the old man's light eyes, though what it was, she did not know. He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Ah, yes. Such a lovely name."
"Thank you, sir," she began to respond, but he shook his head, still smiling.
"You do not have to call me 'sir'," he said, twirling the spaghetti with his fork. "You are quite welcome to call me Anthony, if you wish."
Marietta nearly toppled out of her chair at his statement, her eyes growing wide. Her head buzzed with curiosity and confusion, memories of her past swirling in front of her eyes. For six years, she'd struggled to push that name out of her head, and just as she had almost succeeded, it smacked her in the face yet again. The last attachment she had to the magical world had been thrust in front of her. She knew all too well now that she had been wrong about before. Once she left the hut, it would be impossible to forget.
Anthony…
"Marietta?" came the old man's voice. "Are you quite all right?"
The young witch blinked a few times, his voice snapping her back to reality. "Oh…yes," she lied. When he tilted his head to the side, as though in disbelief, she took a deep breath and continued. "It's just…I knew someone by the name of Anthony once. He was…rather important to me."
"I see," the man said, carefully chewing the spaghetti. "He may come around again, you never know."
Marietta couldn't help but give him a small grin for his optimism. "That's very kind of you to say, but we have a troubled past. I doubt we will cross paths again."
His eyes twinkled. "I suppose you'll just have to wait and see."
"I suppose so."
As the man ate, Marietta let the silence of the room be filled by the crackling fire and the softly snoring calf. It was quite bizarre, she thought, and rather ironic too, how she'd almost reached the breaking point of her split from the magical world. Yet here she was, sitting across the table from a man who, despite the obvious age difference, reminded her so much of the one thing she still could not let go of. It was interesting, to say the least, but frustrating at the same time. Why had this come up now, of all the times it could have? She scowled slightly at the thought of Vanessa and Veronica. Marietta knew full well that she alone deserved the blame, but it felt nice to pin it on the twins for a few moments. Hopefully by reattempting the search tomorrow, she would find the girls and forget all about this…forget all about him.
Marietta hadn't realized that she'd been staring at the old man until he'd finished eating and chuckled, bringing her to focus again. The flush crept to her cheeks again and she stammered embarrassedly.
"I—I…" she said, struggling for words. "I'm terribly sorry, I just—"
"Is there something you'd like to say?" He gently interrupted her, and she grew quiet, fidgeting in her seat.
"I don't know," Marietta replied softly. "I feel like I remember you from somewhere. There's something…familiar about you. Maybe it's that you remind me of my past, or maybe I've met you and can't remember. But I just feel like there's something."
He gave her a pleasant expression again, and she found herself feeling calmer. "I have a feeling, Marietta, that you'll figure it out sooner than you think. However, you'll certainly need a good night's sleep first. You can find a bed in a small room past the kitchen, and do feel free to help yourself if you're hungry."
It was as though he'd read her mind; Marietta was beginning to feel drowsy, and she felt her stomach growl, having not eaten since before she left for the forest. She thanked him yet again for allowing her to wait out the storm and left the room in a slight daze, not hearing him say "Good night, my dear," as she left the room. Pouring the remainder of the spaghetti into her own bowl, she found the door he was talking about and pushed past it, revealing a very tiny room that consisted of one bed and a wooden bureau. She ate the spaghetti thoughtfully, listening to the rain pound the walls of the hut. After weighing the options in her mind, she decided to leave immediately the next morning, before he had time to realize she was gone. This would save her from any last reminders of what happened so many years ago, and if she knew one thing for certain, it was that she couldn't bear to look in those bright eyes again.
With her mind and stomach completely full, Marietta set the bowl down on the dresser and climbed into the bed, knowing that there was yet another restless night's sleep ahead of her.
There were two things Marietta noticed when she woke up the next morning.
The first was that she realized she'd slept soundly for the first time in ages, with no dreams of the past haunting her unconscious form. The second was that her surroundings had completely and utterly changed.
Marietta blinked a few times to clear her head, but she wasn't imagining what she saw. The tiny bedroom she had fallen asleep in had expanded to at least triple its original size; the walls were white painted stone instead of dark wood. There was a crystal chandelier above her bed, and she was bathed in soft powder blue sheets. She tried to take in everything around her: the towering bookcase, the shiny armoire, the silk curtains fluttering in the breeze, but it was almost too much for her to handle. Throwing aside the covers, she dashed out of the room, seeking an answer to this strange occurrence. However, she stopped short when she reached the top of a marble white staircase, for she wasn't alone.
There was someone standing at the bottom, but it was not the old man. This person was much younger, most likely her age, with sandy blonde hair. He stood in crisp robes of silver and navy blue, and it seemed all too similar.
No…it couldn't be…
"Marietta!"
"…Anthony?"
The figure was running up the stairs now, a bright smile on his face. Before she could say anything, he'd picked her up by the waist and swung her around, laughing.
"Oh, Marietta, you did it! I just knew you would!"
He set her down again, beaming, but Marietta was beyond confused. "I don't believe it…" she breathed.
"Believe it," he replied, his hand reaching up to hold her face gently. "It's really me."
Marietta's eyes narrowed at his touch. This was Anthony Goldstien, her Anthony, but it didn't feel the same as it had so many years ago, when they had meant so much to each other. They had both changed immensely over the years, and she couldn't decide whether seeing him in the flesh was a dream or a nightmare. Before she could stop them, the tears spilled down her face.
"You lied to me," she nearly whispered, pulling away from his touch. "We had something, and suddenly you just didn't care…all because of a mistake that wasn't even my fault."
