Masquerade

by sistersgrimmlover

Bella Potter was happy. Until she wasn't. Bella Potter had it all. Until she didn't. Until all she had left was power that she did not want, a fate that she could not give away, a torn soul, and a millenia-old war. Bella Potter had it all. Except a way to escape fate. SEQUEL TO Inside My Mind

26. Chapter XXV

Title: Masquerade

Pairings: TMR/FemHP, DM/LL, HG/BZ, SB/OC, RL/NT, NL/DG, dubious TN/OC, AG/OC

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the quotes. I also kind of took the quote idea from another story. I don't own the language Druhir. I also don't own the Ancient Language from Eragon nor do I own the language of Quenya from Lord of the Rings. I just need them for my story to work and I don't fancy making up a language. I'm dedicated but not that dedicated.

Most of this language will not be mine and will be taken from various sources. The list goes on and on so I will not list them but as previously stated and now reiterated, the Elvish language is not mine. See…that rhymed.

Masquerade

By: Sistersgrimmlover

Chapter XXV

Platform 9¾, King's Cross, London, England, Great Britain

Wednesday the 1st of September 1999

9:55 AM

September 1st, 1999.

Ariana thought she was a good person. She thought there was good in everyone, except for those inherently evil like Gellert Grindelwald—and maybe, just maybe, her Godmother, though she was holding out on that one.

Anyway, she had thought there was good in nearly everyone.

But, here she was, first day of her seventh and final year of schooling.

She looked around at all of the kids around her and she knew that they must have been innocent at one point like every kid, but all she could hear were the insults.

Freak.

Slut.

Stuck-up.

Dyke.

Whore.

Ariana rolled her eyes, and she grunted as someone elbowed past her. "Ugh!" she cried out. The enormous fourth year, glowered at her, and Ariana remembered something from Bella about keeping her head down. "Sorry!"

She thought about Bella who had told her to keep her head down. She glowered to herself as she thought about her untrustworthy Godmother. She sighed, shaking her head.

Welcome to Hogwarts, she sighed.

She was already counting the days down until graduation. Ariana didn't know what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, but she couldn't wait to get there. It would be paradise if she wasn't dead by June. It looked like she'd be dead soon enough.

Thanks to her Godmother.

Ariana tried not to groan again. She was being morbid again, something she had picked up from that no-good woman. She shook thoughts of Bella out of her head. She knew that life could be beautiful. Bella had taught her that too. She prayed for a better way. Everything could be absolutely beautiful.

Ariana boarded the Hogwarts Express and nearly tripped over a third year that had been knocked over by a few fifth years.

"Are you okay?" Ariana asked.

"Get away, weirdo!" the third year shouted. Ariana rolled her eyes.

She stalked forward. In times like this, she missed Durmstrang, which was something she'd never thought she'd wish for. Durmstrang was hostile, but at least it wasn't a petty kind of hostile. These kids weren't feuding because the outside war. They were feuding over stupid shit that didn't matter.

"Get out of the way, Hufflepuff!"

Ariana was pushed out of the way roughly as she watched the annoying Slytherin dart down the long hall towards his compartment.

Harper. Seventh year Slytherin. Giant dickhead.

"What did you say, bitch?" Harper barked before he could step into his compartment.

Ariana jumped. Shit, she had said that out loud.

"Ah! Nothing!" she shouted, ducking her head. She scampered down the compartment, and looked into one of the first. She looked out for Ruby. She spotted the girl in the compartment directly adjacent and she grinned, sliding open the door. "Hey, Ruby! Brina! Astoria!"

"Hi," Astoria said with a small smile. She leaned back into her seat, tucking her legs beneath her as she scanned the massive book in her lap. Ariana shook her head as she looked at her bookworm friend. Sometimes, Ariana thought that Astoria would've done well in Ravenclaw.

"Hey! Excited to get back?" Ruby asked, pushing a few locks of hair behind her ear. She was leaning into Sabrina, a sweet Ravenclaw that Ariana was friendly with, but was really Ruby's friend more than hers.

"Eh, not really. I'm a little exhausted. I had an…eventful summer," Ariana said, slowly.

Sabrina sat up. "What did you do?"

"Uh I had a few duelling lessons and a few dates with Gideon Weasley early in the summer, which didn't really go too well, though I've learned that I do have a thing for all redheads," Ariana said.

"How do you know that?"

"Accidentally made out with his brother Fred Weasley. Or maybe George. Then, fucked them both," Ariana said, shortly. "Gideon is still a virgin. Wasn't feeling it."

Astoria snorted. "Are you serious?"

"No," Ariana deadpanned. Ruby and Sabrina exchanged looks before cackling. Astoria cracked a wide smile. Ariana leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "Or am I lying? Who will ever know?"

Ruby opened her mouth to respond when there was knock on the glass. The four girls looked up to see Alex Cross, the seventh year Ravenclaw prefect, standing there, miming like he was giving someone a blowjob. He pointed to Ruby.

Ruby looked away, embarrassed. Ariana jumped up, pulling her wand out, and her eyes narrowed.

"Hey! Stop that!" she snarled, pushing open the compartment door.

"I'm sorry. Are you actually talking to me?" Cross asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I am. You're a has-been waiting to happen. A future mindless bedpan cleaner at St. Mungo's," Ariana spat. She looked around. People were peeking out of their compartments to see what the commotion was.

Cross' eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "I can see your roots."

Ariana hissed as the corridor jeered. She stepped back into the compartment, slamming the door shut.

"I'm sorry that happened," Ruby whispered.

"Don't apologize for that creep," Astoria snarled. Ruby looked at her in surprise, but Astoria continued to sneer at the door.

"He tricked you into thinking he was a nice guy. Fuck him," Ariana said, leaning out to look out of the window. Her eyes widened as she saw the three of them strut down the hallway.

They had ignored her for the rest of the summer after they had spoken at pub—or Ariana had ignored them in a fit of rage. She wasn't sure why.

Dominique Delacour came first, dressed in her customized Hogwarts uniform. It was all blue, as dark as her eyes. The skirt barely went past her ass, and her long legs were encased in white nylon. She tossed her long red hair and Ariana could swear she saw some of the boys swoon. Ariana couldn't believe that the girl wasn't even part Veela.

Dominique Delacour, the reserve Ravenclaw Seeker—probably the new official Seeker, if she had anything to say about it.

Then came Heather Sutter. The pureblood daughter of one of the leading members of the Light Denomination in the Wizengamot courts, tossed her long blonde hair. She was a Slytherin, through and through, though, but was quite open about the fact that she was Light. Nobody questioned her about it. Her poisonous green uniform was tucked into every curve.

Heather Sutter, leader of almost every club.

And then there was Romilda Vane in bright Gryffindor red, her golden tie flashing. On her lapel of her blazer was a golden lion rearing its paws. Her inky black curls bounced perfectly.

Romilda Vane, the almighty. The mythic bitch.

"They are never bothered. Never harassed. I'd give anything to be like that," Ariana said, honestly. Ruby and Sabrina hummed in agreement and Ariana turned, pressing her back to the compartment as Romilda's eyes darted towards her.

Romilda winked at her and continued down the corridor. Two girls, clearly first years trailed past her. They cast curious looks into the room. They were beautiful, both looking almost exactly like Romilda. Romilda glanced over her shoulder and said something, her face gentle Ariana was surprised by that. She hadn't thought Romilda was capable of gentleness.

"I'd like them to be nicer, though," Ruby said, gently.

"That would be beautiful," Sabrina agreed.

"Yeah, like that's going to happen," Astoria snorted.

They moved on from the three queens of Hogwarts, talking about their respective summers as Astoria tucked into her book again, half-listening and dropping sardonic little comments that surprised tiny little guffaws from Ruby and Sabrina. Ariana smiled as she saw her two very different friends merging. Ruby had questioned her friendship with Astoria before, but Ariana hoped that she could see how funny the girl was, in her own way.

Ariana snorted. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Ariana tripped out of her seat, realizing that Sabrina, Ruby, and Astoria weren't paying attention to her in the least. Ruby hadn't even seemed to realize that Ariana wasn't listening to her long convoluted story about the beach. Ariana smiled, looking down at her endearing friend as she exited the compartment and walked down the hallway. She couldn't help but glance in the compartments, searching for the three girls. Ariana frowned when she saw a nearly empty compartment, with only the two girls that had followed Romilda, sitting patiently. They waved at her and Ariana nodded before she continued down the hallway.

As she pushed the lavatory door open, she paused as she looked at the girls whispering. They looked up, glares on their faces, ready to attack anyone. Romilda's face softened and a sly smile crossed her face as she saw Ariana.

"Look who it is, girls. Our own little revolutionary," Romilda purred.

Ariana flushed as she remembered the night in the bar. Heather smirked and crossed her arms.

"I thought you weren't throwing away your shot," Heather said.

"I'm not," Ariana said sharply.

Dominique raised an eyebrow. "But, zen you ignored us. Why did you ignore us? You like us, oui?"

"Yes. Of course I do," Ariana said insistently as she saw the look of actual hurt on Dominique's face. Ariana looked over at Heather and saw that she also looked a little hurt. "I like you all a lot. I want to be friends."

Romilda slowly circled Ariana, staring at her. Ariana leaned forward in anticipation. Romilda hummed.

"For a greasy little nobody, you've got good bone structure," Romilda said, sharply. "You just have to fix those roots."

Dominique nodded, slowly. She leaned forward. "And a symmetrical face. If I took a Cutting Curse to your face to split your face in 'alf, I'd 'ave two perfect 'alves."

Ariana winced. "Uh, thanks."

"Though, she could stand to lose some pounds," Heather said, sharply.

Ariana's lips curled at that insult. She thought she was an excellent weight, and if she was anywhere near unhealthy, Bella would've said something. Ariana internally winced again when she thought of the woman. She shook her head, staying in the moment. The three girls demanded most of her attention. They would distract her from the errant thoughts of her Godmother being fucking Lady Nikolai.

"You know…this could be beautiful," Romilda said, slowly. "Mascara, lipstick, and we're on our way. She needs some blush, and Heather, I need your brush."

The beautiful young woman nodded, and slid the brush over.

"She's not a dumbass either. She knew what she was talking about at the pub…hmm, okay. Let's make her beautiful," Romilda decided. She looked at Ariana. "Okay?"

"Okay!"

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Wednesday the 1st of September 1999

7:20 PM

"Out of my way, egghead!"

"Move it, loser!"

"Ugh, perv!"

"I didn't do that on purpose!"

Ariana flushed, waiting to go in. Romilda had already explained to her that they would make an entrance. Romilda pinched her, and Ariana made herself go pale again. Romilda nodded at the two other girls and Dominique glided into the Great Hall first. Ariana could hear the Great Hall falling into a quiet hush. Heather walked in next, sashaying and tossing her long blonde hair. Romilda squeezed Ariana's arm. Hard.

"Don't screw this up, fresh meat," Romilda instructed, harshly.

She tossed her hair, and bounced into the Great Hall looking like a model.

Ariana tugged on her long pink and white-blonde locks. She straightened her yellow uniform. She felt someone stand next to her. Ariana looked up at Tom Riddle, and she flinched as she looked at her former mentor.

"You've fallen in with a new crowd," he said, quietly.

"Yeah. What's it to you?" Ariana asked, hostilely.

Professor Riddle frowned. "Ariana…she kept it from you to protect you from her constituents."

"Yeah, whatever. Voldemort," she snarled.

Tom's lips curled into a smirk. "You won't say anything. I'm not worried about that. You love her more than you're hurt. Now go in there and protect yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you far too well. You far too much like my wife. More like her than you think…" Tom trailed off.

Ariana frowned, and tossed her hair. She practically ran into the Great Hall. She felt all eyes fall on her, and she stood there awkwardly. The rest of the girls stood at the head of their House tables. Ariana scrambled to the Hufflepuff table and she put her hands on her hips, looking over at all of the Hufflepuffs.

"Ariana?" Ruby whispered into the quiet.

"Ariana?"

"Whoa, she's a babe."

"She's gorgeous."

"Look at her hair!"

Ariana looked around with a smug smile on her face. She glanced at Romilda, and Romilda stared back at her with eyes narrowed in approval. Ariana lifted her chin and grinned. She ignored the look Astoria cast.

Ariana flicked her wrist as she approached the end of the table. The students at the end of table practically fell over themselves to allow her a seat next to Ruby. Ruby cast her a look, but Ariana ignored it and fell into her seat. She inspected her nails as she rolled her eyes to look up at Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster looked down at her, confused and dumbfounded behind the blue twinkle in his eye. The other teachers looked just as benevolent and curious. Ariana smirked and bit her lower lip to keep from squealing in excitement.

It'd been a while since she was so happy.

It was going to be a fucking beautiful year.

Ariana leaned back and watched as Professor Riddle led the first years in. She could see the twin girls, Romilda's sisters, following at the end of the line, their pinkie fingers linked. Their expressions were impenetrable, much like Romilda's. It was disconcerting. Ariana couldn't take her eyes off of them as Riddle began to call out the names of the first years. There were so few of them, maybe only thirty-five.

"There aren't that many first-years," Ariana said quietly.

Ruby hummed. "Because people are running or sending them to foreign schools like Beauxbatons or even Salem. There's a war going on here, even if people want to pretend there isn't."

"Vane, Cyneburga."

Ariana looked up sharply and looked over at Romilda. Romilda was leaning forward, staring intently. Cyneburga looked shaken as she released her twin and moved towards the stool. She tried to control her expression but Ariana caught the flash of fear. Romilda looked over at Ariana and nodded slowly. Ariana frowned in confusion.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Ariana whispered to herself.

Romilda didn't look away.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Cyneburga jumped up, ripping off the Sorting Hat, and Ariana clapped loudly with the rest of Hufflepuff. Cyneburga froze and looked over at Romilda. Romilda stood and pointed at Ariana, a serious look in her eyes. Cyneburga nodded and moved towards Ariana, a shy look on her face.

Ariana looked at Romilda in alarm.

"Take care of her," Romilda mouthed.

Ariana nodded once and pasted on a smile. "Hi, Cyneburga," Ariana said quietly. "Welcome to Hufflepuff."

"Thank you," Cyneburga whispered as she slid into her seat across from Ariana.

"Vane, Godiva," Riddle called.

Godiva had the Hat on her head for only a second before it roared, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Oh, no," Cyneburga groaned.

Godiva took off the Hat and flounced towards the Gryffindor table, revelling in the applause. As she sat down, Professor Riddle waved his wand, Banishing the stool and Sorting Hat back to Dumbledore's office before settling in his own seat. Dumbledore rose and looked over the students, who waited impatiently for the feast's arrival.

"Welcome, students, to another year of learning! I have many words, and so little time, as you all look quite ravenous from your long journey. I will save my words of rules and regulations and precaution for after dinner before you get the idea of eating your professors! Tuck in!" Dumbledore called and Cyneburga stared at him, an odd look on her face.

Ariana smirked. "He's a bit mad, isn't he?" she asked.

"I think more than a bit," Cyneburga giggled and she grinned wider when the food appeared before them. Ariana watched in surprise as the little girl began to shovel surprising amounts of food onto her plate.

Even as everyone tucked in, Romilda and her sister walked towards the Hufflepuff table. Cyneburga reached out for Godiva immediately and they linked pinkies again.

"Hey. You alright there, Cyn?" Romilda asked gently.

Cyneburga frowned. "I just...I knew Godiva was going to be a Gryffindor. I wanted to be one too."

