Desiree pulled her black dragon's skin glove higher on her wrist to hide
the souvenir from her attack. She didn't want anyone to see the figure
imprinted on her skin. William had already found her and asked her what
happened in the alley earlier, but she had just said that she saw a spider.
He looked skeptical to say the least.
No matter. Suddenly, Des didn't think that she would last at Hogwarts very long. Her attacker could have taken her, but had let her go. Why?
All she could think was that he was waiting. Possibly seeing what she would do in response to the assault in Hogsmeade. Or, more disturbing, he was waiting to see what Dumbledore would do.
Des glanced around her dormitory. Everyone else was down at dinner, but she didn't seem to have a stomach tonight. Sitting down on her bed, her left hand subconsciously rubbed her right wrist. Her arm still hurt, but the pain was fading. Hopefully soon it would only become a dull throb, and then disappear into nothing.
A tear fell down her cheek at the memory of her day at Hogsmeade. It had been one horrible experience after another; however, she did deserve every bit of it.
Without realizing it, Desiree wondered if she would always be punished for what had happened before she was even born. Today was not the first time she wondered if Dumbledore did the right thing by saving her when she was an infant. Times such as these made her wish that she had been killed with her mother.
Harry would understand what she was going through. He had become an orphan when he was a baby, just as she had. And both their parents had been killed. Des really wanted to talk to him, but he didn't trust her, not that she could blame him.
The Fosters didn't understand, not really. They had tried, but inevitably failed. Now, Des would have to tell her surrogate parents about her new mark. What would they say? How should she tell them? How would she tell her fellow students? Would it give away her identity?
Maybe that was what her attacker wanted, to ruin her secret. If so, his plan just might work.
Desiree decided to go down to dinner, so as not to call too much attention by her absence. Once she sat down at the Gryfindor table, she began to eat, still wearing her gloves. That certainly didn't go unnoticed.
Hermione was sitting beside Des, and from her angle, could see a green area just above Des's gloves. Desiree instantly pulled her glove up higher and continued to eat.
"I heard that you had quite a day at Hogsmeade," Hermione commented, trying to get a better look at Desiree's wrist.
Des cleared her throat before answering, "Not really, I just saw a spider and panicked. I'm afraid I might have scared William in the process."
"Why are you wearing your gloves? Are you cold?" Harry asked. He had been keeping his head down, but raised his eyes to observe her reaction.
Pulling her gloves even higher, "I am a bit chilly." Her shaking hands were adding to the effect, despite the fact that they were shaking because she was nervous and terrified.
"You're sweating," Hermione stated.
Desiree turned her eyes to the girl beside her; then to the boy sitting across from her, who had both been interrogating her. "Harry, may I speak to you alone?"
"Of course," Harry didn't waste a moment. He was instantly up and walking towards the door, assuming that Des was following.
"All right, what's going on?" he asked once they were inside the Gryfindor common room.
"I need you to stop asking questions about me," Desiree answered, "Stop investigating me."
"Why should I? I know that you're hiding something, and it's big."
Weighing the consequences in her mind, Des took a moment to think about how to explain her situation while still keeping her identity a secret.
"You want to know what I'm hiding? My mother died trying to save me, just like yours did with you."
Harry didn't expect that one. It took him a few seconds to recover, "What about your father?"
"That is more difficult to explain, and this is not the time to do it."
He raised an eyebrow, "That's not everything. You're still hiding something, I can feel it."
"I'm sorry, but Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know the whole truth. Now, I know that you are the one leading the inquisition, and I need you to stop."
"Dumbledore told you to keep whatever-it-is a secret?"
"Yes."
Sighing, "I suppose Professor Dumbledore has his reasons. But answer this, what happened in Hogsmeade, what happened to your hand?"
Desiree reached over and began to pull off her right glove, one finger at a time. With the black leather removed, she rolled up the sleeve of her robe to give Harry a better look, "I was attacked."
