That night Vienna made her way outside, letting the wind dance over the tops of her bare shoulders. She pulled her strapless black top higher, her red cloak slung casually over one arm. The moonlight graced the grass like a silver kiss, the ethereal light beautiful on everything, turning the lake into a platter of gold upon which the shadow of leaves were served.
With no thoughts save for the scent of the wind, the grass, the air...she ran. She let her feet pound across the ground with no regard for teachers or anything else, just the slow beat of her breath in her ears, heart pounding in rhythm with it. She ran until she reached the gates of Hogwarts, and didn't stop until she was pressed, body heaving with breaths, against the cold iron. She pushed, slamming against the metal, panting with her run.
She pulled back, bright eyes flickering up to the tops of the gates, and she backed up, throwing her cloak onto the ground. She came pounding at the gates, feet slapping the ground as she pushed off, grabbing the bars and launching herself over the top of the bars. She fell to the ground at the bottom onto gravel, and lay stunned for a moment, pinpoints of pain all over her back.
But she wanted to...go...to be free. She knew it was breaking rules, and she knew that it would hurt her grades if she was caught...but she couldn't be here. It was her parents, everything about them...Slytherin just oozed everything about them. A death was considered normal, amusing...
Everything was just a joke...
And emotions, real ones, weren't allowed.
She lurched to her feet, running, running again, her lungs exploding against her ribs, and she felt her vision become star-spotted. Somehow the pain was welcome, a sign that she was still there and not just a loud dream, something she had made up to pass the time.
As she ran the town disappeared behind her into the black of night and she was engulfed by trees and a rocky landscape. She kept running until she fell, tripped over a tree-root, unable to fight any more. She began to cry for no real reason as she lay there, feeling like a silly child far from home.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?" Demanded a voice full of venom, dripping with scorn as she felt a blow delivered to her face.
Someone grabbed her head, pulling it back, revealing her milky throat, and her breath began to come in short, sporratic bursts. Everything was unclear, she couldn't see...her thoughts were blurred and she didn't know where she was. Why was she even out here? Why had she left the safety of her warm bed?
Was it to run from the creeping indescision that overwhelmed her, the stress of keeping up the outgoing, bouncy, perfect façade.
"I said..." Hissed the voice, bending her backwards painfully.
She growled low in her throat. "I KNOW what you said. I CHOSE not to answer, moron." She said as she flung her leg out, sending the figure crashing down onto their backside with a painful yelp.
She rolled to the side and stood, finding herself in a closed circle of black cloaked figures. Someone with a snake-like face and red eyes stood from where she had thrown him to the ground, and whipped out his wand.
She looked at his face.
Geez, it was ugly.
"Calm down, Micheal Jackson."
"What? What did you call me?"
"Nothing. It was just a statement of how your face looks like Botox gone wrong."
She felt a cold hand slap her, sending her reeling backwards into the arms of a cloaked figure, a male, apparently.
"Geez. Someone's a bit horny, aren't they?" She demanded, slamming her foot onto his instep, rage burning in her eyes. She spun to look at the person she had fallen into, and with a quick shove, he was on the ground.
She whipped out her wand, backing against a tree so that they couldn't get her from behind. She cursed herself for having left so suddenly.
"Master...what should we do with her?"
"Er...ahm...nothing? Let me go?" She suggested.
"Once you find out who she is, kill her."
The voice that had asked what they should do, with cold, glittering grey eyes, watched her. "Well? Who are you?"
"Who are you?" She shot back in return.
"No one of consequence...now answer my question."
"Vienna Lestrange." She said with a shrug, ready to attack them all.
Everyone paused, murmuring, and two figures stepped forwards, pulling back their hoods.
"Darling, welcome to your new sanctuary...the arms of the Dark Lord..." Said her father.
"Come join us!" Sang her mother.
"I'll rip your legs off first, bitch." She cursed at her mother, and took off running through the woods, dodging trees and rocks, finally making it to the outskirts of the villiage. Suddenly, with a pop, her mother appeared before her, grabbing her, and they re-appeared in the clearing.
She dropped her at Voldemort's feet. "Bow to your Master."
"I bow to NO ONE!" She screamed, trying to throw her mother off.
"Now, now...poppet, be good." Hissed her father, yanking her hair.
She winced, angry tears filling her eyes as they took her wand, hands held behind her back, and forced her to kneel. Voldemort tilted her chin up, looking at her face with an iron grip, even though she was trembling with the urge to get away.
"She'd be a good companion." He said thoughtfully, touching her hair with a cold hand, fingers then grazing her cheeks.
"What?" Asked her mother, obviously confused.
"A companion, perhaps for me...yes, she's certainly pretty enough, and I could break that firey temper of hers." He whispered with a sneer, looking down on her, fingers brushing her lips.
"Anything you wish, Master." Replied both her parents. They let her go, and this time they let her free, let her run all the way back to school in a blur of tears and hatred, over the gates, and into bed.