"There's nothing wrong with being a 'Puff, Cyn. Grandma was one. You remember?" Romilda asked quietly and Cyneburga nodded slowly. Godiva smiled down at her twin and reached forward to ruffle her hair.

"Mum and Dad won't mind. They won't care, even. I promise," Godiva said honestly and Romilda nodded gently.

"Hey, Ariana, can I talk to you?" Romilda asked and Ariana nodded, standing up. Romilda pulled her aside roughly, smiling at her sisters even as she handled Ariana roughly, yanking her closer to the doors to the Entrance Hall.

"Gods, that was super unnecessary. Is that what this friendship is going to be, you pushing me around?" Ariana asked and Romilda frowned at her.

She crossed her arms, staring at the girl. "You...we're not friends yet."

"Wait, what?" Ariana asked.

"Dom wanted to be your friend. And Heather. So, I said, why not? You're...interesting. But, I don't trust you. But, you could gain my trust. By watching out for Cyneburga," Romilda said, her voice hard as she looked Ariana over. Ariana opened her mouth to retort but Romilda silenced her with a look. "Cyneburga is soft. So, watch out for her, and then, we'll be friends. Got it?"

"Yeah," Ariana murmured, her eyes soft and a smile spreading across her face. "I got it."

---

Ministry of Magic, London, England, Great Britain

Wednesday the 1st of September 1999

2:30 PM

Fay walked swiftly towards the lift, her only goal—delivering Madame Bones' missives to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She slicked one of her flyaways down as she charged past a group of meandering hopefuls for the Auror Office, no doubt, and slid into the lift as it was closing. Fay smirked, satisfied with her manoeuvring.

"Nice moves...Dunbar, isn't it?"

Fay looked up sharply, wide-eyed. She nodded, swiftly, and her lower lip quivered just for a moment before she steeled herself. "Yes. You are...Auror Mitchell's wife, yes?"

"Cassandra Mitchell, at your service. I work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. You're Spencer's little protégé. He talks about you all the time," Cassandra said with a wide grin. Fay looked at her with a little surprise and she couldn't help her next time question despite all of her training.

"He talks about me?"

"Of course. You were his star pupil in the Academy, and now you're Madame Bones' assistant. He suspects that she's already grooming you in her image. Well, it's nice to finally put a true face to the name. He mentioned what you looked like and I've caught glimpses of you but never had the opportunity to say hello. Nice to meet you," Cassandra said and Fay stared at this woman, utterly unable to imagine what Spencer saw in this babbling mess of a woman.

She was still talking even as Fay sized her up—about something inconsequential like whatever her job was—and she was so unlike Spencer, unlike Fay, that Fay couldn't understand it. Cassandra was short with wide hips and a button nose. Childish freckles dusted her cheek. Her robes were unpractical, worn for fashion rather than for combat or movement and those hazel eyes spoke of innocence despite there being, perhaps, shrewdness.

"And he hasn't been back in ages from his terrible mission. He's usually stationed at that horrid place—you know the one. Have you been to Azkaban yet, Fay—may I call you Fay?—well it's absolutely dreadful. Horrible place. I went once with Spencer and I left after twenty minutes. Those dementors are terrible creatures and my Patronus isn't all that strong. Could you perhaps see when he'll be coming back? I mean, they don't usually send Aurors out on missions. I know that, for a fact, but my Spencer is just so good at his job...anyway, could you see when he'll be coming back?" Cassandra asked and Fay blinked hard, attempting to sort through the jumble of words that had hit her abruptly.

Fay almost frowned, but she controlled herself. She knew where Spencer was. She knew what Spencer was. A hitwizard. It seemed that Cassandra did not, and Fay was not surprised about that. She knew that Madame Bones herself had sent Spencer after a speculated Death Eater, and he was most likely already dead. So, if he wasn't back, that meant Spencer was off doing something for the Dark Lord under the guise of hunting a long dead man.

"I can...I can check," Fay confirmed.

Cassandra was upon her in an instant, wrapping her arms around her in a warm hug. Fay stiffened, disgust and rage curdling inside her as Cassandra squeezed before releasing her. Fay felt bile rising in her throat as she looked down at Cassandra's bright smile.

"Thanks so much, Fay!" she said and as the lift stopped—finally—Fay slid out as fast as possible, not even to check if she was on the right level.

As soon as Fay exited, she let out a sigh of relief. As she walked down the hallway towards the offices of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, she was already composing a letter in mind.

To The Dark Lord,

I would never contact you. I never had the need to, but I have a request, my Lord, and I do not believe you would deny this of me. Your man, Spencer Mitchell, is—

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Friday the 3rd of September 1999

11:45 AM

Albus Dumbledore felt the magic raging. It boiled and toiled, barely contained in the girl that had become a woman when his eyes had been turned the other way for just a moment. He was not shocked when his office's wards were shredded and the door swung open. She stood there and he did not see the rage contorting her pretty face. He did not hear her spitting curses as she might've done when she was a child.

He could only see cold fury and wildness in her poison green eyes. It was a stark difference from the girl he had known. It saddened him. He remembered a little girl with wild black hair and big green eyes in a round pale face. He remembered the Sorting Hat declaring to the world GRYFFINDOR.

Albus wasn't sure if this woman remembered that little girl anymore.

"My dear woman," Albus said, a small smile twisting his face.

She shook her head, her red lips curling back into a sneer. "How dare you?" she said. Her voice trembled, and she took a dangerous step forward, her black patent heel clicking.

"What?" Albus asked, drawing back.

"How dare you?" she snarled. "He devoted his life to these children. He is not with the Order because he believes in it or you. He is tied to you because of these children that he teaches. This is his home. How dare you doubt him in his home?"

Albus' worries of human Horcruxes and curses and accusations dissipated.

"It is not only he that I doubt," Albus said, mournfully.

In truth, he mourned the leader that Bella should have been. He mourned that he had lost her to the darkness and the pureblood culture. If he had placed her with Petunia, perhaps, she would've seen the innate Light that people held but…this was no place for regrets. Doubts, maybe, but not regrets.

"It's me? After all that I've sacrificed, year after year. After all that I've given, is it not enough, Albus? After all that you've taken of me, is it not enough? Will it never be enough?" she asked, her voice even, the trembling gone.

She had come to defend her husband originally. That was where her vulnerability was. Albus cursed himself silently for making it about her. Bella had always been strong in defending her own interests. He had seen that time and again.

"Bella, you are the Girl Who Lived. Of course it isn't enough," he said, honestly. "I have also given my life to the cause of defending the Light. We all must make sacrifices."

"You ask me to lie upon an altar like a calf fit to be slaughtered in the name of a nameless God. I would not do that, Albus. Not for you. Not for my husband. Not even for my siblings. I would not reduce myself to mere cattle," Bella said, her cold fury restrained again, and Albus wondered how he had always missed the fury in her eyes. It had always been there, but now in this face, distorted beauty that it was, he could see it clearly.

"We all must do what we must for the war. I do not want to isolate you from the Order, but you serve your own agenda. You have told me as much once before when you told me that you knew you were Gellert's Horcrux," Albus reminded her gently. He was not one to poke the beast.

Bella paused and she stared at him, but did not truly look. She closed her eyes and a smile crossed her face. It was a smile in all but feeling. "It was only last year, wasn't it? A year feels like an eternity, Albus. Is this what it is to grow old?"

"You're barely 19, Bella. Not even twenty yet."

"I feel centuries old. Almost as if, I've lived too long already," Bella whispered. She opened her eyes and looked at him with intent. "My curse…I would take it back if I could. But, what's done is done."

"Do you know the consequences?" Albus asked.

Bella sighed and her smile slipped away. "Yes. I am a fool. But, I am not a fool that makes the same mistakes twice. Not anymore. Albus, you will live, if that's what you're worried about."

"No. I never was. I worry for your soul," Albus said honestly. "Dark magic fractures a soul, Bella. I'm sure you know that."

"I know. But, that wasn't Dark magic," Bella said. "What's done is done. I endeavour to keep my soul from fracturing any more than it has. Albus, you have something of mine."

"What is it, Bella?"

Bella frowned at him. "When I was a child, you sat upon my seat in my Denomination for a trial of a Necromancer. You were the Head of the Light Denomination and the Supreme Mugwump. Some took you for a powerful wizard. But, the others…those old families that know of the Old Magic saw you for something that you truly aren't. The Light Lord."

Albus reared back in shock. Bella's frowned deepened.

"I am the Light Lord, Bella," he said without explanation, simple and gentle.

"You are not," Bella said softly. "I am the descendant of Godric Gryffindor and Merlin Ambrosius. I am the Head of the Light Denomination. I am the Girl Who Lived. I am the Light Lady."

Albus wanted to laugh, but he did not. He found he could not. The laughter that bubbled in his throat caught there.

"You have used Dark magic, even Black magic. How can you say that you are the Light Lady when you have blackness on your soul?" he asked her, a challenge. His voice was hard, steel covered in silk and Bella did not react as he thought she might.

"I am touched by darkness," she acknowledged. "I have struggled with it all my life. I don't know if it's because of the circumstances of my parents' death, Gellert's Horcrux, my husband's influence, or my own stupidity. It's probably a combination of all of them. But…I do know that I have known the Dark…I have fallen into its embrace…but, in the brightest day, darkness is only a fleeting shadow."

"How do you mean?" Albus asked.

Bella stood slowly and she looked at him with such a penetrating gaze that he just might believe her words.

"I am Bella Anastasia Gryffindor Ambrosius Potter. Each of those names grants me the power of the Light. Bella for the beautiful ones. Anastasia for the resurrected ones. Gryffindor for the brave ones. Ambrosius for the immortal ones. And Potter for the ones that need someone to believe in. I do away with the darkness tied to my husband. I will not hide from my fate in fear. I am the Light in the Darkness and I will scream it for the world to hear. I am not afraid. Not anymore," she said and she stood and turned.

He asked his question her back, a stark reflection of their last confrontation in his office. "What were you afraid of, Bella Potter?"

She turned to look at him and ran a finger down her sharp, jutting cheekbones. She smiled. "My own reflection."

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Friday the 3rd of September 1999

11:25 AM

"Ugh. Classes haven't even started. They start Monday! What are we doing here? Professor!" Heather whined.

Tom rolled his eyes as he looked at the girl. She was fixing her makeup after having completed her own duel, wiping some poor Ravenclaw on the floor like she was mud. It was sixth time she had complained and she was well within her rights to leave after completing her duel. But, the Delacour girl and Sutter waited for one of the final duels—Romilda Vane and Ariana Goode.

"Sutter, please, stop your incessant whining," Tom sighed and he winced when Heather squawked at his words, before turning back to the two young women on the duelling platform

Tom watched silently. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing, slowly—so slow that it almost appeared unnatural. He stepped forward to say something when her eyes flashed open. Ariana fell into a reverence, deep and respectful and ancient-looking before him. Ariana slowly stood from her reverence.

"Let's do this," Ariana whispered, turning towards Romilda.

Tom's eyes widened as the tip of Ariana's wand burned bright and she spun, swinging the pure beam of light. Romilda's eyes widened slowly as Ariana manipulated the raw power, unrefined but doing so. She blasted it at Romilda and Romilda just nearly avoided her skin melting from her bones, though the power singer her hair and eyebrows. Ariana rolled forward and struck upward.

Romilda's chin flew back. Blood seeped from her bitten tongue.

"Fine, then," Romilda said with a bloody grin and Tom watched as she darted forward, sending her fist crashing into the side of Ariana's head.

Ariana's head snapped to the side even as she cast a Stunner. Romilda ducked beneath it and lunged for Ariana's legs. Ariana crashed into the wooden platform, letting out a gasp of pain. Romilda crawled up her body and grabbed her by the hair, slamming her head down into the platform gain. The Hufflepuff groaned at the used of brute strength, but Romilda only grinned down at her, blood dripping from her teeth onto Ariana's skin.

"Reducto," Ariana hissed and Romilda rolled off her to avoid the spell, gasping hard when Ariana threw out her hand, luckily catching Romilda across the cheekbone. Romilda spit out blood from the side of her mouth and growled.

"Furnunculus," Romilda spat.

Even as Ariana went crashing to the ground, roaring with pain, she snarled, "Conjunctivitis."

Romilda threw her head back and howled. It was a piercing sound that made Tom nearly wince. He watched as Ariana straightened, keeping her wand trained on the girl as Romilda tried to reorient herself. Suddenly, the Gryffindor stopped squirming, and sniffed and licked at the air.

"What are you going to do now, Milly? Surrender," Ariana warned as she began to circle Romilda, her voice disorienting the girl more and more.

Romilda sneered. "I may not be able to see you. But, I can still smell you."

Ariana reared back. "What?" she whispered.

Romilda sniffed low and slowly turned her wand until it was levelled at Ariana's face, right between her eyes.

"I can still smell you, Ariana. I can smell everything about you," Romilda purred. She turned her face up, as if she were gazing through her swollen eyes at the ceiling. She took another deep breath. "Oh, Ariana...you smell like the sun, girl. You smell like sunshine and power...but, the power...that rubbed off on you. That belongs to someone else."

"Stop it," Ariana whispered.

Romilda smiled. "And beneath that sunshine, something smells like rot. Are you rotting inside, Ariana?"

"Stop, Romilda," Ariana snapped.

Romilda grinned wider. "Okay. Alarte Ascendare!"

Ariana shrieked as she flew up into the air. As she began to descend again, she held up her wand, and swung it with all her might, channelling her power in it. She felt her wand begin to overheat, and smelled burning wood. Romilda threw up her wand and hissed a few words. When the beam of light hit the shield, a deep gong-like sound echoed through the room. The backlash threw both women back several feet until they were backed against the hissing wards.

Ariana cried out as her back touched the wards, burning the skin.

"Draw?" Ariana breathed out.

"Why?" Romilda laughed.

Ariana huffed. "You've proved that you can keep up. We get it. And I've used too much magic. I haven't been conducting properly with spells. And you're blind. You've used a lot of magic. You won't be able to always smell me."

Romilda frowned. "Fine. Draw?"

"Draw."

The wards dissipated and the two were met with merry applause from the rest of class, Dominique and Heather the loudest of them.

"MES AMIES! SI BELLE!" Dominique shrieked, grinning madly. Tom rolled his eyes at the screaming girls, and turned towards the downtrodden duelists on the platform.

"You were supposed to beat her. Not draw," Tom said sharply.

Ariana's eyes narrowed. "We were equal. Professor."

She spat his title like a curse. Tom's lips curled into a smirk and he nodded. "As you say. You may go now. The results will be posted Monday morning with your new class assignments."

Ariana nodded and reached to grab Romilda's hand. Romilda squeezed tight and allowed the girl to lead her off the dueling platform. "Do you know the counter curse to this?" Romilda asked.

Ariana flushed. "Um…no."

"Are you actually joking?" Romilda hissed.

Dominique laughed. "Ah, dear Romilda, do not work yourself up. I know ze counter curse. Come sit. 'Eather, you heal Ariana and then we can go off and make merry down in ze 'Ogsmeade. I am craving ze Butterbeer."

Heather sat Ariana down and turned to face her. With the end of her wand, Heather poked a massive boil on the edge of Ariana's jaw. She roared. Heather tutted. "Gods, Romilda, this Pimple Jinx was a piece of work. It's going to need a Boil-Cure Potion. Professor?"

Tom was already looking down at his parchment of notes, rearranging the last two duels—he already knew the outcome for those. "In the cupboard, Sutter. Go on," he said without looking up.