His breath caught as he examined the dark green snake that circled her wrist. It had red eyes, like rubies, and the mouth was open wide, swallowing its own tail. Knowing for certain that it had not been there before, Harry asked, "Did that happen to you during the attack?"
"Yes, my attacker gave me a souvenir to remember him by. Now are you satisfied?"
"No, but I'll ask Ron and Hermione to leave you alone."
"Thank you," she whispered as she immediately replaced the glove on her hand, "Please don't tell anyone about the snake."
"I won't tell anyone but Ron and Hermione, I promise. Does Dumbledore know about it?"
"Yes," inhaling, "He said that there was nothing he could do. That I would have to live with it for the rest of my life."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." It wasn't a total lie, the snake wasn't his fault, but other things were.
"I'm going back downstairs to see Ron and Hermione. Are you coming?"
"No, I think that I'll retire. I'm rather exhausted, it's been a long day."
"All right then, good night," Harry said from the entrance just before he left the common room.
Desiree stood there alone for a few moments before going back to her room. Plopping down on the bed, she buried her head in the pillow. Reaching her hands out, she plunged the bed into a welcome darkness. Her hand was gratefully numb, but her left hand still rubbed it. She imagined that her fingers were tracing the outline of the snake as they had so many times that day.
Sighing, Des drifted off to sleep. Peace finally came to her a few minutes later, only to be disrupted by nightmares.
Des was still surrounded by shadows, but it wasn't the enclosed darkness of her bed. It was more expansive and unknown. She could hear footsteps in the distance. Familiar footsteps. A sound that had haunted her since she was an infant.
"Who's there?" she called out, as she did every other time she had a dream such as this. And as usual, no one answered.
Electing to explore, she moved through the shadows towards the footsteps. Suddenly they were behind her. Spinning around, she caught a glimpse of a tall man.
Desiree shouted, "Who are you?"
A deeper, masculine voice responded, "Who are you?"
"Desiree Foster."
"No you aren't. There are no secrets here."
The stranger's last words were whispered into her ear, making her flesh erupt in goosebumps. She turned again, "Who are you?"
"I know all your secrets, and see all you try to hide. I am your worst fear."
The hairs on her neck stood up as his breath flitted across her face. Closing her eyes, she forced tears to flee, while trying to keep her body from fleeing. Barely standing her ground, she demanded, "Leave me alone!"
An ice-cold hand touched her shoulder, making her shrink away while crying out. The darkness moved in closer to encase her entirely.
Another whispered word tossed her out of her nightmare with a gasp. Heaving, Desiree threw open the curtains around her bed to find all the other Gryfindors asleep. Obviously, it was far into the night.
Des climbed out of bed and moved over to the window. She gladly sat down in the rays of the moon. Leaning her head against the wall, she whispered the last word that the stranger had said in her nightmare. "Riddles." she glanced down to her right wrist.
Something wasn't right. The snake, which had become very familiar during the course of the day, had changed somehow. It was still devouring its own tail, but, strange as it seemed, appeared to be turning towards her elbow.
Ridiculous. Probably the aftereffects of her nightmare, nothing more. The tattoo-like mark couldn't really be moving. Impossible. And yet, it had moved. Hadn't it?
"Desiree, wake up," Hermione kept shaking Des' sleeping form. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been on their way to breakfast when they found Des asleep in one of the chairs beside the fireplace in the common room.
"Hmm." Des slowly opened her eyes, "What time is it?"
"It's time for breakfast. Go on upstairs and change clothes," Harry gently ordered. It appeared that her confession had helped things among them, slightly. They didn't seem nearly as distrustful of her, and she gladly welcomed it.
Sluggishly, Desiree got up and made her way up the stairs to her dormitory. A few minutes later, she reemerged in a clean set of robes, ready to go down to breakfast.
Hermione attempted to draw Des into a conversation, but was dismally unsuccessful. The latter was too involved in her own thoughts to pay attention to anything else. Des' three companions would occasionally see her look down at her wrist. All three of them knew about the snake around her wrist, but they hadn't told anyone else. It didn't seem anyone else would find out, since Desiree was very good at hiding it beneath her dragon skin gloves.
