Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

Chapter 22

Voldemort whipped his head around violently and gazed into the distance as he suddenly felt something odd snap within his chest, his eyes piecing through the encroaching fog as they easily navigated through the looming trees that sought to impede his vision, even in the dark. His failed attempt to acquire the Dementors was still sore on his mind, but did not faze him as he had immediately turned to some of his more promising endeavours.

His brief distraction was then interrupted by a deep baritone voice that rumbled melodically through the forest, "Lord Voldemort, the Elders are ready."

Voldemort shook off the foreboding feeling, storing that thought away for later as he turned back to the figure that addressed him, not in the least intimidated by the muscly form that towered over him.

"Thank you, Bane, son of Brimerth," he nodded smoothly.

The mighty Centaur rumbled in surprise as he began to escort the enigmatic wizard to the inner sanctum of his clan's secret abode, "You knew my mother?" he asked curiously, his mighty hooves trotting past tense guards that stood vigilant as they carried flickering torches, illuminating the cracked, earthen path they walked on.

"I only know of the cruel fate that befell her, at the hands of rapacious wizards," Voldemort replied evenly.

Bane immediately grew quiet, memories of mother starting to flash through his mind as he began to think about her for the first time in years, "That was many, many years ago," he softly replied after a pause, "Humans have changed since those days."

Voldemort gave a light, mocking scoff, "Do you truly believe that? Humans are invariably and inexorably drawn to fear things they don't fully understand."

Bane pulled a strange face as he looked down at the odd wizard, "You… speak as if you are not one of their kind," he grunted with a raised eyebrow, intrigue lining his face.

A subtle upward quirk formed at the edge of Voldemort's mouth as he titled his head at the creature at his side, "Centuries ago, a curious group of Muggles coined a rather peculiar term that still resonates to this very day – Transubstantiation," he lectured, taking on the tone of a cultured emeritus, "The ineffable transcendence of an object into a new, more metaphysical form."

"This…" he continued, the smirk growing wider on his face as power burned within the depths of his smouldering, black eyes, "…I have achieved."

Bane gave a thoughtful hum as he opted not to reply to the cryptic statement. They then continued the rest of their journey in silence before they suddenly heard a murmur of distant voices, a gentle thrum that blended harmoniously with the sound of a nearby brook that babbled and bubbled softly in the dark. Coming to a halt after a few more paces, they finally reached a high leather tent that was cleverly camouflaged and almost hidden from view in the dense bushes.

Bane looked upwards to the glowing planets and scintillating stars that dotted the heavens above as they started to shift ever so slightly in the brilliant night sky, their celestial bodies morphing from nebula to white dwarf, neutron star to pulsar, red giant to supernova, their captivating image weaving together effortlessly like a half-done tapestry still in its loom.

He looked down at the wizard that accompanied him as his eyes grew lidded, an ancient magic settling on his tongue and temporarily granting him access to a hereditary power which had been passed down from his father, who in turn inherited it from his father's father, and so on.

"The stars themselves part for your coming, like a golden sea split in half," he started in a low voice, almost lulling Voldemort with his hypnotic tone as he continued, "The path of power you have chosen to walk down leads only to solitude."

"Your upcoming trials will be forged in a wreath of Fire, annealed by a flash of White, and tempered by Hallowed means. There will be no other wizard in existence that will be as tested as you will," he carried on in the same tone, magic encompassing every emphatic word.

"Heir of Slytherin, you are a wizard like no other, for there is no other."

Bane then gave breathless gasp as broke out his trance, blinking in slight confusion and catching his haggard breath as he looked down at the wizard at his side, noticing that a contemplative and meditative look was adorning the said human's face.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed as he engaged every thought process available in his brain, preparing a profusion of questions before he started to speak, "What do you mean by-"

Bane simply raised a hand to interrupt his escort, quietening him down until there was only silence again the depths of the Forbidden Forest, "Young one, I can't answer any of your questions, for what just transpired had nothing to do with you and me, but instead, something far… greater."

With that final word, Bane gave a respectful nod in farewell before turning on the spot and trotting back into the forest without another sound, leaving the wizard behind as his enormous hooves kicked up a trail of dust that hung lazily in the midnight air.

"Bane, son of Brimerth, I will remember your words well," Voldemort murmured, wiping all traces of the previous encounter from his face as he lifted the flap that covered the tent's entrance up to enter, eager to meet the council of Elders that had responded to his message to quickly.

