VERY IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: I CHANGED PARTS OF THE LAST CHAPTER. It'd probably be good for you to back and reread it because some of the changes are a little important but if I tell you what I changed then you'll be like "But wait why is that important" and I'd be kinda giving it away and blehhh.

But, if you're too lazy to go back and reread it then I'll just give you the biggest change: I changed the Chosen One's powers/gifts/qualities. This is what I changed it to:

"They can sense things that others can't," Mrs. Beaver explained. "They have a way of knowing things about something or someone before they've even met them or before it even happens. They can immediately tell when something's wrong and when they're in danger. It seems they always know what to do in a dangerous situation. They can know what to do that will save everyone."

"And it's been told," Mr. Beaver added. "That in times of anger, the Chosen One can do powerful, dangerous things."

Changed it because idk I wasn't feeling it.

ALSO I changed my pen name from xx Camille Elizabeth Storm xx to theboyandgirlwhowaited because Amy/Rory feels.

AND this kind of late but I changed the cover to this story :) I quite like it. :) (Probably cause I made it...lol)

So you guys really don't want Nina as the Chosen One apparently haha...all I'm going to say is, you might be surprised. Maybe. Who knows. By the way, HPJ-kittycat, I LOVED YOUR IDEA. Seriously, I wish I was that creative.

Thank you guys for all of the reviews, and here's chapter twelve :)

CHAPTER TWELVE:

The Witch's House

MARA

This was by far the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life.

In fact, I still hadn't grasped what was going on - there was no way this was actually happening to me. But, it was.

There I was, in a whole other world at the back of a common wardrobe, sitting in a beaver dam and talking to beavers that could talk back. Not to mention cook - and well.

And sure, all of this was amazing. It really was. But it was also very, very unsettling. To be honest, I was ready to leave, right then and there, before something bad happened. Which, of course, was bound to happen. Being a human in a magical world where people were arrested just for being with humans? That was just not going to end well.

But no matter how many times I'd spoken my concerns about this place, not a single person had listened. Not even Fabian, who was one of the most sensible out of all of us. No, everyone else was dead-set on finding Mr. Tumnus. They cared more about putting Nina at ease than thinking rationally.

At least Patricia and Joy are on my side, I thought as I glanced at both of them. However, they were too interested in what Mr. Beaver was going on about at the moment. I groaned under my breath.

Suddenly, Mr. Beaver slammed his hand on the table, causing all of us to jump a mile into the air. "Aslan is on the move," Mr. Beaver declared in a low voice.

I perked up, suddenly directing my full attention at Mr. Beaver. I'm not sure why, but hearing that name...I got the strangest sensation. Like I'd just heard a really lovely melody, or received a comforting hug from someone I loved.

"Who's Aslan?" Jerome demanded, breaking the lovely mood. He didn't seem to be feeling the same effect that we were. In fact, he looked like he'd swallowed something dreadful.

After laughing about the fact that we didn't know who Aslan was and making us look like fools, Mr. Beaver explained that he was the real king of Narnia. Curious, I began to wonder what he looked like. Was he short, tall, old, young?

Right as Mr. Beaver was explaining that Aslan was waiting for us at the Stone Table, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Jerome was slowly sneaking out the door. My eyebrows shot up, and I glanced at the others, but they were intently listening to Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, who were now talking about a prophecy...something about five Daughters of Eve and five Sons of Adam defeating the White Witch.

I'm a very curious person. When I say this to most people, they get surprised. 'What? Sweet, quiet Mara Jaffray, curious?' Those that know me, however, would disagree. They'd probably label me as 'very, very nosy.' But the point still stands: when I see something suspicious, I won't stop until I find out the root of what's going on. After all, it's always been my dream to be a journalist. I may be small and quiet but I can be rather persistent, if I say so myself.

So, slowly, I edged out of my seat. No one noticed - Mrs. Beaver was explaining who The Chosen One was, now. Although I was curious to find out about the prophecy, I was even more curious to know what Jerome was doing sneaking out the door and out into the cold, without his coat.

Without making a noise, I slipped out the door, closing it softly behind me. I stood still for a while, letting my eyes get adjusted to the darkness, and saw Jerome steadily climbing up the snowy slope. I furrowed my eyebrows, but began to slowly follow him, skirting around trees so he wouldn't see me. When we were near the top of the slope, he stopped. I abruptly ducked behind a tree.

