Another deep wound was sliced in the flesh of my left forearm; smoothly disfiguring my skin. It was oozing out blood and slowly covering the hideous mark. My stomach clenched tightly. I was sure if I had eaten recently, my stomach would have emptied itself without my permission. I lightly pressed my index finger against the centre of the cut and suck in a sharp breath as the pain spiralled all across my arm. Colourful spots contoured my sight and I bit my lip from the sharp pain.
After a few minutes or hours – I couldn't say – I averted my gaze from the grotesque sight. With painful gritted teeth, I lifted my trembling hand and placed it on the fresh injury. The acute burning made me whimper. I waited until the pain subsided to a mere throb before focusing my magic. A light shining escaped the space where the palm of my hand touched the repelling scared skin.
Not even a minute later, I exhaled a shaking breath when I removed my hand again. Groaning, my gaze fell back on the disfigured dark mark. I contorted my face in disgust and glared with all the hatred I could muster. So desperately I wanted to burn it out of my flesh. The pain throbbed in my arm, it was deep and warm, but not in a nice way. It felt like someone was burning my flesh from the inside.
On flabby legs, I crossed my small room to the old sink squeezed in a corner. I forced myself to hold the injured arm under the cold water. A sharp stitching pain shot through my arm and I growled lowly. The fingers of my left hand bore their nails deeply into the palm. My right hand clutched the sink for dear life.
My eyes stung as I watched the last red drops cascade down my hand. I took a deep breath before clenching my jaw tightly. Then I pressed the towel on my forearm. Now my lip started bleeding as I bit down hard to keep myself from crying out loud. Nobody knew what I was doing to myself…
Dozens of scars were dug into my Dark Mark; older ones, newer ones. They parted the mark in uncountable different parts. The snake's head was cut three times. I had not even spared the star-shaped flower. Although it was a fairy emblem, I simply couldn't look at it in combination with the Death Eater mark. There were even some fresh cuts still puffy, red and bloody. But none of them was as deep or long as the last one. I had cut my flesh neatly from the centre of the skull down to the head of the snake. In fact, the mark was barely even recognizable.
Absentminded, I took the white bandage and began wrapping it around my forearm. I felt relieved when the grotesque sight was hidden. Once again, I had decreased my rage and hatred. Once again, I had kept my body from magically healing my wounds. Although I knew very well they would heal on their own. The dark magic wouldn't fail to fulfil its duty; showing the dark mark as good as new in no time…
Sighing, I removed the remaining blood on the floor with a flick of my wrist. As I lay in bed merely few minutes later, I stared numbly at the ceiling. My body felt exhausted from the latest treatment but my mind was working tireless.
I was worried – constantly worrying… Going back to Hogwarts… If Draco was fine… If Harry was fine… … … If Severus was fine … … What I should do about him… … I wanted to be with him but knew I should keep my distance… For the greater good – an expression Dumbledore loved to use; I loathed it… I didn't want to die… What if I would die a slow and painful death? … What if my father had lied after all? … What if I just told all my friends, my brother and Severus the whole truth? … Would they be willing to kill me in order to end my father's twisted wickedness? … Was I ready to fight although I knew I would never live to see peace? … Could I fake hope and optimism for my friends? … For my brother? … For Severus?
"Welcome Aryanna Jackson… my daughter." Red, piercing eyes bore merciless in mine…
"How do you believe I succeeded to render your treacherous mother obedient…? I invented a spell to bind her magic. Your mother was strong… but I've always been stronger. Now, let me share a secret with you… Your mother didn't fall in love with me, Aryanna. I made her believe she had…"
My chest vibrated over my strong heartbeat; my insides turned ice cold. Just as I was about to walk backwards, I found myself trapped in a spell. I couldn't move my legs anymore, my feet standing forcefully on their recent place.
"I made sure nobody would ever oversee the daughter of Lord Voldemort…! I made sure you, Aryanna, would never forget your own blood! You're already bearing my mark since you were a new-born child. It faded but tonight I will wake it again…"
My father placed the tip of his wand gently on my skin. Then I screamed… Agonizing anguish erupted in my arm as if the Cruciatus Curse had been focused on my forearm. I squinted my eyes close and twitched to get away from my great agony. I wanted to faint… I wanted to die to get away from the pain…
Paralyzed, my gaze automatically wandered to my forearm… The mark was there… The black ink stood out hideously against my skin… My father came to a halt a few steps in front of me. An icy shiver wandered through my whole body. My insides clenched almost painfully.