Every once in a while, she would have to tell others that she was cold, but it wasn't that often. Apparently, the rest of the Gryfindors weren't as observant, either that or they didn't care as much as Harry and his two best friends.
Across the dining hall, William did take note that he hadn't seen Desiree without her gloves since she had run from him in the Hogsmeade alley. She had given him a pathetic excuse for her behavior, and he hadn't believed it for a second. Something had happened to her, and he was determined to find out what. It was Sunday, and that meant that he could spend the entire day trying to pry that secret out of her.
"Bless you," William laughed at Des' sneeze. He had convinced her to go down to the lake with him. They were sitting down beneath the tree talking, and for once Des seemed open to his questions.
"Tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Foster," he prompted.
Giggling, "They are absolutely wonderful. They've always been so kind and loving to me. I remember when they first took me in."
William interrupted, "You mean, the Fosters aren't you parents?"
Des seemed completely surprised that she had told him the truth, however she quickly regained her composure, "I'm an orphan. I never knew my parents; they were killed when I was a baby. The Fosters unofficially adopted me and they've raised me ever since."
"Why didn't you tell me that when I asked you about your parents before?"
"I don't like talking about it. Besides, what does it matter?"
"They were your family, it's who you are; it's your history. Without a history, you're no one. Do you know your real parents' names?"
"I know their names."
"Well.what are they?" William prodded.
"It's not that simple. I can't tell you; and I hope that you can accept that and let it be."
"Of course, if it upsets you."
Interrupting, "No, it's not that. It's just more complicated than it seems."
"I'm beginning to learn that everything concerning you is complicated," William smiled.
They spent the rest of the day together, finally leaving each other's company for dinner. Desiree was suddenly much more full of life, and all the Gryfindors were glad for it. It felt so unnatural for Des to sit quietly, not talking to anyone.
Once again, Sir Nicholas didn't make an appearance at dinner, but Des wasn't upset by it. Telling William at least part of the truth had put her in such a good mood that she didn't think anything could trouble her.
She was wrong.
Late in the night, Desiree was wakened by an owl scratching at her shoulder. Keeping herself from screaming at the alarming sight was a miracle, and she still didn't know how she had done it.
The owl held out its leg so that Des could remove the rolled parchment, then it flew over to one of the other girl's bed stand that held a glass of water. The owl greedily lapped up the liquid, but Desiree didn't notice. She was too busy reading the letter.
Noticing that it was from the Fosters, she commented, "That was fast. I only sent them my letter yesterday morning."
She instantly began to read the letter:
Desiree,
You should know that we could never be disappointed in you, and there is no way that you could disgrace us. We will always be proud of you.
I hope your trip to Hogsmeade wasn't as terrible as you feared. I don't think that many people would recognize you, at least they shouldn't. However, one can never be sure.
Keep trying to follow your instructions. I know it will be difficult for you, and it may feel like betrayal, but it must be done. Have courage. Just remember whom you are doing all this for.
Hopefully it will be over soon and you will finally be free.
Mary and John Foster
Des didn't want to tell them about the attack at Hogsmeade. They would not take it well at all, but it still had to be done. The Fosters had to know.
I was attacked in Hogsmeade. I didn't see the attacker's face, but he left me something. He had grabbed my wrist and imprinted a snake on it. So I would always remember who I was, at least that was what he had said.
I can't tell you much else. I'm trying my best to fulfill your wishes, but it is difficult. Rest assured that I won't give up.
Desiree
Rolling her scroll up, she attached it to the owl's leg and sent it off flying. Thinking about her mark, she looked down at it. Her breath caught in her chest.
"No.no.it can't be. This can't be happening." She held her wrist next to the window, under the light of the moon, just to get a better look at her mark. The sight hadn't changed. It was really happening, unless she was having another nightmare.