Upon entering, it was striking obvious that the interior was magically expanded, as a massive chamber instantly greeted him. Light reached neither wall nor ceiling as his vision was confined to a single illuminated path in the wide area in front of him. Inky black shadows sloshed against the narrow strip of light as he started to walk down the only path available, faintly hearing the sporadic sounds of gnashing teeth and bestial grunts coming from the opaque darkness around him.

After a full minute of walking, he came to a halt as the source that bestowing its light onto his path turned itself off, leaving him stranded in complete darkness. As he waited patiently on the spot, his word suddenly turned to white as light flooded the entirety of the grand hall, not flinching in the slightest even though he was temporarily blinded.

He blinked twice as his pupils contracted to adjust for this new amount of light, his eyes then feasting upon a rather rare sight, even by the Centaur's standards.

"Very… theatrical, Elders," he smirked, a confident look spreading across his handsome face as his eyes skimmed over each of the nine figures that stood in a semi-circle before him, noting the ornate decorations that were draped all over their frail and elderly bodies. He instantly recognized them as the leaders of the nine tribes that dwelled within the Forbidden Forest, each clan living in relative peace between each other since Centaurs were not an intrinsically violent race.

The Centaur that stood in the middle – flanked by four of her kin on each side – was the obvious spokesperson of the congregation as she snorted with amusement from the impertinent greeting before committing to speech, "Well met, Dark Lord Voldemort," she began, her pale fur, milky eyes and white hair giving a rather striking image, "My name is Sakas, of the tribe of Mars. I am also the voice of the Council."

She the lowered her head in what seemed like approval before continuing, "Late is the hour you approach us, but swift is the message delivered," she spoke in a loud and clear voice, "Your zeal has earned you an audience."

With the conclusion of the terse introduction, she then gave the waiting wizard a nod – a cue for him to begin speaking. Voldemort's eyes lit up as he began his speech, drawing the eyes of every Centaur onto his every move as he emphatically gestured as he spoke, enrapturing them with a fiery diatribe against the current state of the Wizarding World, a tale he had regaled so many times before to other magical races – albeit slightly altered each time.

Thirty minutes quickly passed as the charismatic wizard orated with passion, uninterrupted in his grand speech as his voice skirted on the lows and flew on the highs, captivating the Centaurs on a wild ride from start to finish.

"… from womb to tomb, Centaurs will have a place in society as much as the next wizard or witch," Voldemort powerfully promised as he struck his fist onto his palm, "This, I can guarantee."

As his breathless audience looked on in anticipation for more, Voldemort disappointed them by lowering his hands and retracting some intoxicating magic he was subconsciously oozing, "That is all I have to say, the rest is up to you" he ended, falling silent and stepping back as he waited for their collective decision.

A dry cough from the snow-white Centaur, Sakas, broke the momentary stupor and galvanized her brethren into action as she barked out words in a strange language that even the learned Voldemort could not understand. They huddled around each other as they discussed the possible futures their race could come to pass if they became allies with this new Dark Lord, snarling, biting and disagreeing with each other as their conversation turned into heated debate.

Voldemort's patience was wearing thin as he stood stationary on the spot with his hands clasped in front of him. He showed none his annoyances on his cool, collected face as he began to grow tired of listening to the ancient, harsh language that grated on his ears. Just as he was about to say something, the council quietened down and trotted slowly back to their original positions, the interspaced geometries inexplicably perfect as they formed an exact semicircle around him once more.

Sakas bowed her head low as she turned towards the waiting wizard, "Dark Lord Voldemort, your cause is indeed grand. The Centaurs will… not aid in you in your cause however, no matter how noble it may be."

Shock registered on Voldemort's face too quickly to hide it from the Centaurs. He quickly wiped it off his handsome visage as confused anger welled up within him, feeling slightly betrayed since this was the first time a magical race had denied their allegiance to him after listening to his oration.

Sakas noticed a black look growing on the wizard's face and hurriedly began to explain the mechanisms that drove the council's decision, "Dark Lord, we are a strictly democratic society. With nine tribes, every decision is either for or against – we never have stalemates. The decision was even to the very last second, but fell in favour of abstaining on the final vote."

Voldemort's eyes smouldered as they pierced hers, "And who cast the last vote?" he asked softly, dangerously.

"It was I, Dark Lord Voldemort," Sakas declared loudly, raising her head high as she looked down at the powerful wizard in an all-knowing gaze.

