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 XXVII
Sofia, Bulgaria, Europe
Svetlana was alone.
She had never been alone before. She had always had Stasya and her father. And when she didn't have Stasya anymore, she and her father had gotten on as best they could without her. Svetlana was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with something like that. Even at Durmstrang, surrounded by all of those students, she felt so utterly alone. Svetlana Goranov was alone.
She was the bastard orphan. She had no one. She could not afford Durmstrang, not without her father's steady salary. Svetlana wasn't sure what to do. She had always had someone to guide her, and now she had no one except for a mother that couldn't even afford to have her sent over to England. Svetlana closed her eyes and thought about the mother that had given her up—abandoned her—when she was only a baby. Svetlana sneered.
She did not want to meet that woman.
And yet, she didn't want to be alone. If there was anything she was more afraid of than meeting Raina, it was being alone. After all, Raina wasn't really her mother. When she was thirteen, her real mother—though maybe not by blood—had died, holding her. And she remembered Stasya well. Stasya always smiled. Stasya always told her to write her little heart out.
Svetlana froze.
She looked around the library and swallowed hard as she ripped out a piece of parchment, digging in her satchel for an inkwell and quill. When Svetlana found she was looking for, she nodded to herself. She smoothed the parchment, ironing out the creases. Svetlana took a deep breath, and when she exhaled; she felt the pressure of her lungs bursting from her chest.
She'd write her way out.
Svetlana Goranov was many things, but she was not cruel. Her circumstances had made her closed off and stony faced, but never cruel. She worked hard but was always alone, but loneliness bred only courage. So when her prayers to the gods were only met with indifference, she picked up her quill, and wrote her own deliverance.
She'd write her way out.
I take up my quill to give you an imperfect account of one of the most dreadful lives that memory or any records whatever can trace, which happened here in the heart of Bulgaria.
This life began with a violence, born into theworld, washed with blood and hatred. Born to a mother that raged upon her the moment eyes were set. She was abandoned to the world without another thought, a mother crawling back to a wretched country awash with rain, rain to wash the memories of the Unwanted away. A father found her, and named her Svetlana Goranov. The first because her presence was a blessing, the last because the lineage and blood above all. And this girl, Svetlana Goranov, lost everything but her name.
I take up my quill to tell you my story, for this is my deliverance.
Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain
Sunday the 31st of October 1999
11:32 PM
She paced the length of Tom's office, trembling, her mind still on the scene she had been witnessed to before she had to run. Bella had wanted nothing more than to run to Ariana's crumpled body, but instead she had run to the Forbidden Forest and Disapparated. She had realized her mistake nearly immediately and Disapparated back with her Invisibility Cloak in hand. She snuck back into the chaotic castle, ignoring the whispers and gossip of what had happened to the transfer student. The teachers were running around, trying to figure everything out, and that had been Bella's chance. She had ducked through the shadows to Tom's office and waited, sequestered away and warded. Nagini hissed soothingly at her, but Bella only wanted to vomit. Compulsively, she stroked the line of Sasha's body, her familiar curled up around her neck.
"Your snakeling lives. Why do you fuss?" Sasha questioned, and Bella could not find it in herself to explain to her simple snake that surviving was not the same as living—Bella knew that better than anyone, really.
Instead, she thought about Ariana on the ground, her eyes closed, her chest barely breathing. Romilda Vane had nearly vaulted over the Gryffindor table, tripping over benches to get to her side. She had neatly crashed over the Ravenclaw table as she had stepped onto the table and fell, but she hadn't cared about her bloody knee. Her singular goal was to reach Ariana's side, with Heather Sutter and the Delacour girl not far behind her. Two little girls skittered over as well, but Romilda ignored them, screaming for help even though the professors were rushing forward, waving their wands. The Gryffindor has sniffed at the air and roared with rage.
Bella twitched when she felt her wards slowly being dismantled and she pulled forth her holly wand immediately and threw her Invisibility Cloak around her. She was thrumming with power, all the Deathly Hallows on her person and she waited with narrowed eyes and baited breath.
"Anya?"
The quiet hiss made Bella sigh in relief. She dropped her Cloak, the silver liquid cloth piling at her feet and she threw herself forward, grabbing at him desperately. Bella tried to swallow her sobs, but aching, horrible noises croaked out of her anyway. She pressed her face to his chest and Tom's arms wrapped around her, crushing her to him.
"Anya, please…do not weep. Anya…" he whispered.
"What…what happened to her? Where is she?" Bella rasped and Tom ran his hands over her back, attempting to calm her. Only when her breath steadied did Tom decide to form an answer.
"They've taken her to St. Mungo's. I think Dumbledore knew what had happened. He entirely skipped over a stay in the Infirmary. He thinks it's serious enough that she needs to be in a real ward. They'll keep her healthy. She'll be okay until we find a solution," Tom said reassuringly and Bella nodded, attempting to steel herself from her rocky emotions and the problem she had created with her own foolishness.
Bella pulled away from Tom and took a deep, steadying breath. "Okay…okay…what happens now?" she murmured.
Tom frowned. He pulled out his pocket watch and shook his head.
"It's nearly midnight. We have to perform the Samhain ritual," Tom muttered.
Bella frowned. "Ariana is in a coma and you want to perform the Samhain ritual? Really?"
"The world does not revolve around your beastie, Bella. I hope you realize that," Tom snapped, irritated.
Bella sighed, nodding. "I know. I know…."
"Good. Come on," Tom snapped, and Bella nodded. She took a deep breath, gathering herself before she straightened and turned to her husband, nodding again, steeling herself.
Tom wrapped his arms around Bella and then they were doused in the shadows, travelling towards the Chamber of Secrets. When they emerged, Bella looked around. It was already set up. The silver unicorn blood glistened, drawn into the shape of the great pentacle, the holy symbol. Tom conjured the five candles once more and Bella took them from him in silence. The silence reigned as she placed the candles for Spirit, Water, Earth, Fire, and Air. When they all stood at a point, a flare of magic passed through the grand Chamber, and the candles were lit.
Bella shivered, her stomach turning with nausea. Tom frowned.
"What's wrong with you?" he demanded.
"N-nothing. Just a little ill, I think. I'm thinking about…no. This is what we're focused on," Bella said instead, pushing thoughts of Ariana out of her mind once more.
Tom nodded. "Are you ready?"
Bella swallowed. "Ready." She centred herself, and raised her hands above her head, before bringing them down again.
"Magic, we invoke your power!" Tom called.
"M-magia, tuum invocamus," Bella stammered and she felt her sight swimming, dark spots appearing as the flare of magic began to build. She tossed her head back.
When she was younger, she had thought this was pure, unadulterated power, but now, older, she could see that this was Darkness. Beautiful magic, but still Darkness, and it made her stomach turn now.
"Air, awaken and shred the barrier—" Tom began, stepping into the circle that he had created.
And then Bella felt agony.
"What...I can't be here," Bella said, her body shaking. Bile roiled in her stomach, rising in her throat, threatening to make her choke in revulsion. Tom spun around, frowning as Bella refused to enter the circle.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Bella shook, tears burning her eyes. "I can't call...I can't...I can't be here. It burns. It's not...it's not in my nature anymore. I can't. I wish I could, but I can't."
She spun and hacked. White bile spilled onto the floor and she convulsed, her eyes bulging as the Dark magic battered at her body, twisting her this way and that. Bella fell to her knees and crawled towards the entrance even as she stopped to vomit more white bile. Her eyes stung and she gasped for air.
There was so far to go. She squeezed her eyes shut and Disapparated, reappearing in Paimpont Forest next to Merlin's Tomb. She gasped, her side twinging with a terrible pain, but it was less than the agony that she had felt before. Bella put her hand to her side and came away with slick blood. She gasped and stood up, pressing her head to the cool stone. It was holy here. The only place that the Darkness could not fully spread to. She would deal with being Splinched soon…later.
Bella gasped and let out a horrible, heart wrenching sob. It was an ugly sob that tore on her throat. It felt good.
She screamed again, white bile flying from her lips onto the dirt ground. Bella screamed until her face turned red and the pain in her side grew until it hurt like she had hurt in the Chamber of Secrets. Bella threw her head back and let out a high-pitched whistle. She slid into a crouch, leaning back against the stone as she waited for Nikita to come collect her.
She only needed to wait minutes until the great black beast emerged from the forest into the clearing. He trotted up to her and bumped her head with his horn. Bella let out a weak laugh and she reached up, allowing him to help her rise to her feet. Bella pulled herself up, gasping in pain and she hunched over.
"Vodi, Kita. I'm...hurt," Bella rasped.
Nikita let out a soft nicker and Bella leaned forward, loosely hanging out as he raced through the forest back to Emrys' Cyrchfan. As she drew farther away from the holy place, the pain grew and her stomach began to turn again. She whined in pain and Nikita galloped faster.
When they emerged at Emrys' Cyrchfan, Luna stood there with Draco, Hermione, and Blaise flanking her. Bella couldn't even find it in herself to hate the Elvish woman. She slumped forward as Nikita came to a stop before her. Luna reached up and pulled her from unicorn and Draco picked her up immediately, cradling her against his chest.
"Nikita can be left to pasture for a bit," Luna said sharply. She turned to Blaise. "Get Dittany and a restorative potion. She tried to do the Samhain ritual. It didn't work."
Draco followed after Blaise as he led them to one of the sitting rooms and Luna frowned down at Bella as she walked next to Draco and Hermione.
"Merry meet, Luna," Bella rasped. Luna nearly laughed.
"Merry meet, Angel," she murmured, sliding two of her long fingers down Bella's cheek as they turned into the sitting room. Draco deposited Bella slowly onto the sofa and kneeled before her. Hermione groaned, sitting down next to her, pulling Bella's head into her lap.
"You idiot," Draco muttered, shaking his head as Blaise rifled through his bag, searching for the potions.
Hermione snarled. "Are you a wizard or aren't you, Blaise? Use your wand!"
"Oh…fuck, Accio."
The two vials flew from his bag and grabbed both in his hand, rushing to Bella's side. He opened the vials, prying Bella's mouth open and poured both down her throat. Bella nearly choked at the vile taste, and shuddered as the magic of the potions did their work, spreading warmth through her body and she could feel the skin knitting itself back together. She took shallow breaths, closing her eyes as she came fully into herself. When she opened her eyes, she looked up at Luna gave a sad smile.
"I nearly killed her," Bella murmured.
Luna knelt down, so graceful in her lavender and neon yellow robes. "But, you didn't. You've saved her."
"She's unconscious. I haven't saved her," Bella muttered. "I cursed her into a sleep like death."
"A sleep like death is better than death, isn't it?" Luna demanded and Bella's lips twitched into a tiny smile and she nodded, sighing.
"I'm sorry…I don't hate you. I love you," Bella whispered.
Luna leaned forward, grabbing Bella's hand between her own and pressed a kiss to the cold appendage, right over her scars.
"I know, Bella. I know."
Bella tried to sit up and fell back weakly into Hermione's lap. Hermione cursed under her breath and brushed her hair away from Bella's pale face.
"I'm tired of being kept in the dark. You have to tell us now," Draco spat angrily. Bella looked at Luna with fear and slowly Luna nodded. Bella swallowed hard and turned back to Draco.