"I can hear you," Jerome called out, slowly turning around. I held my breath. "Question is, though, who are you?"

Sighing, I poked my head out from behind the tree. "Mara?" I stepped out from my hiding place, and he groaned. "It would be you," he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What are you doing out here? Go back inside." Jerome crossed his arms over his chest, deliberately not answering my question.

"I could ask you the same thing," I replied, trying to look unfazed. Although, in all honesty, I felt kind of awkward. I didn't want to admit it, but Jerome intimidated me.

Jerome rolled his eyes. "It's none of your business, now, is it?" He snapped.

"Where are you going?" I questioned.

Jerome sighed exasperatedly. "Are you always so annoying? Just go back and mind your own business."

"You haven't answered me yet."

"Mara!" He shouted angrily, making me jump. He stood there, glaring at me. I held his gaze for a moment, but then awkwardly looked down at my feet. "If you really want to know, then I suppose you'll have to follow me and find out." He answered, smirking. Thinking that he'd won. Thinking that there was no way shy, timid Mara would follow him. He began to walk back up the slope, not looking back.

I stared at his retreating back, debating. I chewed on my bottom lip. Jerome was scheming, and if I were to follow him, it would most likely lead into trouble. And the warmth of the dam was really tempting. It would be so easy to go back inside and enjoy a meal. And why shouldn't I? Jerome didn't want me to follow him, anyways. But, the curiosity was eating at me...

Who cares? This is Jerome, and like he said, it's none of your business where he goes or what he does with his time, I argued with myself. In fact, I was just turning back towards the dam, when I heard a tiny voice in my head.

"Come on, Mara. Live a little."

I sighed.

Mick.

He had been right, of course, as he usually was about those types of things. I needed to live a little.

Well, I'd just have to show him.

I took a deep breath and turned around, slowly climbing up the hill behind him. After all, what kind of person would I be if I let Jerome get in trouble? And anyways, if I turned around, then he would win our argument. And I couldn't have that. At least, I tried to tell myself these things as I climbed the hill behind him.

I was so deep in my thoughts - most of them about how stupid I was for doing this and how I really should've brought my coat and how the Narnian government should learn of this handy invention called roads - when I walked straight into Jerome, who had stopped. "Decided to follow me then, did you?" He asked nastily.

I shrank away from him. I was going to come up with a reply, but suddenly I stopped short. In front of us was a large castle. Except it didn't look like a normal castle. It was a sort of blue color, and a green glow was coming off from it. It actually looked like it was made of ice. It probably is, I thought to myself. In a place like this, anything is possible. I stared up at the castle in awe for a few minutes, hardly noticing how my hair was flying all over from the wind. "Wow..." I stuttered out in surprise.

"Yeah," Jerome said softly. Only, Jerome was staring not at the castle, but at me. I turned to him, and his eyes snapped so quickly to the view in front of us, it was almost like he hadn't ever been looking at me at all. And maybe he hadn't been.

Suddenly realization hit me. "Hang on," I began. Jerome sighed and closed his eyes, as if he knew what was coming. "Hang on, hang on, hang on. Is this the witch's castle?"

Jerome sighed again. "She's not a witch," He insisted, turning away from me and marching forward.

"Wait, no!" I cried, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards. "What on earth are you doing? You can't seriously be thinking about going in there!" I searched his eyes, trying to decide if he was serious. He simply shrugged, breaking eye contact. "Are you insane?" I shrieked.

"Quite possibly," He replied, smirking.

"Jerome! What kind of person walks deliberately into a witch's house?" I shrieked.

"Me, obviously." Jerome rolled his eyes. "Now let me go," he said, yanking his arm away from me.

"No!" I latched onto his arm again. "I can't let you do this, I'm not going to-" Jerome yanked his arm away again and began determinedly marching forward, across the bridge. "Jerome, stop right there! You don't know what you're doing! Jerome! Stop it right now, you can't do this! You- you-"

"Go away, Mara!" Jerome shouted, not turning around. My desperate shouting had no effect on him whatsoever.

I stood there, standing at the edge of the bridge, alone. The wind blew, and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself and staring at Jerome's retreating back. I desperately hoped he would stop mid-way, turn around, and realized what a terrible idea this was.

But he didn't.

Of course he didn't. Because he was a stupid idiot.

"Well, of course, the rational thing to do would be to go run back to the dam and bring everyone so we can stop him before he reaches the castle," I murmured to myself. Except for Jerome was already halfway across the bridge. There was no way I would manage to run all the way back to the dam, gather everyone, and bring them back in time before he went inside.