Voldemort's volatile fury then turned to bitter and scathing anger as he started to pace up and down, his voice growing furious in intensity as he began to condemn their seemingly asinine decision.

"So, you would choose to remain slaves then? Bound under the yoke the Wizards and Witches have cast upon your spineless necks, meek and terrified from the threat of fire and brimstone?" he spat, unconsciously leaking tendrils of magic as he grew more fervid, "You would remain ostracized deep within the Forbidden Forest? You would not take back the freedom that was unjustly wrenched from your grasp, as you fester away in your squalid huts with no true place to call home?"

"Your sons and daughters will taste the whip of Man upon their bare backs," he continued, trembling in fury, "As they release a cry of despair that the world has never heard before."

His face then lost all traces of anger as he donned a weary and tired look. He stopped his pacing, his breathing slowing down as he lowly intoned to his frozen listeners in bitterness, "You… disappoint me, Centaurs."

A weapon suddenly appeared in his field of view, a razor-sharp trident wielded by a Centaur adorned with a gleaming cuirass across his upper torso and leather vambraces on his forearms, "Do not insult the Elders," the high-ranking guard growled.

A millisecond before Voldemort was about to explode with forceful violence, Sakas waved a hand hastily in the air, her loud voice easily going over and silencing the eruption of low murmurs that had spread throughout the gathered Elders.

"Stand down Pholus, the Dark Lord before us speaks nothing but the undiluted truth."

A jolt ran through Voldemort as he saw a flash of deep longing hidden within the white Centaur's eyes, "Why?" he gasped, causing Sakas to turn to him, "I know you fully understand why I have come to you, and of my ambitions and my desires. Then why?"

Sakas closed her eyes with a sigh of some unidentifiable emotion before she opened them, looking straight into the pits of Voldemort's orbs in what seemed like regret.

"Truth be told, if you had come to us two full moons earlier, we would have readily joined your cause," she revealed in a soft voice.

"Elucidate," Voldemort instantly demanded, still emphatic in his manner of speech.

Sakas remained silent for a brief second before replying, aware that eight pairs of ancient eyes were intensely watching her every move, "For me to answer that question, you shall first have to answer one of mine," she announced, her voice now careful and controlled.

She took a deep breath before continuing, her aged face displaying centuries of experience, "Vice and strife, want and war, victory and defeat, lordship and thraldom, all sealed with the seal of blood: this is the monstrous History of Man. From the very beginning of time to this very day, it continues."

She paused briefly before looking down at him, "You wish to seek peace through death and bloodshed, do you not? How can you possibly achieve what no Man before you has done?"

Voldemort did absolutely nothing after the question had been thrown at him, standing absolutely still as his billowing, black robes gently curved around his body from an airy breeze that danced through the grand hallway. He then looked back up at the waiting Centaurs, his eyes starting to glow as he began to take off his dark robes unexpectedly, talking as he slowly disrobed.

"I do not need land nor shelter," he whispered softly as uncovered arms came into the light, the outlines of past rituals etched into his blemished skin as black tattoos, "I do not need sleep nor sunlight," he continued as his tone started to get louder, his bare chest now exposed for all the world to see, the scars of ancient, forbidden runes carved deep into his flesh.

"I do not require food nor water," he cried out passionately, his robes now down to his ankles as perfectly chiselled legs revealed themselves, their muscles hardened and fortified by a layer of primordial magic.

Voldemort's senses heightened as he gave a terrifying display of magic, "I do not age," he shouted, raw power consciously radiating in every direction as his young body now stood fully unclothed in front of the ancient council, "Magical attacks have almost no effect on me. Physical assaults – even less."

"I have even defied nature," he continued in a cry as his fully exposed body, truly a living work of art, now brandished itself to his wide-eyed audience in full view, "FOR I HAVE CONQUERED DEATH ITSELF." He took a deep breath as every pore on his body started to electrify with pure, unadulterated magic, readying itself for something extraordinary.

"I AM NO MAN."

His fearsome roar was unconsciously magnified a hundredfold by his magic and almost defeated every Centaur in the proximity as it shook the Forbidden Forest to life in the dead of the night. Trees swayed dangerously on the spot, waking arboreal mammals from their slumber as a wave of crepitating magic washed over them. Nocturnal creatures – owls, voles, badgers, and even a wild Hippogriff – froze as they were, abandoning their hunts as they lifted their furry heads towards the swell of power, their instincts screaming at them to flee.