"She's…this girl that I am teaching. Tom was teaching her and I thought they were having an affair. But, they weren't, and I met her, and she made me…I wanted to teach her because she reminds me of me. And I doomed her with a faulty Curse or Deal. Whatever it was that I did. But, I can't let her die. Please, Draco. I love her like she's my blood," Bella plead and she looked at her all siblings, searching their gazes for understanding. She only saw condemnation in Draco's steel eyes, and pity in Hermione's. Blaise remained impassive, staring at her.
"I am your blood," Draco snarled.
Bella nodded. "But, it's—"
"Bella Potter…lover of only herself. Do you recall that we are siblings?" Draco whispered, her voice trembling. He snarled at her. "You never cared. Now you will."
Bella sat up, breathing hard as she glared at her brother. "Draco Malfoy, you know nothing about my life. All I am is what I do. Don't do this, brother. I'll fight you."
Draco threw his head back and let out a cruel laugh. "Angel, you can't even stand, and I'm the stronger one today. It's Samhain and you are Light. The Darkness reigns tonight."
Draco pulled forth his wand and Bella did the same, raising the Elder Wand towards him. She stumbled off the couch even as Hermione tried to pull her back down and Blaise stepped between them. Draco didn't flinch, never moving his gaze from Bella's.
"Draco… my blood brother… my first brother… don't make me fight you. Not over this. Not over her," Bella whispered, weakly. Draco's gaze never lessened.
"What is she to you? That you would sacrifice EVERYTHING WE'VE FOUGHT FOR!" Draco roared, his voice booming in the sitting room. Bella looked at him helplessly and she stumbled forward again, trying to keep her wand raised.
"She is the Dawn at the end of the Long Night. Draco, I love her. I love her. As much as I love you, don't make me choose between you two, because if I do…I'll choose her. In this world, you have me, and Mione and Blaise and Luna and your parents and Hydra. In this world, she has no one. In this world, she is who I was… who I could've been… she is Tom... she is me. Don't make me give her up, please don't make me" Bella begged and she let her wand drop to the floor as she staggered towards him, pushing past Blaise.
Draco stood still as stone as Bella wrapped her arms around his neck and let out a terrible sob, clutching tightly to him. She hung onto him, soaking his robes with salt tears. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, holding his sister close.
Goldstein & Corner Flat, London, England, Great Britain
Monday the 1st of November 1999
1:25 AM
Dear Ariana,
My words could never be as beautiful as yours, but I'll make an earnest attempt anyhow. This is your first day asleep, and I'm sure you must be lonely. I thought that perhaps I could write you a letter for every day that you rest. I'm not sure if I would ever give them you. I would not want to encourage something that can't happen. But, you are my friend and I know that Blaise says that you must be awake. You are trapped and awake, and I wish that I could keep you company, alas I can't.
I don't know what else to say to you. Hopefully I'll have more to say tomorrow.
Yours,
Anthony
Hogsmeade, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain
Sunday the 7th of November 1999
1:20 PM
Astoria looked at the gates, through the outpouring of students. She spotted the trio—red, blue, and green—and couldn't help but think that they looked so incomplete without their yellow, without Ariana. Astoria hummed, staring up at the overcast sky. She had not spoken to Ariana in some time, having been ignored for new, more exciting friends, but she still mourned her. Christine still hadn't come back, and she still hadn't responded to her letters, but Astoria was used to being ignored.
She continued to search and she paused when her eyes fell on the dark haired woman that waited just outside the gates. Astoria ran faster, slipping between packs of children and wrapped her arms around her mother immediately. Gwendoline hugged her back tightly, whispering Welsh words of endearments. It was music to Astoria's ears.
"Oh, Mother, I've missed you," Astoria said against the woman's chest and Gwendoline smiled down at her, nodding.
"And I've missed you, Tori. Come now. I'd like to spend time with you," Gwendoline whispered as she clutched Astoria to her body. Astoria didn't want to let her go, trembling. She wanted to break down and cry, but she couldn't. Not with everyone surrounding them, watching them.
Astoria pulled back and forced a smiled.
"Tea?" Astoria asked and Gwendoline nodded. The two Greengrass women linked arms and walked towards the teashop. Madam Puddifoot's was a frilly vomit of a teashop, but it was the only tea shop around. Astoria opened the door for her mother and Gwendoline walked in as if it was an extravagant manor.
"How are you doing, Tori?" Gwendoline asked as they found a table separate from the sappy teenagers mooning over cups of tea and coffee.
"I… I miss Daphne. I miss Christine. I miss you and Father. How…how are you and Father?" Astoria asked as she browsed through the tea menu. She didn't miss the lost look on her mother's face and she looked up at her with a frown.
"Your father…and I are not seeing eye to eye."
"As usual, then," Astoria said bitingly and when her mother gave her a look, she looked down. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
"But, not untrue," Gwendoline murmured. "Your father is renovating the ballroom. He has tired of the flooring and he has decided to rehaul our entire china collection. He is currently at the family vault, picking decorations."
Astoria sighed, shaking her head. "He's angry about something, is he?"
"Your sister's disappearance," Gwendoline said flatly. "Daphne is his Heir. She was meant to be a Potions Mistress. She has the talent. Instead, she put aside her duties and Apprenticeship to gallivant across the world. First, with her soon to be betrothed, and now she leaves him here with little explanation. And she does not respond to letters. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was dead."
Astoria squirms, looking at her tea menu carefully and avoiding her mother's knowing gaze. Daphne wasn't purposely being irresponsible or selfish. She was attempting to make the world a better place-Daphne was more noble and good then the entire Greengrass line. Yet, that was not what the Greengrass line stood for. They were Neutral, through and through.
Astoria knew that Bella stood for Neutrality. Bella had promised to help the Neutral people and Astoria believed her. Though she had yet to see results, Bella continued to write her letters telling her about her sister's safety and whereabouts while promising time and again that she would find a solution for the terrified young students of Hogwarts. She promised. But, for the Greengrasses Neutrality meant doing nothing.
"Mother, she will turn up. Daphne always does. She's just… flighty," Astoria murmured and Gwendoline huffed, rolling her eyes.
"If she isn't careful, your Father will make you his Heir."
Astoria froze. "Please… no. Mother, don't."
Gwendoline said nothing for a long time before sitting back and munching on the stale biscuits from the bowl that sat on the table. She looked at Astoria seriously, and Astoria is struck by how much she looks like the person Astoria sees in the mirror. "I'm not saying things in jest, Astoria. Consider my words carefully. Daphne has been drifting and she is showing less and less interest in this family and our long-maintained neutrality. At this age, she should be taking up more responsibility. Instead, she runs."
"I… I know. But, Mother, I can't. I can't be his Heir. I don't want this. I don't want to have to marry a man and—"
"We would never make you do that," Gwendoline said seriously, grabbing her daughter's hands.
Astoria was struck by how grave and distressed Gwendoline appeared.
"Wouldn't you? It is… expected," Astoria said stiffly.
Gwendoline shook her head, looking painful and stiff. "I would not murder your heart, my darling," she said and then she pulled forth her wand and two tiny vials. One held a swirling gas already that Gwendoline pushed across the table.
Gwendoline touched her wand to her temple and pulled forth the viscous gas that was a memory and let it fall into the second vial and stoppered it.
"What is this?" Astoria murmured, staring at the two vials presented to her. She knew what memories looked like and they swirled ominously in the crystal.
"The answer to your question," Gwendoline whispered. "Dear heart, I hope… for your sake… that your sister returns soon. Soon, it may be too late. Days and days…"
Astoria's mother trailed off, and she looked into the distant for a long time. Astoria swallowed hard and swiftly changed the subject. They ordered tea and spoke of lighter things. Astoria didn't think to mention to her mother that her friend was trapped in a coma for some strange reason. She didn't dwell on Christine's disappearance. She didn't dwell on the cold distance between her mother and father, the answer resting in her lap, the two vials pulsing.
Gwendoline walked her to Hogwarts when they were finished and ended her visit with a swift kiss to Astoria's forehead. Astoria clung to her mother, burying her face in her shoulder, trembling.
"Mother…I can't…" Astoria whispered. Gwendoline hugged her twice as hard and pulled away, staring at her with a small smile.
"You look so much like me," Gwendoline murmured. "I will not have your life be like mine."
Astoria didn't know how to react so she nodded and smiled, and walked towards the castle. Astoria stumbled when she saw her. She spotted the graceful figure, resonating with powerful magic. Astoria felt her stomach clench as she recognized Bella Potter. She hadn't felt Bella's magic when Samhain had passed over, but she had felt Professor Riddle's. Astoria followed Bella down corridors and up the stairs.
Astoria watched the shadow of Bella Potter as she moved closer to Professor Riddle's office. Astoria picked up her pace, practically jogging down the hallway.
"Bella!" she called suddenly.
Bella spun around, her wand out. She relaxed and let out a quiet chuckle when she saw Astoria.
"Astoria…I didn't think anyone had seen me," she murmured.
"You've been following Ariana's friends. Vane, Sutter, and Delacour. I think Vane knows," Astoria murmured and Bella let out a hollow laugh, and nodded, refusing to make eye contact with the youngest Greengrass.
"That's… fine. Fine. Fine," Bella murmured, repeating the word, her eyes darting everywhere but Astoria's face. Astoria stepped forward, steeling herself.
"Please let my sister come home," Astoria said.
Bella stared. "No." She sounded incredulous.
"But…why not? She has a life here! Neville…a Potion Apprenticeship…me," Astoria whispered.
"She asked to go. She didn't want to be here," Bella said softly, pity in her eyes and she stepped forward. Astoria flinched away from her, refusing to let the woman touch her. Bella's hands dropped and she looked wounded. "You look… you look so much like your sister, Astoria Greengrass."
"Look what you've done to her. You're tearing my family apart," Astoria spat, throwing blame where she knew it didn't belong. Bella only smiled, ruefully.
"Yes… well. I may be tearing your family apart, but I'm trying to avoid that for others. I read your letter. I'm… I'm trying," Bella said honestly.
Astoria's gaze hardened. "Try harder."
Sofia, Bulgaria, Europe
Svetlana shivered. It was cold. And yet, she burned inside. Sweat poured down her pock-marked skin. Turning on her side, she looked at the ashen face of her stepmother. Stasya's breaths sounding like death rattles, sending panic up and down Svetlana's spine. She reached out for the woman and Stasya lifted her bony hand up, brushing her fingers lightly over Svetlana's jaw.
"Oh... Svetlana. Papa is coming," Stasya promised. The woman rolled onto her back and stared with glazed eyes at their popcorn ceiling. She threw a green arm over her eyes and moaned, her stomach cramping in pain. Svetlana crawled closer to her, burying herself in her side.
Stasya was no longer burning.
"Are you okay... Stasya?" Svetlana rasped. "Stasya, Papa is coming with more of the cure. Are you okay?"
Stasya gave another death rattle of a laugh. Svetlana shivered with the sound. She buried closer, laying her head on the space between Stasya's breasts. The woman was so thing that Svetlana could count her ribs. It was terrifying. Stasya wrapped her arms around her, and though she was weak, Svetlana felt as if she were being protected. She closed her eyes.
"Yes... your Papa... is coming," Stasya whispered.
Svetlana closed her eyes to the pain. The scent of sickness filled the room.
"Stasya?" Svetlana whispered.
Stasya didn't answer. Svetlana whispered the woman's name again. She didn't respond. Svetlana tilted her chin up. Stasya's chest was still. Her eyes were closed. Svetlana closed her eyes too and whimpered. Stasya's heart no longer beat.
The scent of sickness was thick.