"You belong by my side Aryanna. My friends and allies are your true folk! And the mark you bear is my assurance that your pathetic blood traitor and mudblood friends won't ever dare to fight me… Do you truly believe people will still be convinced you're on their side when they saw your mark? …Your mark is the visible evidence of your curse. I bound your life to mine! … If I should die you'll die as well!"
Without truly noticing, worry and fear had taken over these last weeks. Uncountable times, I had visited the graveyard in my dreams. I had taken the mark over and over again; every time as terrible as the first. My guilt had vanished, had been pushed into the deepest corner of my consciousness… I didn't know. I was incapable of feeling guilt for my behaviour or words any longer. I preferred it this way! It was so much easier to worry than feeling overwhelming guilt and desperation…
I didn't feel guilty for not visiting Severus the Saturday of my departure. Nor for ignoring my brother and Blaise completely. Or for not saying a word to my friends during the train ride. I hadn't said goodbye to anyone… Yet, I didn't feel guilty… Sooner rather than later…
The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large houses of London. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in the streets. The inhabitants living near Wool's muggle orphanage had retreated into the shade of their cool houses. The orphanage itself was a square building surrounded by high railings. It was run-down, but clean. Even if I ignored that my hated father had lived here, I still thought it was a grim place to grow up.
The one thing I despised the most about it was that it was surrounded by houses and streets and even more houses. There was not the smallest lawn anywhere. The orphanage had a garden but there wasn't one spot from which you wouldn't see either the building or the railings. And I couldn't be alone anywhere.
Therefore, I had taken it upon myself… Although I wasn't allowed to leave the orphanage – on Dumbledore's order – I snuck out almost every day. The first two weeks I had played along and stayed on the property. But when I had been informed that Dumbledore had called off the usual holidays at the seaside, it had been the final straw. In order to avoid attracting attention, I had rarely used magic and never transported me out of the building. Naturally, I had been caught sneaking out or back inside several times. After the second time, they had sent a letter to Dumbledore, promptly earning me a very serious letter in return the day after.
Trying to escape the burning heat, I was wandering through the streets. Early this morning, another owl from Hermione and Ron had arrived. Just like previous letters, I had burned it as soon as I had finished reading it without bothering to send a reply. There was no use anyway.
We can't say much about you-know-what, obviously … We've been told not to say anything important in case our letters go astray … We're quite busy but I can't give you details here … There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you …
That was as much as I got from them. Harry sent me letters as well. Apparently, we were both being left in the dark. Again, I wouldn't reply to his letters unsure of what to say in the first place. The faithful friend he was though, he kept sending me his Daily Prophets. To my utter outrage, Dumbledore had also somehow managed to cancel my own deliveries. Not that it mattered that much. The Ministry was successfully avoiding the subject of my father. They wouldn't write anything concerning the Death Eater's appearance during the Quidditch match, the evening of the third task or the imposter in Hogwarts.
Draco had kept his word and not written a single letter. It unnerved me to no end. I needed to know he was safe! I had thought about sending Hedwig or Ron's owl but they didn't even resemble the slightest Blaise' owl to cover up. Besides, the Ministry caught more and more owls and if the wrong person would read my letter, it could get Draco in great trouble.
Severus had sent me two letters. I still didn't know if I should shout at him the next time I saw him, or simply ignore him completely. His letters were as short, vague and useless as Hermione's and Ron's. If that wasn't actually annoying enough, he had had the audacity to command me to stay on the orphanage's property. Not asked, not pleaded – commanded!
This morning, I had burned another useless Daily Prophet. Their stupidity and blindness towards the truth was the only matter making me as furious as my father's return. The Minister for Magic was successfully ignoring the truth. The Ministry didn't do anything to reinforce the safety measures. Harry and I had been claimed liars plotting against the Ministry with Dumbledore on our side.
The narrow and dark alleyway I was walking down was as empty as the surrounding streets. The streetlamps from the crossing roads were casting a misty glow. My thoughts whirled chaotical in my mind. I was so frustrated with being expected to stay locked in. Severus and my friends set me on edge with their useless messages. I knew something was going on and Harry and I were the outsiders. Therefore, I was sure it had to do with my father's return; how could it not. And then the Ministry's ignorance? I had been close to sending Hedwig to the Daily Prophet; writing about the night at the graveyard. Somehow it annoyed me to no end that Hermione and Ron were together right now; most certainly at the Burrow. As yet, I hadn't received any invitation to join them. I wasn't looking forward fooling them to believe I was actually alright. But after weeks I was desperate to get out of here.
These furious thoughts whirled around in my head. My insides writhed with anger as a sultry, velvety night fell around me. Growling, I kicked a small stone, watching as it rebounded several times. Screw you Tom Riddle! … And screw you Dumbledore!