Heather flounced away and Ariana moaned in pain as the boils began to throb. When Heather returned, she offered the potion.

"Oh, this is gonna taste horrible," Ariana groaned as she unstoppered the vial and lifted it to her lips. She lifted it to Heather and said, "Cheers," before downing it.

Her face twisted into a ugly grimace as the sludge rolled down her throat. Heather snickered at the look on her face before waving her wand, punctuated with a sharp,"Episkey."

Ariana's nose cracked back into place and she felt the residual soreness of a wound on the back of her head healing. She gasped for breath and whispered, "Thanks."

"Of course. You done over there, Dom?" Heather called.

Dominique hummed. "Oui, oui. Let us go. Au revoir, Profezzor."

"Hmmm," Tom hummed and Dominique simply beamed, linking arms with Romilda and yanking her towards the door.

Heather and Ariana linked arms following them out. Romilda didn't even look to Ariana, but she looped her free arm in Ariana's arm anyway. Ariana looked down at beamed, biting her lips.

As the four girls walked to the Entrance Hall, their arms linked, they laughed and giggled. And then, Romilda jerked to a stop, her gaze lingering on the top of the staircase. Heather, Dominique, and Ariana followed her gaze and Ariana felt rage and panic strike her heart.

The four girls stared at the woman that watched them from the top of the stairs, pain in her green eyes as she drank in the sight of her lovely beastie. Ariana turned her face away, but she knew that Bella was still watching her. The woman took a step down and then another until she spun, diving into the nearest shadow, disappearing from view.

"What's wrong?" Heather whispered, still staring at where Bella Potter had been. "Was that...Bella Potter?"

"Yes," Romilda said, her voice hard. She turned and pressed her nose to Ariana's neck. Ariana stiffened as Romilda breathed in deeply. Romilda looked up, meeting her eyes. "You smell like her. And she smells like you. Why?"

"I...I don't..." Ariana stammered.

Romilda shook her head. "No. If you have to lie, just don't answer."

Ariana nodded, and looked down. They left Hogwarts Castle in a tense silence, following the long dirt path down to Hogsmeade. Ariana sighed, throwing her head back as she endured the silence. Romilda's arm tightened in hers, and she looked over.

"What?" Ariana asked.

"Bella Potter hurt you. Right?"

"Not physically. She would never," Ariana murmured.

Romilda's gaze hardened. "But, she hurt your feelings. Well, you might not be one of us just yet, but you are enough for us not to like her. So, we won't."

Ariana smiled and the tension drained with every step. The bustling streets of Hogsmeade greeted the four girls.

"I want a Firewhiskey. Let's go get some. Romilda, you're legal. You'll get us some?" Heather asked.

Romilda rolled her eyes. "Day-drinking? Really, Heather?"

"Yes, really, Romilda," Heather snapped, snarky.

Ariana looked between the two of them, expecting Romilda to snarl. She was shocked when Romilda just grinned and nodded.

"I've got your Firewhiskey, then. It's on me," Romilda laughed.

The four girls swung into The Three Broomsticks, cackling and laughing. Ariana wasn't sure what they were laughing at, but she couldn't help but join in. It was infectious. It overwhelmed her. They crowded towards the bar and Romilda slapped down her wand.

"Four Firewhiskeys please!"

Madame Rosemerta looked at her, amused, and nodded, turning to grab clean glasses and a dusty bottle of Firewhiskey. Ariana turned around to look over the crowd. There were a ton of Hogwarts students, all engaged in various groups and conversations. She looked farther down the bar, catching sight of Ruby and Sabrina. They hadn't been invited into Riddle's dueling class.

"Ariana, hey are your friends, oui?" Dominique asked.

"Yeah, they are," Ariana said.

Dominique leaned forward, attempting to hear their conversation.

"—hanging out with those girls, ignoring me," Ruby murmured.

"—girls who keep talking about things that aren't—"

Madame Rosemerta placed all four glasses in front of them, pouring them shots of Firewhiskey.

"—know! They're always screaming and raving about their conspiracy—"

"What the hell?" Heather snarled.

Ariana paled when she realized what they were overhearing. Romilda's lips were curled back and she drained her glass of Firewhiskey before turning to face them.

"Let's go," Romilda purred.

Ariana watched as the three girls circled Ruby and Sabrina like sharks, out for blood. Romilda's lips were pulled back into a sharp smile, tawny eyes glowing with hunger. She would eat two those girls alive if she could. Ariana was not close with Romilda, not like she sorta wanted to be, but she had watched Romilda last year. The girl was in absolute control—always. And she fed off of antagonizing and intimidating people.

"You wanna voice that louder for all of us to hear? If you disagree with me, say it to my face. Speak up," Romilda snarled, that smug, nasty smirk stretching her face into something ugly.

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "We were just saying that you're rather loud about your opinions. And you have a lot of doubt about that Ministry and no proof."

"I don't need any of that sterilized proof from the Prophet, because it's all lies anyway. The proof is in the burnt out husks of Muggle villages across this country. It's in the Dark Mark that hovers in the skies for hours until the Obliviators can deal with it all. It's in the fact that Scrimgeour and Amelia Bones haven't been seen together in months, because they're against each other," Romilda snarled as she faked a swing at Ruby. Ruby flinched and Romilda cackled, throwing her head back.

"It doesn't hurt that my mother is in the Light Denomination. We know things," Heather said, raising her eyebrows and pressing her lips together to avoid a smug smile. She took another sip of her Butterbeer and let out a long refreshed sound.

"How do we know you're not lying?" Ruby asked, quieter this time.

Dominique blinked and giggled. "Why would we lie about somet'ing as important as zis? Zis is important. Ze future of our wizarding world. Oui? Come now, Ruby. Ask better questions."

Ruby flushed and cast a pleading look at Ariana. Ariana looked down at the bar, picking at the cracks in the wood.

"Are you really going to bow down to three little girls with pre-determined futures as trophy wives that know their husbands are sleeping with the cute little girls that they used to be?"

Ariana looked up, sharply at the man leaning against the wall next to the bar. Her mouth went dry. It was him again.

He was tall, handsome with messy redhair and slightly broad shoulders. Except for the shoulders, he was pretty thin, dressed in all black. Ariana couldn't tell what he was supposed to be. The man looked up from his book, snapping it shut.

"I'm sorry, what?" Ariana rasped.

"They're going to crush your little friend. Ruby, was it?" the man asked. Ariana nodded, slowly. This very attractive man was talking to her. Someone was talking to her. Why was he talking to her? He was still talking. "Clearly, you have a soul. You just need to work on keeping it clean. 'We are all born marked for evil'."

The man turned away from her, and began to walk away.

"Um, okay. Don't just quote Baudelaire at me and then walk away," she snapped. He continued to walk. She grabbed his wrist and he came to a stop. "Excuse me. I didn't catch your name."

He smirked down at her. "I didn't throw it."

He walked away, and Ariana's mouth dropped open. She took in a slow breath, her cheeks turning cherry red.

"Hey! Get back here! And don't talk about my friends that way!" Ariana roared in pure, unadulterated rage. He looked over his shoulder and smirked at her before jutting his chin at her friends. Ariana sighed and turned back, glaring at Romilda, Dominique, and Heather. "Hey. Leave Ruby alone. Stop fucking with her."

The three girls looked up and Ruby gave Ariana a weak smile.

"Why? She's weak. And she thinks we're liars. I'm so, so tired of people thinking I'm a liar," Romilda said, her eyes wide, as if she really didn't get it.

"Gods, Romilda, don't be such an asshole. Dom, I know you're nicer than this. Heather's not, but you are," Ariana said earnestly and Dominique flushed, pressing her lips into a thin line before she nodded.

"Ari iz right. Zis is not nice. We are sorry, Ruby. But, we are not liars either. We know that zis Ministry is keeping zings from us," Dominique said quietly and she stepped back, casting a warning look at Romilda and Heather. "Come on. She won't be our friend if we don't apologize."

"Ugh. Fine. Sorry. Whatever," Heather groaned, tossing her long fishtail over her shoulder before turning her back on Ruby and stalking away to glare out the door.

Romilda sneered. "I'm not apologizing. I'm not a liar. But, I suppose I could forgive you calling me one. For now. Let's go. I'm done here."

Ariana shot another apologetic look over her shoulder at Ruby and Sabrina before following the processional. She turned back around to face three girls, arms crossed over their chests with varying degrees of disapproval on their faces.

"Not cool, Ariana," Heather said, primly.

"Wait what?" Ariana asked. Heather huffed, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. She reached forward, and flicked Ariana in the nose. "Ow."

"We're a united front, you twat. We're already called crazy enough. You're either with us or against us," Romilda snapped and Ariana opened her mouth to retort, but Dominique was already going.

"Oui, mon ami. We are teaching ze people about real life," Dominique said earnestly.

Ariana blinked. "Real life?"

"They think this is it. They pretend that Hogwarts is real life. Well, it's not. Real life is not here. It's the sky. You want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly," Romilda explained and though it didn't make it sense, it also did make sense. Ariana frowned at the confusing young woman.

"So, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?" Ariana asked.

"Yes," Romilda said, all self-righteousness and fearsome tawny eyes.

Ariana snorted. "You're beautiful."

Romilda sneered right back and prepared to retort.

"Well, look who it is! Two immigrants, a whore, and a crazy bitch. It looks like the crazy bitch finally got herself a whole set to admire."

Romilda spun around and sneered. "What do you want, Harper?"

"I want a lot of things," Harper said with a smirk. "Like be deep in your mother's pussy."

Romilda snorted. "Is that the best you could come up with, bitch?"

"What did you call him, slag?" Cross asked, leering over his best friend's shoulder. He turned his gaze onto Ariana. "Look at her little pink streaks fading. Maybe it's a wig. What's it made out of?"

Ariana flushed and her eyes widened when she was pushed behind someone clothed in green. Heather crossed her arms, jutting out her strange chin and looked down her nose at him.

"You mom's chest hair," Heather hissed.

Cross lunged forward, prepared to take a swing at them. Ariana watched in shock as all three girls immediately wielded their wands ready for a fight. Ariana pushed in front of them, dodging Cross' swing and punching him in the gut. Cross doubled over, letting out a loud grunt before he jumped up, baring his teeth.

"You want to fight, immigrant? I'm not afraid to hit a girl," Harper growled.

"Oh, bring it, bitch. I'm from Durmstrang. I've eaten guys like you for breakfast," Ariana snapped.

Just as the two prepared to lunge, a bolt of light caught the attention of them all—spectators and adversaries.

Ariana's eyes widened as the tall redheaded man stepped in front of the four of them, defending her from the two larger seventh year boys. He was tall and thin, decked in all black, and without freckles. She swallowed hard as the man pulled forth his wand.

"Leave the lady alone," he said in a low voice.

Harper scoffed, and lifted his own wand. "And who the fuck are you?"

"Doesn't matter. Just know I can kick your ass, kid. Now, leave the lady alone."

Harper paled, and Ariana swallowed. She watched as Harper drew himself up, and threw a Stunner at the man. She watched as the man easily batted the spell away, and countered, sending the boy flying. Ariana took a step back, and she cast a glance back at Romilda. Romilda was cackling with her girls, not even paying attention to the look on Ariana's face.

"Holy shit!" Romilda cackled as Harper staggered up and attempted to duel the older man.

Ariana shook herself. She knew that it was so horrible that they were fighting, but it felt so right. She really didn't want to be watching that crap, but with that man…damn.

Ariana was a woman, a gorgeous woman, she knew. She was a powerful woman, trained by Lady Nikolai, though the man didn't know that. That man had no idea and he had defended her, as if it were nothing that he was ready to start a fight with some seventeen-year-old kid.

This No-Name man...who was he? Who was this man that he was willing to fight for her? Who was he that he would face the crowd, proudly? Fuck, Ariana just wanted him to hold her hand, and wasn't that pathetic. Ariana was hot. She had fucked Fred and George Weasley. She could fuck anyone she wanted to, and she was stuck on this man that wanted to fight for her. He was fighting…for her. It was fine. He thought she was too young. But, he was still willing to fight for her. So, she would fight for him too.

Ariana swallowed. "Whoa," she breathed. The man could punch really good. His fist connected with Harper's jaw, knocking him back to the ground. The man was lasting longer than she thought he would.

"Holy shit," Romilda crowed again.

Ariana watched as No-Name man grabbed Harper and head-butted him, sending him to the ground. The man straightened, dusting himself off and he nodded at Ariana. Ariana was sure she looked like a gaping fish. The man smirked, winking at her before Disapparating with a loud crack.

Ariana's face flushed brightly. "Wow."

---

One Hyde Park, London, England, Great Britain

Friday the 3rd of September 1999

12:45 PM

Bella took a long sip of the wine. She sighed. She was drinking a lot of wine these days. A lot of wine out of enormous glasses. At least she hadn't degenerated into drinking straight from the bottle. She still had some semblance of class.

She frowned against the sunlight, thankful for her sunglasses as she leaned against the rail of her balcony.

"Want a fag?"

Bella looked up at where Hermione lazily sucked at her cigarette, blowing out the rancid smoke. She hadn't even pulled out her pack. She knew Bella would reject it. Hermione was just being polite.

"No, thanks. Want a glass of wine?" Bella asked quietly.

"No. One vice at a time, thank you. Blaise would have a field day if he saw me degenerate into both a smoker and an alcoholic," Hermione snorted and Bella shrugged.

"Well don't tell him I'm day drinking. He'd lecture me."

"Wasn't planning to," Hermione said quietly and they stood in a comfortable silence.

Hermione squinted, looking over the city of London on one of its rare sunny days. It wasn't warm. The periodic bursts of sharp cool air tempered the warmth in Bella's chest from the alcohol. But, it was a nice day. Bella sighed and took another long sip of her wine. She groaned when she saw it was almost done and picked up the bottle to refill the glass to the rim.

"How much wine have you drank since you lost it?" Hermione asked.

"I'm afraid that my husband is going to return tonight to see his top five favourite bottles missing. I'll have to go to a wine dealer to replace them," Bella said mildly. She shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Red wine prevents heart disease. It's for my health."

Hermione snorted. "Don't use knowledge to bullshit me, Bella Potter. I'm the curator of knowledge and bullshit."

"I'm pretty sure I'm the massive bullshitter of our little quad-siblinghood. You're the batshit crazy one."

Hermione smirked after a long drag from her cigarette. "Touché."

"How's Azkaban?" Bella asked.

"Boring. There are better things to do with my time than to rot in prison," Hermione said sharply. She looked over at Bella and frowned. "Hey. When you're a bonafide attorney and all that, you should look into legislation for the protection of mentally ill criminals. That argument you made was practically pulled out of your ass. I had quite literally never been so insane. I should've been placed in St. Mungo's to receive help. Not prison."

"Probably true. But either way, you would've been placed in prison, insane or sane. The law's a piece of shit," Bella explained.

"The Ministry is a piece of shit. Makes me glad that we're planning to raze it to the ground and take over," Hermione said quietly.

Bella snorted. "I'm glad too. I thought you always wanted to teach though."

"Oh, yes, I do," Hermione said sharply. "Maybe I would've worked at the Ministry, once upon a time, if I wasn't who I am. But, now I want to teach the next generations. Make me Headmistress of Hogwarts when we finally take over?"

"Don't ask permission from me," Bella said, rolling her eyes. "You are as much a Horseman as I."

"But, you are the Light Lady. You are my sister, but you are also my leader. Do not forget that," Hermione warned dangerously and Bella pursed her lips.

