In a place not considered to be even here or there, but somewhere in between, there stood an individual peering deeply into, what could only be described as an abyss of darkness. Like a crack of reality, meeting surreality, simply a window into seeming uncomprehending-ness.

But it was in this vastness of endless dark, that the individual found what he was looking for.
A story, the story of a young girl being led into a life of hardship, pain and despair.
Being prepared to die a martyr.

He couldn't, in good conscience, allow that poor human girl, to fight against all odds all on her own.
And in despite of himself, the story unfolding in the veil of fate, the darkness-dwelling abyss, something like pity arose in him.

With given ability due to his own circumstance, the individual knew, the future was a fickle thing and just a small nudge would suffice to steer the wheels of fate elsewhere. So, grinning for the first time in a century, Chaos plunged his hand into the void. "I rid you of that pestering core of magic, dear child.
You shall arise as a tree, a new leaf turns for you soon. May the Mother of all mischief and serene eternity cover your skin and humour your voice as one of hers."

xXx

The quiet neighbourhood of Little Whinging, Surrey, surrounded by an uncomfortable stillness made even the loudest crickets and other nocturnals vanish back into their hideouts and safety of nesting homes.

And if any man or woman took notice of the unnatural quietness of, well actually everything in that night, they would say it a weird night and do utmost everything in coming days to never speak a word of it again. Erasing any concern or suspicions of anything that would disrupt the normalcy of human brain capacity.

Although a keen mind would have taken the notice further than most, in observing that the eerie cloud covering the sky and tinting it a dubious grey, would mix well the colours of the red moon hanging slightly closer than acceptable for human tendencies, above one house in particular.

Little Whinging, Surrey. Privet Drive number four, sat closely knit together with carbon copies of houses row to row. In pristine condition lay bushes and flowers, visible easily from the pavement, a display of decadence and opulence.

At least from the outside, Number four was the show of excellent garden work and pristine familial love. If only people could look behind the scenes, would they still marvel at the display? Or perhaps falter at the thought of working a niece to near death, with keeping things as they are.

More likely though would they be placated, with falseness and empty lies. The girl deserves this as punishment, she would loiter around, she's a scoundrel an eyesore and really a troublemaker. Platitudes to cover up grave mistreatment and blatant abuse. But people would take the lies, as such is mankind. The easier it is on the mind, the more likely it is, to be believed. Mind over matter, if you don't mind, it doesn't matter.

And as simple as that, the small girl living in number four not only keeps the slaving work of managing a household to perfection, but also the ill will of the neighbourhood. A truly unfair life.

And yet the red moon looms above the house, contemplative staring, unblinking at a certain spot inside.
The form of the small girl, shivers and stirs in unrest inside her cruel confinement, the cupboard under the stairs. The tiny mattress stained with dirt, blood and other fluids, long since lost its comfort but gave merciful reprieve from the otherwise hard and splintered wooden floor.

The girl, Harriet Potter, was lost in a dream. The dream, a field of roses and Lilies. She stood in midst of flowers, unrestricted and free. But somehow looking at the beautiful plants hurt in ways the Dursleys, her relatives, could never inflict.

The promise of love, care, protection and last but not least family, stood like an unmoveable wall between her thoughts and any movement she would consider. Would she be able to reach out? Just one arm-length away, still the girl knew better than to proceed. Her hope had been crushed for years. And a dream is just that, a dream.

Tears flitted down her face freely and her mind in the endless struggle of life and surrender created walls. The last effort of keeping sanity where it belongs, unhinged was too much already and safety could be seen but not afforded.

And thus in these moments, of careful yet slow creation of something unthinkable, a madness crept upon the girl threatening her very existence. Her age, going unconsidered by thralls of red hot madness, just reached that of nine years.

Harriet stilled in her own anguish. Drove herself up within seconds and without warning, her eyes an emerald green go unblinking towards the ceiling.
And there she stared, in midst of darkness and stale air, a hand shot at her Head.

No time to react, no time to think. But Harriet was too far gone already to feel fear.
She did not feel her head being grabbed nor anything else of her body for that.

Instead, she heard a voice, as clear as a voice could ring, she absorbed the words deep within her mind and soul.

"I rid you of that pestering core of magic, dear child.
You shall arise as a tree, a new leaf turns for you soon. May the Mother of all mischief and serene eternity cover your skin and humour your voice as one of hers."

These words gave her no sense of understanding not one ounce of comprehension. But something within her knew, these were her words now. Only meant for her being.

She could not understand where they came from, whom they were spoken by or what they meant.

All that, was not important for Harriet, because they were hers now. And would always be, that much she knew.

And with that much, she fell backwards into a deep sleep as the magic, wild and oddly comforting spread from the appendage still clinging to her head.

A whirlwind of reddish wind seemingly tore through the girl's body, encasing her. A torrent of windless aura vividly compressing and enlarging, obviously at a whim of its own.

As wild and untamed as it looked, the magic was so very careful in treating Harriet's body with comfort and caressing love, it unhooked all taints tarnishing the girl's mind and own magic.

A black mass gave a soul-shattering scream as it came untangled and found itself ripped out of the forehead it felt so comfortable in.