"Screw you!" I spat with great disdain. I threw my hands up and raised my head to the darkening sky. "SCREW YOU! … Merlin, I hate you both! … And I'll most certainly never cease to remind you! You bloody cruel, selfish, irritating, treachero-"
I stopped dead in my track. Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless. The stars, the moon, the streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. I was surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness.
For a split second I thought I had used magic in my anger before my reason caught up with my senses. I stood frozen on the spot. The cold was so intense I was shivering all over. Goose bumps erupted up my arms and an icy shiver run down my spine. I opened my eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing.
No! … It's impossible … they can't be here … they can't know I'm here… My mind stopped screaming the moment I heard the one thing I had been dreading. There was something in the alleyway that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths. A jolt of dread enwrapped my frozen heart as I stood trembling in the freezing air. Then suddenly I felt it… a creeping chill behind me…
A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly towards me, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes. Stumbling backwards, I couldn't do anything except staring as panic fogged my brain.
A pair of grey, slimy hands slid from inside the Dementor's robes, reaching for me. I was instantly ripped out of my paralyzed state. My mind started working again, repeating the same thoughts over and over again.
I can't fight it! … I can't! … I can't! … Don't know how to cast a Patronus! … Severus… HELP ME! … Please… I can't fight it!
There was laughter inside my own head; shrill, high-pitched laughter. I could almost smell the Dementor's putrid, death-cold breath filling my own lungs. The Dementor's fingers were closing on my throat. The high-pitched laughter grew louder and louder… Then a voice spoke inside my head.
"Bow to Death, Aryanna… it might even be painless… I would not know… I have never died… Or you join me… and stay alive… Don't be a fool… Don't let someone like Albus Dumbledore control your life…"
I saw my father's contorted laughing face clearly in my mind. I knew, I was never going to see Severus again…
Suddenly, the Dementor released his grip and I fell hard on the ground. My eyes ripped wide open, I took desperate, quick breaths to fill my lungs. I could see the cloud of my breaths in the freezing coldness. If my father was here I had no chance to run anymore. My panic kept me frozen on the spot, rendering me unable to move.
"Are you alright?"
I screamed and snapped my head up terrified. My heart pounded loudly against my ribcage. In front of me stood a short, brown haired man watching me with great concern. As soon as he realized that my whole body was shaking he kneeled down. Brown eyes took in my whole appearance.
"God… What happened to you?"
When my panic fogged mind slowly went back to work, I became aware that my long-sleeved T-shirt was sticking to me and drenched in sweat. I pulled myself on flabby legs and the man stood up as well.
"I… I…" I stuttered still shaken with dread. I could not believe what had just happened. Dementors… here… for me… I flinched when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.
"Where do you live?" Warmth and worry stared softly at me. I gulped and gripped my left forearm with my trembling hand. The sudden, itching pain brought me back to my senses. Moon, stars and streetlamps were back again. A warm breeze swept the alleyway.
"Wool's… Wool's orphanage…" I said quietly. The man's lips turned into a small smile and he nodded.
"It's not far, just around the corner actually. I can take you if you like…?"
I was only half listening and nodded absentminded. A light squeeze of my shoulder and my legs started moving automatically. Deeply lost in my thoughts and stormy emotions, I followed the man's lead. Had my father's voice been real? Or had my panicking mind simply fooled me? And where had they come from? Why had the Dementor left without actually hurting me?
Blinking, I took in my surroundings and found us standing right in front of the gates. The man had just rang the bell. My body was still freezing and trembling slightly. My arm throbbed uncomfortable in my tight grip. Even though it was a hot evening, I felt incredibly cold. The drenched shirt on my skin wasn't helping my body to warm up again.
"Aryanna! … Oh dear… What happened? … Sir?"
"I don't know, Madame. I found her in the middle of a deserted street, disturbingly disorientated and frightened."
The elder caregiver placed an arm around my shoulder and cast the man a grateful smile.
"Thank you very much, Sir! We've been worried when she didn't return in time."
After short goodbyes she led me inside and upstairs to my room. Although she asked several times, I never said a word about what had happened. What was there for me to tell? She was a muggle after all. Not ceasing her fussing, she made sure I took a long hot shower to warm up again. Then she sat down with me in the now empty dining room and refused to let me leave until I had eaten up. As she had brought me into my room, she sat down on my bed. The way she was acting towards me reminded me so much of Severus when he was worried about me. With that thought only adding to my troubling mind, she finally left me alone. Not without lecturing me once again and warning me that she would have to inform Dumbledore about the incident. I didn't react and simply stared at the ceiling of my room. Whilst my body was warmed up and calm again, my mind was quite the opposite.
What happened?