Disclaimer: I own anything unfamiliar. Woah.
His mournful screams pierced her ears, and to the very core of her soul. Tears stung at her eyes, but no formation took place. Her breaths became almost nonexistent as she realized what the cries meant. That was her father, the man that had renounced her from his name, and he was in such pain. Pain that she knew she may be able to reverse.
For you see, her brother was dead.
Without any hesitation, she pushed through the crowds and ran to the circle of people. Slipping her shoes into the loose mud, she slid between the legs of the Minister and leaned over her brother. A slight scream escaped her as she laid eyes on the beautiful boy beneath her, lifeless and still. Not once had that boy been still in his life; not once. And here he lay, his lovely brown eyes devoid of the light that had made him into the loveable boy deserving of his name.
She couldn't stand it.
And then she felt the arms of her father, wrapping around her and pulling her to him. But it was not in the manner that a loving father would do at a time when a loved one was deprived from both. Instead, it was in such a way that she could feel the stinging words of the night that he had first disowned her.
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She sat in the overly large armchair, her legs crossed over the armrest as her eyes scanned the pages of the book in front of her. She was thirteen, and going on her fifth year at a private witchery school in the south of Poland. There she was trained to become a very powerful witch.
She was just reading on a particular spell that would allow one to see another's past in the eyes of the beholder when the doors to the library burst open, a few chips of wood scattering from the splintering doors. Her head immediately turned to see who had entered in such a furious fashion, and she was greeted with her rather irate-looking father.
"Father?"
"Do not call me that name."
She was taken aback, but she did not argue. Instead, she closed the book and sat properly in the chair, her legs touching at the knee as she observed her fuming father.
"I don't understand."
"Oh of course not! Why should such a lovely witch as yourself possibly understand the matters of a regular wizard like myself!"
"Father!"
The latter exclamation was made not by herself, but by her elder brother, who had just then ran through the doorframe leading to the library. His deep eyes cast over her, and she silently asked what this ordeal was about. But he could not answer, and instead turned to his father.
"Father, she is not at fault."
"Do not stand up for a despicable being, Cedric! I have taught you better than that!"
He was about to reply when she leaned forward in the chair, a confused yet angry expression on her face. "Despicable!"
Her father turned and looked at her, his eyes flaring. She squinted.
"Oh, yes. Quite despicable indeed. You see, only a despicable witch would sign up to study dark arts!"
She slowly rose from her chair, her own eyes flaring with fury. She would not stand for such insults, whether they came from her father or not.
"Father, I chose to study the dark arts as a second degree. And only because I wish to become a Hunter!"
"There is no such thing as a Hunter in the wizarding world."
"Yes there is! I've learned about them and I shall become one. A Hunter is one who tracks dark magic, using their instincts and intellect to defeat those who practice it. A Hunter must be able to think like a dark witch or wizard, much like an Auror! And in order to do that, I must know the dark arts and how they are used and practiced! Inside and out!"
"NO!" he shouted, rushing up to her and stealing away her book. He cast it into the flames of the fireplace nearest her chair, causing the flames to roar before they calmed back down.
But before the flames had even retired to their natural state, she had grabbed her wand to retrieve the book from the fire. The corners were a bit singed and the material was hot, but no unsightly damage had been done. The book smoked in her hands as she stared back at her father.
"Do you not know how easily you could be tempted to the other side with such knowledge as you pledge on learning? Do you not understand that the Dark Lord will stop at nothing to get someone with such intellect as you would then have on his side!"
"And do you not think me strong enough and well raised enough to be able to withstand him!"
"Of course not!"
"Then you must blame that on the one who raised me!"
It was silent, save for the dull sounds of the flames licking at the logs beneath them. Her eyes burned into her father's, and neither would back down. She was determined to become a Hunter, for she had always been determined to help others as she had once been helped as a child. And he was determined to keep her from having any association with the dark arts. He just would not stand to see his youngest tempted into the forces of the Dark Lord.
"If you persist in your studies to become a Hunter, you shall no longer be a part of this family."
"Father," her brother protested.