Now, he was three quarters across the bridge. I can't let him do this. And, before I completely realized what I was doing, I had rushed across the bridge and caught up to him. "Well I just can't seem to get rid of you, can I?" Jerome said dryly, rolling his eyes.

"You're a total idiot, you know," I said.

"Been called that before."

We were at the end of the bridge, standing in front of a large, icy door. Without any hesitation, Jerome opened it and slipped inside. I placed my hand on the door, and hesitated again.

"JEROME! MARA!" I whirled around. In the distance, I could make out a group of eight children standing at the edge of the bridge, calling our names. I bit my lip worriedly. Was this really wise? To walk into a witch's castle, when it would only take a few minutes to walk safely back into the company of my friends?

I sighed. No, it wasn't wise at all. But I couldn't very well let Jerome walk into a witch's castle, could I? Surely he would get killed. Maybe I could get him to change his mind. Maybe. But I couldn't leave him alone. What kind of person would I be if I did? How could I live with myself if I did? With one last glance backwards, I stepped inside the door, and gasped.

Right in front of me was a very large bear.

I froze, paralyzed with fear, and not daring to move, until I heard Jerome call out, "It's not real, stupid."

He was right. It was just a stone bear. In fact, millions of stone creatures surrounded it, scattered around what looked like a courtyard.

"It looks so real, though," I murmured, reaching out a hand and hesitantly touching the bear on its stone cold nose. I focused my eyes behind it, where Jerome stood, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and eyebrow lifted, looking extremely arrogant. Oh wait, nevermind. That's how he always looked. Idiot, I thought to myself.

"So you followed me?" He questioned. "I thought for sure you would chicken out."

"Yeah, about that," I glanced hesitantly towards the door. "Maybe we should go back." Jerome didn't look convinced. "The others are worried about us," I added.

Jerome scoffed. "Yeah, right. More like worried about you. They couldn't care less about what happens to me."

"I'm sure that's not true," I replied softly. He rolled his eyes. "Jerome, please, be reasonable."

"What's the fun in that?" He smirked.

I let out a long sigh, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Do you mind telling me what you're even doing at a witch's house?"

"She's not a witch," He insisted, not looking at me.

"Right. Because normal people have a million animal statues in their house."

"Actually, my old neighbor did," said Jerome.

"Jerome, come on. Have you ever heard of a queen that kept a million creepy statues in her house and was often referred to as a witch?" I demanded.

"Have you ever met a queen in real life, Jaffray?" Jerome demanded, lifting an eyebrow. "Of course you haven't. Then how would you know what sort of things that Queens do and keep in their houses?"

I sighed loudly. "You're being ridiculous." He didn't answer me. "Please, Jerome? Can't I at least know why you left a perfectly good meal to come here instead?"

Jerome groaned. "Well, if you're going to keep nagging me about it..." He sighed, exasperated. "When I followed Nina here, a few nights ago, I met this woman...she was gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. At first, I thought she was going to kill me," he admitted, and I scoffed. "But then she invited me onto her sleigh, and we had a talk. She gave me some hot chocolate...and some Turkish Delight..." Suddenly his voice trailed off and he seemed to be caught up in the thought of the Turkish Delight. His mouth was practically watering. I raised an eyebrow, and he shook his head. "Anyways, she told me that if I came back with my friends, she would give me more." Before I could reply, he added, "And, she said she would make me King." He looked at me smugly.

"I'm guessing your mother never told you not to talk to strangers," I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, well, she didn't." Jerome said coldly, glaring at me.

I sighed. "Can't you buy some Turkish Delight back at home?"

"Actually, Mara, do you know what a better question is?" Jerome said, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes at me. "It's, what exactly are you doing here? I didn't ask you to come. You came all on your own so stop complaining and whining. I swear, you are the most aggravating, whiny, and nosy person I've ever met." I cringed. Ouch. That stung. "If you want to go so much, then just leave." His voice was cold and harsh, and I stepped backwards, startled. "I'm not stopping you."

There was a heavy silence between us. Finally, I said, "And leave you here to die by yourself?"

"Please, stop acting like you actually care about my well-being. It's sickening," Jerome spat.

I cringed again, then sighed. "Jerome." His eyes snapped up at me, looking cross. "Please." I whispered pleadingly.