She silently pleaded for it all to be a dream that she would wake up from at any moment. Pinching herself, she realized it wasn't a dream. It was real. Des sank to her knees in silent sobs.
No matter. Suddenly, Des didn't think that she would last at Hogwarts very long. Her attacker could have taken her, but had let her go. Why?
All she could think was that he was waiting. Possibly seeing what she would do in response to the assault in Hogsmeade. Or, more disturbing, he was waiting to see what Dumbledore would do.
Des glanced around her dormitory. Everyone else was down at dinner, but she didn't seem to have a stomach tonight. Sitting down on her bed, her left hand subconsciously rubbed her right wrist. Her arm still hurt, but the pain was fading. Hopefully soon it would only become a dull throb, and then disappear into nothing.
A tear fell down her cheek at the memory of her day at Hogsmeade. It had been one horrible experience after another; however, she did deserve every bit of it.
Without realizing it, Desiree wondered if she would always be punished for what had happened before she was even born. Today was not the first time she wondered if Dumbledore did the right thing by saving her when she was an infant. Times such as these made her wish that she had been killed with her mother.
Harry would understand what she was going through. He had become an orphan when he was a baby, just as she had. And both their parents had been killed. Des really wanted to talk to him, but he didn't trust her, not that she could blame him.
The Fosters didn't understand, not really. They had tried, but inevitably failed. Now, Des would have to tell her surrogate parents about her new mark. What would they say? How should she tell them? How would she tell her fellow students? Would it give away her identity?
Maybe that was what her attacker wanted, to ruin her secret. If so, his plan just might work.
Desiree decided to go down to dinner, so as not to call too much attention by her absence. Once she sat down at the Gryfindor table, she began to eat, still wearing her gloves. That certainly didn't go unnoticed.
Hermione was sitting beside Des, and from her angle, could see a green area just above Des's gloves. Desiree instantly pulled her glove up higher and continued to eat.
"I heard that you had quite a day at Hogsmeade," Hermione commented, trying to get a better look at Desiree's wrist.
Des cleared her throat before answering, "Not really, I just saw a spider and panicked. I'm afraid I might have scared William in the process."
"Why are you wearing your gloves? Are you cold?" Harry asked. He had been keeping his head down, but raised his eyes to observe her reaction.
Pulling her gloves even higher, "I am a bit chilly." Her shaking hands were adding to the effect, despite the fact that they were shaking because she was nervous and terrified.
"You're sweating," Hermione stated.
Desiree turned her eyes to the girl beside her; then to the boy sitting across from her, who had both been interrogating her. "Harry, may I speak to you alone?"
"Of course," Harry didn't waste a moment. He was instantly up and walking towards the door, assuming that Des was following.
"All right, what's going on?" he asked once they were inside the Gryfindor common room.
"I need you to stop asking questions about me," Desiree answered, "Stop investigating me."
"Why should I? I know that you're hiding something, and it's big."
Weighing the consequences in her mind, Des took a moment to think about how to explain her situation while still keeping her identity a secret.
"You want to know what I'm hiding? My mother died trying to save me, just like yours did with you."
Harry didn't expect that one. It took him a few seconds to recover, "What about your father?"
"That is more difficult to explain, and this is not the time to do it."
He raised an eyebrow, "That's not everything. You're still hiding something, I can feel it."
"I'm sorry, but Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know the whole truth. Now, I know that you are the one leading the inquisition, and I need you to stop."
"Dumbledore told you to keep whatever-it-is a secret?"
"Yes."
Sighing, "I suppose Professor Dumbledore has his reasons. But answer this, what happened in Hogsmeade, what happened to your hand?"
Desiree reached over and began to pull off her right glove, one finger at a time. With the black leather removed, she rolled up the sleeve of her robe to give Harry a better look, "I was attacked."
His breath caught as he examined the dark green snake that circled her wrist. It had red eyes, like rubies, and the mouth was open wide, swallowing its own tail. Knowing for certain that it had not been there before, Harry asked, "Did that happen to you during the attack?"
