Though I've Tried To Forget

Rigella walked swiftly through the corridors of the castle. She had no trouble finding the Great Hall; she had always had a good memory. Generally useful, but not if there was something you wanted desperately to forget.

Green light flashed in her head, and she barely stifled a scream.

Green flashes, everywhere. High, maniacal laughter. Running… fire! Right in front of her, something falling, burning. Turn. Run. Scream. A black shape in front of her. A hand twisted in her hair. Hands, reaching, hitting, slapping her face. Scream again, kick, get him off! Slapping her again, see a light. Green lights, red-gold. Flames... now his turn to scream.

Run! A shadow... hide. A face! Hands, so cold, followed by pain. On the ground, blood in her eyes. A face, laughter, a wand tip raised. Screams everywhere. No! Not like this! Her scream, fear, so strong. A voice, so loud.

AVADA KED-

"NOOOOO!!!!" She was lying on the floor in the corridor with her hands over her head. She felt cold, and she was shaking so badly she thought she would have collapsed again had she been standing.

How much longer? She wondered.

AVADA KEDAVRA!!!

She nearly screamed again as the convulsions racked her body, but they were over in seconds. They never lasted more than a moment, but after six days, they still made her want to cry.

She rose quickly to her feet. The memories might shake her to the core, but she had already learned that to think on a fit for too long would leave her screaming. Anxiously straightening her robes, she hurried on to the Great Hall.

Considering it was only just seven o'clock, Rigella was not surprised that the long house tables stood bare, and silence filled the hall. The room was empty but for a small group of House Elves who stood in one corner, apparently surveying another who was pushing a ragged-looking broom across a patch of floor about two feet away from them. As soon as they caught sight of Rigella, a House Elf with particularly big ears snapped its fingers and whispered something to the other two who stood beside it. They nodded eagerly and disappeared immediately. A moment later breakfast appeared on the tables. Looking immensely self-satisfied, the big-eared Elf vanished, leaving a thin wisp of orange smoke.

Rigella spared a moment for the remaining House Elf, who was now working the broom with renewed vengeance -and magical aid, by the look of it- but sadness clung to the edges of her smile. House Elves were loyal to the bone, regardless of their masters, and those she had grown up with had been treated as respected friends. Many of them saw The Manor as a refuge for them as well as for wizarding families. They had begun to think of the humans as 'theirs', in a way that seemed to extend past being master and servant.

And when Voldemort appeared that night, in his contempt he overlooked the House Elves. Mere servants, he had thought, and servants do nothing but serve. They would not be a threat. Let them watch their masters die. But he was wrong. Very wrong…

For the House Elves had grown to care for these humans who treated them so well, and in caring they had grown protective. So when they saw their masters begin to fall, the children tortured and adults murdered, a fury they did not understand began to fill them. Burning with hate and anger equalled only by their pain, the House Elves attacked the Death Eaters.

Although fury and surprise gave them an edge, it was a fight they could not hope to win. The Death Eaters recovered from their shock, and turned their wands on a new victim- the House Elves. And although it should have ended quickly, the dark wizards wanted more than death for the servants who dared oppose them.

A group of students wandered into the Great Hall. They saw Rigella standing between the tables, and stood staring at her, whispering and pointing at her as though believing she couldn't see them.

She looked away, and her gaze came to rest on a silver goblet. She saw herself, reflected on its tarnished surface. A tear slid down her cheek. She had never felt so alone.

"Though I've tried to forget," she whispered, "this is who I am."

*****

Disclaimer: yep, I am JK Rowling, I own these characters and Hogwarts and- what do you take me for? If I had the talent and money of JK, I would be writing book 6, not fanfic. I don't own anything from the HP books (surprise, surprise).

I don't own Kat Evans either. She is the amazing creation of my good friend CJ Lupin. I hope I did her justice!

James' father's name and his mother's name "Nevaeh", as well as Rigella's explanation of his name are borrowed from tori_black. Everyone, read her stuff. It's great.

Rigella IS mine. Yay!

The title of this chapter is from "October" by Evanescence. It fitted my mood and the mood of the chapter.

Sorry it's so short this time. Happy reading!

Rigella