Sakas has almost a glazed look on her face as she unconsciously stretched her hand out to the tantalizing magic that was being emitted by the visibly glowing wizard. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she wet her dry lips with her tongue as raw anticipation tingled in her ancient bones, a feeling she had not experienced in many years. This was the chance she had been waiting for her entire life, this man… no – creature, could save everyone that mattered in a manner she previously thought impossible.

It took a while for the reverberating sounds to finally dampen and fade out of existence from the grand hall, leaving behind only the sound of laboured breathing and beating hearts in its wake.

"I… I promised you an explanation, Dark Lord," Sakas managed to start through the silence, her loud words causing her still-ringing eardrums to give her a mild wave of pain, "Of which I shall bequeath unto you."

The other Centaurs were deathly silent as she continued solemnly, "Our magic is already betrothed to another."

Voldemort blinked owlishly before retracting all traces of magic back into his body, opting to stand there unclothed until he got all the answers he needed, "Elucidate," he calmly replied, his voice now completely back to its normal mellifluous tone.

"A being of power came to us recently, breathing life into this forest and instilling us with visions of countless futures that paved promising pathways for our declining species."

"A being of… power," Voldemort muttered to himself, subtly narrowing his eyes in thought before turning back to the pale Centaur with a mix of feelings, "Was it Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts?" he intoned.

"Nay," Sakas instantly replied as she shook her head, "It was one far stronger. One brimming with such magic, that it would threaten the balance of this world should it ever awaken."

Now Voldemort's curiosity was burning like a wildfire inside of him, "There is one stronger than the old fool?" he murmured, widening his eyes in shock as he looked back up, "Wait… what did you mean by awaken?"

"My tongue can reveal no more, Dark Lord," Sakas responded, slight regret tinging her voice. She then leaned in close to the stark-naked wizard, her snow-white hair spilling forwards and covering her face from the action as she continued speaking.

"We can forcefully break the contract, but… it would mean a temporary loss of our prophetic powers," she said slowly, lowering her tone while her eyes darted around, as if afraid of something.

Voldemort gave a loud bark of laughter in response to the statement, causing the present members to sit up straighter from the sudden noise and narrow their eyes accusingly at him.

"I have manpower beyond reckoning. Dragons, Hags, Vampires, the lost tribes of Merpeople, and more," he yelled with fire burning within his eyes, spreading his arms wide dramatically as if to encompass the world itself.

"What they all lack however, is wisdom," he continued, whirling back to the pale Centaur, "I have no need for your prophecies or soothsayers, only for your council ancient ones, so we may destroy this diseased world, reclaiming unparalleled order and balance as we rebuild it from its ashes– just like in the days of Old."

Sakas could not believe her ears. In front of her, was the first stepping stone for something she had yearned for centuries: a promise of the restoration of her fallen people, and for all the discarded and abused races around the world that longed for a place in society.

"Yes… YES!" she bellowed as she whirled back to face her silent companions, their piercing eyes full of wariness, "What say you, brothers and sisters? Shall we reclaim the world for our sons and daughters, a world which they could only dream of in whispers? A world where the young and innocent would not be neither spat upon, nor shunned, nor cast out like lepers and beggars?"

Her words hung heavily in the air, staining the silent atmosphere until finally, one of the mighty beasts raised its head high and trotted forward, the first Elder apart from Sakas to speak.

"Of course, Lady Sakas, Maiden of Mars, Agent of War, wants to bring her species to ruination through the clashing of steel and the howling of wolves," the new Centaur spat in hostility, his jet black fur a stark juxtaposition against the milky-white coat of the creature he was addressing.

Sakas clicked her tongue in anger, "Still your tongue Pollux, Hand-servant to Saturn, Lord of Melancholy," she snapped, "You dare not raise a hoof unless a vision is repeated ten times over in the stars, for the fear of the slightest event going awry."

"I wield the mastery of balance and foresight," Pollux growled loudly, his large muscles writing like a turgid flood under his aged skin, "And I know this dark path will lead us to places where our ancestors would never dare to tread on."

A reddish-brown Centaur then interrupted the arguing duo, her gentle countenance instantly signalling that she was the leader of the tribe of Venus, where solidarity, equality and desire reigned supreme.

"Sakas, what about the Fire?" she asked softly, her euphonious tone stirring various emotions in every being present, "Would you abandon the fanning of the Flame – that you yourself, were the first to kindle?"