"How could I ever forget when you constantly remind me?" Bella snarked.

"I will always remind you," Hermione countered. "You forget that you are many things. You forget that you are a symbol. You forget that you are a leader. You forget that you are Light. You forget that you are a Lady. You forget that you are the most powerful witch of our generation—though not the smartest, that's still me. You forget that you are a wife, a lover, a guide, a teacher, a friend, and a sister. You cannot forget one of those things for the other. You must be all of these things if you wish to succeed."

"That's a lot on the shoulders of a 19 year old newlywed," Bella whispered quietly and Hermione took a long drag from her cigarette before she turned to Bella with wisdom in her half-sane dark eyes.

"But that is not all you are," Hermione challenged. "You are the Light Lady Nikolai."

"Yes, I know," Bella snapped.

"Do you?"

"Yes. Light, wife, lover, guide, teacher, friend, and sister. A Lady," Bella whispered.

Hermione nodded once. "You forget friend and sister. You have forgotten your other sister."

"Please don't speak about her to me," Bella murmured.

"You have to sometime. Or you won't heal," Hermione said. "She misses you."

"I miss her too," Bella admitted freely. There was no use beating around it, avoiding it. Not after the conversation she had had with Dumbledore. She had grown exponentially from that one conversation. The world was clearer. "But, we cannot go back to what we were. What's done is done."

"No. You can't go back. What's done is done. You can move forward. I don't know what that was about, but you need to fix it," Hermione snapped, finally turning fully to her. She took another long drag and blew it out over her shoulder. "I fucked up plenty of times. So have you. More than most of us. She forgave you every time. How about you show some damn mercy."

"I don't have a mercy for her. She knows what she did," Bella sneered.

Hermione laughed, throwing her head back. "Whatever she did is not worth this. I don't care how important 'she', whoever the hell that is, is. Luna Lovegood was there for you when none of us were. Luna Lovegood cried for you when you couldn't cry. Luna Lovegood held you in her arms while you mourned for our father and our brother and yourself. You will not turn your back on Luna Lovegood, because if you do, I wonder...if I fuck up too, will you turn your back on me?"

"You're my sis—"

"So is she!" Hermione snapped. The two women fell silent, only looking at each other. Hermione took a final drag of her cigarette before dropping it and crushing the flames out with her heel. "Oh, Bella...you're still a selfish fool sometimes. Luna Lovegood has given up everything for us. Isn't it time we humble ourselves for her. Humble yourself. Go talk to your sister."

Bella turned away, her green eyes half opened. She finished the glass.

---

West Country, England, Great Britain

Saturday the 4th of September 1999

1:12 AM

Tonks stumbled through the fray, searching for Eddie. She frowned when she couldn't see him through the thick sheets of rain. The rain had turned her neon pink hair a dreary purple. Tonks frowned and focused, her nose twitching. Her hair turned a dark brown, no longer a beacon for Death Eaters. She shook her head as she leapt over fallen debris. Tonks couldn't understand where all of the Death Eaters were coming from. Their intel never said that there were so many.

"Watch your back woman!"

Tonks ducked immediately as a Stunner flew over her right into the Death Eater sneaking up on her. She waved a hand of thanks at Moody and he snarled at her before turning back to face down another Death Eater.

"What's going on? There are so many people!" Tonks shouted at Moody as she stood at his back, defending it from her any that thought they could get the up and up on him. It was unnecessary because of his eye but it gave her peace of mind.

"I know. We need to pull back. Regroup. Something's wrong," Moody growled.

He raised his wand to summon the red sparks, but was interrupted by the thunder of dozens of people Apparating. Tonks spun towards the sound and she balked.

Madame Amelia Bones stood at the end of the street, flanked by a thin redheaded woman in black battle leathers. She was crouched by Madame Bones' side, like a wild panther, ready to strike. Kingsley stood on Madame Bones' other side and immediately, Tonks morphed into an unrecognizable persona. She knew what Madame Bones' presence meant. The Madame lifted her wand to her throat.

"WE ARE THE AUROR DEPARTMENT! VIGILANTES AND DEATH EATERS, ALIKE, STAND DOWN! CEASE YOUR FIRE!"

There was another crack of someone Apparating. Tonks let out a tiny whimper when she saw who stood between the Auror Department and the rest of the battle.

The Dark Lord.

His hood was down, exposing his shiny scaly head. His ears were two tiny little nubs on either side of his head. Voldemort was so tall, swathed in black fabric. He took a step forward, exposing barefeet. Voldemort's mouth curled into a lipless smile.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Madame Bones," he hissed, so polite and terrifying.

Madame Bones stepped forward, her wand raised even higher.

"Voldemort, as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, you are under my arrest for domestic terrorism, murder, conspiracy—"

"You bore me, Madame," Voldemort sighed. "Avada Kedavra."

"Accio." Kingsley summoned a sign, intercepting the Unforgiveabe.

The sign exploded, raining shrapnel everywhere. Tonks ducked to avoid it. She gasped when she saw a purple beam racing towards her face, vibrating with power. She threw up a Shield Charm and stumbled back from the force of the buzzing spell. It dissipated after a moment through her Shield Charm cracked underneath the brute power. Tonks gasped, shaking.

She looked around for Eddie again and cursed when she didn't find him. She turned back to Madame Bones and Voldemort. Tonks let out a sight of relief when she heard a crack and there Dumbledore stood, just behind Madame Bones.

Amelia jumped, looking over her shoulder. She glowered at the old man that stood there with his benign expression. His blue eyes searched at the area, scanning for Grindelwald before landing on Voldemort. He took a step forward, raising his wand.

"If you interfere, Headmaster, I will arrest you," Amelia snarled at Dumbledore. The old man looked nearly offended, but Amelia's expression did not falter. She turned back to face Voldemort, her Shield Charm beginning to buckle under the onslaught of his spells and curses.

"Amelia, my dear girl, you can't do this alone," Dumbledore said.

Amelia snorted. "I'm not. I've got Kingsley and Fay. Fay, go!"

Fay sped underneath Amelia's Shield Charm, spun, and roared, "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

The street exploded. Dumbledore's eyes widened as he saw the raw power expelled from this girl—this girl that had flown under his radar in her entire time at Howarts. Fay skidded to a stop, as smoke blew past her. With bated breath, they watched for the smoke to clear. Fay cursed her breath when she began to make out the shape of wards, just big enough to house Voldemort.

"Madame! Permission to use an Unforgiveable?" Fay shouted.

Amelia only hesitated for a moment, her eyes on the flickering wards in the midst of the smoke.

"Permission granted. Kingsley on her clock."

Fay ran forward, Kingsley just down of her and she jumped, shrieking at the top of her lungs. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The bolt of green light pierced through the smoke, expelling it. The Dark Lord waved his wand, and a man, a Death Eater from the looks of it, flew in front of the spell, struck dead by it. The Dark Lord stepped back, his eyes narrowed at Fay.

"Accio," Voldemort hissed.

Fay flew forward and his scaly clawed wrapped around neck, tightly. Amelia let out a rasping shout before wrestling herself under control again. Her expression turned to steel and she cut through the fighting, moving towards where Fay was limply held in Voldemort's grip. The Dark Lord seemed to be saying something to Fay. Amelia's eyes narrowed when Fay nodded. She didn't look frightened, and Amelia admired the woman even more.

Voldemort suddenly tossed Fay to the side and fully faced Amelia. Amelia glanced over her shoulder. Dumbledore hovered there, looking like an anxious grandfather for all to see.

"Voldemort, what is it that you want?" Dumbledore shouted across the field.

"Headmaster—" Amelia snarled, in warning. She turned her steel gaze back onto Voldemort and Fay. Fay was slowly crawling away from the Dark Lord, never taking her eyes off of him.

"Tell me. Where is Bella Potter?" Voldemort asked, curiously.

Before Amelia could answer, she watched as a young man leapt over Fay's fallen body and skidded to a stop between the two groups. He wasn't particularly tall, but he wasn't sure. He was handsome in a charming, unassuming way with an easy smile. It was unsettling to a smile like that in the setting they were in. Amelia lifted her wand slowly.

"Ah. I'd like to know the same thing," the man purred. The Dark Lord bared his teeth at him, lifting his wand. "Ah, ah, ah. Voldemort…don't do anything you'll regret."

Voldemort dropped his wand and stepped back, his eyes narrowed before he let out a loud deafening hiss. Amelia's eyes widened in recognition and she lifted her wand, ready to cast an Anti-Apparition Charm. As she gathered the magic, it was interrupted by Disapparating everywhere. Amelia spun around to look at Dumbledore and his vigilantes, but she watched as they disappeared, including the man that had challenged Voldemort, leaving only their leader.

"If you had accepted my help, we could've worked together in finally apprehending Voldemort," Dumbledore patronized.

Amelia growled, storming away and she knelt by Fay's side, grabbing her hand and helping her up.

"What did he say to you?" Amelia demanded.

Fay swallowed hard. "He asked after Bella. Wanted to see. He wanted to fight her."

"We can't allow that to happen," Amelia muttered under her breath, and she nodded, helping Fay to stand by her side. She looked over at the young woman. "Are you hurt?"

"No. I don't even think I'll bruise. Just winded," Fay admitted and Amelia nodded.

The two women walked back to where Dumbledore waited, such condescension in those electric blue eyes.

"Are you well, dear girl?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fine," Fay barked. She took a step forward. "The Ministry doesn't accept the help of vigilantes, Headmaster. I don't care who you are."

Amelia's smile widened when Dumbledore took a step back in surprise. He gave them a sad look, as if he pitied them. He shook his head.

"You will need my help in the end," he said.

Amelia hummed. "Then, wait until we ask for it."

---

Wyndcliff Road Westcombe Park SE7, Charlton, London

Saturday the 4th of September 1999

2:00 AM

Groaning from the soreness of her limbs, Fay stripped out of her battle robes. She threw them to the floor and moved to grab her shorts and tank top. She changed with efficiency, wanting nothing more than to get into bed. Fay slipped off her leather cuff and placed it on her armoire.

"Look around…look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now," she whispered.

Fay ran her fingers over her armoire and looked up at the reflection in the mirror. Spencer leaned against the wall, a dark look over his face. Fay slowly turned around to look at her lover and moved closer to him, lifting her hand to his cheek. When he didn't move into it, Fay dropped her hand to his wrist and placed his hand over her stomach.

Spencer's eyes widened. "How long have you known?"

"About a month or so."

"Fay, you should've told me," Spencer rasped and there was a look of in awe in his eyes. Fay's lips twitched and she shrugged.

"I wrote to Voldemort about two weeks ago. I begged him to send you home," Fay said quietly.

Spencer paled. "You should've told me."

"I'm not sorry," Fay said brusquely. She swallowed hard. "I know you'd fight until the war was won."

"It's not done."

"You should have a chance to meet your child. Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now," Fay said pointedly and he knew how she hated him going off to be a hitwizard and going to Azkaban and playing double-triple agent.

"Will you be okay with being a man's mistress, unable to truly provide for you until this is all over?" Spencer whispered quietly and Fay pressed her forehead into his shoulder and sighed.

"I'm okay with being in your life," she confessed. "Look at where you and I are. Look at where we started. The fact that we're alive is a miracle. Staying alive would be enough."

Spencer grabbed her chin, tilting her head up and looking in her eyes. "If this child shares a fraction of your smile or a fragment of your mind…look out world," Spencer teased. Fay only grinned and then it faltered and she sighed.

"I understand the challenges we'll be facing. But, I'm not afraid. I know who I love. I know you have your wife and Voldemort and the Ministry pulling you three ways. But, so long as you come home, that would be enough," Fay said and he knew who his home was. Spencer nodded in agreement. Fay swallowed. "We don't need a legacy. We don't need money."

"If I could grant you peace of mind…" he began. Spencer swallowed. "Let me a part of your narrative. I'll stay and I'll be enough. We'll be enough. We'll be enough for our child."

Fay's lips curved into a slow smile and she nodded. She leaned up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before pulling back. "Okay," she murmured. "Now, go. Use the front door like a gentleman and get back to whatever the Dark Lord has you doing. Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Of course, my dear," Spencer said teasingly. He watched as her face twisted at the endearment. She hated them. His Fay was a tough woman who pretended to be too hard for the softness that he longed to show her. She was terrible at pretending.

Fay grabbed his hand, entwining her fingers with his and they walked from her room, crossing through the living room to the front door. Fay paused and she looked up into the kitchen to see her two roommates staring back at her. Spencer looked up sharply, his wand in his hand. He dropped his wand when he saw Padma and Parvati but the tension remained in his shoulders.

"Goodbye, my dear," Spencer said and he pulled her forward gently, looping his arm around her waist and he pressed a kiss to her lips. It was long and languid and lasting and Fay moaned into the kiss. When she pulled back, there was a hint of warmth in her eyes that was only present when she looked at him.

"Good night, Spencer," she murmured and she opened the door and pushed him towards the stairs with a smile. The sound of his Disappariton echoed in the stairwell. Fay spun around and closed the door, leaning back against it.

"Who was that?" Padma asked immediately, breaking the tension.

Fay regarded her for a long moment before saying, "I'm pregnant."

The twins stared at her, a mix of horror, joy and awe.

"You're...pregnant?" Parvati whispered. "Are you going to...get rid of it? Does Bella know?"

"Bella knows. I'm not getting rid of the child," Fay said gently. Her lips curved into a tiny smile when Parvati beamed at her. She turned her gaze onto Padma but the woman was still staring at her shrewdly.

"Was that the father?" Padma asked.

Fay blinked. "Yes. He's married."

"What?" Parvati snarled.

"He's married. I knew. It's fine. It gets worse," Fay said, refusing to let emotion permeate her voice as she busied herself with making a midnight meal for herself. "He's a Death Eater. He married his wife because her position in the Ministry benefits the Dark Lord."

"You're joking," Padma breathed. "Please tell me you're joking. Please tell me you at least told Bella."

"No. I haven't," Fay said softly. "But, I will."

"How far along are you?" Padma asked.

Fay continued look and frowned when she couldn't find the sweets she craved. "I found out a month ago. I'm about 2 months along. Just before he left on a mission for the Dark Lord."

"Are you okay?" Parvati asked.

Fay frowned. "Um...I'm hungry. Can we make cookies?"

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Saturday the 4th of September 1999

3:22 AM

"Oh, my sweet child," he purred into her white blonde hair, running his fingers through the strands. She pressed her face closer to his neck, the salt of her tears mixing with the salt of his sweat. "Do not cry. Do not weep. I am here."

"I want my Godmother," she weeped.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. He pulled her back, tilting her head up. "You have no Godmother, sweet girl. Only me. There's only us. We are one. You only have me."

She frowned., shaking her head. He was almost kind looking, if it weren't for the cruel jut of his chin and those overlarge navy eyes that sucked the light out of their little dark corner. He was all angles, his elbow and knees poking into the soft parts of her. His arms were wrapped around her, caging her in against his hollow chest. She thought that if he could, he would bury her in the cage of his ribs.

"Okay," she whispered.

His lips curled into a sweet smile and he stood up, long and thin and towering. He was like a mosquito, sucking all of the sunlight from her. There was no sun in this horrid place, and she needed the sun to live. She needed it to breathe. She needed it so that her heart would beat.

"Now, come, sweetheart. We've got work to do." He grabbed her hand, yanking her up. She crashed into him, but he didn't budge, only settled his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face outwards.

"What work?" she sniffled.

