AN: Written for Round 4 of QFL, twisted fairy tale AU of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens and A Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen.
Warnings: Child abuse, child neglect, death of a child, death of a parent, major character death, hallucinations, violence, graphic depictions of bodily harm.
Wordcount: 3022
Prompt: Roanoke
Optional Prompts:
(character) Severus Snape
(AU) twisted fairy-tale
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, A Christmas Carol, or The Little Match Girl
Christmas Carol
Lucius Malfoy had wormed his way out of any convictions after the Second Wizarding War. A year later, his fortune, title, and position were still intact. Many still despised him, but Lucius did not condescend to pay them any notice. They were gnats, and therefore undeserving of even his scorn.
Narcissa and Draco had abandoned him shortly after the court proceedings. Narcissa fled to France, while the brat was gallivanting around America with Potter, of all people. Other than an occasional bout of disgust, Lucius paid it no mind. He would have no difficulty finding another bride with which he could sire a proper heir.
Lucius was walking through Wizarding Way one evening, his cloak thick and impervious to the winter freeze, when something tugged on the hem.
A little girl was crouching on the sidewalk, clinging to a handful of matches. Her feet were naked, and the frock and apron she wore were covered in holes and patches. The snow and ice glistened against her beautiful black curls as she shivered. Lucius Malfoy saw none of this—only the dirt that covered the hand clutching his expensive robe.
"Would you p-please buy some matches?" the little girl whispered, her voice trembling, "They're only a kn-knut e-each." She pulled a handful from the thin apron. Lucius sniffed in irritation, kicking her to the ground. He leaned towards her and whispered menacingly, "Listen closely, pathetic urchin. As it is Christmas Eve, I shall give you the gift of mercy. However, should you ever disturb my presence with your pitiful existence or sully my robes with your filth again, I will not be so forgiving."
Lucius apparated, giving no further thought to the broken soul that lay on the frozen pavement.
Later that night, Lucius lay tossing and turning in his large four-poster bed. The room was slowly growing colder, causing him to shiver. Growing frustrated, he called for his house-elf, Melly.
When the elf did not appear, Lucius got out of bed, preparing to find and curse the ancient and unreliable elf, when he spotted a small mass huddled by the door. "Melly! Get up and do something! It's bloody freezing!"
There was no response, and a nervous chill crept up Lucius's spine.
"Melly?" He whispered, grabbing his wand and casting a Lumos.
The mass on the floor was not his house-elf, but a little girl encased in ice, her brown eyes staring at him blankly.
With a shout, he dropped his wand, causing the light to vanish.
When he retrieved the wand, casting the spell again, the room was empty.
Disgusted by his paranoia, Lucius left the room in a huff, silently promising retribution for Melly. He made a cup of tea and sat by the fire in the parlour. The minutes ticked by, with no warmth, even when he positioned his hands directly in front of the flames.
It's so cold… so cold…
Lucius bolted upright and scanned the room.
After a moment, he shook his head fiercely, sure that he had imagined it.
Why did you have to be so cruel?
The voice was loud and angry. Lucius refused to acknowledge it.
Mybodyisicemytummyhurtsyoukickedmeican'tgetup
"STOP IT!" Lucius shouted as the whispers moved faster, words tumbling together.
Can'tmovecan'tbreatheithurtsithurts
He plugged his ears and shut his eyes, attempting to block out the condemning voice.
youdidthisyoudidthisYOUDIDTHISlookatmelookatmelookatme...
LOOK AT ME!
His eyes flew open. The child he'd seen in his room was now lying in the fetal position in front of him, her ice-covered fingers clutching the hem of his robes. Lucius tried to pull away, to no avail. A creaking sound from below caused him to freeze in fear. His heart began to pound as he realized the sounds were coming from the child.
With a sickening crack, her neck snapped upwards, causing some of her curls to break at the sudden movement. Like the rest of her body, her face was black, blue, and covered in a layer of snow and ice. Lucius tore at his robes a final time, causing them to rip.
As she stood, a crackling sound rose with her. She began to edge her way towards him, her limbs jerking and twisting in unnatural angles. As he backed into the corner, she continued her advance, her body sounding as though it might shatter at any moment. Her arm snapped forward, the fragment of his robe now frozen to her hand.
In one grotesque move, the skin on her lips cracked and scattered as she released a blood-curdling scream into the air.
The fire snuffed out, leaving the room pitch black.
Lucius tried to calm himself. Someone had obviously seen his exchange with the pest and used it as an excuse to attack him. He pointed his wand towards the fire, lighting it again.
This time, a young woman emerged from the shadows. At first glance, she was beautiful, tall, and lithe, with midnight black hair in ringlets down her back. Her skin was pale and immaculate, giving her an angelic appearance, and her large brown eyes were rimmed with long black eyelashes.
As she came further into the light, he noticed something… off… about her. There was something cruel and dark lurking behind her beautiful eyes. Her lips had a blue tinge. There was something familiar about the tattered dress and apron she wore. Her dress moved with a nonexistent breeze, and her hair and clothes seemed to sparkle by the light of the fire.