"Damn the Fire" Sakas snarled, hardening her heart and dispelling the effects that threatened to sway her, "We will follow the Fates no longer. The auspices of late have not once provided us with freedom nor security. Ask yourself this, why do we owe them so?"

Ignoring the two challengers, she turned to the rest of the group as she uttered her final say, "My friends," she started distinctly, "Instead of prophesizing countless versions of the future, as we have for decades, hoping for a miracle, we have been now been gifted the opportunity to change it with our very own hands."

"Now, who will stand with me?" she bellowed, democracy all but left behind in the dust.

A unanimous chorus of cries filled the air, glorious in its majesty as almost all the ancient Centaurs had all been swayed by charismatic duo that had presented to them for the past hour, the captivating wizard and the fearsome Lady of War.

Not everyone joined in the victory cry however, as two figures began to slowly walk away from the congregation, their heads down in defeat as the leaders of the tribe of Saturn and Venus despondently made for the exit, sure in their hearts that their brethren were making a grave mistake.

Sakas knew that this was the expected response and let them pass without another look at them, as if damning them to their own fate. She then turned around and was about to speak but froze mid-sentence, as another Centaur steadily turned on the spot and walked away from the group towards the exit as well.

She recognized who it was.

"Lord Argo, of the tribe Neptune, Wayfarer of Dreams," she called out in an unnaturally loud voice, the feeling of a knife stabbing and twisting in her heart as she watched a close friend halt from the sound of her voice, "You would shy from this one chance to watch with your waking eyes as reality kneels before you?"

The said Centaur turned his head around ever so slightly and gave a distracted smile, as if his mind was in another plane of existence, "We all have a part to play in the grand scheme of life, Sakas," Argo replied in a far-away and dreamy voice, "Some… more than others."

Sakas clenched her teeth as the knife in her heart twisted further, "We… we made a promise many decades ago," she said slowly, her voice struggling to say even, "One which we swore with our dying breath shall come to pass before time takes us… have you forgotten it?"

Argo gave a large sigh as he turned away from her, talking as he trotted away from her "The promise holds," he called over his shoulder, "However, saving our people is neither up to you or me, but someone far greater."

He paused temporarily at the exit, not looking back as he said a final goodbye to someone who was once an ally and close friend, uttering a phrase in Centaur culture reversed for only the heartfelt of farewells, "May the stars bless the road you walk upon, Lady Sakas… proud leader of the Centaurs."

Scandalous gasps emerged from the guards while the Elders rumbled discontentedly from the utterance, as it was strictly taboo to mention who was really in charge of the ostracized society, the minute shifts in power and the intense debates to authorize or veto policies by the respective leaders of each of the nine tribes playing a large part in every Centaur's life.

Sakas closed her eyes as she let the uneasy murmurs and whispers circulate around the room, hanging her head low and absorbed in thought as she struggled internally to plug up a hole in her heart. However, she was not the leader of the tribe of Mars without a reason.

Looking back up with the fire reignited in her eyes, she turned towards a waiting wizard, one which was fully clothed once again and exuded only curiosity to the scene as the secretive lifestyle of Centaurs was known to not many.

"You are six tribes strong, Dark Lord," she started strongly and confidently, her previous emotions all but extinguished from her face, "Each one filled with gifted young, tempered old, and valiant warriors that lie in-between."

Voldemort gave a pleased hum as he patted his robes down one final time, meticulously smoothing out creases and crinkles before turning towards the ancient beast, "Very well, Elders," he almost purred, unbridled excitement starting to light up on his handsome face as a thousand and one questions burned in his mind, "But first, before we begin, tell me, what is this… Fire you constantly speak of."

Sakas gave a smirk as she felt her magic leave her and her tongue loosen, not the slightest hint regret flowing through her veins at the loss as she put one hand on Voldemort's shoulder, gently ushering him deeper into their enclave, "I pray you are free till the morrow Dark Lord, for there is much to discuss."


Some time later

A sharp, broken sob pierced the air as a young girl lay hunched in a semi-dark corner of a deserted bathroom, her muscles contracting as if expelling her guts was the only thing she had ever known, her innards heaving to bring up only dribbles of black and red bile as they sullied the spotless floor she stood upon.

Unfair.

That was the only word that spiralled through her mind.

No matter how hard this young girl tried, no matter how hard she strived to be the person that her conscience wanted her to be, she was only ever punished for her ardency. A mass of guilt and failure sat atop her bosom while a fire burned down her throat and mind, fresh memories of slaughtered young men and women searing through her skin and into her body, snatching away every feeling of safety she ever had.