"Yes, my attacker gave me a souvenir to remember him by. Now are you satisfied?"
"No, but I'll ask Ron and Hermione to leave you alone."
"Thank you," she whispered as she immediately replaced the glove on her hand, "Please don't tell anyone about the snake."
"I won't tell anyone but Ron and Hermione, I promise. Does Dumbledore know about it?"
"Yes," inhaling, "He said that there was nothing he could do. That I would have to live with it for the rest of my life."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault." It wasn't a total lie, the snake wasn't his fault, but other things were.
"I'm going back downstairs to see Ron and Hermione. Are you coming?"
"No, I think that I'll retire. I'm rather exhausted, it's been a long day."
"All right then, good night," Harry said from the entrance just before he left the common room.
Desiree stood there alone for a few moments before going back to her room. Plopping down on the bed, she buried her head in the pillow. Reaching her hands out, she plunged the bed into a welcome darkness. Her hand was gratefully numb, but her left hand still rubbed it. She imagined that her fingers were tracing the outline of the snake as they had so many times that day.
Sighing, Des drifted off to sleep. Peace finally came to her a few minutes later, only to be disrupted by nightmares.
Des was still surrounded by shadows, but it wasn't the enclosed darkness of her bed. It was more expansive and unknown. She could hear footsteps in the distance. Familiar footsteps. A sound that had haunted her since she was an infant.
"Who's there?" she called out, as she did every other time she had a dream such as this. And as usual, no one answered.
Electing to explore, she moved through the shadows towards the footsteps. Suddenly they were behind her. Spinning around, she caught a glimpse of a tall man.
Desiree shouted, "Who are you?"
A deeper, masculine voice responded, "Who are you?"
"Desiree Foster."
"No you aren't. There are no secrets here."
The stranger's last words were whispered into her ear, making her flesh erupt in goosebumps. She turned again, "Who are you?"
"I know all your secrets, and see all you try to hide. I am your worst fear."
The hairs on her neck stood up as his breath flitted across her face. Closing her eyes, she forced tears to flee, while trying to keep her body from fleeing. Barely standing her ground, she demanded, "Leave me alone!"
An ice-cold hand touched her shoulder, making her shrink away while crying out. The darkness moved in closer to encase her entirely.
Another whispered word tossed her out of her nightmare with a gasp. Heaving, Desiree threw open the curtains around her bed to find all the other Gryfindors asleep. Obviously, it was far into the night.
Des climbed out of bed and moved over to the window. She gladly sat down in the rays of the moon. Leaning her head against the wall, she whispered the last word that the stranger had said in her nightmare. "Riddles." she glanced down to her right wrist.
Something wasn't right. The snake, which had become very familiar during the course of the day, had changed somehow. It was still devouring its own tail, but, strange as it seemed, appeared to be turning towards her elbow.
Ridiculous. Probably the aftereffects of her nightmare, nothing more. The tattoo-like mark couldn't really be moving. Impossible. And yet, it had moved. Hadn't it?
"Desiree, wake up," Hermione kept shaking Des' sleeping form. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been on their way to breakfast when they found Des asleep in one of the chairs beside the fireplace in the common room.
"Hmm." Des slowly opened her eyes, "What time is it?"
"It's time for breakfast. Go on upstairs and change clothes," Harry gently ordered. It appeared that her confession had helped things among them, slightly. They didn't seem nearly as distrustful of her, and she gladly welcomed it.
Sluggishly, Desiree got up and made her way up the stairs to her dormitory. A few minutes later, she reemerged in a clean set of robes, ready to go down to breakfast.
Hermione attempted to draw Des into a conversation, but was dismally unsuccessful. The latter was too involved in her own thoughts to pay attention to anything else. Des' three companions would occasionally see her look down at her wrist. All three of them knew about the snake around her wrist, but they hadn't told anyone else. It didn't seem anyone else would find out, since Desiree was very good at hiding it beneath her dragon skin gloves.