St. Mungo's, Unplottable Location, London, England, Great Britain
Sunday the 7th of November 1999
4:00 PM
Romilda stood over her body. She was frozen. Unmoving. It was an unnatural state for Ariana to be in. It made her sad, and Romilda closed her eyes, turning her head away with a long sigh. She felt a hand on her shoulder and it tightened threateningly. Romilda flinched at the familiar weight of her mother's hand and Romilda turned to look at her mother's severe expression.
"Mother," Romilda murmured.
Ethelinda stared at her severely, and Romilda took a step back from Ariana's body and sighed, fulling turning towards her mother.
"You will be called to her right hand soon. The Light Lady will find use for you. You have a responsibility," Ethelinda said and her hand pressed on Romilda's spine. Romilda flinched away from the touch and nodded, standing up straight.
"A responsibility to yourself, a responsibility to your Protectorate, a responsibility to your blood, a responsibility to the world," Romilda recited. She almost sang the words that had branded into her brain since the moment she had taken her first breath while trying to not to show the disgust she felt saying them. If she closed her eyes, she could almost remember her mother saying the words to her bloody body, still connected to the afterbirth.
Even if it were a false memory, it wouldn't make it any less true.
Ethelinda nodded. "Good. Now, let's go."
St. Mungo's, London, England, Great Britain
Tuesday the 16th of November 1999
6:25 PM
"Give me the facts," Healer Radbury commanded, her arms crossed over her chest. She ignored the stunned looks on her students' faces, only glowering at them pointedly until Blaise snapped to attention, his gaze running over the young woman.
"Verity Crane, 27, Half-blood. Looks like a victim of a variant of Midas Touch Syndrome," Blaise said immediately, his eyes running over where the woman's beautiful brown skin turned silver, flakey and deadening. Her eyes moved but her mouth was silver, sealed shut.
"Or a variant of Galatea Virus," Cho inserted. She didn't wince when Blaise spun to glower at her, his arms crossed over her his broad chest and his mouth tight.
"No. I'm pretty positive it's a variant of Midas Touch Syndrome. She fits the criteria. Midas Touch Syndrome manifests in witches and wizards in their earlier to late twenties. Miss Crane is 27. Galatea Virus turns the upper layers of the dermis into a crystalline structure. Miss Crane's illness has been affecting her for some time, nearly three weeks. Galatea Virus runs its course in nine days, after which the shell cracks off and the infected person may return to their daily lives immune and unscathed," Blaise rattled off, her voice trembling with vexation. Cho's eyes lit up in pleasure as she saw how affected her fellow student was. Blaise was nearly always unaffected.
It was a massive pet peeve of Cho's.
"Yes. Very good, Zabini," Healer Radbury said, her voice full of warning. "Zabini, can you give me the treatment?"
"Significant potioneering," Cho injected immediately. Zabini's hands clenched into tight fists and he snarled at Cho. Cho's eyes widened in fear as Healer Radbury made a hissing sound between her teeth in exasperation.
"Yes, thank you, Chang," Healer Radbury sighed. She glanced at Blaise. "Blaise, this is your patient. You're in charge of her potions and keeping her alive."
"Healer, I could also—"
"She's my patient," Blaise snarled loudly, and Cho flinched away violently. Her hands trembled and she nearly dropped her notepad and quill as she looked into Blaise's burning eyes.
The gold was gone, revealing only an unnatural orange that burned like fire and hatred, and the sun, and Cho couldn't look away. She trembled under the gaze and her eyes widened when one iris dulled back to the normal gold while the other remained the fiery orange. Blaise looked pale suddenly and he stumbled backwards, coughing and hacking into his hand. He looked dock at his hand with a grimace and looked up at Healer Radbury, his dry cracked lips smeared with dark blood.
"Blaise," Healer Radbury whispered.
"I'm sorry, Healer. I guess this is Chang's patient," Blaise murmured.
He exited without another word.
Ministry of Magic, London, England, Great Britain
Saturday the 20th of November 1999
2:30 PM
Albus watched her pace back and forth against the backdrop of her false window. The entire back wall of her office looked out to an image of London, grey and damp. Madame Amelia Bones cut an impressive figure as she finally deigned to turn to him, as if she had formulated every word that she wanted to use to cut him down. Albus' eyes sparkled and he only smiled at her genially, neglecting his cold tea.
"Now, Amelia—"
"Madame Bones will do, Headmaster," Amelia said harshly.
"Madame Bones, I do have a school to run," Albus warned her and Amelia nodded once before falling into her chair, leaning back into the cushioned leather. "You've called me to this meeting. Not the other way around."
"Yes, I'm aware. I called to you because I wish to discuss the possibility of war being declared," Amelia said firmly and Albus raised a single eyebrow, smugness making his bright blue eyes glitter more.
"So, you finally wish to acknowledge that there is, in fact, a war?" Albus asked sharply.
Amelia scoffed, folding her hands in her lap and she leaned forward. "I've always known that there was a war, Albus Dumbledore. I have never said otherwise. How can I when my Aurors are dying every day, Muggles are being massacred, and magical and non-magical villages alike are being destroyed? We are at war. But, it is not my place to declare it so, just as it isn't your place to fight."
"Well, someone has to," Albus snapped.
"Yes. Not you or your silly vigilante group. You have, perhaps, three fully competent people. And notably, they are all my people," Amelia retorted and she smirked when she saw the shock in Albus' eyes. "Yes. Nymphadora, Kingsley, and old Mad-Eye. Really, Albus, I am neither an idiot or a child. I did not become the head of the DMLE through sheer dumb luck."
"I… underestimated you," Albus said gracefully and Amelia inclined her head towards him.
"Yes. You did. Now, I wish to declare war, but the bureaucracy stands in my way. Scrimgeour and his advisors do not want the population panicking, though they should. The Daily Prophet lies, there is anti-vigilantism and anti-Ministry propaganda rising in the papers and in the streets. It is a mess," Amelia said and she leaned forward, as if she were to say something secretive. Albus found himself mirroring her movements. "I have taken matters into my own hands, too."
"Have you, Madame Bones?" Albus asked.
"I've called Command," Amelia said harshly and Albus fell back in his chair, letting out a quiet laugh.
"As have I," Albus agreed.
Amelia hummed. "So, we have similar thoughts. He is training an elite force of young witches and wizards. They will fight our war."
"A war that we can't declare?" Albus asked.
"I will declare war. As Leader," Amelia said harshly.
Albus' eyes widened. "You wish to—"
"Yes. You support me in this and you and Command will lead our war efforts. I will legitimize your silly Order and train your inductees. We will be a partnership," Amelia said sternly and Albus crossed his arms over his chest, staring at her with a curious expression in his eyes.
"You know this means we must cooperate with two headstrong individuals."
Amelia shrugged. "It's all for the greater good."
St. Mungo's, Unplottable Location, London, England, Great Britain
Tuesday the 30th of November 1999
11:45 PM
"This is like Sirius' coma, but different. It's nearly the same, but it's more connected to you. She's trapped in her body by you, not by any outside circumstances," Blaise explained, calmly. He stared, uncertainly at the woman that clutched this little girl's hand tight.
Blaise had never quite seen Ariana and Bella together. When he had, Bella had always kept Ariana far, far away from her siblings. He wasn't sure if Bella was protecting them from Ariana, or Ariana from the Horsemen. Somehow, he thought it was the latter rather than the former.
"Explain," Bella said, shortly.
Blaise nodded once. "Sirius' magic had been stripped from his core when he went through the Veil. It was regenerating and trapped in strings of death, like a ball of yarn. Ariana is simply dormant, lying in a shroud of your magic."
Bella hummed. She laid her head down on the pillow next to Ariana's head, brushing her lips across the girl's temple as she settled there.
"Then why can't you do it?" Bella whispered.
"This isn't Horsemen magic, Bella. This is your bloodline. Your inheritance. It's volatile, and cannot be undone by me. You told me that no power on Earth or in Hell could change this curse. It has to be done by you, and not on Earth or in Hell," Blaise said, quietly. "And…"
"And what?" Bella demanded.
"She's eating magic. The foreign magic. Sucking it up. And her core pulses. It's alive, and violent, and damaging. Is that her majority?" Blaise demanded.
Bella blanched. "I… I don't know."
Blaise looked towards Hermione. She was being uncharacteristically quiet, as was Draco.
They both looked distrustful of the girl lying in the bed, but Blaise wasn't surprised. Hermione and Draco had always been of the same mind, no matter how much they tried to deny it. They were overprotective of Bella, and could get rather jealous when her attention was redirected as well.
"I can't…I don't know the magic. I'm not a Legilimens. We were…learning together," she whispered, brokenly. "I promised her that I would teach her everything I knew, and everything that neither of us knew, we would learn together."
"Oh, Bella," Hermione whispered, softly. She didn't know Ariana, not at all. But, she was sympathetic. "I couldn't imagine if it were Daphne."
Bella turned her fearsome glare onto her. "No, you couldn't. Daphne is our age. Daphne is a peer. She was our classmate. Daphne is our friend. This girl… this girl was so much more. She called me 'Godmother', because she didn't know what else to call me. She called me Godmother because she didn't have a mother. I kept her a secret from everyone. I kept her away from you all. Why do you think I did that?"
Draco pursed his lips.
"Because you wanted to keep our secret safe like any one of us would?" Draco asked, sneering. His sympathy was waning.
"No," Bella said, her voice cracking. "I did it because I didn't want her to be a part of this. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve to be Grindelwald's bargaining chip, and she doesn't exist to heal Dumbledore of his guilt and pain. She had the right to make a choice, and I took that away from her."
Draco fell silent and he stared at his sister with remorse.
"I'm sorry, Bella," Blaise said, quietly. "But, we do need to go. They're expecting you at the Order meeting. We'll leave you to say goodbye."
Bella nodded, waving them away. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and she grabbed Ariana's hand in her own. She leaned down, pressing her head to Ariana's still chest. She didn't even appear to be breathing, but Bella could hear her heart beating like a drum. Slowly, she sat up.
"I will not ask your forgiveness because what I have done to you is unforgivable," Bella said, sorrowfully. Her words shook. "I was so lost in rage and fury and hatred. Ariana… my darling, I had given my soul away and half my heart before I met you. I'd kept the rest close for myself, but you have stolen it away. What was left of my heart belongs to you and you alone. I swear, no harm will come to you as long as I live. And not a day will pass that I do not miss your smile or your laugh."
Bella leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ariana's brow. She brushed the girl's hair from her head, and she stood. She suddenly felt older than she had in a very long time. Bella looked up and cast a glance at Blaise. He was staring at Ariana, narrow-eyed.
"I need to talk to Bella," Blaise whispered suddenly. Draco's eyes narrowed.
"More secrets?" he demanded angrily.
Bella shook her head. "You…you can say it in front of them."
Blaise nodded slowly, and beckoned Hermione and Draco back inside. Hermione stared at Ariana curiously and slowly raised her wand. She whispered something and Bella flinched violently as the harsh magenta light filled the room. Bella's eyes widened when a screech filled the room along with a blistering heat. Magic erupted up the room, a swirling mass of gas and light. And then it was back in Ariana's body, and she laid there, as still as ever. Blaise clicked the lock closed.
"W-what are you doing?" Bella asked.
"There's something…off about her. Her magic. It is violent. What the fuck was that?" Draco hissed angrily and Blaise and Hermione moved closer, their eyes narrowed.