But she held up her hand, signaling him to keep from going further. "I never dreamed there'd be a day that I would have to walk away from you, Father. I always hoped I could remain your little girl." She dropped the book at his feet, smoke still rising from her hand where the corners had burnt her. "But it seems that hopes no longer count in this family any more."
And with a few tears racing down her face, she walked past her father and to her brother. Stopping for only a moment, she caught his eyes and looked deep within. He sighed, the thought of his little sister being cast away heart wrenching. For you see, where most brothers and sisters did not get along, that was not the case for the Diggory siblings. They were best friends.
'I love you,' she whispered, then ran out of the library and to her room. He stood there, behind his father's dwindling shadow, with tears that protested against being shed in his eyes.
"I love you too, Alana."
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With burning tears now running down her cheeks at the renewed memory, she yanked herself free of her father. And once left alone, she latched onto Cedric. Her body tensed and all became still. Once she was relaxed again and her heart did not feel ready to burst, she slowly raised herself.
Everyone around her was frozen, stuck in the positions they had last been in. Time had been stopped; it was a magic taught at her private school, one she had not known to have learned. She glanced only at her father, and saw that he looked almost ashamed. But she did not pay too much attention to it. Instead, she turned her eyes back unto her brother.
He was the only other one save for her that was not frozen. She smiled wearily down at him, her eyes glistening with hope; that same hope that had been lost at her father's house. She leaned down and hovered over his face, her eyes level with his own dull ones. Her heart ached at the sight.
"Rezygnować
pewien najwyższa oferta oddech
I
żyjący światło
Powrót
ten chłopiec
Wobec
umieszczać rzeczy prawy"
She closed her eyes and very gently lowered her face until her lips were right above his own. She let out a sigh, and a stream of pale purple mist spilt out. It hovered for a moment, swirling about as if alive, before dodging directly into her brother's lips. She backed away and watched, rubbing away her tears, as her brother's body jerked for a moment.
And then, he stilled. This time very much alive.
She laughed slightly as his eyes opened, and everything returned to normal. The people around them continued to move, much as if nothing had ever happened. And indeed, none save for her and her brother knew.
The first thing he looked at with his new eyes was his sister, and he smiled. Reaching out for her hand, he ignored all around him. This included his father, who was just above him, joyful yet doubting at the same time for his son's renewed life.
She reached out, taking his hand in hers, and squeezed it gently. He pulled her to him with what strength he had, and she gladly embraced him. He stroked her hair ever so slightly and she smiled into him. "Oh Cedric."
He pulled away and looked at her, the same smile she once knew back on his face. It joyed her greatly to see the light back in his precious eyes. "You truly are my sister, Alana. And very much a Diggory."
Tears cornered her eyes at this, and she smiled a wavering smile. Cedric squeezed her hand in response, then looked up at his father. But for once, Mr. Amos Diggory was not looking at his beloved son. He was instead looking at his exiled daughter.
"Alana, you... you returned my son." She merely looked at him, the tears still present. Her father's own eyes were looking at her, much as they had not in such a long time. "You truly did learn such powerful, such useful magic. The same that I tried to deny you."
Still, words did not become her, and she could only stare at him. He reached out and gently took her face in his hands, caressing her cheeks lovingly. "My daughter."
She began to openly cry then, pushing herself into the arms of her father. She clung to him as she had not been able to in two years, desperately holding onto what she had lacked for too long. He held her back just as tight, tears welling in his own eyes this time. And not just for the fact that he had his son again. But for the fact that his daughter was once more his.
"Father."
He turned, still holding
his girl, and looked at his son. Cedric looked back, a slight smile
concealed at the tips of his mouth. "Please, allow Alana to
return."
He nodded, pulling her back from him to look at
her. "Of course. I should never have made her leave."
She smiled, kissing her father on the cheek before once more hugging him. Cedric smiled at the exchange, closing his eyes. He was grateful to begin his life anew, once more in possession of his darling sister.
"Welcome back, Alana."
Translation:
With a last breath
And lighted life
Return this boy
To set things right
Just so you all know, too: I own the character Alana Diggory. She doesn't actually exist. Thanks.
And yeah. I may be adding another story sometime that takes elements from this one-shot. It all depends, though.
love, renee