Every once in a while, she would have to tell others that she was cold, but it wasn't that often. Apparently, the rest of the Gryfindors weren't as observant, either that or they didn't care as much as Harry and his two best friends.
Across the dining hall, William did take note that he hadn't seen Desiree without her gloves since she had run from him in the Hogsmeade alley. She had given him a pathetic excuse for her behavior, and he hadn't believed it for a second. Something had happened to her, and he was determined to find out what. It was Sunday, and that meant that he could spend the entire day trying to pry that secret out of her.
"Bless you," William laughed at Des' sneeze. He had convinced her to go down to the lake with him. They were sitting down beneath the tree talking, and for once Des seemed open to his questions.
"Tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Foster," he prompted.
Giggling, "They are absolutely wonderful. They've always been so kind and loving to me. I remember when they first took me in."
William interrupted, "You mean, the Fosters aren't you parents?"
Des seemed completely surprised that she had told him the truth, however she quickly regained her composure, "I'm an orphan. I never knew my parents; they were killed when I was a baby. The Fosters unofficially adopted me and they've raised me ever since."
"Why didn't you tell me that when I asked you about your parents before?"
"I don't like talking about it. Besides, what does it matter?"
"They were your family, it's who you are; it's your history. Without a history, you're no one. Do you know your real parents' names?"
"I know their names."
"Well.what are they?" William prodded.
"It's not that simple. I can't tell you; and I hope that you can accept that and let it be."
"Of course, if it upsets you."
Interrupting, "No, it's not that. It's just more complicated than it seems."
"I'm beginning to learn that everything concerning you is complicated," William smiled.
They spent the rest of the day together, finally leaving each other's company for dinner. Desiree was suddenly much more full of life, and all the Gryfindors were glad for it. It felt so unnatural for Des to sit quietly, not talking to anyone.
Once again, Sir Nicholas didn't make an appearance at dinner, but Des wasn't upset by it. Telling William at least part of the truth had put her in such a good mood that she didn't think anything could trouble her.
She was wrong.
Late in the night, Desiree was wakened by an owl scratching at her shoulder. Keeping herself from screaming at the alarming sight was a miracle, and she still didn't know how she had done it.
The owl held out its leg so that Des could remove the rolled parchment, then it flew over to one of the other girl's bed stand that held a glass of water. The owl greedily lapped up the liquid, but Desiree didn't notice. She was too busy reading the letter.
Noticing that it was from the Fosters, she commented, "That was fast. I only sent them my letter yesterday morning."
She instantly began to read the letter:
Desiree,
You should know that we could never be disappointed in you, and there is no way that you could disgrace us. We will always be proud of you.
I hope your trip to Hogsmeade wasn't as terrible as you feared. I don't think that many people would recognize you, at least they shouldn't. However, one can never be sure.
Keep trying to follow your instructions. I know it will be difficult for you, and it may feel like betrayal, but it must be done. Have courage. Just remember whom you are doing all this for.
Hopefully it will be over soon and you will finally be free.
Mary and John Foster
Des didn't want to tell them about the attack at Hogsmeade. They would not take it well at all, but it still had to be done. The Fosters had to know.
I was attacked in Hogsmeade. I didn't see the attacker's face, but he left me something. He had grabbed my wrist and imprinted a snake on it. So I would always remember who I was, at least that was what he had said.
I can't tell you much else. I'm trying my best to fulfill your wishes, but it is difficult. Rest assured that I won't give up.
Desiree
Rolling her scroll up, she attached it to the owl's leg and sent it off flying. Thinking about her mark, she looked down at it. Her breath caught in her chest.
"No.no.it can't be. This can't be happening." She held her wrist next to the window, under the light of the moon, just to get a better look at her mark. The sight hadn't changed. It was really happening, unless she was having another nightmare.
She silently pleaded for it all to be a dream that she would wake up from at any moment. Pinching herself, she realized it wasn't a dream. It was real. Des sank to her knees in silent sobs.