A wave of icy cold self-damnation sent shivers down her spine as her mind regurgitated image after image to her against her will, a macabre collage of sinew, flesh and bone that refused to pass from sight from her waking eyes.

Feeling as if she couldn't escape from the tormenting memories, she retched again, causing caustic fluids to pool on the white marble from her lips, its consistency now viscous and opaque. She then looked down after wiping her mouth with a trembling hand as she gazed expressionlessly at the floor, slightly envying the hard, white rock beneath her feet – for they were hard and lifeless, and unable to feel the afflictions of life.

Two weeks had passed since Ariana's mind had repaired itself. Only then, was she able to break her out of a self-induced coma, one that sought to stabilize and repair the abused recesses of her mind and violated magical core, the damage of the aftereffects from a possession not taken lightly by her body.

Unfair.

The word echoed in her head once more as she punched a hard wall forcefully with a closed fist in anger, her silver bracelet on her left wrist that was designed to keep her and everyone else safe adding to the bitter concoction as it burned with the vengeance of a thousand suns upon her pale skin.

The immense influx of pain caused Ariana to bite her lip to hold back a loud cry, clamping down hard with her teeth until her skin on her lips broke and blood started to flow. In a morbid way, she relished the newfound pain, as if it was the only way to atone for her sins.

It seemed like the harder she pushed, the harder the world pushed back.

A knock and muffled voice suddenly came through the door of the bathroom, nervous worry hidden and laced within a concerned tone, "Ariana, is everything okay?"

The young witch snapped her head up at the sound of a voice, her long, midnight black hair whipping up to hit her face from the action, its strands frayed and matted as it stuck to her damp skin in an unruly mess – a product from her paroxysm of self-condemnation.

Ariana stood up from her hunched position and straightened her hospital gown the best she could, rubbing her eyes and clearing her raw throat before replying, "Nothing's wrong," she called back steadily in a falsely bright tone, "I'll be just a minute."

There was a short pause on the other side of the door as it deliberated the response, "Okay," the voice simply replied, the slight hesitation relaying more information than it should have.

Ariana then gingerly made her way over the besmirched floor and stood herself before a misty mirror, wiping away coalesced vapours that called its shiny surface home akin to the sweeping hand of the morning sun as it evaporated the dew that nestled on the early blooms.

A miserable sight greeted her. Large, green, bloodshot eyes that were surrounded by skin so pale it seemed it would catch fire under the slightest ray of sunlight were framed by an unkempt tousled mass of onyx hair. The eyes looked tired and defeated, like an old solider falling in battle and wearily arriving at the gates of Elysium, only to realize that the peace that he had been fighting for his entire life was nothing but a lie, even in the world beyond.

Just then, a flicker of fire suddenly lit itself under the brazier of her heart. A tiny spark, nothing that the young witch felt initially, but a nascent one nonetheless. Large mood swings were not uncommon for her, much to her confused exasperation of course, as she felt the slow stirring beginnings of something within her chest. The young girl was much stronger than she herself knew, as time and time again she rose high above the persistent trials and tribulations that life had sent to strike her down.

"No," she whispered suddenly as she gazed back into her trembling face, the intangible fire now taking hold and suffusing through her body in an unstoppable tide. "No," she repeated in a louder voice, strength slowly starting to infuse back into her being.

"The person who did this… was not me."

As soon as those decisive words were released from her mouth, the weight of the heavens she shouldered upon her back – the guilt, the sorrow, the self-damnation – suddenly vanished into nothingness, as if they were replaced with a pillar of feathers. The young witch then did a single figurative action which would forever change the course of her life from there on.

Ariana shrugged.

The weight of the world crashed down from her bloodied and bruised back as a long-lost flame that had threatened to completely vanish in the course of her deterioration started to kindle once more, cauterizing the wounds on her mangled shoulders as it blazed with an unyielding intensity and swallowed her soul whole.

Her heart filled with something absolutely glorious as she felt a nostalgic surge of magic crying for release from within, gasping loudly as she held up her hand in the air – wandless – and let forth a cry that she could never successfully accomplish the past few months after entering this strange new world.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A burst of brilliant light erupted from her outstretched palm, breathing forth a ghostly figure to life that sprung from her hand and pranced around the room, the blindingly bright animal letting out joyous cries as it celebrated its freedom. Noticing that the outline of her familiar stag was somewhat smaller than usual, she squinted her eyes as she tried to discern what she had just conjured, also slightly confused as to why her Patronus shimmered with such intensity.

