Huntress the Rewrite.
Crossroads.
Helena could feel anger soar through her system as she beat the shit out of the thung who'd attacked her as she was walking back to her home. The man had grabbed hold of her, waiting in the shadows with a knife for a suitable victim, and a window of opportunity to grab someone without the police, or a brave chauvanist pig wanting to be a hero.
No such luck for Helena, but if she'd been a different girl she would want someone to come to her rescue. It was another proof how dangerous London was.
The mugger, a short man with bandy legs, bad breath, terrible BO, with an unshaven face, unshaven face, holding the knife, would've frightened any normal person, and when he'd attacked Helena, he'd done it with an arrogance.
Then again, Helena was a witch, no matter how little she truly thought about her magical heritage. The mugger had barely had time to comprehend what had happened when one minute he had his knife, the next, it just vanished into thing air. Helena used that time to make sure he never told anyone his story, then she threw the first punch, her fist smashing into his nose, and cracking his jaw. Not letting up, she used the time to cast wandless silencing wards to stop a nosy busybody from finding out what the screams of pain were. She was still a witch, and the last thing she wanted was the chance some guy in the media or the police found out his story. Course there was the chance no one would believe him, but Helena couldn't take that chance. She would oblivate his memory when she was done. The beating was for a good reason, she wanted him to rethink his life.
Helena smirked as her fists pounded on the whimpering man's back, his cries for help muted by the fact someone had cast silencing wards around the alleyway. It was a stupid and cliche place to be robbed, Helena thought to herself.
The mugger screamed again as Helena snapped his arm.
" Please, stop!" He cried, blood mixing with his tears. He looked at her.
Helena's eyes flashed, and the mugger backed away, or tried to; Helena had a grip on his jacket. Those eyes, they seemed to go from human to cat like slits.
" Why? You could've killed me." If there was one thing she hated, it was someone who had the power to kill, only to be forced into it. Helena had a lifelong hatred of people coming to kill her when she was hopeless. Lord Voldemort had done that when she'd been a mere baby, and over the years one or two Death eaters, in the know about the truth of that night, had been ambitious enough to try and win favour with their master by trying to kill her.
No one from the Order had known - they were too busy following her brother about to worry much for her. The most serious attempt on her life had been when Helena had been six, her parents had dragged her away from the family library to see a Quidditch match, and they wanted the whole family to be seen in public. Her parents were not aware of course, in that time, Helena had been attacked by a Death eater.
The attempt failed, but it had the unfortunate consequence of hardening her heart against the world, and making her lose her innocence. It had surprised her at the time her parents were apathetic, and Dumbledore never picked up on it. In time she realised it never mattered, her parents and the old wizard could witness a child being murdered in Diagon Alley, and they wouldn't lift a finger to help, not when they fawned over their favoured child.
Helena narrowed her eyes, considering this man's fate. She was tempted to grab him, take him to the highest point in the area, and drop him from a great height to kill him. It was a dilemma, she hadn't wanted to set out and make a home for herself in the muggle world, only for the violence she'd left behind to follow her.
Her choice was simple, she could leave this man, oblivate his memory of the whole event, put in a memory of him getting into a bar fight, or something like that. Doubtful the police would pay much attention.
She preferred that option. It was less messy, and she really didn't want to kill someone.
The other alternative was to simply suffocate the man, remove all traces of her presence, and just leave. How did she remove the CCTV footage of her being dragged into this alley way though? Only problem.
Helena decided to be merciful. Stunning the mugger, she started wiping his memories, rewritting them, leaving him think he'd tried to mug someone, and his victim had overpowered him enough to leave him unconscious. Aside from a subtle difference where magic was involved, the memories were accurate.
She had no way of knowing she was making a mistake, one that would haunt her...
A few days later Helena was walking down the streets of London, always at night. During the day, like Vampires and werewolves, you only saw the positive things during the daytime of a city. Children milling about shops, shoppers and workers going about their daily lives.
Helena preferred her explorations at night. There was simply nothing for her to see during the day, she'd seen it too many times before. At night you got to see the nocturnal elements walking around, the scum of the earth.
But they were survivors.
Helena kept her arms loose with her fists clenched, ready to punch or render someone hurt if they attacked her, head cocked to and fro as she kept her eyes peeled for any sudden threats. Like a predator, she refused to think of herself as mere prey, Helena had no intention of letting her guard down. Heading home after a long night walking around, doing nothing, just exploring, keeping away from the drunken mobs and the police who herded them away like cattle, Helena was just about to relax when -
Then she heard a scream. Then another. It sounded like a little kid's scream.
Helena swung round, turning in the possible directions of the scream when she heard it again. She ran without thought, rushing down an alleyway where she found the source of the scream. The scene filled her with horror. She could scarcely believe it. It was a little kid alright, a girl aged five by the look of it, with her father lying on the ground, clutching his chest, trying to curl himself into a protective ball or to stand up and fight, but Helena could see even in the dim light the blood spilling out, soaking the muck of the alleyway floor. His breaths were coming out in short gasps.
He was dying.
The mother, Helena focused on next, was no better. She wasn't hurt, but she was torn between rushing to her husband and protecting their daughter. Helena heard the sounds of police cars in the distance, but she knew they would be too late. She had to work fast.
To the mother, the scene had happened so fast after a wonderful night at a restaurant followed by watching a movie at the cinema. Then her husband and her had been grabbed, pulling Cathy in with them. Now Dan was bleeding on the ground, and she was trying to appear brave, but her fear was leaking out of her.
Then a shadow moved so fast, grabbed the mugger, and with the sound of a punch and a cry of pain from the already bruised face, before the shadow took the mugger up high, to the rooftops like Spider- man.
Cathy rushed to her daddy, crying over him. They could hear the police coming, but the mother reached for her mobile phone and dialled in the number, and get an ambulance on the way in no time. She was surprised to find it was already coming, so she was okay.
The mother looked up into the rooftops...wondering what the hell was happening.
Thud!
Something had landed with a crash, making the already tense ladies scream with fright.
It was the mugger.
His neck was broken. He was dead.
Helena had to get away, but she couldn't. After beating the mugger, she felt she had the obligation to stay and make sure the family were well treated whilst staying out of sight, but she watched as the ambulance she'd called in she was able get away.
The mugger...It was the same one she'd met and let go only a few nights ago. Tears for the family she'd seen being attacked, the father who might even die for defending his family, leaked down her cheeks. It was all her fault. Her stupid fault. She'd dealt with the mugger, or thought so, but she hadn't bothered to render him neutralised.
The result, a possible death. What would happen to the family if their father and husband died? Did he have siblings, brothers, sisters? If so does he get along with them better than she got along with hers?
She could've followed through with her instinct, she should've done, and now an innocent man could die.
It was a few nights later that the numb Helena realised she could do something, not to help the family, although she would send them some money to help them through, the story of their attack had already made it into the media, and all she had to do was help them secretly. After her misaction, it was the least she could do.
She'd trained herself to be a fighter, she could do what the police could not.
She could find them, find the scum, make them pay for any misdemeanour. But it would take time, she would need to prepare, but she would be ready for them.
She only hoped they were ready for her.