The woman stopped in front of him, her face completely void of emotion. Lucius awoke to the fact that a woman had somehow gotten past the wards and entered his home. She was likely responsible for the strange things that had been occurring.
In a flash of anger, Lucius rose and pointed his wand. "Who are you? What are you doing in my home?"
The woman was silent as she rose to his level.
"Answer me!" he demanded.
She didn't move or even flinch. Lucius eyed her speculatively for a moment before speaking again, "Despite your attire, you are rather beautiful and must have some talent to break through my wards." Lowering his wand slightly, "come now, darling, why don't you tell me how you did it? If you do, I'll simply curse you within an inch of your life instead of killing you. Tell me now, and I will show mercy."
Her face twisted into a snarl, and her eyes turned the same shade of black as her hair.
She wrapped her hand around his throat and shoved him against the wall. A stale scent hit his nostrils as though the air itself had frozen around her. He lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to bear meeting her gaze any longer. At that moment, something caught his eye. There was something in the pocket of her apron. Were those… matches?
Matches...
Her skin...
Her clothes…
The whispers…
Matches…
Lucius was overwhelmed with a feeling of dread.
"Please, miss..." The woman tightened her icy grip on his throat.
Lucius watched in horror as her lips twitched, as though she was trying to open her mouth. He realized that, like the little girl, her lips were frozen together. After several seconds, the ice cracked, sending shards everywhere as her mouth opened, and she shouted, "MY NAME IS CAROL! SAY IT!"
"C-carol." He stuttered, gasping for breath.
She dropped him to the floor, and Lucius looked over to where his wand lay. There was no chance he would get to it before her. He apparated, not seeing any other options, briefly wondering why he hadn't done that from the start.
SLAM
When he opened his eyes, he was still in the Manor, having bounced off of the wards. He was trapped.
The woman… Carol, he corrected himself, afraid to use anything but her name even in his mind, leaned towards him until their noses were almost touching, and slowly shook her head back and forth. She didn't have to speak for Lucius to know what she was saying.
"Okay, okay… I won't try to leave." He promised. "What do you want from me?"
Her answering smile was ghastly, her teeth and tongue wholly blackened.
Dark magic flowed throughout the room, slamming into him and knocking him unconscious.
When he opened his eyes again, hundreds of spirits surrounded him, most of which he didn't recognize.
The Bones family approached him. The woman, missing an arm and covered in slashes, put her hand through his chest and whispered, "Croatoan."
He looked up at his former self, screaming in agony as he was tortured and killed by his own wand.
He gasped as he was released from the terrifying vision. He had been seeing through the eyes of the woman, living her death as though it were his own.
Still smiling, Carol began to speak. Lucius violently shivered as darkness seemed to pour from her mouth.
"Dirt could not soil your robes, Lucius Malfoy, for they are soaked through with the blood and tears of a thousand souls. It drips into puddles, flows like rivers and oceans, following you wherever you go. You bathe in it, glory in it, carry it like a badge of honour. The Gods have seen you, Lucius Malfoy. It is Christmas eve, and they have given us a gift." She paused, touching her frozen hand to his face, "Vengeance,"
She released him and vanished. Another spirit approached, and the next vision began.
Benjy Fenwick blasted to pieces.
Time and time again, the spirits tormented him.
The rest of the Bones family, tortured and murdered.
Lavender Brown and a five-year-old boy ripped apart by Fenrir Greyback.
Sirius Black, falling through the veil.
Colin Creevy, crushed beneath a wall.
Remus and Tonks Lupin, taken by the killing curse.
Muggles and Muggleborns, Countless witches and wizards,
Killed for refusing to join, or simply for sport,
Tortured for information, treated as playthings.
Men, Women, and children.
Even babies, held by their parents.
With each hand and each whisper of the cruel word, he faced their final moments, being killed, tortured, and mocked repeatedly by his former self. In some cases, he hadn't been present, but he was all too aware of the part he had played.
When the last of them, a pregnant woman he had tortured to death, stepped away from him, he vomited, continuing to heave long after his stomach was empty.
When he looked up, Severus Snape was standing in front of him, his skin sallow, black, and littered with snake bites.
Lucius gasped in relief.
"Severus, my dear friend! You must help me! You-"
He stopped abruptly when Severus shook his head. Panicked, he pleaded, "Sev-Severus… Surely you do not intend to torment me further? I.. I had nothing to do with your death."
Like the others, Severus showed no emotion, "Oh, but you did, Lucius. You sold your own son to Riddle. You may claim fear and cowardice, but we both know it was greed that led you to do so. If I hadn't killed Dumbledore, Draco would have been killed. I was murdered because I stayed in service to protect him when you would not." He approached Lucius, thrusting his hand into his chest, "I am here to exact revenge for myself, as well as my godson. Croatoan."
He was in front of the Dark Lord, pleading for mercy. It was not given. Nagini pierced through his skin, again and again, the venom flowing through him like molten lava. When the snake had finished her task, he lay there, waiting to die. The last thing he saw was the sad eyes of Harry Potter.
Lucius came out of the vision with a gasp, clutching his hand to his heart. His mind broke as he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, drowning and guilt and sorrow. He flinched and crawled away when Carol reappeared.