"It's old. Old as Dumbledore's," Hermione snarled, her wand held out before her as if the still body was a threat. "It's independent of her. That's what Blaise was noticing. How… how could you not feel it, Bella?"
"It's called an Obscurus. It's her majority."
The Horsemen spun, staring at the Elf that was pressed against the door. Bella looked at Luna's shadow, and saw crimson eyes staring out of them at her.
"What is that?" Draco whispered gently to Luna.
Luna's eyes stayed on Ariana, her twisted elvish wand held tightly in her fist.
"She's an Obscurial. It's…it's what Ariana Dumbledore was. You know that, Bella," Luna said, cutting her gaze to Ariana. "She is better asleep than awake. She will slaughter us all."
Hermione spun, glowering at Bella. "What do she mean?" she hissed. "You… you care for this thing?"
"I don't even know what an Obscurial is!" Bella roared in rage.
The blistering heat erupted again and Bella's anger drained away. She walked towards Ariana's side and petted her face. The heat disappeared nearly immediately.
"It's an Abomination," Luna whispered. "It's what happens when a child suppresses their magic through psychological or physical means due to their fear of being persecuted by Muggles. Children possessed by an Obscurus die before their 10th birthday."
She looked frantic and tired, the circles under her eyes dark, and she was nearly as pale as Draco. The red eyes remained in her shadow, peering outwards.
"She's 17!" Bella roared.
"Exactly!" Blaise snapped back. "She is chaos personified. She needs to sleep or die. Those are your options."
"I want neither," Bella whispered. "This is my fault. She should be allowed to live. She is my beastie. I love her… you know how much I love her. I would do anything for her."
Luna shook her head. "And that is why I didn't stop you. She must remain under that curse or she will end your reign before it even begins. Ariana Goode is a threat. A threat to the balance. Do not wake her. Do not even try."
Bella looked around the room. Draco's self-righteousness set her skin alight with fury. Blaise looked at her with pity and anger. Hermione only looked confused. And those red eyes still watched, waiting.
"Please… mon amour. Please, wake her," Bella begged.
Hermione stepped into Bella's line of sight and grabbed her by the face.
"You will explain to me the connection between this girl and Ariana Dumbledore. You will explain to me the circumstances in which she became an Obscurial. You will do this, and I may side with you. If… if she can be harnessed, I may side with you," Hermione whispered harshly. Bella nodded frantically and she looked at her siblings, biting her lower lip.
Blaise crossed his arms. "Waiting."
"We'll wait for a long time," Draco sneered. "We both know how much Princess likes to keep secrets."
Bella stepped forward, her eyes the color of the Killing Curse.
"Her name is Ariana Svetlana Goranov. She is Bulgarian. She is Grindelwald's Horcrux. One of many."
"What is a Horcrux?" Hermione asked. "I've never heard of it. Have any of you?"
"No," Draco said carefully.
Blaise shook his head once. Luna stared, her eyes trained on Ariana Goode.
"A Horcrux is the Blackest of magic. Soul Magick. It is when one embeds a piece of their soul into an object. In order to grant… immortality," Bella whispered, the word precious and terrible. A gasp of awe emerged from Hermione's mouth. Blaise recoiled and Draco's eyes narrowed further. Bella's hand fell to her locket and Draco's eyes trained on it.
"That's how Tom lives. How he is still young," Draco murmured.
Bella bit her lower lip and nodded. "Yes…" The red eyes recoiled and a warning hiss erupted from Luna's shadow. Bella nodded her head apologetically. "I thought Grindelwald had only four. A charm of the Deathly Hallows sign. Draco consumed that piece of soul years ago…when we were only twelve. A copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. I destroyed it. A book of letters from Albus Dumbledore that he always keeps on his person. That last was supposed to be a brick from Nurmengard, making it nearly impossible to find."
"Supposed to be?" Blaise questioned.
Bella nodded once. "I'm a Horcrux. When he tried to kill me, my mother's protection made the Killing Curse rebound. It hit him and he shattered. A piece of his soul broke off and embedded itself in me. But… that wasn't the last one. He had one of his followers breed while he was still a shade in Bulgaria. And before she was even born, he embedded her with what he believed was a peace offering—a shard of his soul and the power of Ariana Dumbledore. I knew it was chaotic magic, but I didn't know she was an Obscurial or whatever it's called."
Draco cursed under his breath. "Goddammit! You really did keep everything to yourself!"
"I have it under control!" Bella retorted. "Daphne and Neville know about it. They've been gathering information, hunting."
Blaise sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Yes. But, we should've known!"
"I… I thought I could handle it. I can't. I clearly can't. Look what I've done. Oh, gods… oh, gods," Bella rasped, her breath heaving in her chest. Hermione grabbed her wrists, centring her and stared at her with deep brown eyes. Though she looked like Morgan, Bella recognized her dark eyes and felt her heart begin to slow.
"We have to kill her, don't we?" Draco demanded.
"No," Bella bit out. "If you kill her, I'll make you kill me. I swear it. We're both Horcruxes. We figure out how to take it out of both of us."
"Fine. What do we do with Ariana Dumbledore's Obscurus, then?" Draco hummed.
And that, seemed to be Tom's cue. He peeled out of Luna's shadow and stalked towards Bella's side. Bella wrapped her hands around his wrist and lifted his hand, knowing that he had his wand clutched tight. Tom looked down at her in mild surprise before turning to the other Horsemen and Luna.
"We bind it. Harness it," Tom said sharply. "I've been to MACUSA. I know how."
"You know how to bind an Obscurial?" Luna rasped and she let out a slow laugh, shaking her head in utter disbelief and disdain. "Of course you do. You would want to save a fellow Abomination, wouldn't you, Lord Voldemort? You certainly have a soft spot for them. You… your wife… the girl."
"Luna," Tom murmured.
Luna's cold smile fell away. "You knew what she was and I had no idea. You kept this from me. Why?"
"It is your job to know. Not to understand. You don't need to understand," Tom said gently, far gentler than he had ever spoken to Bella. He took a step towards Luna, his red eyes glowing.
"Bind the Obscurial. Bind the magic to her will and then I will let you make the Deal," Luna hissed, moving forward and suddenly her pupils were blown, the grey disappearing entirely. Her eyes were black and she moved with a sudden power that was otherworldly.
Draco took a step back. "That's… that's not Luna."
"No. It is not. It is the in-between for the council in Purgatory and this world. It is Anarya," Tom whispered.
Bella's eyes widened. Anarya. The Dark Elf that had started it all. The one that had promised Morgan le Fay vengeance.
Anarya lifted Luna's hand, pointing towards Tom and Bella with the wand. BIND THE ABOMINATION.
"Okay… okay," Tom rasped. "Bella, my love, you will need to release me. I am trying to save the one thing you may love more than me and less than Magick."
Bella dropped his hand immediately and nodded. Tom turned towards Ariana's body and slowly lifted his wand. And then Bella watched.
It was the most beautiful dance she had ever seen. The wand swirled through the air and the magic came from everywhere— inside of Tom, from Bella, from Draco and Blaise and Hermione, from the very air. The Obscurus rebelled and the blistering heat came again. Bella knew it for what it was now— a warning. Still, Tom did not stop, he twisted and pulled his wand back, creating a whip of magic from the end of the yew wand. He bent his head forward, sweating beading on his forehead.
And then he began to sing the soft words, "Nibandhana. Samarthya. Dharmavastambhah. Anubandhati. Grathita. Grathita. Nibandhana. Nibandhana."
He continued to sing the chant as he swirled the magic over Ariana and the Obscurus roared to life from her lifeless body, consuming her in its white Light. And Tom never stopped. It was only then that Bella truly acknowledged that this was the man she was willing to fight to the death for the future of Britain. This was the most powerful man in the world and she was married to him. This man was the only one with the power to stop her, and she was the only woman with the power to stop him. Bella didn't even stop to consider the words. She moved forward into the light.
"Stop, Bella!" Draco roared.
Bella looked over her shoulder. Anarya stared at her and nodded once. Bella ignored Draco and turned her back on him. She began to follow his wand movements with the Elder Wand. She swallowed hard and rasped, "Nibandhana. Samarthya. Dharmavastambhah. Anubandhati. Grathita. Grathita. Nibandhana. Nibandhana."
Tom glanced over her in shock and nodded. The Darkness erupted from his wand and swirled around the Light that emerged from the Elder Wand. Bella watched as the Obscurus pulled back, cowering before the two forces.
Light meets Darkness in the stillness between.
"Grathita. Grathita!" Tom roared. Bella echoed him and they watched in awe as the Obscurus suddenly vanished, and Bella stared at the appendages emerging from Ariana's head.
They were beautifully smooth horns— curved and dangerous and pulsing with power.
"What…what did you do? What was that language?" Hermione whispered.
"Sanskrit. It was a binding spell. The most powerful binding spell in the world and the most dangerous. Grathita… it means hurt, set, bound," Tom whispered. He stumbled back, clearly drained. He turned towards Anarya. "The Deal?"
Make it.
Tom spun and faced Bella. Bella's eyes widened. "A Deal?" she whispered.
Tom set out his hand and held her gaze. "Offer me a Deal."
"Want to make a Deal?" Bella said immediately. Tom nodded.
"I want to wake her up. Wake her up now. Name your price."
Bella moved forward, her eyes narrowed. There was barely space for air between them, and their stares intensified. "I take things threefold for this hefty Deal—your heart, a piece of your magic, and one thing freely given."
"My heart is yours. A piece of my magic is yours. And I freely give my single reprieve of Purgatory. Without it, if I ever die, I am at the mercy of the Council… a Council that I have dedicated a lifetime to avoid at all costs, for I am as Abominable as that girl in that bed," Tom whispered and Bella nodded and she reached down to pull her knife from her boot. She sliced it across Tom's palm and he didn't flinch at the burning wound. Bella lifted his hand to her mouth and she licked the wound clean.
"Shake a sinner's hand," Bella commanded as she slid her knife over her palm. She grabbed his hand and shook once.
As they touched, a light erupted from the bond momentarily before disappearing. Bella felt a piece of herself die, and she jolted once.
"Is it done?" Draco murmured.
Suddenly, Luna gasped and her pupils turned to pinpricks before returning to normal size. She staggered, falling against Draco's side. Draco caught her, holding her up and she trembled. Luna nodded once.
"It… it is done." Slowly, Luna straightened and pointed her finger at Bella and Tom. "You have sealed your fate. There is no changing it now. When the Deal has been struck and the bell has tolled, Her fate in Light shall be sealed threefold. Your path will never change, Light Lady."
She took a step back and Bella reached out for her.
Bella stopped when a hand wrapped around her wrist. Afraid to turn around, she looked up at Tom, nearly terrified. He looked down at the hand wrapped around Bella's wrist and smiled.
"Hello, Godmother. I've missed you"
Bella turned around, her lower lip trembled. Her voice cracking, she whispered, "Hello, Beastie."
She felt the rush of magic through the air, and she didn't need to look to know that Lily stood by her side. Bella looked up at her, hopeful, but Lily was looking at Tom.
We release her from the in-between lands. Your one reprieve has been used, Dark Lord. So mote it be. Let there be no other times after this. The Obscurus awaits your reckoning. The house of flesh always rots, Lily rasped to the man, but Bella could not care as she threw her arms around Ariana, and the girl hugged her back, just as tight.
Bella looked up at Tom and whispered, "Thank you."
"We made a Deal," he murmured.