"No, no, that's not what happened," he replied with equal softness. "Believe me, after the incident with Umbridge, I tried to convince everyone else what happened, that you'd been given Veritaserum and you hadn't meant to betray us. But they wouldn't listen to me. I really did try, Marietta." He reached out for her again, but she turned her back.
"Then why didn't you come back for me?" She felt a hitch in her voice as she finished the question, having the answer before he could even speak. Her tone turned bitter. "It was because of my face, wasn't it? You didn't want to be seen with that ugly sneak Marietta Edgecombe."
She began to walk away, but he stopped her, clutching her wrist tightly in his hand.
"I did care about you deeply," he said. "I was petrified that you hated me, and I felt I didn't have a choice, so I let you go. I didn't think you wanted anything more to do with me, so I painfully watched you distance yourself from us and then leave Hogwarts. It broke my heart."
Marietta sniffled once and wiped away the last of her tears, turning her face back to see Anthony. His eyes were wide with sadness, sincerity, and she couldn't find a reason for it, but she wanted to hear the rest of his story. He took a deep breath before continuing.
"I had promised myself earlier that when I was finished with my seventh year, I'd come find you, no matter where you were. But dark times were upon us. Hogwarts was an absolute nightmare, and I didn't know if I'd ever make it out alive, to be honest. Because of that, I regretted having you disappear from my life. I wanted to send you a letter, but they were constantly checking our mail, so I didn't dare risk it. Things became sort of…downhill from there.
There was a battle at Hogwarts, I'm sure you heard about it. It was…completely devastating. We lost some of our dear friends, but the entire time I was fighting to survive. I had to keep my promise to myself. And after Voldemort was destroyed, we finished out the rest of the year and left Hogwarts to its rightful state. It wasn't over for me, however. This house that you're standing in belonged to my grandfather, and he left it to my parents after he died in my second year. I used to come here every summer as a child, and before I set out on my search for you, I decided to visit. We had a little bit of trouble, though. Some Death Eaters were still wandering the land and they were looking for somewhere to hide, somewhere safe from the Ministry where they could live the rest of their lives undetected. Unfortunately, three of them came here that summer.
My mother and I battled fiercely, and we managed to drive them out of the house, but not before their spells hit the potion cupboard. I'm still not even sure what happened—the house transformed around us, turning this beautiful marble into wood, and it was shrinking, simplifying…Spells ricocheted off the potions in the cabinet and changed us. My parents became the hen and rooster you saw yesterday, and the calf was my little sister. I was the old man."
He paused for a moment, letting it all sink in. Marietta allowed herself to turn around and face him fully, listening intently to his tale. It all seemed so peculiar, so strange. And yet, it made sense, for she had no reason to believe otherwise.
"I still had my own mind, my thoughts. It was as though I was a seventeen-year-old trapped in the body of somebody like Dumbledore. I still had my wand, though, and tried spell after spell, but I was unsuccessful. After tearing through every book we had, I realized that the only way to turn everything normal again was if we came across a young witch or wizard with a kind heart. I became hopeful again, and so I opened up the hut to travelers in the forest who lost their way. Most of them were Muggles, and though the occasional magic folk strolled by, none held the right amount of goodness inside them to break the spell.
I was completely astonished when you knocked on the door last night. It had been years since I'd seen you, but I still recognized you. No, not because of that—" Marietta's fingers had flown to her scars, but he took her hand carefully in his—"but because I remembered you. Because nobody in the entire world strikes my heart up the way you do. You came in, sat down, fed the entire household before yourself, contributed to pleasant conversation. And I just knew that you would be the one to make everything right again. In the past, you had always been the one to pick me up when I'd fallen, to push onward when things were bleak. I just knew that if we stayed true to the dreams of our youth, we'd find a way to heal someday."
Anthony stopped for a moment, completely out of breath, but he was determined to continue. "And now I'm going to do the thing that I've wanted to do for years."
He took her face carefully in both hands and pressed his lips to hers, just as he'd done so many years ago. It was brief, but passionate, and he felt her cheeks flush under his fingertips.
"I'm in love with you."
Marietta just smiled.
Epilogue
After Marietta had broken the spell at Anthony's, she'd packed up her few belongings and sold her cottage, moving into his large house with the rest of his family. She'd met his parents and little sister, who went by the name of Annabelle and was the sweetest six-year-old she'd ever seen. Much to her surprise, Marietta found Vanessa and Veronica locked in the basement, along with half a dozen others—"Part of the spell," Anthony had said to Marietta's raised eyebrows—and they were set free, the twins looking rather nastily at Marietta as they left. As promised, Henry had picked an enormous amount of blueberries, which resulted in three large pies. Anthony had gladly invited Henry and his daughters to the house for supper and explained what happened, avoiding the whole part about magic, so it sounded like the twins had stumbled into a hut and locked themselves in the basement by accident. Marietta couldn't stop herself from grinning the entire night.
It took them a little while to understand each other again, but once that had been accomplished, Marietta and Anthony were as happy as they'd been during their Hogwarts days. They enjoyed walking together in the garden, talking about future plans and new magic they wanted to explore, sometimes being interrupted by Annabelle, who often followed them in the bushes and whispered "Kiss her! Kiss her!" from behind the pine needles. Though the house was rather extravagant, unlike Marietta's simple style, Anthony had found a way to transform the kitchen so it was exactly like the one at her cottage, and she spent a great deal of time in there. Life was calm again, peaceful, happy.
And every morning when they awoke, Anthony never forgot to tell her she was beautiful.