"Let's see that pretty wand, pretty girl. Lift it high. I'm going to teach you something. Would you like to learn something?" he purred in her ear.

She stiffened. "I had a teacher," she whispered.

"No, you didn't," he snarled. She jumped, flinching into him and one of his hands settles across her neck, long fingers wrapping around the pale column. "There's only me. Only me and you. Okay, sweetheart. Now lift you wand and point."

"What are we doing?" she asked even as she did as he commanded.

"Point it at that there. You see her?" he breathed into her ear.

She saw her. She saw the girl with long wild black hair, and a pretty face, and pink lips, and eyes that should be green but were blue. The girl was huddled over in a corner, shivering and crying. She wasn't pretty when she cried. The girl had snot running from her nose, clinging to cracked lips, eyes big and puffy, and her face blotchy.

"I see her," she said, pointing her wand.

"Have you ever hated before, pretty girl?"

"Yes." She didn't have to wait to answer that. She knew what it was to hate someone. She had a mother—or maybe not, because he said there was only him, him and her—a woman that had slapped her and resented her for existing. She had a Headmaster that looked at her as if she were something that he had lost, something that belonged to him. She had a person, a person that she couldn't remember, that had lied to her, and no, she didn't hate that person, she missed that person, but she hated that too.

"Then say the word, and hate."

And then Ariana said the word.

"CRUCIO!"

The world wept and the girl huddled in the corner screamed.

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Saturday the 4th of September 1999

6:45 PM

"You're going to the Ravenclaw party tonight," Astoria said simply as the two girls walked the grounds. It was a brisk day despite the shining sun, but Ariana didn't feel the cold through the heavy woollen cloak and robes she wore.

"I am. I was invited," Ariana said with a small smile.

"Invited by Romilda and her friends," Astoria said flatly.

Ariana nodded. "Yeah."

"Look, I'm not going to tell you who to be friends with because Romilda apologized for being a homophobic twat, but Daphne warned you about them," Astoria said softly, and Ariana frowned at the twinge of pain that crossed her face again as she mentioned her sister.

"Daphne? Your sister? Are you all right, Astoria?" Ariana asked.

Astoria nodded. "Yeah. It's just...Daphne is on another business trip and I don't know when she'll be back and Christine isn't back yet from the Academy even though she was supposed to be back to see me off."

"Oh...I'm sorry—"

"No," Astoria interrupted. Ariana's eyes widened, taken back but Astoria's brusqueness but the Greengrass pushed on. "That's not the point of this conversation. My point is that Daphne wouldn't have warned you against them if she didn't have a good reason."

Ariana frowned, crossing her arms as she looked over at the brunette. Astoria wasn't looking at her, simply staring across the lake.

"Don't...Romilda said she was sorry about what she said," Ariana said quietly.

Astoria nodded. "And I believe her. I do. But, they're bad news, Ariana. They're reckless, belligerent, and only want to cause trouble," Astoria said quietly. "You hear them always screaming about revolution and their convoluted conspiracy theories about the Ministry controlling the media."

"They're bringing awareness. Look, Astoria, just because you're content with Neutrality doesn't mean the rest of us are," Ariana snapped and Astoria raised a single eyebrow, but didn't contest that. She only nodded and crossed her arms.

"Okay. Fine. You want to fight. I get it. I'm used to it. I just...I don't want you to get hurt," Astoria sighed and Ariana couldn't help but smile though she began to frown as the words poked at her consciousness.

"I won't get hurt. But...Astoria, how much do you know about Daphne and Bella Potter's relationship? They hang out right?" Ariana asked, suspiciously. She watched Astoria's reaction, watched the way she stiffened and refused to look at her.

"Yes," Astoria whispered.

"Does she know that Bella is Lady Nikolai?"Ariana asked quietly. Astoria looked up sharply, her eyes wide but she didn't say anything. Ariana gave her an ugly smile. "Did you know that Bella is Lady Nikolai?"

"Yes."

"Of course you did," Ariana said and she threw her head back and laughed. "You want me to stay away from them because it's convenient for you and it's what Bella wants. Not so Neutral, I suppose."

"Hey. Just because my sister picked a side doesn't mean I have. I'm a Greengrass. We don't pick sides," Astoria snapped and Ariana snorted.

"Yeah, especially not mine."

"Fuck you!" Astoria shouted. Ariana reared back, her eyes wide. Astoria ignored it and pushed on. "I'm not fucking involved with that bullshit. I'm not...I'm not brave like my sister and I don't agree with everything Bella does. She talks a big game about the Light and Dark, but she doesn't honour either properly. She bastardizes my religion, and she's playing some kind of damn game. I'm just trying to get out of here."

Ariana scoffed. "So, you knew and you're a coward."

"FUCK YOU!"

"Did you know about me being cursed?" Ariana spat.

Astoria frowned, her eyes widening. "Cursed? What do you mean cursed?"

"Your Lady, or your sister's lady—whatever—cursed me. She says it was by accident. She said she loved me. I guess that's not true. I guess my life can't be just mine. Bella always has to be involved, making herself involved. Gods, she really is evil," Ariana said, laughing sardonically. She shook her head, raging running up her skin, making the hairs on her arm stand up straight.

"I don't know...what do you know about Bella?" Astoria demanded.

"Enough."

"Clearly not if you think she's evil," Astoria said. "She's done a lot of bad shit, but she's not evil."

Ariana shook her head. "Maybe you don't know anything about her. Look, I've got to meet Romilda. She wants Doritos before the party, and she wants me to, like, prove myself by sneaking to Tesco's to get them."

As Ariana stalked away, Astoria frowned but didn't call after her. "What's a Dorito? And who is Tesco?"

---

Tesco's, London, England, Great Britain

Saturday the 4th of September 1999

7:25 PM

"So, all I have to do is go in and get you Doritos?" Ariana asked, her hip cocked and an eyebrow raised. Romilda looked at her, unimpressed.

"I thought I just said that. I don't need you to summarize," Romilda snarled before gesturing sharply to the door of Tesco's.

"What flavour?"

"Fucking cool ranch, of course. Gods, you can be daft," Romilda said, rolling her eyes.

Ariana sighed, rolled her eyes, and marched into the grocer, intent on proving herself.

She wasn't sure why Romilda was putting her to do pointless things, but she would. Ariana wasn't sure why Romilda had liked her at the pub, but suddenly held nothing but disdain, but Ariana was not a Hufflepuff for nothing. She was hard-working, and she had already put in the work to be friends with the young woman.

Ariana shivered from the blast of freezing air. She glanced at the bored, pimply teenagers behind the counters. One was a girl, furiously chewing gum, blowing pink bubbles in her partner's face. Ariana turned back and wandered down the snack aisle, searching for the triangle shaped chips that Romilda so desperately wanted. Ariana spotted the bright blue bag and smirked. She went for it, single-mindedly, elbowing another person. She spun around.

"Oh, I'm—"

Ariana froze as she stared at the man. Slowly, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the man that had defended her from Harper and had tried to call her out for her behaviour at Hogsmeade with her girls. It was the man she had met at the wedding, the man that was too attractive for her own good.

"Greetings and salutations," the man said as he licked at his ice lolly. Ariana swallowed hard and hummed.

"It's you. What the hell are you doing here at Tescos Express, for gods' sake?" Ariana barked.

"What are you doing here? I've graduated. You're still in school. You're the one doing something wrong by sneaking out," the man pointed out, and Ariana huffed, shaking her head and she crossed her arms, looking for the particular brand of crisps.

"Romilda Vane likes Muggle crisps. I said I'd go get some for her because I'm the only one in our group that can Apparate already," Ariana explained and she shook her head when she still didn't see the crisps. "You know what Doritos are?"

The man smirked. "Yeah. You're Ariana Goode," the man said.

"How did you know?" Ariana asked, suspiciously.

The man smirked. "I'm very good friends with your Godmother."

Ariana grimaced. She hated any reminder of…her. Even though, she missed her, desperately and terribly. "How did you know that's what I called her?"

"We're close," he said with a small smile.

Ariana huffed. "You ever gonna tell me your name?" she asked.

"And ruin all of the suspense?" the man teased. Ariana huffed. The man grinned wider. "The name's Anthony Goldstein."

"Tony, eh?" Ariana asked. Anthony seemed ready to protest the name, but he shook his head. "You pulled some wild moves in Hogsmeade earlier, but if you know my Godmother, then you know I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know," Anthony confirmed.

"Then, what's a badass, Baudelaire quoting guy like you doing in Hogsmeade since you're a grown man and all?" Ariana taunted. Anthony shrugged, and Ariana really didn't expect an answer.

"I don't really like your friends," Anthony said.

"Eh…I don't really like them either…sometimes. Most of the time. Except…they're good to me. Most of the time. So...I'm not sure how I feel about them yet," Ariana said, and even she found herself confusing. She could see the bewilderment on Anthony's face.

"What does your friend want with Doritos anyway?"

"There's this…big party tonight that the Ravenclaws are throwing," Ariana explained.

Anthony's lips quirked. "Interesting. I remember those. Hufflepuffs weren't usually invited to that stuff."

"Well, I'm one of the popular girls now, so whatever," Ariana sniffed. She looked around, biting her lip. "It's freezing in here. What kind of date is sharing a lolly in the freezer section of a Tescos Express?"

"Is this a date, little girl?" Anthony asked with mock surprise on his face. Ariana snorted and she leaned forward, curious.

"Not many wizards know about Tesco's and…is that a Star of David?"

"Goldstein. It's Jewish. And of course I know Tesco's. I've moved six times. Everything starts to get a bit blurry. My parents would always keep trunks packed so it was usually a matter of when. I didn't learn names or the faces of my neighbours. But, every time we moved, there was a Tesco's right there," Anthony explained. Ariana quirked her eyebrow at the strangeness of the man before her.

"Is that so?"

"Each store is the same, you know. Merlin forbid there wasn't a Tesco's where I could get my lolly. You know…I've always liked the feeling of brain freeze," Anthony babbled and Ariana snorted, shaking her head.

"You might be the only one, mate."

Anthony stuck the whole thing in his mouth and held it there before he shuddered and yanked out the lolly.

"Freezing your brain…getting lost in the pain. Happiness is easy to come by when you're numb. I mean who needs cocaine with that?" Anthony asked, his eyes sparking with amusement. But, Ariana was smart and observant enough to see a spark of pain in his eyes. "Care for a hit?"

"Does your mummy know you eat all of that crap?" Ariana asked, teasingly.

Anthony's smile dropped. "Not anymore. Mummy's dead. Was a Muggle. When I lived with her, I lived pretty normal. No real moving. Then, I lived with my stepmom and dad. But, that's neither here nor there. That's the past, isn't it? You're planning your future, Ariana Goode. Is that why you're friends with those girls?"

"What do you mean by that? Those girls are halfway decent sometimes. They're my people," Ariana defended instantly and she frowned, shaking her head when she realized that she felt okay insulting her friends but hated it when others did. Well, if that wasn't true friendship.

"You're going to graduate and marry some Ministry worker," Anthony said dismissively.

Ariana snarled. "Fuck you. I've got plans."

"Uh huh," Anthony smirked. But, he didn't sound like he doubted her anymore. "When I was your age, all I wanted to do was freeze my brain. Still kinda feel that way sometimes. I want to forget who I am. I bet you feel that, huh?"

Ariana swallowed hard at his accuracy. Anthony grabbed her hands, dropping his lolly between their feet. He grabbed her hands, and looked at her with this look that she could only think of as begging. "When the voice in your head says you're better off dead, don't open up a vein. Just…freeze your brain. Promise me, okay?"

"You sound like you've got experience," Ariana whispered, her voice breaking and she hated herself for it for a moment.

"I do. Freeze your brain. Try it."

"You're cute," Ariana whispered.

Anthony tipped her head up, his fingers on her chin and Ariana felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.

"I'm still four years older than you."

And then he was gone. Ariana staggered out of the Tesco's without paying for Romilda's Doritos. The young woman snatched it from her and ripped it open, popping one of the chips into her mouth.

"What took you so long?" Romilda asked.

Ariana bit her lower lip. "Um...I stole those."

Romilda paused. "Fuck. Let's go."

---

Clearwater Manor, Unplottable Location, England, Great Britain

Saturday the 4th of September 1999

8:30 PM

Bella bit her lower lip, looking over her shoulder at herself in the mirror. The ivory jumpsuit draped over her. It made her look quite lovely. She sighed. It was one of the last things Luna had made before Bella had stopped talking to her, and Bella wondered if she had seen in a vision that jumpsuit was the perfect thing for the dinner. Bella spun back around to look at the room.

"Lord Clearwater, this is absolutely perfect. Thank you so much for hosting us tonight," Bella said with a small smile. Lord Clearwater sniffed at her, utter disdain in every line of his face. Bella smiled wider.

"I do wonder why you couldn't do it, as you're the one who called for this meeting," he snapped. "I had to send my wife away."

Bella nodded. "And I appreciate your dedication to the need for secrecy. My own residence is a little too small for a meeting of this calibre."

"Small? You're Bella Potter," Lord Clearwater squawked.

"I mean to say, my primary residence, shared with Lord Riddle, is a flat in central London. I felt it was inappropriate to host a meeting at a Black or Slytherin Residence, and I haven't opened any of my Potter estates. It seems…unnecessary," Bella said politely. She pretended not to notice Lord Clearwater rolling his eyes. "Now, please introduce me."

Lord Clearwater nodded, and Bella went through the motions. She met Ms. Diggory again, a woman with a perpetual sneer and stick up her ass. She met Lord Abbott, Hannah Abbott's grandfather, Mr. Higgs, Mx. Orpington, and Lady Prewett. Bella knew their names, where they lived, what they looked like, and she profiled each and every one of them. It seemed like nearly all of them had some sort of disdain for her. It made her want to laugh, either in self-pity or self-hatred. She snorted, gaining another sneer from Lord Clearwater as they approached an older woman, standing by her lonesome, sipping something far stronger than the champagne Lord Clearwater had laid out.

"It is a pleasure to finally and truly meet you," the older woman said.

She was an elegant woman with aged lines on her face, but they only made her look more dignified. Bella couldn't tell if her hair was blonde or gray, but it curled beautifully around her face. Bella's lips curled into a small smile and she offered her hand to the woman, shaking it strongly. The older woman didn't tremble before her, only stared at her with reservation. Bella's lips curled into a smile.

She thought she might like this woman.

"And you. You are?" Bella asked.

The woman smirked. "Lady Greta Rosier-Sutter."

"Heather Sutter's mother?" Bella asked immediately, and she thought back to that day where she had caught a glimpse of her Ariana with Heather Sutter, Romilda Vane, and Dominique Delacour.

"You know my daughter?" Lady Rosier-Sutter asked, a pleased gleam to her eyes.

"Not truly. She's friends with my...charge, of sorts."

"Aren't you young for a charge?" Lord Clearwater asked with a slight sneer on his face.

Bella hummed. "Am I?" she asked. She couldn't help sneering back, and she chastised herself for her childishness. "Diplomacy," she hissed under her breath.

Lady Rosier-Sutter smirked, as if she had heard her.

"I hope your charge will be a good influence on my girl," Lady Rosier-Sutter said.

"I'm sorry to say, Lady Rosier-Sutter, she probably we won't. She's brash, loud, and irritating about listening to her elders. I'm afraid she's a bit like me," Bella said with a grin.

The woman laughed. "Well, isn't that a mouthful, Lady Gryffindor. Do call me Greta."

"And you must call me Bella, then," Bella insisted.

She liked this woman.