Ariana's head suddenly fell back onto the pillow and she lifted a weak hand to the horns on her head. She let out a horrified gasp. "W-what… what happened to me?"
"Emrys' Cyrchfan. You must take her from here," Luna said suddenly, looking around frantically. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she licked the air.
"Aurors…we've been here too long. They felt the magical disturbance. Stupefy," Hermione snarled, and Blaise collapsed to the ground from the Stun. Hermione backed away and spun, Disapparating swiftly. Draco followed her lead, and Luna rushed to Bella's side.
Tom lifted the girl and held her out to Bella. Luna wrapped her arm around Bella's shoulder and helped lift half of Ariana.
"G-Godmother?" Ariana demanded frantically.
Bella smiled weakly. "Don't worry, beastie. We need to go."
And then they disappeared into the shadows. Ariana stared around the shadow world, utterly disoriented as they skipped from shadow to shadow. She groaned, her body still weak, and she wasn't sure what had happened to her. She only knew that she was in her Godmother's arms. When they emerged, it was to a land of green despite it being early December and Ariana looked around in shock.
Bella's knees buckled under her weight and she gently held her to her lap.
"W-what is this place?" Ariana whispered as she stared at the enormous statue of Merlin and Morgan le Fay in the middle of the grand courtyard.
Bella smiled gently. "Welcome to Emrys' Cyrchfan."
Emrys' Cyrchfan, Paimpont Forest, France
Thursday the 2nd of December 1999
11:20 AM
When she woke up, she didn't believe that she was truly awake for ten minutes. Ariana only sunk deeper into the plush mattress and the down comforter, praying that she had truly been saved by Tom Riddle and Bella from the curse that Bella had accidentally put her in. She prayed that she had been saved from the pulsing Light, and the haunting shade of Ariana Dumbledore, and the shadowy Council that surrounded her.
Svetlana Ariana Goranov had dreamed a lot of things while she had been cursed. She had dreamed that she was Aurora, heir of the Dawn. She had dreamed of writing her deliverance, of the death of her family, of Ariana Dumbledore, and most of all the Council in Purgatory and… the one… the beautiful one with long fingers and dark hair and a terrible laugh and a heart-breaking smile, that made Ariana burn… the one in chains.
The dream of chains slipped away from her the more she thought about it.
It was only when Ariana could see the sun through the window that she truly believed that she was awake. The sun had not existed in her dreams.
Ariana slipped out of bed and spotted the robes left for her. They were casual—a long flowing grey skirt and an enormous knitted black robe over it. She dressed quickly and finally looked around her room. Bella had only shown it to her and though Ariana had spent so many weeks asleep, all she had wanted to do was sleep again.
The room was enormous and ornate. The sheets were a majestic, deep purple—the color of royalty. The headboard was dark wood with swirling posts that gave way to a canopy. The fire danced in the fireplace and yet, still Ariana shivered. Barefoot, she padded towards the door and emerged, looking both ways down the endless hallway.
She would learn Emrys' Cyrchfan, commit it to memory. But, while she didn't know, Ariana walked.
Ariana stared down at her own hands. She understood what Bella and Riddle had explained to her. She understood that she was a living vessel of a piece of Grindelwald's soul. She knew that she was an Obscurial, except not really, because it was Ariana Dumbledore that had been the Obscurial— not her. She now knew what that really meant— the connection between Ariana Dumbledore and herself. But, she didn't understand how she had lived in ignorance of it all along. She couldn't understand that her father had impregnated her mother with the sole purpose of birthing a vessel for his Master.
It made Ariana feel sick, and disgusting.
She had thought her father loved her, but really, she was nothing but a tool.
Ariana shook her head of her thoughts.
She looked at the elegance of Emrys' Cyrchfan, and sighed. This was what she was used to. It almost reminded her of Durmstrang, just a little. Cool, and clean, and all that she'd ever known.
All that she had ever wanted.
She breathed in deeply, shaking at the thought. Durmstrang was what she had wanted in her life, and it was so cruelly ripped away from her when she met her Godmother. And yet, her Godmother had made her life something worth living again. Her Godmother had made the world alive again for her after Ariana's father's death. She couldn't even be angry.
This was her new home. With her Godmother, Riddle, and the others. Her noble and strong family. That sense of family was new and invigorating. She almost smiled.
She belonged…and she told herself that if anyone doubted it, they were wrong.
"I am the heir of the Light Magic of the Dawn, of my Godmother," Ariana declared to the starry night, and she swallowed. "A child of Magick, the history of which is etched into my bone, part of my blood. Young. Scrappy. And hungry. I am Svetlana Ariana Goranov, and there's a million things I haven't done yet. I am me."
She swallowed hard, and she almost believed herself.
Ariana froze as the sound of piano notes filled this strange place that she found herself in. Slowly, she crossed the courtyard, ignoring her freezing feet. When she emerged on the other side, she passed under the arches and found herself in a solarium of sorts. Lined against the actual walls were bookcases twice as tall as Ariana with ladders leaning against them—filled up with scrolls and loose pieces of parchments and the thickest books Ariana had ever seen.
At the centre of the beautiful solarium was a large white piano that Bella sat at, her head bent over the keys as she played something beautiful and deep. Her fingers were moving so fast that Ariana had no idea where to look. Bella hadn't seemed to notice that anyone was there, so involved in the creation she pulled from the piano, and Ariana watched as self-satisfied grin pull those red lips as her fingers twisted down the keys, building a climax so heart-rending and poetic and revolutionary that it mesmerized. It was not the first time that Ariana wished she had musical talent. Ariana sighed and moved to sit on the floor by the piano bench. Bella still didn't look at her as she slowly came to an end, the notes falling near silent before she danced down the keys and resolved the piece.
Ariana sighed again. "What was that?" Ariana whispered, playing with her robes.
"Chopin. Ariana, speak to me?"
Ariana smiled and looked up. "That was beautiful. I knew you played but...I didn't know you played like that."
"I started when I was very young," Bella said with a smiled and she reached down, running her fingers through Ariana's beautiful blonde hair.
"Everything I thought— everything I am— is a lie."
Bella's eyes widened and she reached down, pulling Ariana onto the bench.
"No. You are you, Ariana."
"Why did he choose me?" Ariana whispered.
Bella sighed. "Grindelwald is a selfish man, to do this to you. You are a living, thinking being, and he violated you. He violated you, and that's not okay."
She didn't sound pitying. It made everything a little better.
"Do you think my mother knew?"
"No," Bella said immediately. "I don't think she did. But, your father…"
"He knew," Ariana interrupted. "I know that. I just feel… I've never felt at home with my mother and now I can't go to my father's old home, because it's not my home anymore. I don't have a home."
Bella brushed Ariana's hair from her face.
"This is your home, Ariana. This is where Magick brought you, and Magick meant for this to be your home," Bella said, firmly. She leaned forward, grabbing Ariana's hands between her own, and she nodded once. "Now, you know the truth, beastie. Do not worry. I will solve this. I will remove Grindelwald's soul, and you will belong to you again."
Ariana bit her lower lip. "The Obscurus. You said the horns are because of the Obscurus."
"Yes. You will harness that power. You must make it obey, or my siblings will kill you, and this time, I am afraid I won't be able to stop them," Bella murmured, moving to cradle Ariana's head. Ariana's eyes widened and she nodded.
"They don't like me."
Bella sighed. "It isn't about liking or disliking. They think I am a fool for thinking that I have the power to save you, but Ariana, my beastie, I will always save you," Bella whispered.
Ariana's eyes widened. "I would kill for you. I would… I would… the Obscurus is so bright… it isn't supposed to be so bright… and she's so… the Obscurus is so frightening… the Council… there are three seats empty…"
Bella's eyes widened as Ariana slid off the piano bench and she knelt on the ground next to her, pulling Ariana's head into her lap as the younger girl stammered. Bella closed her eyes, running her fingers through the girl's blonde hair. She looked up when the shadows twisted.
Tom stared down at the two women and knelt down next to them. Ariana shook her head from where she laid across Bella's lap.
"In England, I can be a new woman," Ariana rasped. She rocked back and forth. Tom frowned over the girl at Bella, but Bella looked just as confused. "In England, I can be a new woman. Just you wait."
"What are you saying?" Tom asked quietly.
Ariana looked up at him, her red eyes bright. "My mother committed suicide, and at that moment, I knew I would have to fend for myself. I will always have to fend for myself. I will rewrite this game. I will… I'm not... my father's last words to me," Ariana rasped. Bella pet her head and smiled, her gaze softening.
"What were his last words?" Bella asked quietly.
Ariana sat up and stared at the two. "There are a million things I haven't done and my father warned me... not to throw away my shot."
Bella smiled and pet Ariana's hair. "A worthy goal, beastie." She looked up at Tom and a look of caution entered her eyes. "Tom. Let me speak to her alone."
Tom's eyes glinted maliciously. "About the war, I assume?"
Bella's eyes hardened and she raised her wand, pointing it levelly at him though she made no move to make Ariana leave the warmth of her body. "I'm warning you. I'll banish you from these grounds. Go."
"No need to banish me," Tom bit out. "I have a meeting."
He disappeared into Bella and Ariana's shadows and Ariana looked up at Bella, her eyes wide.
"What… is he…"
"He is not on our side," Bella said harshly. "He helped to save you because I love you. He is not on our side. He seeks to control our world, our people, instead of allowing us the chance to develop self-control."
"Control is liberty," Ariana whispered. Bella's eyes widened as she looked down at the young woman. Ariana sat up and looked Bella in the eye and smiled. "Virtuous Sin brings freedom. Control is liberty. Magick is truth. That is the reality of this world."
Bella smiled. "Oh, my pretty girl, you are learning."
Ariana's eyes narrowed and slowly she sat up. "I still have things to learn. Godmother, teach me."
Bella's eyes narrowed and she nodded once. Slowly, she stood, pulling forth two wands. "Tom brought it. Take your wand," Bella commanded and she lifted her own. It was not the holly wand that Ariana was used to. Bella's lips twitched. "You wish to learn?"
Ariana grabbed her wand and nodded. "Yes."
"Then, block this. KVEYKVA!"
And Ariana spun, and the sun shone, and the world spun on.
Malfoy Manor, England, Great Britain
Thursday the 2nd of December 1999
10:24 PM
Long greasy brown curls were tamed into a long plait that fell down her back. Her mask did nothing to cover her cracked and bloody lips or her yellowing teeth. Mórrígan ignored the warning stares of the Death Eaters. She continued down the hallway, her dark eyes narrowed in intensity. The click of her black boots and the sound of her sword dragging across the floor created an ear-splitting sound that silenced everyone.
Mórrígan lifted her wand as she got the grand doors and she waved it once. The doors slammed open, alerting all of the Death Eaters inside. They all turned towards her, their wands raised and aimed at her. She paid them no mind, her gaze trained on the man that sat in the stone throne, staring at her.
Voldemort looked at her with disinterest, but Grindelwald didn't care to hide his emotions. He stared at her as if she were nothing but a bug, an interesting one. Mórrígan's lips curled into a terrible smile.
"Dark Lord, I have business with you."
The Dark Lord straightened in his chair and dipped his head in respect. "What can I offer you, Lady War. Mórrígan of the Apocalapsye, Horseman?" he said loftily, listing her titles, almost measuring her up. He lifted his wand slowly, aiming it at her but she did not flinch away.