Still unable to identify any features through shielded eyes and contracted pupils, she outstretched a hand gently with the intent to beckon the creature over before it vanished from whence it came. That seemed to work, as the soft sound of approaching hooves filled her with delight and made her curiously wonder if her stag had somehow shrunk in size.

Ariana felt something small soft nuzzle the back of her small hand with a rather odd feeling, as if warm water was being tenderly poured over the surface of her skin. Daring to peek with her eyes fully open, her wide eyes caught a flash of the animal that was looking at her before she was temporarily blinded.

Her eyes immediately shut themselves tight from the sudden glare, but not before recognizing what animal what standing before her. The floodgates of her heart wrenched themselves open as she let a loud laugh, a freeing laugh, a bittersweet laugh… a cathartic laugh.

It was a small fawn.

"Sorry little one, no Dementors here," she murmured softly after peeking once again, noticing that the small animal was looking around in slight confusion, "I'll call for you again, when you are needed."

With a nod that seemed to understand her very words, the sentient young deer gave her outstretched hand one last ghostly lick before nimbly leaping into the air and vanishing, its phantasmal body evanescing into the morning sunbeams of white light that penetrated the bathroom.

Ariana gave a thoughtful hum as the room was eventually restored it to its normal brightness, feeling her magic settle down into quiescence, "Huh… I'm guess the stag still belongs to Dad then, since he's still alive," she theorized in a mutter, slightly intrigued by the new form her Patronus took.

Her mind then cut off that train of thought as her thoughts shifted, turning down a path of absolute resolution, one with no path back, "I will never use Dark Magic… ever again," she vowed fiercely to herself in an undying promise that she meant with all her heart and soul.

She suddenly felt something incredibly powerful shift within her after saying those words, as the white, unstable magic she always possessed – which had always been inexplicably locked away for some reason – now seemed readily accessible to her touch. Breath quickening in excitement, she was just about to call some of this mysterious power forth but a knock on the door caused her to forcefully retract back into her magical core in slight panic.

"Ariana, it's been five minutes."

The said young witch gave a small sound of surprise as she realized that someone was waiting for her. Still dazed from the previous event, she carelessly waved her hand to cast a quick healing charm on her lip and on her wrist and a cleaning spell towards the mess she created – all without consciously knowing she wasn't using a wand.

After deciding that she looked presentable enough in the mirror, she padded over to the bathroom door and opened it, only to be met by someone whom she loved unconditionally.

For some strange reason, the red-headed teenager that greeted her was the only one that was visiting her in the Hospital Wing on this fine Saturday morning. Shrugging nonchalantly, presuming that her other friends were preoccupied with schoolwork or other activities, she readily marched off beside the older witch.

Just as Ariana was about to get back into hospital bed, her young mother gently steered her away from it and plopped her down on a wooden chair instead, standing behind her and carrying something in her hands which always filled Ariana with dread when it was used upon her.

"What happened to your hair, young lady," Lily mock-admonished, wielding a hair-brush expertly in her hands as she patiently got out the stubborn mats and curls, ignoring the squeaks of pain that her young friend was emitting in the process.

Ten minutes of grooming passed quickly in the empty Hospital Wing, one where Ariana was still silent as she was still contemplating all that had transpired in the bathroom. Feeling the brushing finally come to a stop atop her head, she whirled around with some burning questions in her mind that needed some answering.

"Hey Lily, where is everyo–"

She never got to finish her sentence as her vision suddenly turned to black and her supply of air was cut off. Panicking momentarily, she soon stopped struggling as she realized she was being pressed hard into Lily's chest with a protective embrace that fully encompassed her small body.

"I heard from Professor Dumbledore about what happened," Lily murmured, her voice turning sorrowful. "A cursed object that sends its victim into an unwakeable slumber. I'm glad they found the vile thing and destroyed it," she continued with a breath of relief, "I dread to think what would happen otherwise."

Ariana perked her ears up, noting that the story was slightly augmented for the benefit of the students that were a part of it, saying nothing in response as all she did was snuggle in deeper into the warmth. There were times where she was glad she was reborn as a girl so she could be this physically intimate with her mother, a special feeling that she had never experienced, a special feeling she never knew she needed.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," Lily breathed softly and tenderly into her ear.