"Please!" he screamed. "No more! Have mercy, I beg of you!"
Stiff lips brushed against his ear as Carol leaned in to whisper, "Where was the mercy for all of those you killed, Lucius Malfoy? Where were the sorrow and the guilt for those whose deaths you were complicit in? Hmm?"
Tiny fingers gripped his chin, digging frozen nails into his skin and forcing him to meet her gaze. The frozen little girl had replaced the beautiful woman, her eyes once again black and her features twisted with the evil snarl.
"No... nononononono."
"That's right." she growled, "The woman you saw was a shadow of the woman I might have become. It was because of you that I died tonight, alone, frozen, and in the dark. With my last agonizing breath, I cursed you."
She released him, and he scrambled away, rocking back and forth as he tried to block out the voice that permeated every nerve in his body.
"Now, Lucius, as it is Christmas Eve, I have a gift for you."
"NO! PLEASE! NO,"
She carried on as though she hadn't heard him, sounding as though she was offering a toy to a child, "Because I cast the curse, you get to live my life, as well as my death. After which, you will suffer my fate. That is the true curse; you see, to die the same way as the person who cast it."
Instead of pushing her ghostly hand through his chest, she ran her icy fingers through his hair before whispering, "Croatoan."
She is born on Christmas Day.
Her name is Carol.
Mommy and Daddy love her.
They call her their Christmas Carol.
The early days are wonderful.
They have little, but they love each other.
They are happy.
Mommy is sick in bed.
Mommy says goodbye to Christmas Carol.
Mommy is gone.
Daddy is sad.
His drink smells funny.
He doesn't call her Christmas Carol.
Daddy has lost his job.
Daddy has lost his magic.
Daddy is angry.
Daddy hits her.
There is no food.
There is no money.
Daddy calls her "Brat."
Daddy makes her sell matches.
Most days, she doesn't sell any.
Daddy hits her on those days.
Some days, daddy hits her anyway.
It is Christmas eve.
It is freezing and snowy.
Her dress and apron do not keep her warm.
Two boys stole her shoes.
No one buys a match.
She cannot go home.
Daddy has been drinking the smelly stuff.
She is so cold.
She is so hungry.
She sees a man.
She is desperate.
She begs for his help.
He is angry.
He kicks her.
He tells her it is mercy.
He says he will kill her.
He leaves her behind.
It hurts so bad.
She is so cold.
So cold.
She feels her body growing stiff.
She cannot breathe.
She is scared.
She is angry.
The Man.
He did this.
He is evil.
She whispers one last word, "Croatoan."
Shadows of his victims greet her in the darkness.
A lone figure skulks through Wizarding Way. His robes are torn to shreds, and blood is dripping from various shallow wounds. His hair is missing in several places.
He stops in an alley, picking up a tiny figure covered in ice.
He moves her to the front of the building, where she will be seen.
His task completed, he moves back to the wall, whispering louder. "DaddyDarkColdCroatoan." His eyes glow with madness as he uses his wand to carve into the wall.
"MommyChristmasHungryHurtCroatoan,"
He drops his wand, staring at the wall for a few moments.
"ManEvilBloodCroatoan,"
He carves at the wall with his fingers, paying no mind to the ice slowly spreading over his skin, "HurtCan'tMoveCan'tBreatheAngryAngryAngry."
His body is being entombed in ice.
"CroatoanCroatoanCroatoanCroatoanCroatoanCroatoanCroatoan."
It was Christmas morning, but the atmosphere in Wizarding Way was anything but cheerful as a group of Aurors crowded around a gruesome scene. "Poor thing," an Auror said, "I wonder what she was doing with those matches." he looked towards his partner, who shrugged in reply, "Frankly, I'm more concerned about the wall."
The word "Croatoan" was carved on nearly every brick.
"Do you know something about it?" The first auror asked, still more focused on the child.
"It's a legend that began in the Colonies, in a place called Roanoke." The man had spent several years trailing after mysteries in the states and was very familiar with this one. "120 muggle settlers vanished, and that word was found carved into a tree. There have been many other disappearances throughout the centuries where that word was found at the scene."
Just then, "Hey boss, we have a wand over here!"
The pair rushed into the alley, glancing sideways at each other in shock. Everyone in the country knew that wand on sight. Lucius Malfoy.
"The magical signature on the wall matches this wand."
The lead auror turned to his partner, "What happened to the others you told me about?"
His partner gulped, "It's assumed they all died. It's believed to be a curse, placed by the dead."
The lead auror shook his head, "Well, let's get the little girl taken care of, and then we can look into Malfoy."
The team nodded and set to work.
Lucius Malfoy was never found.
They would never discover the truth of what happened that night. The Aurors were able to locate the little girl's home, but it was empty, aside from a journal.
Inside, a mother had written of her hopes and dreams for her little Christmas Carol.
The second half of the book contained ramblings about a woman covered in ice, being plagued with hunger and fear, never being able to warm himself, and being tormented by his dead wife.
In the last few pages, one word was written over and over: "Croatoan."