"Something my family already has. Banish your followers. I wish to speak to you," Mórrígan said sharply and the Dark Lord stood from his stone throne. Mórrígan glanced at Grindelwald suspiciously and snarled, "You will stay in my sight, Gellert Grindelwald."
He bowed falsely to her. "As you wish… Lady War," he murmured, swallowing his mad giggles.
The Dark Lord descended and the Inner Circle broke rank, allowing him to pass through. Mórrígan ignored Lucius Malfoy's stares, though her eyes caught on the false hand. Voldemort offered his arm to her and Mórrígan took it and allowed him to escort from the room towards the shadows. They disappeared into the shadows, Grindelwald riding their shadows and when they emerged, they were in a private parlour.
"Tea?" Grindelwald asked as he settled into a plush armchair.
Mórrígan stood before the quiet fire and shook her head.
"I will not be long," she said, running her finger over the mantle.
Voldemort stared at her, having not moved from the shadow they had entered through. "What do you need of me, Hermione?"
Mórrígan stared at him for a long time. "You have taught me many things, Tom. You have taught me how to wield this sword. You have taught me how to survive. I have nearly outgrown you as a teacher. Nearly. There is one thing left… one thing…"
Voldemort moved forward, never taking his eyes away from the sister of his wife.
"What is the last thing I can teach you?" Voldemort asked.
Morrigan pursed her lips. "My siblings are all immortal. Thanatos is a reanimated corpse that never rots. Apollo's body is sustained by the bubonic plague, frozen in stasis. Nikolai is the Master of Death. And I will age. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust."
Grindelwald chortled. "I see now. I see now."
Voldemort's waxy expression never changed. "What do you need of me?"
"How do I create a Horcrux?" Mórrígan rasped.
Grindelwald's lips twitched at the question and he leaned forward, his navy eyes trained on her. Mórrígan's eyes followed him slowly, as if she had never quite seen him before.
"You must sacrifice a human life and do the most heinous thing one can do—use their soul to crack off a piece of yours. And when you have used their soul to cleave your soul in two, their soul dissipates. Can you live with the eternal shame?" Grindelwald hissed tauntingly.
Mórrígan's lips twitched into a slow smile. "If I can live forever? Yes. I think I'd find it easy to forgive myself of that."
Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland, Great Britain
Friday the 3rd of December 1999
8:00 AM
Romilda sat at the Gryffindor table, her head bent over her porridge. One arm was slung around Cyneburga's shoulder, and the other hand she used to quickly shovel her food into her mouth while flipping through her Ancient Runes notes. She refused to fail an exam— Dominique wouldn't let her forget it for weeks if she did, especially when the Ravenclaw had offered her assistance.
"Millie, when is Ariana getting back?" Godiva murmured, casting a worried glance at her twin sister. Cyneburga had taken it the hardest when they were told that Ariana was sick and in St. Mungo's, and had suffered even more when Ariana's body had disappeared from St. Mungo's.
Cyneburga perked up at the question, turning her big brown eyes onto Romilda's face. Romilda's gaze softened and she opened her mouth to reassure the twins when she tasted the magic.
Romilda stood up suddenly, and Dominique and Heather looked up from their own meals, alarm on their faces. Romilda looked at the doors, and she watched as the doors creaked open. Tom Riddle stood there, his hands clasped behind his back and Romilda's eyes narrowed.
And then she peeked around his body, her eyes aglow.
"Ariana!" Cyneburga cheered and Romilda was running.
She pushed roughly past Riddle and wrapped her arms around Ariana tightly, burying her face in her neck. Romilda trembled with the force of her emotion, as she continued to tell herself not to cry— she wouldn't cry. And still, her tears wet the collar of Ariana's shirt, a shirt far too big for her slight frame, and she was so skinny. Romilda could feel her ribs. Ariana clutched her tightly, afraid to let go.
"How fucking dare you?" Romilda whispered. "You scared me to death, you dumb girl."
Ariana let out a quiet laugh. "I missed you too."
Romilda looked up from Ariana's neck and looked at her. She looked older, and more sure of herself. The burning magic was more contained. She was safe. Her girl was safe.
"Ari! Are you okay?" Cyneburga asked excitedly, tugging at her guardian's hand, and Ariana looked down at the sweet first year. Romilda watched as Ariana glanced over her shoulder at Riddle. His eyes narrowed on her but otherwise his expression betrayed nothing.
"Yeah. I…I think so."
Romilda's gaze was full of warning. "After… after breakfast, you tell us everything."
Ariana's eyes shuttered and her smile turned into a wooden one. "Of… of course."
Romilda knew then that Ariana would lie about everything.
Emrys' Cyrchfan, Paimpont Forest, France
Saturday the 4th December 1999
2:30 PM
"I was shocked that you wrote to me. And that you knew to write to me… here."
Astoria did not tremble in the face of Hermione Granger, no matter how hungry her black-brown eyes were. The Horseman simply watched her, her eyes taking in every twitch, the way her shoulders moved when she took a deep breath— calculating. This was not an insane woman. This was a woman more dangerous than ever. Astoria wasn't sure when Hermione Granger had gained her sanity again, but it did not bode well for the other side of the war— whichever side they fought on now.
"You were Daphne's teacher. She trusted you implicitly. I trust you more than I trust Bella," Astoria said. She was shocked when Hermione through her head back and let out a long throaty laugh, nearly tipping over on the couch.
"You trust me? Interesting," Hermione sighed. "I read your letters. Not only to me, but to Bella as well, I mean. Trust in that I am thinking up a plan to help all the Neutral students of Hogwarts. They shouldn't have to suffer stupid mistakes."
"Thank you, Lady Mórrígan," Astoria whispered. Hermione shrugged, and stared at the two vials that sat on the coffee table beside the Pensieve.
"I've done a lot of research, Astoria. It's fascinating. Combining two memories is so rarely done because the mind influences perspective, which alters the memory and how they are experienced. However, with modification of the Runes on the Pensieve, I think I've managed a safe way to do this," Hermione said and she nearly sounded like herself. A bossy know-it-all. Strangely enough, it put Astoria at ease in a way that she hadn't been since Christine and her sister had left. Hermione looked up from her notes, a frown creasing her brow. "You still want to do this, right, Astoria?"
"I want to know what's true. I want to know what and why and when," Astoria said firmly. Hermione smiled at the youngest Greengrass before she gestured at the Pensieve.
"Then go," Hermione said.
"Okay… okay," Astoria whispered. She emptied the two vials in the Pensieve and Astoria's eyes widened as she watched the memory glow and seemed to meld with the other gaseous liquids in the Pensieve.
Slowly, Astoria lowered her face to the Pensieve. She felt the plunge and the young woman was suddenly falling into darkness until they landed in a sepia-tinged memory of their home.
Astoria looked around their father's study. He was lounging in his high-back leather chair, his legs propped on his desk. He looked shockingly informal, laughing as he looked at the young boy with bright eyes. The boy couldn't be more than eighteen with dark brown hair that brushed the nape of his neck and laughing green eyes. The boy perused the bookcases, glancing over his shoulder through long eyelashes.
"This is a nice room, Lord Greengrass," the boy said. "You've read all these books?"
"Most of them. I'm working on it. I replace the books on the bookshelves every time I finish all of them. You've seen the library," Alois said gently. His eyes were so gentle and he looked so loose. It wasn't the father that Daphne and Astoria had known for the longest time.
"I can't imagine doing that," the boy said, softly.
"It's like a 1950's lesbian pulp novel," Astoria said to herself with a sneer. "Their tawdry love can only flourish in the shadows."
She jerked as the scene around them seemed to melt away. A young Daphne, no older than seven, sat on the floor, cross-legged. Little four year old Astoria sat on her lap and they were watching their mother play the harp, a concentrated look on her beautiful face.
"I like Seth. He's funny," little Daphne grinned.
Gwendoline frowned. "I don't pay him to be funny. I pay him to teach you the violin. Is he succeeding?"
"Yes," Daphne said with a frown. She hummed, furrowing her little brows. "But, can he be funny too?"
Gwendoline's gaze softened and she smiled, just a tad forced, down at her daughter. "Of course, cariad. Now, hush, I have to practice."
The scene melted back and Astoria winced when she saw the boy, Seth, closer to her father now. She remembered him somehow, but it was like her memory was fuzzy. She could see fuzz at the edges of the memory, the parts that belonged to her, but the combination of Gwendoline and Alois' memories helped make it clearer. Even from her father's study, she could hear her mother's harp.
"What's that?" Seth asked, his pink lips so plump and tempting.
"Brandy. The Muggles do make good alcohol, I must admit."
"Is it any good?" Seth asked curiously, only having had wizarding alcohol.
"Yeah. You want some?" Alois asked.
Seth nodded, slowly, leaning against the desk. "Sure."
Alois slowly poured brandy from the crystal bottle into the snifter. He held it just out of Seth's greedy reach and laughed. Seth shook his head.
"This place is like a museum, Lord Greengrass. It's beautiful, really. You must do a shitload of work to upkeep it," Seth murmured and he sighed, leaning back, arching his neck as he looked at Alois with those pretty green eyes.
"Yes. Mostly by myself," Alois said.
"You must be fit, my Lord," Seth purred, slowly straightening.
The harp music paused.
"Not too bad if I say so myself. I might still break a heart or two. You'd be surprised what someone my age knows how to do," Alois murmured and he leaned forward, pushing back from the desk. His thighs slowly spread open and Seth's eyes narrowed on the snifter. "You want it?"
"Yeah," Seth whispered.
"Then, unbutton your shirt," Alois hissed.
The harp music began again.
"Is that your wife playing the harp?" Seth murmured as he crawled across the desk and sat on the edge. His legs dangled between Alois'.
Alois hummed. "Don't worry about her."
"Oh Merlin…" Astoria whispered.
The two scenes seemed to meld together and somehow, Astoria could see both.
Gwendoline crooned a quiet tune with her harp playing. Little Daphne and little Astoria looked so intrigued by her, awe and wonder in their eyes. Gwendoline's lips twitched as she played, as if she knew what they were thinking. She suddenly paused and then shook her head, murmuring, "Maybe not right now… but, something's wrong."
Daphne could see it in her father's face as Seth crawled into his lap, kissing at his neck. He didn't even have to voice his thoughts. It was written on his face. He wanted. He wanted so bad that it caused him agony and Seth smirked against the man's neck. He knew that type of married guy, as if he had done it plenty of times before. He knew Alois wanted him. Just him.
Seth hissed when Alois pulled back. Seth followed his gaze. He was staring at the moving picture of his giggling girls. Seth sneered and tipped the picture forward. Just him.
The harp playing stopped.
Seth slowly pulled his wand, waving it behind Alois' neck. Alois choked.
"Avada Kedavra."
Alois watched as the body slid off him. Gwendoline stood in the doorway, her expression cold and ruthless. Little Daphne and Astoria hid behind her skirts, staring wide-eyed at the dead body on the floor. Alois flushed and stood up.
"What the fuck, Gwen?"
"I won't lose my honour over my husband dying while fucking a boy."
Astoria emerged from the memory, coughing, her eyes wild. Hermione stared at her with heavy-lidded eyes, curiosity written across her face. Astoria swallowed hard, processing and she ran her fingers through her hair, shaking with anxiety.
"What did you see?" Hermione asked.
"Well… I know why my parents don't get along now."
The Sutter House, England, Great Britain
Saturday the 4th of December 1999
7:30 PM
Heather looked around, cringing in the tight green velvet dress her mother had squeezed her into. Her hair was sleaked back across her skull like a wet waterfall, lips painted red. They stared at her. All stares, and they were devouring her alive. She was drowning it, and she felt disgusting.