A far cry from the silence that permeated the house, yet no one awoke, that is the mystery of magic.

Satisfied with ridding the black mass from the innocent girl, the reddish glow around her intensifies. Balling around the black mass, gaining in whirling speed and suddenly tightening around it, then shattering it forever.

The Horcrux never stood a chance.

A thrumming wave of energy receded around Harriet until a small tendril of red magic plunged with all the sudden movement of lighting back into her fragile and tiny body. The girl felt nothing, laying unconscious and still. The serene beauty of Death, is not a mere lingering thought, but a near possibility.

Yet the tendril gains in length and width, inserted inside her, it coils and springs around searching and Harriet lives. Her will steeled by years of abuse and thoughts near surrender, she still feels the urge to live. And so she does, she prevails.

And the magic, glad for it, encourages the small girl to cling on, to sleep and bypass the ordeal.

The coiling snake of red would continue its play for a few timeless breaths until it coils one last time and emerges in a victorious squirm. Not alone though is the red snake pulling out, it carries an orb of glowing green and blue with it.

The core of a witch, the magic core defining the being, making her a witch or wizard.

An unnatural occurrence, the removal of one's own magic most often accompanied by Death. But the girl is asleep and helped. The red magic smoothed the coils of glowing magic of her own core, caressing them as to tell them it would be alright soon.

And the core, it listens. It calms and resigned itself to being removed.
The glowing orb of magic is being swallowed and with it, the red snake disappears.
Leaving only a mark, nigh a tattoo or even a symbol. That of a reddish circle and for careful an observer, that of a snake. A snake is known for its famous names, world snake and destroyer of worlds.

And thus ended the night of all silence and Chaos pulled his hand back.
Leaving Harriet to sleep, although without her magic now.

xXx

"You shouldn't have cared, Brother" the voice rang sharply across the space

"Is that so?" The individual, a tall man with curly blonde hair answers the sharp voice.

Pulling his eyes from the void, he stares at the newcomer. The small form of a white-clad and stern-looking woman walks quietly over to him and peers at the void he just gazed in.

"Yes, isn't she but a mere mortal? You should know better than to interfere, lest you disrupt her fate anymore." the white-clad woman nonchalantly advises, still peering into the void.

With a chuckle the tall man grins, his curly and long hair forming a shadow over his eyes, "And wouldn't that be fun, I can't imagine mothers face."

"Don't bother, Brother. You know it wouldn't fare well for you. I remember the last time you disrupted mothers' carefully put-together plans. You were locked up in your room for a millennium straight." A single raised eyebrow was the only indication that the woman next to him even considered his statement a real threat.

But the thuggish grin on the tall man did not disappear, instead, it becomes more pronounced as he whispers, "But Order, my dear Sister, that was only because you found and defeated me. That one time shouldn't count. It was my own fault for messing with not only mothers things but yours as well.
Perhaps this time I will not be noticed by mother."

Order, as is the woman's name and profession, smiles slightly smug. "Oh brother, you always step on others' toes. And though I would have to agree that mother probably wouldn't notice you doing your mischief, it suffices to say that would hold true only for every other human, but that." Order intrudes into her brother's personal space and cheekily whispers into his ear "This one is mother's favourite, or so I heard. She has plans for that one, big ones"

"Perhaps that's what's making this human in particular so irresistible for me. Her life seems so predestined, I simply can't hold back. My Chaos will give her a fine substitute for a weapon, to maybe be able to pull her own destiny," Her brother ponders, turning his head and staring into her eyes and continuing "After all, I can't help but feel we are alike. Her life, as mine. Unwanted by most and considered unsightly by those who consider us." a fleeting moment shows all mirth gone from her Brother.

She considered his words carefully and couldn't deny some truth at least.
Yes her Brother was the Individual of Chaos, the true embodiment of Anarchy, the deity of Probability and all that can go wrong.
She can easily admit it, their mother or mothers really didn't like Chaos all that much. The sisters of fate were inclined to their plans after all. And Chaos had a tendency to run astray, so to say.

But She, Order, never thought all that much about how her Brother would feel. As was for her, the favourite child of Fate, life was a seemingly endless joy. She would partake in many plans of prophecy and be well informed of ongoings. Wherein her brother, would either be locked up inside the In-between or chained to some arduous task Mother could think of, that would not be cancelled by the principle of her brother's powers.

And with these thoughts Order for the first time in her existence, truly looked into the eyes of her Brother. And what she saw, made her nearly cry.

The longing she saw in these crimson eyes gave her shivers and with undulated marvel, she could also see an inexplicable child-like curiosity within. Perhaps it made sense, Chaos was rarely and only a few times unleashed and truly able to do his own bidding. So despite being in existence for an eternity, he hadn't seen much of the world yet.

It was then and there that she decided to truly be the older sister her Brother deserved.

In a surprising gesture, she hugged her brother tightly and lightly kissed his cheek.
"Then, perhaps try to be a bit more subtle in changing her life for the better."

A mischievous wink accompanied the rash retreat of her form. And Chaos saw his sister disappear.
He laughed. Truly laughed for the first time in his life, as tears of longing ran across his face freely.
"Let's see this unfold then."

xXx