"Bella—" Lord Clearwater began.

"You may still call me Lady Gryffindor, my Lord," Bella said dismissively, and she smirked over at Greta who snorted into her brandy.

"Right," the man said stiffly. "I will attend to our other guests."

He nearly stormed away. The two women watched him ago. Bella burst into snorts, hastily muffled behind her hand.

"He's always been a bit of a child," Greta said shortly.

Bella nodded. "I see. Tell me, Greta, was he always like that?"

"I'm not sure. You see, I only got the seat after my husband died. I am Light, but as you can tell from my maiden name, my family is not. Rosier, eh?"

"I didn't want to assume," Bella began.

"Oh, do. Please. That whole lot is a sack of shit," the old woman said.

Bella actually laughed then, the bubble gum sound echoing throughout the room. Bella winced when she realized that everyone was watching her.

"Ain't that a…different sound," Greta said generously.

Bella only laughed harder, barely noticing the couple that slowly approached the two of htem. The woman stepped forward first and curtsied with a smile.

"Hello, Greta," the dark-haired woman said, brightly.

Greta stiffened, a strange look crossing her face. "Yes…hello."

The dark-haired woman turned to look at Bella with a smile. "Hello! I'm well!"

"Uh, hello," Bella said, frowning.

The man shrugged, but didn't say anything, looking around in utter disinterest. He looked down at his champagne flute and sighed before looking at Greta's glass in longing. "Where did you get the brandy?" he asked.

"Magic it up yourself," Greta retorted.

The dark-haired woman grinned. "How are you?"

"Well. I don't mean to be rude, but who are you, exactly? I didn't see either of you at Hermione's trial," Bella said quietly.

The man and woman stared at her with wonder, as if they couldn't believe they were seeing her. Bella shifted uncomfortably under their gaze. She had thought she was used to people gaping at the Girl-Who-Lived—or rather, she had thought people had gotten over it after being in the media so much. Bella tilted her head.

"We are Wulfric and Ethelinda Vane," the woman said, and she extended her hand. Bella took it, shaking it once before doing the same to the woman's brother.

"I thought only the Heir of a family got the vote. At least, that's how it is in other families. Both siblings don't get a vote. It makes it unfair," Bella said sharply.

Ethelinda grinned. "Oh. Wulfric is my husband. We share the vote. We decide together. We did not come to your sister's trial because we are not usually included. The Dark Sect is missing a vote—only fourteen for now. We do not usually fight to be included. We like being on our own."

"I see," Bella said, though she really didn't.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Wulfric said in a low rumbling voice that reminded Bella of a lion's purr. It made a chill run down Bella's spine. This man was attractive.

"The pleasure's all mine," Bella said slowly.

Ethelinda reached forward, gripping Bella's face. Bella jumped and tried to flinch away, but Ethelinda only followed her.

"My gods, you're beautiful. Always knew you would be. Well, my husband and I should say hello to a few others. Oh, my Lady, we will send you an owl soon. We must have you over for tea. You and your…protege," Ethelinda grinned.

Bella's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about her?"

"Our daughter is good friends with her. Will be good friends. Best friends. Sisters," Wulfric insisted. "Come, my love, we must make our rounds."

Ethelinda wiggled her fingers in goodbye and smiled before being whisked away by her husband. Bella stared after them. Her skin burned from Ethelinda's strangely warm touch.

"They are...weird," Bella whispered under her breath.

Greta threw her head back and laughed. She turned a shrewd gaze to Wulfric and Ethelinda. They were a beautiful couple, moving with grace and purpose. Though they spoke to different people, they never moved far from one another. When one shifted, the other followed.

"They are odd," Greta murmured. "Ethelinda and Wulfric Vane. They aren't even purebloods. I don't know where their vote comes from, but they wouldn't be able to be here if they didn't have them. They rarely come out from their little chateau. They are very, very private people."

"I've never seen them before," Bella breathed. "Vane...Romilda Vane."

"Their firstborn," Greta said. "My daughter is friends with her. They go around Diagon Alley, in the pubs, and scream and carry on about freedom of the press and censorship."

Bella's lips curled into a smile though they she struggled against it. "Do they really?" she laughed.

"Yes. Them and the little French girl...Professor Delacour's sister, Dominique. Hmmm...not becoming of young heiresses."

Bella smiled. "I was like them. Wild girls. Except, I had blood on my boots, cursed foully, and got into battles that I couldn't quite fight, not really. I turned out fine."

"Yes, but you didn't have Romilda Vane whispering in your ears about revolution," Greta sneered.

Bella hummed and turned towards the milling Light Denomination. She committed each of their faces to memory. She had known all of their names, but she would become their friend. Bella would ingrain herself in their lives until they could not leave her—would not want to leave her. When the time came, these people would be on her side.

"I know that look," Greta murmured.

"I'm sorry?" Bella asked, pleasantly surprised.

Greta smirked at her, finishing off her glass. "Ah, what I wouldn't do for some vodka. Need something a bit stronger," she muttered to herself. Bella laughed and Greta's smirk widened. "You summoned us for something more than getting to know us. That look…smart women get that look. Women that plot. Women like us. You want power, Bella Potter."

"I have power," Bella corrected.

Greta laughed. "We always want more. And women like us, well, we'll do whatever to get it."

"Women like us?" Bella asked curiously.

Greta nodded. "Women like us."

"So, you want power, Greta? Not money to support your dilapidated fortune," Bella asked, her voice biting. She waited with baited breath, and suppressed a smile when Greta barked out a low, hard laugh. The woman didn't look offended in the least. She looked pleased.

"Money is the Diggory's nouveau riche mansion in St. Ottery's Catchpole. It'll be falling apart after ten years. Power is the old stone building that stands for centuries. I can't respect someone who doesn't see the difference. Do you?" Greta asked.

Bella smiled. "I'm starting to."

Bella turned to look at the Light Denomination. They were socializing. They were pretending not to be looking at her, but all of their eyes lingered on her. Bella stepped forward, nodding to herself.

"I call the Light Denomination to order," Bella called.

Almost as one, they turned to her. Bella stared back into the abyss. The men and women before her were Light, but they were political monsters. Bella hoped that she was in good company.

"Lady Gryffindor, why do you call us here?" Lord Clearwater asked immediately. "I had the good grace to offer my home for this meeting, without knowing the reasoning, and yet, I still do not. It is time you tell us."

Bella nodded. "I was getting there, Lord Clearwater," she said pointedly. The man stared at her with ill-hidden disdain. "There is a war happening. We know this though the rest of the populace does not. The world is shifting, and we must adapt. We must adapt as one."

"If we must adapt as one, then where is Professor Dumbledore?" Ms. Diggory demanded.

Bella grinded her teeth for just a moment before turning to look at Ms. Diggory. The woman looked at her, defiant and unafraid. Bella flashed her the most charming smile she could, and it grew wider when the woman look at her, utterly disoriented.

"Before my sister's trial, the last time the Light Denomination was called to judge, I was seven. Professor Dumbledore believed that, in assuming my seat, he was protecting me. I have rectified him of these thoughts. I am Lady Gryffindor. I am the Head of the Light Denomination," Bella said. She allowed no room for protest. She stood firmly and nodded. She turned back to Lord Clearwater, another charming smile on her face. "I want to thank you again, Lord Clearwater, for providing the venue and dinner."

Lord Clearwater nodded, looking more relaxed than he had minutes ago. Muriel Prewett tottered forward, clearing her throat. Bella turned to face her, politely. The woman was so old—her wrinkles were deeply carved into her stone-face, the skin around her chin falling low enough to brush against her neck if she bowed her proud neck.

"You say we must adapt," the woman said, far more abrasive than Bella would expect. "How so, Lady Gryffindor? What do you have in store?"

Bella smiled. "All in good time, Lady Prewett. For now, we dine as a unit. We are a team now. Lord Clearwater, would you show us to the dining room?"

Lord Clearwater nodded and led the processional from the parlor and down the modest hall to a large dining room. It was clearly only used for entertaining guests. Bella sat at the head of the heavy wooden table.

"Lady Rosier-Sutter, do sit by my side," Bella instructed. She caught the sneer on Ms. Diggory's face and hid it behind her hand. Greta walked briskly to her side and sat to her left. Bella nearly frowned when Ethelinda went to sit on her other side.

Ethelinda smiled sweetly and sat to her right anyway, immediately turning to whisper to her husband in another language that Bella did not understand. Bella turned to Greta and the woman raised an eyebrow at her.

"I see what you did there," Greta said quietly.

Bella hummed. "What did I do?" she asked, curiously.

"Established yourself. Very clever. You are learning. There was so much power to you before. Power that you didn't know how to use. You're learning," Greta said quietly.

Bella glanced over at her. "You don't know me."

Greta laughed. "I'm old, Bella Potter. All people are the same, just varying versions of each other. I know you."

They sat in companionable silence, digging into their dinner. Bella looked down the long table at Ms. Diggory. The woman looked so much like her son. She was a prim, stiff woman, and unnaturally combative. Bella was sure that the woman had been a Gryffindor.

"Ms. Diggory has a stick jammed right up her arse. It's so far, it may come out of her throat," Bella whispered. Greta smirked. "You think a laxative may cure her?"

"There is no cure for being a cunt," Greta said snakily in Bella's ear.

Bella laughed.

---

The Burrow, St. Ottery's Catchpole, England, Great Britain

Sunday the 5th of September 1999

8:00 AM

"Albus...what are you doing here?" Arthur asked curiously.

"Molly sent me back here. I am sorry that I come so early. But, I must speak with you," the Headmaster said with a twinkle in his electric blue eyes.

"Well, come in. Come in," Arthur said, eyes wide and a frown furrowing his brow. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, and gestured mildly to one of the tall rickety rocking chairs in his workshop.

Albus looked around, utterly charmed by the Muggle knick knacks on the shelves, an open toaster resting in pieces on Arthur's worktable. The Headmaster walked forward and settled himself in the rocking chair. Gently, he rocked back and forth. The motion calmed his ever turning thoughts.

"Ah, Arthur. So many things are happening. The war has begun," Albus sighed, sounding far more tired than he had in ages.

Arthur looked down at her lukewarm tea. "Well, we knew that. That it was coming. Albus, what are you doing here?"

He sounded worn.

"I come to ask of you a very large favor. You could turn the tide of the war," Albus began.

Arthur stiffened and turned his watery blue eyes onto the man. He frowned at him, crossing his arms, but didn't say anything immediately.

"What is it that you want me to do, Albus?" Arthur asked, looking so very tired.

Albus frowned. "I'd like you to solve the problem of Voldemort's identity."

"I'm not following," Arthur said shortly.

"We must know where Grindelwald discovered Voldemort and where Voldemort came from. He is the driving force in this second war, and should be our primary target. Voldemort cannot be his primary identity, and if it is, to discover someone's weaknesses, we must look to their past. I know I can trust you with this task, Arthur," Albus said. He smiled at the other man, and Arthur smiled back, weakly.

"Why me? I don't have the resources," Arthur said.

Albus hummed. "But, you are loyal, and you are intelligent, Arthur. There's no doubt about that. You have access in the Ministry."

"Access that will be restricted if Madame Bones realizes that I am still close with you," Arthur reminded him, pointedly. Albus saw his warning, and he stood from his seat, moving towards the door. Arthur cleared his throat. "Of course, I'll do it, Albus. But, I'd like to know…why not Tom Riddle? Why not Bella?"

Albus frowned. "Tom and Bella have their own agendas. I would not trust them with something like this. Tom has…long been checked out of Order business, enough that I feel he no longer actively wants to support us. Bella is too closely entwined with Voldemort. She is too close to the situation."

"Are you saying you don't trust them?" Arthur asked quietly.

Albus sighed. "I do not."

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Sunday the 5th of September 1999

9:45 AM

"How are you, dear sister?" Dominique said cheerfully as she swept in the room, her midnight blue robes rustling with every movement. She fell into her seat with a smile despite the massive headache that pounded in her brain and the way her stomach turned at the smell of breakfast.

Colette regarded with a raised eyebrow and slowly slid over a Hangover Potion. "Take that," she said.

"Bless you, sister," Dominique said, her smile dropping and she downed the potion. She felt her stomach turn one final violent time and she struggled to keep the potion down. When the bout of nausea passed she smiled brightly, a honest smile now. "Thanks."

"Sure," Colette drawled. "Eat up. I asked the house elves for a fresh baguette and peach jam. And your coffee."

Dominique grinned. "You really are blessed, aren't you?"

"Or rather I'm a good sister," Colette said, her tone flat. "I should really give you detention, you know. You were clearly hungover when you got here, and the staff isn't made of idiots. We know about the Ravenclaw party."

Dominique huffed. "Well, nothing happened. And it's not like I invited anyone. I was just in my common room, enjoying the festivities."

Colette looked at her younger sister for a long time, watching as she enthusiastically tucked in. She spread the peach jam generously on the cut baguette and chomped on it happily, taking sips of coffee in between. Colette sighed. Dominique was adjusting well at Hogwarts, and she seemed so much happier than she had in Beauxbatons. Dominique was excelling, already chosen to participate in Riddle's class, the Ravenclaw Seeker, and had friends.

Friends.

"Mon cher, I see you've made a new friend," Colette began, looking at her sister, meaningfully.

Dominique looked up, grinning around her breakfast. "You mean Ariana? Isn't she great? She's a pretty one, and powerful, and amazing. She'll be a good friend."

"I'm sure she will be," Colette said, soothingly. "Hopefully she'll convince you to stop going bar-hopping and shouting in the streets about these English problems."

Dominique froze. Slowly, she lowered her plate and cup. She frowned at her older sister for a long time. Colette held her gaze, looking over her. She already knew what Dominique was thinking. She knew her sister well. Colette had practically raised the girl.

"English problems? Colette, we live here," Dominique muttered. She took another sip of her coffee, averting her eyes, looking just over Colette's shoulder. She squawked when Colette reached across the table, wrenching her chin so that their eyes would meet again.

"And when it gets bad here, we're going back to France. To Maman and Père. Then, we'll be safe, won't we?" Colette said sharply. She hesitated when Dominique snorted, shaking her head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Colette."

"This isn't your country. This isn't your fight. I know what they call you. What they call us," Colette spat, and Dominique shot up, staring down at her sister with a thunder in those blue eyes.

"Yes, I know what they call me. Immigrant," Dominique said, spitting out the English word like poison. "Yes, I am an immigrant, but this is my home now too. Your home. I love this place, Colette. More than I love France. More than I love Maman's house. I'm not going back. This is my home now. This is my problem."

Colette sighed. "It isn't—"

"It is!" Dominique shouted. She fell into her seat, heavily, her head falling back. She reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Ariana agrees with me. She believes in it too, and she's like us. Immigrant. My friends are affected by this. I can't just run away, Colette. I'm not a coward. You…you didn't raise me to be one."

Colette smiled sadly and she reached forward, cupping her sister's face. She brushed her fingers down that porcelain cheek.

"You're right, sweet girl. But, I'm worried about you. This summer, you were supposed to go visit with Cousin Fleur. Instead you ran off to Diagon Alley with Romilda Vane and Heather Sutter to shout about censorship laws. You're going to get yourself in trouble, mon cher."

Dominique sighed. "Don't worry about me, Colette. I'll be okay. I promise."

Colette wasn't sure if she believed her.

---

The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Sunday the 5th of September 1999

11:14 AM

"This is bullshit!" Romilda roared, throwing down the Prophet on the table.