"Mama!" Heather called, her lower lip trembling as she looked around at all the men that watched her as if she were a piece of meat. She nearly flinched when an older man licked his lips at her, smirking.
Greta glowered over her shoulder at Heather before turning back to the amassed group of men that were waiting for her pretty daughter. Her lips curled into a small smile, tight and refined. "Ah, may I introduce to you all, my wonderful daughter, Heather Sutter."
Heather's training made her drop into a short curtsey and Greta nodded sharply in approval. Heather turned back to the group and crossed her arms over her chest, looking away as her cheeks felt hot. Heather stepped forward, ignoring her embarrassment. Greta leaned over her shoulder.
"Make them want you," Greta commanded in a quiet whisper and Heather nodded, sharply. She knew her duty. She knew what she was made for.
"Hello!" Heather nearly shouted. She winced. "My name is… Heather Rose… Sutter. What's yours… sir?" She nearly blushed. She cursed herself. She was Heather Sutter. She was a badass. She shouldn't let her mother reduce her to a mess. Heather turned back to the magical microphone and let a slow turn. "Mr. Piano Player, if you please. Let me entertain you all."
And she leaned forward, grasping the microphone, she winked at her mother and the young man standing next to her. He flushed and Heather's smile curled into a wider smile. She purred the low lyrics out. She had never been much of a singer— didn't have the range for it— but Mama had insisted. She would put her lessons to work even as she sang out in her low contralto, cutting through the foggy ambiance Mama had worked so hard to create. Heather glanced at Mama. She was nodding her approval, watching her slowly. She leaned over and whispered something to the young man standing next to her and he nodded swiftly.
Heather's lips curled into a smile as she finished up the song, her voice lingering in the silence. She tossed her head back and gave a throaty laugh as the room erupted into overeager applause with stray whistles from here and there.
"We had a real good time, didn't we?" Heather purred and she nearly squeaked when the strap of her dress slid off her shoulder, revealing a flash of the flesh of her chest. She pulled up the strap and walked down from the small dais, making a beeline to her mother.
"Fine singing, Heather," Greta complimented.
"Oh, yes. You sound beautiful," the young man said eagerly and Heather's lips twitched.
"Thank you, sir. Mama, please do let everyone know that I'll be coming around soon. I just wish to speak to this young man more," Heather simpered and Greta nodded once, though her eyes were shrewd. Heather could never get anything past her mother and they both knew it.
Greta glided away, pasting a motherly smile across her face.
"I-I'm Ross Clearwater."
"Clearwater? One of mother's associates is Lord Clearwater!" Heather giggled.
Clearwater flushed. "Um… my uncle. I'm not part of the main branch. I work for the Daily Prophet though."
"Oh, how impressive. I think… I think I may have read your article. You had a byline, yes? About the Ministry's recent successes?" Heather giggled and she leaned into the man, batting her pretty eyelashes at him. He stared at her, mesmerized by the curve of her lips and he nodded along, looking very much like a bobblehead.
"Yes, yes. Actually, well, maybe—" Clearwater said. He wanted to impress, but Heather could see him holding back.
"Oh, Ross, darling, is everything alright?" Heather asked, her voice high and sweet.
Clearwater nodded, excited. "It's just, when I was gather information on that article, I found some very interesting information. You see, the Ministry is hiding quite a lot."
Heather's eyes sparkled and she dragged him to the couch, perching herself on his knees. She smoothed her hands down the lapels of his robes and smiled sweetly. "Oh, Ross, my dear, tell me everything."
The Leaky Cauldron, London, England, Great Britain
Saturday the 4th of December 1999
10:00 PM
"Where have you been?" Romilda demanded.
"Scrubbing myself raw," Heather spat. "My mother decided that she wanted to throw me to a bunch of wolves tonight. Or rather, a group of over eager men, waiting to just eat me up."
"Mon ami, you must stand up to you maman, or it will never get better. You know zis," Dominique said, sympathetically and Heather glowered at her friend and she ran her fingers through her blonde waves, trying to comb out all of the disgusting Sleakeazy that was left over, even after she had washed her hair three times.
"If you had my Mama, you wouldn't be saying that. And she's good to me. She's just drying to secure my future. Now, can we go? I'm ready to wreck some shit," Heather spat and she dumped her robes on the inn bed, leaving her in only her undergarments. "Who's the bait tonight?"
"No bait. Just hunting," Romilda said as she tossed a bag at Heather. Heather pulled out tight black trousers and a dark green turtleneck. She shimmied into Romilda's clothing and pulled out a pale wand. She tossed it to Romilda.
"No bait? Why not?" Dominique sighed.
Romilda grinned. "We've got an audience tonight, girls."
Dominique and Heather exchanged looks of excitement and Heather grinned as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and hummed. "So she finally got tired of being excluded. Good. I wasn't sure if she would ever grow a pair and demand to be a part of it all."
"She knows where we're going to be?" Dominique asked.
"Let it slip that we were going out tonight along Muggle London, and said that she wasn't invited. You know how she gets about shit like that," Romilda snickered and Dominique nodded sagely. Romilda shrugged on her black dress robes, lined with red velvet and her lips curled back into a smirked. "Happy hunting, ladies."
The three walked down the stairs, emerging into the pub with determined smirks on their faces. Romilda pretended that she didn't see the flash of white blonde at the corner of her eye. Instead, she nodded at Tom the barman, and emerged into Muggle London, bright and busy on a Saturday night despite the freezing temperatures. Dominique discreetly lifted her wand.
"Point me Muggle scum," Dominique giggled.
The wand spun in the palm of her hand and Romilda nodded once and followed Dominique's lead. They walked the twisting streets, cutting through the busiest parts of the cities. Muggle nightlife always produced the right type of prey for the three girls. Romilda cracked her knuckles and smirked.
"I got the first one tonight, ladies," Romilda warned.
Heather rolled her eyes. "I think I've had a much harder time tonight than you."
"The next two times can be yours."
"You just want a show for Ariana," Heather pouted and Romilda only winked.
They turned down an alleyway and Romilda only paused for a moment to take in the sight. The man's hand was clamped tight around the girl's mouth, his nails digging into her cheek, his palm nearly in her mouth. His leg was pushed between hers, pushing her skirt farther up until it was nearly around her waist. The man's other hand was rubbing along the inside of her thigh, his fingers brushing against her knickers. Romilda snarled and launched forward, tackling the man and tumbling to the ground with him.
"Get her out of here. Make sure she's okay," Romilda snarled as she landed in a crouch, watching the man stand straight once more. He was a big one, over six feet, and it sent a thrill to her body, her black bird eyes flashing.
"Oui," Dominique agreed as she reached forward for the girl and ushered her down the alleyway.
"Watch my back," Romilda warned and Heather nodded once, cracking her knuckles.
"Got it."
The two girls ran forward and though the man caught Romilda by the neck, he was unprepared for Heather to launch herself onto his back and bring her arm around his neck, crushing his windpipe. He made a loud gagging sound, and tried to buck Heather off. Heather's grip slipped and she stumbled backwards, knocking over a trash can. She grabbed the trash can cover and slammed it down on the back of the man's, making him crumple.
"Elinguem," Romilda snarled, and the man roared, as his tongue flew out of his mouth and onto the ground, a bloody pink muscle. "You like to silence girls, huh? How does it feel?"
The man bared his teeth, but she could see fear in his eyes now. Romilda knew this meant that he would get more violent. Animals always reacted more fiercely when terrified. He threw his fists at her and Romilda groaned as the punch connected with her jaw throwing her back. Before she could recover, he was standing over, stomping down on her stomach. Romilda's back arched and she coughed. Heather roared and pointed her wand.
"Decorio," Heather cast, the Skinning Curse catching the Muggle in the arm. He shrieked as he was flayed, the skin on his arm falling onto Romilda's stomach. She pushed it off, her stomach rolling and she leaped up, headbutting the man as he grabbed at his arm, twisting in agony. She felt her head fog up, dazed by the move, and was barely able to avoid another punch to the face though she was knocked to the side, into the wall.
Romilda raised her wand, ready to finish him off.
"Crucio!"
Romilda jerked back, her eyes widening as she watched the lumbering man crumple and begin to scream. She looked over her shoulder and saw Ariana at the mouth of alleyway, her wand held out, and her eyes blazing with absolute fury. She stormed down the alley, her gaze never twitching from the man and she reached down, grabbing him around the neck. His screams amplified and Romilda's stomach turned at the scent of cooking flesh.
"I'm fine," Romilda snapped. "Ariana."
Ariana ended the curse and stared down at the man. "Sorry excuse of a human being. Damn Muggle. I should just—"
"Avada Kedavra."
Ariana jerked back as Romilda fired the spell, watching as the man's twitching ended immediately, his life slipping away. Ariana looked up sharply, horror on her face.
"W-what? Is… is he dead?"
She looked around frantically and watched as Dominique and Heather slipped from the shadows and flanked Romilda, slight smiles on both of their faces. Ariana took another step backward but Romilda grabbed her wrist, keeping her in her iron grasp.
"Yo girl, keep it together. I knew you would come. Now, you're truly one of us," Romilda said gently and Ariana shook her head, trying to pull herself out of Romilda's grasp, jerking again.
"No… Milly no."
"She iz not looking so well," Dominique murmured. "But… she 'as earned it."
"Earned what?" Ariana demanded.
Romilda pulled her down the alleyway, her gaze narrowing. "Ariana is running on fumes now. Come back to the Leaky Cauldron. We'll explain everything to you. I promise. Come on. Come on."
"Why are you killing people?" Ariana demanded. Her hand grew hot again and Romilda jerked away, hissing in pain and she waved her hand.
"We're killing vermin," Heather spat. "Men that try to take advantage of women. Abusers. You know what an abuser looks like, yeah? What your mother did to you… what that man did to your Godmother!"
"The Light Lady," Romilda rasped.
Ariana stopped. She looked at Romilda in fear. "H-how…"
"I can taste her on you. I thought… I tasted it before. Come on," Romilda urged and Ariana's widened as Romilda grabbed onto her, pulling her close before this Disapparated with a sharp crack. Romilda released her as they landed in a dingy inn room and Ariana stumbled away from her, pointing her wand, dangerously.
Ariana fell back onto the bed, trembling in anxiety. Heather and Dominique Apparated into the room, holding their wands up against Ariana. Ariana moved her wand back and forth.
"Don't… don't come any closer," Ariana warned.
"Come now, Ariana. You were willing to torture a man because you thought I was about to die," Romilda said sharply.
Ariana's eyes widened. "You weren't?"
"Hell no. My parents raised me better," Romilda spat.
"Your parents raised you to hurt Muggles?" Ariana demanded.
Heather smirked. "I seem to remember you calling him a 'sorry excuse of a human being'. We do away with the abusive. But, we make it a game. Don't you want to go hunting with us?"
Ariana would be lying if she said no. She frowned, thinking what Bella would say. Bella would forbid it, labelling it dangerous. If Bella could, she'd lock Ariana away forever just so that she would never be hurt again. She was sure the woman would severely disapprove of her friends. Unless…
"I… I do. But, you have to do something for me," Ariana said sharply.
"Negotiation?" Dominique asked surprised.
Ariana nodded. "You know that I call the Light Lady my Godmother. Your parents know a lot. That means they're involved and know about this war and what it entails. You have to fight with me. We have to fight. Find control."