With that utterance, all the last vestigial traces of self-deprecation finally melted away from Ariana's heart and were immediately replaced with a harmonious medley of peace, faith, and hope, unconsciously letting out a sound that Ron would never stop hounding her if he ever found out she emitted it – a contented mewl.

Lily let out a chuckle of amusement when she heard the adorable sound, "Goodness gracious, you're like a kitten," she grinned, loosening the hug and taking the opportunity to pinch the young witch's cheeks in fondness.

Ariana giggled from the interaction and basked in the affection that she was being shown. In the recent weeks, she had tried her hardest to form a proper connection with her mother without the use of chicanery. Lily had often noticed her rather untidy state – a leftover trademark from her former male self – and took it into her own interests to teach her how to take care of her appearance daily. As the days and weeks passed, their relationship had only gotten stronger with time.

As they bantered and chatted away, Ariana looked happily up at the red-haired witch was that currently telling a rather lengthy joke, the light bouncing of her shimmering red hair and aesthetically pleasing features. Realizing something that should be been obvious a long time ago, she blurted out something that summersaulted its way to the top of her mind.

"You're like… really pretty," she loudly broke in as she interrupted the other girl, wondering why in Merlin's name did she not notice this earlier. Perhaps her view of the said young adult was distorted, purely because she looked at her differently since she was her mother in the not too distant future.

Lily paused in her speech and blinked twice as she digested the seemingly random comment, "Err… thanks?" she replied unsurely. After realizing that the young witch was still staring intensely at her, she properly processed what was just said and gave a lopsided grin as she leaned in close.

"Actually," she whispered conspiratorially, her green eyes alight with playfulness, "You're the prettiest girl in your year, by far."

Ariana widened her eyes in genuine confusion as her eyebrows rose to the top of her head from the comment. When she first arrived after travelling through time, she was so focused on garnering the information and skills required to defeat Voldemort that she had never once looked at herself in that way. She knew she wasn't plain looking by any standards, but she did not expect this to be said about her.

As if a filter had been removed from her eyes, she suddenly felt very conscious of her body. Blushing against her will from the close proximity of the other girl, she let out an awkward cough as turned her red face turned towards the ground, her hands fidgeting restlessly with each other as she thought of ways to respond to her first real compliment.

"Y-You think so?"

Lily drew back from the innocent eyes that gazed up at her and let out a completely unfeigned laugh from the childlike tone, "Bless my soul," she chuckled mirthfully, putting one hand on her heart, "You're just too precious for words."

That only made Ariana more bewildered as furrowed her brow and she scratched her head, tilting it quizzically as she struggled to figure out what was going on. She was a precocious child, a natural genius in many things, but this was one area she was woefully clueless in.

A faint noise outside the Hospital Wing's doors suddenly caught Ariana's attention, amplifying her perplexity as she looked around the deserted room once more, wondering even where Madam Pomfrey was.

Lily caught sight of her bothered countenance and bit her lip what seemed like poorly disguised guilt, "Err… Ariana?" she started, looking a little nervous, "Professor Dumbledore actually told me to cheer you up without the others interfering first," she confessed in a rushed tone, "The others are outside, waiting for us to finish. Sorry for leaving that part out."

Ariana's heart relaxed from the harmless admission, her face growing tranquil as her growing fears were now laid to rest. "It's okay, I quite enjoy your company," she said shyly, eager to jump at any opportunity to know her mother more, the signs of fighting an internal battle flashing across her face before continuing in a slow voice.

"Can… we do this again?"

Lily raised an eyebrow, "What? You mean, just talk?"

A fervent nod softened the edges of her heart as a natural instinct to nurture the desperate looking child blossomed and grew within her, "Sure, any time," she answered sincerely, not knowing just how much her approval to a seemingly innocuous request meant to the other young witch.

As if somehow their conversation was perfectly timed, the doors to the Hospital Wing burst open as they concluded their conversation, letting in a stream of students that ran and instantly surrounded them, all talking over each other at the same time.

No, I was wrong all along. Ariana thought as she accepted a shower of gifts – mainly cream puffs from Honeydukes – laughing alongside innocent students that knew nothing but the blissful joys of life, spotting Madam Pomfrey's and Albus' face grinning at her from the open doorway amidst her laughter.

For all the hardship and misfortune that I have endured, I can only say one thing…

She gave a slow exhale as looked over every person in the room just one more, feeling her spirits soar upwards towards an unending horizon, shimmering and golden in all its majesty.

It's worth it.