Ariana leaned forward, eyes narrowed on the front cover. "The fact that the new Firebolt Pro is causing riots and is being advertised as front news? Sure."

"No," Romilda snapped. "Well, yes. That's bullshit. But, the fact that a battle happened last night and they haven't even said anything about it. Voldemort showed up! And Amelia Bones! And Dumbledore! The only ones missing from the damn powwow was Grindelwald and Potter!"

Ariana flinched.

"How do you know something happened?" someone asked.

Romilda spun around to face the nameless seventh year. "Because my mother and father told me. There was a disturbance in the West Country. It's close my house. They realized it was Dark magic—specifically, the Dark Mark."

"Well, if no one's saying anything, then it's better not to worry about it, right?" the seventh year challenged and Heather laughed, mockingly.

"Are you serious? What's wrong with keeping the public well-informed?" Heather snapped.

The seventh year shrugged. "If they aren't telling us, there's a reason. Probably a really good reason. You know, you four always standing up and showing and screaming about this kind of stuff. Why don't you sit down and be quiet for a moment. Think about why they're not telling us."

"Of course we know why," Dominique said, her eyes flashing.

Ariana bit her lower. "Control," she murmured.

"Or protection," the seventh year retorted.

Romilda roared in frustration. "I'm tired of this bullshit!" she shouted. The Three Broomsticks fell silent around her. "If it's about protection or whatever, why are there two Aurors here? You got an answer for that, asshole? I bet you don't! That's why we need the Revolution! We are the Revolution!"

There was a loud snorting sound. The four girls turned to look at one of the Aurors. Ariana faltered when she recognized both of them. Fay Dunbar nodded at her in greeting, but it was Ronald Weasley that caught Ariana's attention. Tall and thin as beanpole, he looked at the four girls with condescending derision.

"What?" Romilda barked. "Why are you laughing about the Revolution?"

Weasley rolled his eyes. He hummed, tapping his wand on the bartop even as Rosemerta glared at where he let sparks singe the tabletop. He ignored her, though he seemed to notice.

"You mean the disturbances that a bunch of teenage girls have been starting in pubs along Diagon and Knockturn Alleys? Right," Weasley snorted. He leaned forward and looked at all of the students as if they should listen to the infinite wisdom he had to offer. "Heed not the little girls that scream revolution. They don't have the people's best interests at heart."

Heather's eyes narrowed. She glanced at Ariana. "Oh my gods, tear this man apart."

Ariana smirked, her eyes calling for blood.

"Chaos and bloodshed are unnecessary. They aren't a solution. Don't let them lead you astray. The Ministry is the way and they're going about everything the right way. Limiting information limits the amount of action and vigilantes on the street," Weasley explained.

Ariana stepped forward.

"Let him be," Dunbar warned.

Ariana ignored her and rolled up her sleeves. Romilda couldn't hide her wicked cackle as Ariana cracked her neck and her fists.

"Vane, since I know you're one of them, you're playing a dangerous game. I pray the Ministry shows you some mercy. I won't show you any if you start something here," Weasley warned her and Romilda looked at him with a falsely innocent look on her face.

"Yo!" Ariana called. Everyone looked at her in surprise and she pushed a pink streak over her ear. "Weasley would have you all unravel but guess what? The Revolution is coming. The have-nots are going to win this. Weasley, by the way, it's really hard for us to listen to you with a straight face."

Weasley turned a blotchy red.

"Chaos and bloodshed is already everywhere. We see it everywhere except in the papers because your Ministry's awful censorship laws. You censor the media, disallowing information from being spread so we can't make an informed choice. You shouldn't even talk," Ariana snapped. "And what about London just the other night? Look at the cost! Look at what we've lost! Because of your Ministry! And you talk about us?"

"You better shut up or I'll—the Minister will hear about this!" Weasley snapped.

Ariana hummed and looked around, interested. "Why? Is he in Honeydukes next door?"

"FOR THE REVOLUTION!" Romilda cried out.

The entertained Hogwarts students repeated after, "FOR THE REVOLUTION!"

Dominique cackled.

"Heed—" Weasley started.

"If you repeat yourself again, I'm going to scream," Ariana warned.

"Not your interests—" Ronald Weasley stammered.

Ariana rolled her eyes. "Why should your tiny government attempt to putting a controlling interest on information that should be common to their own society across wizarding Europe?"

"Ariana, please!" Dunbar shouted.

Fay's eyes widened when Ariana, Romilda, Heather, and Dominique all turned together, glowering over at her with the same haunting magical eyes.

"Dunbar, I'd rather be divisive than indecisive. Drop the niecities for gods' sakes," Ariana snapped.

"Dunbar, let's go," Weasley snarled, storming out, red to the tips of his hair. Dunbar sighed, shaking her head. She went to follow him out and then paused, looking over at Ariana.

"You're going to get yourself killed. You and your friends. Mark my words, Ariana Goranov," Dunbar sighed. She left from the bar, leaving the chattering of a brewing Revolution in her wake.

Ariana watched as Romilda jumped on a table, clearly pleased with the audience Ariana had gathered for her. Romilda crossed her arms, ignoring Rosemerta's squawking.

"No, listen up! The Revolution is coming! You're either with us or against us! There is no middle ground. This is about control," Romilda declared and she looked down at Ariana pointedly.

Ariana stiffened and glanced over at Heather and Dominique. Dominique nodded, encouragingly. Ariana swallowed hard and turned to face them.

"It's about control. But, we must have control ourselves. Control is liberty!"

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Sunday the 5th of September 1999

11:45 PM

Dearest Anthony,

It is a peculiar thing to know your name now. I'm not sure if I should use it, for your become something more than a incorporeal figment of wildest imagination. In my twisted mind, you were unreal—a sensual man that I met at a party once or twice, a party that could be fact or fiction, but never both. Now that I know your name, you are whole, no longer a vision of longing, but something that exists in this tragically beautiful world. I find myself whispering your name allowed, as if speaking it drags you into existence—Anthony. You engross my thoughts too entirely to allow me to think of anything else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again.

Anthony. Dearest Anthony, is it too much? It might be. It consumes me. I find that writing my thoughts makes them more coherent, turns words crippled by nerves into masterpieces. You are a masterpiece, just as broken as my words in reality. Is it too much? Am I too forward? Perhaps, I am. You said to me that when I hear something in my brain telling me to off myself not to open a vein. I have thought of death so many times, it feels like a memory. I think of how I would die and dearest Anthony, I should've died many times over. We are connected by our past experiences, I think. You have lost your mother and I have lost much to blood and a storm. I have dreamt of taking steel to a vein.

I have asked the house elves for lollys instead.

Do you believe in God? Perhaps you do, as you follow the Jewish faith. I knew nothing of it until you told me. I have done research, and I find it admirable to put faith in something higher than one's self. I believes in gods—many gods. Like my Godmother. There are many gods, but I believe that the ultimate God would come out of my love for someone else—a love pure and large, all-consuming, like a meteor shower, like an asteroid ready to set the world aflame. One day, I believe I shall find someone and know that our love is God. And that would be enough. Or perhaps it wouldn't. I've been told that I will never be satisfied by too many before me. I have hurt too much in this life, done too much, to to take that as fact.

Until I hear from you—

Yours,

Ariana G.

---

Azkaban, Unplottable Location, England, Great Britain

Thursday the 9th of September 1999

7:25 PM

Head bent over, the water hit her hair hard. The greasy locks grew darker and she groaned as she felt fingers running over her scalp. Hermione smiled when she felt Blaise's lips against the back of her neck. She let out another groan as he massaged deep into her scalp. Blaise didn't care about her greasy hair, the grey skin, the fact that he could play her ribs. He cleansed her, washing soap down her body and rubbing away the grit and grime.

"I feel like I should wash you too," she muttered.

Blaise snorted. "I wash more often than you. I think I'm fine. You're almost done. Close your eyes. Let me rinse you."

"Almost done? You don't want to have sex?" Hermione asked curiously.

Blaise laughed loudly. "We've done that."

"We made love. It's different, sweetheart," Hermione insisted and she turned to look up at him. She drank him, parched. She took in the cut of his cheekbones, those amber eyes, nearly golden, the plushness of his lips. She brushed a kiss to his jaw, sucking a mark there.

"Really, now, Hermione? I still have to work," he insisted.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "You can heal it, love. Wait, don't. I want your co-workers to ask about it, and then, you'll have to tell them that it was the mad murdering Black witch that did it. Is that what they call me?"

"They don't call you anything except a disappointment," Blaise said honestly. He knew it didn't hurt Hermione's feelings, not like it might have a long time ago. "A waste of talent, they say. The brightest witch of her age, and here she is, wasting away in Azkaban for the rest of her days."

"I still am the brightest witch of our age," Hermione said, so matter-of-factly, that Blaise burst into laughter again. He reached up, brushing the suds from her hair, brushing it from her chest. Quietly, he traced the scar left by her encounter with the sphinx in their second year.

"There's no doubt about that. After all, who else could trap someone in a coma as you did?" Blaise whispered.

Hermione stiffened. She stepped away from him, shaking herself like a wet dog. "I think we're done, don't you?" she asked, keeping her voice bright and chipper.

She stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and rubbed herself dry, uncaring how her skin turned red from the rough treatment. Hermione didn't have to look behind her to know that Blaise stood there. She tossed a towel behind her and continued to dry off her sopping wet hair. Hermione breathed deeply, trying to stop her racing heart.

"Hermione, come on, love," Blaise began.

Hermione spun around, her eyes narrowing. "Why are you asking me about this, Blaise?"

"Until he wakes up, you'll always be known as the girl who went mad enough to send a man into a coma for no reason," Blaise explained. He groaned when he heard her scoff, and she stomped away, naked as the day she was born.

He went after her, slowly, drying himself as he followed her into the sitting area. She was staring at the wall, hands on her hips. Blaise sighed, admiring her and so saddened by her. Hermione was emaciated, and though she ate better than most of the prisoners of Azkaban, there was only so much Draco could do. His behavior towards Hermione was constantly being analyzed. Being locked away in Azkaban was taking its toll on her.

"When are you going to get me out of here?" Hermione whispered.

Blaise frowned. "Soon."

"Soon isn't soon enough. I'm wasting away in here, Blaise," Hermione snapped, spinning around him. And he couldn't help but smile because those chocolate brown eyes still held that fury and fire.

"And we'll get out, my love. And you'll be healthier and stronger. But, I need you to tell me how to wake him up."

"Why?" Hermione snapped.

"Because, when we take control, the people won't trust you. They don't see you as the brightest witch of our age anymore, though that is who you are. They see you as a madwoman with no control," Blaise retorted. Hermione fell silent and groaned. She sat down on the blanket on the couch, and held her hand out to him.

Blaise took her hand and let her guide him onto his back. She snuggled against his side, chest to chest and looked at him with pursed lips.

"Blaise…I did everything I did for a reason," Hermione whispered.

"How do I reverse this, Mione? You have to tell me," Blaise murmured as he finger combed her sopping wet hair. She pressed the length of her skinny body to his front, nuzzling her face against his sharp collarbone.

"Why do you need to know? With Snape out of the way, it makes everything so much easier," Hermione sighed, her lashes fluttering against his skin. The woman laid a kiss to his hot skin and pressed tighter.

Blaise gently tilted her chin up. "Hermione..." he said softly, low and slow, just the way she liked it. He watched the flush spread across her cheeks and he pressed a kiss to her heated skin.

"It was a gift. Why would I ruin your gift?" Hermione asked, her eyes glowing with mischief. Her mile dropped and she looked at him, her eyes frigid. "If you wake him, he will hunt me after you get me out."

"Everyone will hunt you," Blaise said quietly. "May I get a clue at least?"

"You don't need a clue, my love," Hermione said with a small smile. She arched her back, pressing the length of herself even closer to him. She pressed another wet kiss to him and she grinned against his skin when she felt the low groan rumbling in his chest. "I want you to fuck me."

"We just did that. It's why we showered," Blaise laughed quietly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. We made love. I want you to fuck me. Hard and fast. Make me feel alive. Make me burn."

"You want me to burn you and make you feel alive?" Blaise asked as he mouthed against her neck. He pressed his lips to her left breast and swirled in his tongue around a dusky brown nipple. Hermione hiccuped out a moan, squirming against him. Blaise looked up with her and smiled.

"Break me, Blaise. Make me feel whole. Shatter me," Hermione said, her eyes blow and bright with arousal and something else. Blaise kissed his way down her body until he was settled between her legs, staring down at those pretty pink lips.

He parted them with his fingers, thrusting one finger into her. Her back arched as he used his thumb to stroke his clit. Blaise could play her like an instrument. He kissed the jut of her hip.

"B-Blaise! Shatter me. Put the fire out! Put it back together!" Hermione snarled out, and though she was aroused, there was something else in her eyes that made Blaise pull back.

He looked down at her. She stared back.

"What do you mean?" Blaise whispered.

Hermione's dark eyes narrowed into slits and she bared her teeth. "Why do you want to wake him up? Do you want him to kill me?"

"No. Never, bella ragazza."

"Then, why?" Hermione whispered.

Blaise frowned. "I…because I must. It doesn't make sense, but I feel like I must. Cho Chang…she'll figure it out eventually, and I need to be in control when it does happen. It should be me."

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled. "You're a smart man, Blaise. You could've figured it out."

"You are the smartest woman of our generation. I really couldn't."

Hermione laughed. When her laughter tapered out, she looked up at him with a serious look in her eyes.

"Make what was broken whole. Put the fire out. Make it whole. Keep the ashes."

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Saturday the 11th of September 1999

10:00 AM

Dear Ariana,

Meet me at The Three Broomsticks at 1:30 today. We need to talk.

Sincerely,

Anthony

---

Hogsmeade, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Saturday the 11th of September 1999

1:35 PM

"You're here."

Anthony stared at the girl, a Butterbeer clutched between her hands. She wasn't surrounded by the gaggle of obnoxious, mysterious girls that Anthony couldn't stand. She looked beautiful, the pink fading from her streaked platinum hair. Her eyes were bright and she was grinning. Anthony lifted the piece of parchment and waved it.

"I invited you here. To talk about this," Anthony added and Ariana's lips curled into a wider smile. He slid down into the booth, just across from her and she pushed a Butterbeer towards him. He opened it on the edge of the table and took a long pull, refreshed.

"What do you want to talk about?" Ariana asked, grinning at him. Anthony nearly groaned. He had never seen a look like that on a girl before in reaction to him and it was just his luck that that girl would be this beautiful young girl he had sworn to protect.

"You're a very talent writer, Ariana. Like…hell, you're amazing," Anthony breathed, and he was being honest.

He had been blown away by this girl's words, especially when she seemed to awkward and crude in person.

"Thanks. I…writing has always gotten me what I wanted because I can't really articulate out loud, you know. I mean, I'm learning, but it's hard," Ariana explained and Anthony nodded, because he did understood. He was an awkward son of a bitch too.

"Yeah, it's gorgeous writing. But, there's…a problem," he said, slowly.

Ariana frowned, biting her lower lip. "Can we…can we talk about it later? The problem. Let's talk about something else."

"That's really not an option," Anthony sighed. "I'm working today. I'm on my lunch break. So, this has to be quick."

Ariana frowned. "Where do you work?"

"Doesn't matter," Anthony said shortly.

"Anthony—" Ariana began with a small smile.

"I'm too old for you," Anthony said sharply.

Ariana's smile froze and dropped away. "Then…why were you flirting with me?" Ariana muttered under her breath, staring down at her Butterbeer.