"Fight?" Romilda asked, and she looked thrilled by the word.
"You once asked 'Where is the control? What is control supposed to mean to us when we have none over our own lives?'," Ariana said. She leaned forward on the bed, her gaze never moving from Romilda's face. Romilda nodded, her lips twitching. "I wanted to tell you… control is liberty. I told you that in the bar. Control is liberty."
Dominique grinned. "Zen let us bring liberty."
Romilda nodded and pulled Ariana up off the bed. "I'd drink to that." She yanked Ariana down the stairs, the two other girls following her and they grabbed a dingy scraped table in the corner, by the fire. They ignored the leers and stares. The patrons of the local bars all knew Romilda and her rebel crew.
"Four ales, Tommy-sir!" Heather called and the nearly toothless barman smiled, nodding.
He pointed his wand, waving it and the ale appeared before them in dingy, scratch, and not quite clean glasses. Ariana grabbed hers first and took a long sip from it that nearly drained the glass.
"My Godmother keeps close ranks, but she will see your worth. And she'll protect you throughout the war. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you, and… I want to fight. I need to fight, and I want all of you by my side when I do," Ariana said firmly.
Romilda nodded. "Then you shall."
"I may not live to see our glory," Ariana intoned, looking at her girls and Romilda looked over at Heather and Dominique. They both grinned at the Gryffindor and nodded.
"I may not to live see our glory," they repeated.
Ariana smiled, wide. "But, I will gladly join the fight."
"But, I will gladly join the fight."
"And when the children tell our story, they will tell the story of tonight," Ariana finished the little promise they were making and she only grinned wider when Romilda stepped forward, grabbed her hand and squeezed as she repeated the sworn oath.
"And when the children tell the story, they will tell the story of tonight," her girls promised and somehow, once again, Ariana felt the world shift for them.
Romilda tilted her head. "Raise a glass to freedom. Something they can never take away, no matter what they tell you. Raise a glass to the four of us," Romilda commanded and the four girls all lifted their glasses of ale and took a long drink.
Heather smirked, foam on her upper lip. "There'll be more of us, soon."
"Telling ze story of tonight," Dominique contributed.
"They'll tell the story of tonight," Ariana confirmed and she looked around at these girls that belonged to her. She reached across the table and grabbed Romilda's hand. Romilda looked down at their joined hands in surprise and Ariana raised a glass to her. "Raise a glass to freedom."
Ministry of Magic, London, England, Great Britain
Saturday the 4th of December 1999
10:20 PM
Amelia waited behind her desk and glanced at Riddle. He was staring back at her, unperturbed by their strange staring contest as they waited for their last guest. Amelia did not need to take part in pleasantries. She knew the type of man that Tom Riddle was. She had officiated his wedding, and she remembered the softness in his eyes, present for only a moment, and then the coldness. It had been the only moment that she was sure that he loved Bella Potter. There had been moments when they visited Granger in the Ministry's holding cells, but even then, Amelia had seen coldness in his eyes.
"I am a busy man, Madame Bones. I have a wife that I very rarely see," Riddle finally said and Amelia raised her hand as she saw her door handle turn.
"Sorry that I was so—Tom?"
Riddle turned and saw his wife. Bella's lips curled into a smile and she loped forward, dressed in elegant white and emerald robes. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and he reached up, cupping her cheek, returning it. He pulled back, and still Amelia saw coldness.
"Please sit, Lady Gryffindor," Amelia said.
"Unnecessary. Come on, Amelia. You officiated my wedding for God's' sake," Bella said and she sat down in the seat next to Tom.
"This is official business."
Bella's smile dropped and she leaned forward, her gaze sharpening. It always struck Amelia—how strange this young woman looked now. As Bella Potter grew older, the more her face changed—changed by magic of some sort. Amelia remembered the glamour at the wedding, how Tom Riddle tore it from her face, revealing the sharp alien cheekbones and the glowing green eyes.
"What is this about, Madame Bones?" Riddle asked in complete monotone.
Amelia leaned forward. "We are at war. The Minister will not acknowledge this. I wish to declare Martial Law, but I need your support in doing this. I need you to gather the Light Denomination and the Dark Sect and officially vote."
Bella was silent and she looked down at her lap, her eyes grave.
"You want us to be the Hands," Riddle said, tonelessly.
Madame Bones crossed her legs and hummed, her fingers steepled and her chin resting atop them. She let out a long sigh.
"I want to win a war. We cannot do that under Scrimgeour's leadership. We all know this. Do you understand the power that I am giving to you?" Amelia asked, and she knew that was the way to grab them.
She could see the lust in Riddle's eyes, not much different from the gleam in Bella's. Bella leaned forward, licking her red, red lips, and her lips curled into a smile that Amelia had never quite seen on her face before.
"You will make us the living embodiment of Law. The most absolute Law," Bella hissed and Amelia nodded once. Bella fell back in her chair and she turned, hissing in Parseltongue at Riddle. He hissed back something, his dark eyes hard and he nodded once before turning to Amelia.
"We will call them," Riddle said and he stood, turning to look down at Bella. He turned to look at Amelia again, his eyes hard. "You will push Scrimgeour out. You have our votes. Nothing more."
"The House of Families is all that I require," Amelia said lightly.
Riddle nodded and held out his hand to Bella. She rose gracefully, looking almost lightheaded and she slid her hand into Riddle's. He pulled her close and they disappeared into the growing shadows. Once Amelia was sure they were gone, she stood and immediately exited her office, stalking towards the lift.
Amelia descended into the Department of Mysteries, her face still as stone. The cool woman's voice announced her arrival on the lowest level of the Ministry and she walked down the black stone hallway. The door swung open before her, and she stood in the round room of many doors. Amelia lifted her wand again and the room spun around her until the door she searched for landed before her. She entered the Training Room, her eyes narrowed.
As she emerged, she looked at the recruits—ten of them. Only ten. Ten and completely secret.
She spotted the Weasley pair, Gideon and Ginny. They were quite a duo, she knew. She had read the carefully cultivated files. Between the two of them, their reaction time to situations was practically 5 seconds. Combined with Christine Jackson, the young woman standing next to them, they were an elite force— the pride of her Strike Team. Unspeakables and Aurors, the cream of the crop stood before her in a mass of destructive beauty. Amelia would no longer need to waste dozens of Aurors in battles. Just the ten would be all she needed.
"How are they doing?" Amelia asked.
He didn't turn to look at her. He only nodded his head once and the ten recruits stomped once and saluted. Amelia's lips curled into a satisfied smile.
"Are they nearly ready?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, humming as he looked them over.
Amelia's lips curled into a tiny sneer as she felt his grey magic churning, a constant battle between Light and Dark. It was just to show that no matter how hard a wizard tried, they couldn't change their nature— only their ideology— and she was glad that he had. She wasn't sure if they would have won the First War without him.
"Strikers, when you emerge into the real world, you will assimilate. You will appear to be like any other Auror. When you are in battle, they will all see otherwise. Do you understand?" Amelia demanded.
"YES, LEADER."
Amelia raised an eyebrow and he smirked. "I've trained them ahead of time," he said, smirking. "I know you were meeting with Bella and Riddle. You're planning to oust Scrimgeour."
Amelia pursed her lips. "And what do you have to say to that?"
"I think it's about time. He's incompetent."
Amelia took a step forward and smirked at him. "That's because he's not you. Command."
Sirius Black smiled and dipped his head.
"You're right. He's not me. He's not Command. I'm Command."
Zabini House, London, England, Great Britain
Saturday the 4th of December 1999
11:59 PM
Blaise sat before the mirror, and he swallowed hard. He pressed heel of his hand into his eye, refusing to look at it. He growled when heat exploded from it, and slowly he looked at himself in the mirror. His right eye was no longer golden, but the swirling heat of a sunset— his iris was bright orange and the sclera like blood. He swallowed hard, and he looked down at his trembling hands. He clenched them into fists to stop the trembling.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered to himself. He jerked, clutching his chest, as if something was trying to claw its way out of him.
He had to be wise about this. Blaise had been making notes about the changes in him. He was growing more tired each day. He was weakening. He couldn't focus for long periods of time. His gaze faded in and out sometimes, revealing only black. He imagined that happened when his eyes changed. He wondered if this was what it felt like to die.
He was dying.
Blaise swallowed looked at the potion on the dresser. He hadn't taken a potion in years now. Blaise stood and reached for the potion. He looked at it. He unstoppered it, immediately and downed in without a second thought. He waited, tilting his head back as he settled back into his chair.
"Nothing left to do," he whispered to himself. Only time alone could prove if his theory was true: if he was dying.
Suddenly, he felt his chest throb again, and he fell off the chair, clawing at his chest. He couldn't explain the unbearable pain. It was devouring him—consuming him. He bit down on his tongue, and his mouth filled with blood, but he didn't care. He couldn't let his neighbours know something was happening to him.
"Uncontrolled… what is this," he rasped, as he felt his own limbs jerk as if he were on the end of strings. His body moved in an upwards position, and his neck cracked.
Something was taking hold, and there was so much agony. Filling him. Killing him.
"Out of breath," he growled in a voice that was not his own. "What is this?"
Blaise threw himself back, knocking his chair over as he tried to gain control of his body again. Then, it was as if he was thrown into the backseat of his own body, and he was looking out of the eyes of someone else. Blaise struggled and slowly his body stood. He gasped when he saw the matching sunset eyes.
"Look at me," the voice purred, the sound like gravel. "It's me, Blaise."
Blaise struggled, trying to wrench control back. The voice laughed, and it was Blaise's own voice, but not at all—not really.
Let me go, Blaise snarled in his own mind.
"Oh, no, I won't do that. I'm finally alive again, Blaise. I'm not ready to go back in just yet. I have a thirst, you see. I've never felt so alive. There's no battle I couldn't survive. I crave blood, dear Blaise," the voice said, and he cracked his neck, stripping his body of clothes. Blaise watched in horror as the voice used his own magic to make golden robes fall over his body, and he pressed his fingers to his face.
Blaise felt a twinge of pain as the voice remolded his face with glamour magic. Blaise's skin lightened a few shades, but his dark curls could not be changed.
"I was never a fan of being brunette, but I suppose not all things can be changed."
Get out of me! GET OUT OF MY BODY!
"Our body, dear boy. Don't tell me you don't like this magic. I certainly do. It feels like being alive! Filled with cruelty, but truly alive! It's a truth can't be denied. It's the feeling of being Phoebus Apollo!"
:::
A/N: Okay, first thing is first. Shout out to my dope as fuck beta, Bmah. She's the best. She knows it. Lol this is the first time in all of my Inside My Mind/Masquerade history that I've had someone beta anything and it literally reads like 10 times better. She's the best. Please, everyone, leave a comment and tell her how awesome she is.
Moving on, yeah it's been a while. Sorry. College is kicking my ass. Being a double major in international relations and human health is hard. Also, I'm going to try and write like 5 chapters before I publish the next one so I can have a few consecutive ones come out. I've outlined the next 5 chapters. I just have to kinda write them. Fantastic Beasts gave me a lot of writing inspiration. It's been a while since I've fully immersed myself in the Harry Potter world. I think I need to do that again.
Drop a review, please. It makes me write faster, hahaha.
Next Chapter: Command, Glory, the Weasleys, and Considering the Coconut with a dash of Letters and Ariana being a Dumbass so we gotta get back to Bella and making her awesome.