Anthony's gaze softened and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He pressed his thumb to the leather cuff around his wrist and thought of Bella and the oath that he had made to her.

"It's…Ariana, you're a beautiful girl. I've always had a weakness for pretty girls," Anthony said, attempting to joke. It fell flat when he realized that the luck on her Ariana's face was a mix of humiliation and annoyance.

"Don't…fine, whatever. It's fine."

It wasn't fine.

Anthony sighed. "We can still be friends, right? I like your letter. We can keep writing and I can visit, can't I?"

"You know, you've gone out of your way, a lot, for someone that doesn't want me like that," Ariana snapped, and Anthony froze.

"Yeah, well, just because I don't want to fuck you, doesn't mean I don't think you're interesting," Anthony retorted. Ariana's lips curled into a smile despite herself. "I do really want to be your friend, Ariana."

"A lot of times, friends become more," Ariana said pointedly.

Anthony sighed, shaking his head. "Okay, Ariana. Whatever you say."

"Don't do that," Ariana snapped.

"Don't do what?" Anthony demanded.

Ariana's hands squeezed into fists. "Don't dismiss my feelings, you fucking asshole."

"Look, this is some kinda hero worship or something because I saved you from those dicks last week," Anthony said, reaching out to touch her fist. He hissed in pain, pulling her fingers back. Ariana looked up in shock, a flush rushing to her face. Anthony looked down at his reddened fingertips and cursed under his breath.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," Ariana whispered.

She tried to touch him again and Anthony flinched back. She looked at him, wounded.

"No, no, it's fine. What the hell was that?" Anthony asked, reaching out to grab her wrist. Relief rushed through him when he wasn't burned again.

"I don't know. When I get mad, my skin runs hot."

"Understatement," Anthony snorted.

Ariana snorted out a laugh. Anthony's smile grew. It was a cute laugh. He groaned. He knew when he was pushing it. He stood. Ariana frowned.

"Where are you going?" she asked, quietly.

"I have to get back to work."

He grabbed his Butterbeer, toasting it to her. Ariana stood up sharply and grabbed his wrist as he went to turn away from her.

"Were you serious? About us being friends?" Ariana asked, looking down at where her skin touched his. "I don't really have male friends."

"Nothing wrong with surrounding yourself with girls," Anthony admitted. "A lot of my friends are girls."

He knew immediately that was the wrong thing to say. Ariana's eyes narrowed.

"You still got that sorta girlfriend?" she demanded.

Anthony shrugged. "Not really. I got dumped, actually."

Ariana's face softened. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Not your fault she led me on. Not her fault either. Look, I really have to go now, okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, okay," Ariana whispered, dropping his wrist.

"Write to me. Write to me all your thoughts. Your thoughts are beautiful," Anthony admitted.

"Really?" Ariana asked, her eyes bright.

Anthony nodded.

"Yeah. Especially, the stuff about your love being God. That was really deep. I would want a love like that too. I think most people would," Anthony said.

"You ever saw a love like that?" Ariana asked.

Anthony nodded. "I think so. Maybe three: the love my mom had for me, the love my friend Bella has for Tom Riddle, and the love she has for…well, forget it," Anthony said, a teasing glint in his eyes. He watched her freeze, and he winked at her. Ariana felt a chill run up her spine and she nodded.

"You really think that she…forget it," Ariana said. She looked down at the tabletop, at her clenched fists until she felt a hand tilt her chin up and she looked into Anthony's eyes again.

"I really do," he promised. He backed away from her and winked again. "See you around, Ariana. I'll write."

Ariana fell back into her seat, her eyes never leaving him until he disappeared from her sight. She closed her eyes and let out a soft sound.

"God, Ariana. Drool much," Romilda drawled.

Ariana looked down at her lap, her face hot and shame washing over her. She felt someone tuck themselves into her side, and an arm was thrown across her shoulders. Ariana looked up, expecting it to be Dom. She faltered when she saw that it was Romilda. Romilda didn't look down at her.

"I am sorry zat 'appened," Dominique murmured, reaching forward to grip one of Ariana's hands between her own.

"That guy seems like a dick," Heather added. "You're not too young."

Ariana huffed. "But…he's not. Not really. Gods, I can't believe you saw that! I was already so fucking embarrassed. Of course you had to be there," she groaned, shaking her head.

Romilda's eyes narrowed on her. "Of course we had to be here. For you. We don't know him. We weren't gonna let you meet with some strange guy. You're going to have to learn something, Ariana. If you're going to be one of us, you're gonna have to learn that we protect each other. No matter what."

---

Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain

Sunday the 12th of September 1999

2:22 PM

Ariana moved quietly. She had escaped Dominique, Heather, and Romilda when she felt her on the grounds. Ariana thought that maybe Romilda realized, because her nostrils had flared and she had cut a look over at Ariana. Ariana had quietly excused herself, and wandered down the gently sloping hills to where the green grass was interrupted by the Forbidden Forest. Ariana stared up at the towering black tree trunks. The sun didn't penetrate the Forbidden Forest, and just being near the forest sucked the life out of her.

"What are you doing here?" Ariana said, because she was so tired of shouting.

Bella stepped forward, but only as far as the shadows allowed her to. She reached out.

"I miss you so, so much, Ariana," Bella said honestly.

Ariana huffed. "You shouldn't have lied to me."

"I do everything I do for a reason. I was trying to protect you," Bella insisted and she smoothed down a strand into her perfect knot and sighed, shaking her head.

"What do you mean?" Ariana asked.

"I was younger than you when I first commanded soldiers. Not much younger, but younger," Bella said quietly, and Ariana kept herself away from the shadows, her eyes guarded. She looked like a cornered animal and it made Bella's heart hurt. "I led them straight into a massacre. Nearly witnessed all of their deaths in the Department of Mysteries. I made every mistake, blinded by rage and grief and hurt. I was so selfish. Now, all I feel is shame. Even now, I lie awake, knowing that history has its eyes on me."

Ariana stared at her for a long moment, searching for the words she wanted to ask.

"Why are you telling me this?" Ariana asked quietly.

Bella took a step forward and when Ariana let out a choked sound, she flinched back.

"Because I want you to know why I do the things I do," Bella said.

"I don't want your explanations," Ariana snapped. "I know that history watches you and its going to see you for what you really are."

She was shocked when Bella shrugged and gave small, sad smile.

"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control of who lives, who dies, who tells your story," Bella said and she smiled brightly down at Ariana, though she was so very sad. "I cursed Dumbledore because he was doing terrible things, and I had no idea it would affect you. But, it has, and so, you are written into the narrative."

"The narrative?" Ariana questioned.

"I know that I can win…if you join. Greatness lies in you, Ariana, and it's due to your mother. It's always because the mother," Bella muttered to herself and she looked back up at Ariana and smirked. "Greatness lies in you. But, remember, that history has its eyes on you too now. You're part of the narrative of the world now."

---

St. Mungo's, London, England, Great Britain

Tuesday the 14th of September 1999

2:15 PM

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Healer Strauss asked and though Bella couldn't sense any judgment in his voice, she felt as if he were judging her all the same. Bella sighed, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry," Bella apologized.

Healer Strauss leaned back in his chair, looking down at his notepad. "Are you?"

"Uh. Not really. I've been busy," Bella explained. Healer Strauss raised an eyebrow.

"Busy. Doing what?" he asked.

Bella sighed. "War is so much more complicated than I thought, Healer. There's so much politicking and so much waiting."

"Yes, well," Healer Strauss said dismissively. Bella grinned. She appreciated that the man didn't make a big deal about the fact that she was planning a coup. "What made you decide to finally come to your standing Tuesday appointment?"

"I was actually going to visit my brother. Blaise. But, then, I passed the signs and I felt guilty," Bella admitted. And then she frowned. "Also, I'm paying for appointments that I don't go to, and yeah, I have the money, but now that I'm an 'adult', I am so tired of paying for shit."

Healer Strauss threw back his head and laughed. Bella grinned at the man.

"Valid point," Healer Strauss said. "How have you been?"

"Okay. Busy. Not okay, too. Look, I really haven't missed that many. I only stopped coming in, like, July," Bella said defensively and she rolled her eyes at Healer Strauss' amusement.

The man snorted. "It's September, Bella. But, tell me why you've missed all of your appointments."

"I met a girl," Bella whispered.

Healer Strauss blinked. "I didn't know you held any sexual attraction—"

"Shut the fuck up," Bella cackled. "No, not like that. I met a girl earlier this year that I didn't tell you about. Her name is Ariana, and she is everything."

"Everything? Don't tell me you're putting all your value in another person," Healer Strauss and Bella laughed, shaking her head.

"No. I'm not. It's just…I love this girl, Strauss. Love her. She's so much like how I used to be. Wild and brash and so, so lonely. I want to take care of her. She reminds me of Tom too. All the good things about him. None of the bad. And she's powerful," Bella explained, growing more and more excited as she spoke about Ariana. Healer Strauss gave a small smile.

"Well, what does that have to do with you missing your appointments?" Healer Strauss asked.

Bella's smile fell away. "Well, I damned her."

---

St. Mungo's, London, England, Great Britain

Tuesday the 14th of September 1999

2:00 PM

And somewhere else in St. Mungo's, Blaise looked down at the prone body of the man that his love had put into a deep sleep. He coughed hard again before looking over at the expectant faces of Chang and Healer Radbury. Blaise nodded to them before lifting his wand.

"Wait," Healer Radbury called. Blaise paused. "What exactly are you doing?"

"What she told me: 'Make what was broken whole. Put the fire out. Make it whole. Keep the ashes.'"

Chang's eyes narrowed on him. There was something vaguely different about her, but Blaise pushed that from his mind. He had to focus on the task at him. He raised his hand, waving it intricately for the tinkered diagnostics spell. He thanked Anthony and Michael in head again. Spell Manipulation was not his forte.

"What does that mean exactly?" Chang asked. "And why didn't you keep me updated?"

"Hermione wasn't going to tell me anything if she knew you were involved. She still holds a grudge against you for what you did to Bella in our fourth year," Blaise said, his lips curling. He knew that it had been years since the skin incident, but he could never forget the look of pain on Bella's face as her skin blistered and burned away.

"Well, you should've kept me updated, Blaise. Now, explain what you're doing," Healer Radbury said sternly and Blaise sighed.

He couldn't wait until the day he didn't have to answer to anyone anymore.

"Look at my diagonstics. It's red. For burns. Yes, I know he doesn't have any burns, but he's burning on the inside. He's still in pain. He's still feeling the spell from two years ago," Blaise explained. Chang gasped, horrorstricken. Even Healer Radbury looked repulsed.

"If he's suffered all this time, then waking him now could break his mind," Healer Radbury muttered.

Chang shook her head, her hand still held her to mouth. "How could you still love someone that would do something like that?"

"She wasn't sane at the time," Blaise said dismissively.

Chang frowned. "But, she's sane now. She's been sane for a while, right? Why didn't say anything?" Chang demanded.

Blaise frowned. "Shut up. Don't talk about her or my personal life, Chang. You don't know anything about her, not really. Now, the pain is all psychological. I'm very adept at mind magic. If I cast Legilimency, I can circumvent his Occlumency shields and put out the burning. I think the coma is both a defense mechanism and the so-called 'punishment'. He is using all of his magic to keep the burning at bay. If it's a psychological attack, that means she's used mind magic. His Occlumency shields are running strong because he's not dead yet. I know that if I go in, use my own magic to hold back the burning while simultaneously healing him."

Blaise waited for Healer Radbury to process his information dump. She muttered to herself as she reviewed the facts and looked down at Severus Snape's sallow face.

"And what do you think his mental state will be when he wakes up?" Chang challenged. Healer Radbury nodded in agreement. Blaise resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he saw Chang preen from Healer Radbury's approval.

"Severus Snape is probably one of the most powerful Occlumens in the world besides Dumbledore, Voldemort, Grindelwald…and me. He'll be shaken, probably need a lot of physical and psychological therapy. But, I think that he's kept the burning at bay enough that his mind won't be too tattered, and I could mend it, if need be," Blaise insisted.

Healer Radbury crossed her arms. "That's unnecessarily invasive. The mind should be healed on its own, Blaise. You can't always go in and fix it. You'd weave too much of yourself in the fabric of their minds. You understand?"

Blaise paused. He frowned as he considered the woman's words. Blaise was an expert Legilimens, but he had never considered what he was doing when he went into a person's mind. But, now that he thought on it, he could still feel tendrils of Sirius Black and Rabastan Lestrange in the back of his mind. It was an odd feeling. And then he remembered: Keep the ashes. So, though Blaise had not known, his Hermione had. His lips twitched and he suppressed his smile.

"I…I understand, Healer. May I proceed with the healing?" Blaise asked. He waited for Healer Radbury to finally nod, fully consenting and he grinned at her. She looked vaguely charmed by his smile and only made him smile wider. He turned his back on Chang, feeling smug.

"You're just going to do Legilimency? Are you sure that's wise?" Chang demanded.

Healer Radbury hushed the young woman as Blaise settled in the man's bedside chair and took out his wand, frowning down at Severus. "Blaise is a very, very skilled Legilimens, Cho. It was one of the first things I learned about him when accepting him into the program. Now, let him concentrate and do his work.

Cho's eyes narrowed on the other man as he reached forward with one hand and pulled up the comatose man's eyelids. Snape's black eyes stared blankly at the ceiling until Blaise leaned over him and rasped, "Legilimens."

Cho winced as Blaise froze entirely, so frozen that it didn't seem like he was breathing. His eyes didn't move from Snape's. He didn't even blink, only staring. Cho wondered how he could be doing anything when he was barely even. But, still, she could feel the humming of magic at work. She wondered if this was the magic of Apollo, the Horseman of the Plague? Eddie had warned her about this one, and Cho couldn't imagine that he was using his powers for good if he was as Dark as Eddie told her he was. Prudentia said that Apollo was evil too. They couldn't both be lying to her. Eddie was her brother, and Prudentia was her reflection, was her past memories—they wouldn't lie.

And yet, this man, Apollo, was voluntarily helping people, Healing people, instead of spreading plague. It was disconcerting.

Suddenly, Blaise fell back into his chair, gasping. Sweat poured down his face profusely and he wheezed. Healer Radbury rushed to his side and pounded on his back as Blaise coughed, long and hard. Cho stared in fascination as blood splattered down his chin and he wiped it away with his bright yellow sleeve, nearly the ivory of an actual certified Healer, just like her robes.

"Are you alright?" Cho asked. "What happened?"

Blaise struggled to stand and sat on the edge of Snape's bed again. "Look at the patient," he wheezed quietly before finally getting his coughing fit under control.

Cho looked down at the patient in wonder. Severus Snape blinked once. Then twice.

And in a voice, cracked and whispery from years of disuse, he called out, "Bella Potter."

:::

A/N: Some of you may recognize the aesthetics Ariana, Romilda, Heather, and Dominique have. It's very Heathers-esque, to be honest. If you've never seen the movie, I really advise that you do. It's so fucking amazing. There's also lots of Hamilton. Sorry, not sorry. I saw it and it killed me and resurrected me. It is in my consciousness. Actually, part of Ariana's letter to Anthony was written by Alexander Hamilton to his wife, Eliza. I'm not that talented unless I really, really try, and this is fanfiction. This shit I write for fun. Anyway, I should be updating more often because I the next three chapter partly written or very heavily outlined. I have most of the rest of this story heavily outlined, actually.

Next Chapter: Snape. Samhain. Mothers.