His expression softened, and for a second, I thought he might actually be considering leaving. He might would actually come with me and maybe we could pretend the whole thing never happened. But just like that, his expression hardened again. "No," He said with finality.

And that was that.

I walked behind him in silence, feeling awfully sick and almost like I was going to throw up. Suddenly, he stopped beside a statue of a lion. He picked up a piece of charcoal at his feet and drew eyeglasses and a mustache on the stone lion. He stepped back to admire his work, looking smug. I watched him, my eyes narrowed, but said nothing. I didn't want another death glare and a cruel, snappy comeback from "I-Must-Be-Pregnant-Because-I-Have-So-Many-Mood-Swings" Jerome.

The two of us approached the steps to the castle and I gulped. What on earth was I still doing here? Jerome was right, I should've left while I still could. Jerome was in front of me, and he lifted his leg over a statue covered in snow.

BAM! The statue sprang to life and I fell backwards, screaming and nearly peeing myself in the process. Jerome let out a yelp of surprise as the statue jumped on top of Jerome, pinning him to the ground.

"Be still, trespasser," the statue growled - which, by now, I'd figured out wasn't a statue at all, but a wolf. That could talk. Of course. "Who are you, and who is your accomplice?" I assumed he was referring to me, but I didn't dare move, even though my bottom was stinging from falling backwards onto the ground and into the wet snow.

"I-I'm Jerome!" Jerome stammered out. I'd never seen him look so terrified before. "The Queen sent me here! I met her in the woods the other day, she told me to come back-" The wolf didn't seem convinced as it continued to snap its teeth and growl. "I'm a Son of Adam!" Jerome blurted out.

Well, that seemed to do the trick. The wolf stopped growling, and immediately stepped off of Jerome. "Then I'm assuming you're a Daughter of Eve?" The wolf turned to me, his yellow eyes shining in the darkness.

Wordlessly, I nodded. I was starting to assume that "Daughter of Eve" was Narnian for "female."

The wolf turned back to Jerome, who was still on the ground beside him. "Well, then. My apologies," the wolf sneered, although he didn't sound very sorry at all. His voice was raspy and frightening, and it made my skin itch. I slowly stood up, still shaking, and brushed snow off of myself. Jerome stood up, too. "Right this way, fortunate favorites of the Queen," the wolf growled. "Or else, not so fortunate." The wolf began to pad inside the castle. Jerome and I exchanged glances, but wordlessly, we followed him.

He led us through a grand hallway and up a long flight of stairs until we entered what appeared to be a throne room. At the end of the room was a tall, icy throne with a fur stole wrapped around it. "Wait here," the wolf said gruffly, and padded away.

I glanced at Jerome, who seemed to have forgotten I was still there. He was busy staring longingly at the throne that stood in front of him. Slowly, he approached it, running his hand across the top and then sinking into the throne, a smug grin on his face. I scoffed. Disgusting.

"You like it?" Jerome jumped and whirled around. A tall woman wearing a long, ice blue dress that was very fitting to her figure was standing behind the throne, a faint smile on her face. She wore a tall crown made of icicles on her head, and her hair was blonde and wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head. She was beautiful, no doubt, and Jerome especially seemed to think so, from the way he was staring at her.

"Y-yes," Jerome stammered hastily. "Your majesty," he added quickly. I cocked my head to the side as the woman sat down at the throne. Was this the witch? I'd assumed she'd look...well, ugly. After all, isn't that how witches are depicted in storybooks? And she didn't seem to be very cruel, either. Perhaps Jerome was right. Maybe she wasn't a witch at all. But still, there was something off about her. I just couldn't put my finger on it...

"I thought you might," the woman replied, smiling almost kindly. Suddenly her eyes focused on me. "Who's this?"

"Oh, this is Mara," Jerome explained hastily. "She's my -"

"I came here with him," I explained. 'Friend' didn't really seem like an appropriate word.

"I see." She looked away from me and back at Jerome. "Now, tell me. Are you particularly well in Maths?"

Jerome stared at her, surprised. "Well, yeah. I suppose so," he replied slowly, sounding perplexed.

"Then why," The woman's voice raised drastically, causing me to jump backwards. "Have you only brought one person?" She practically screamed, rising out of her seat. Jerome stumbled backwards.

"I tried-" Jerome tried to explain himself.

"Could you not count?" The woman demanded, cornering him as he stumbled backwards.

"They wouldn't listen!" Jerome cried.

"I clearly remember asking you to bring nine others, not one!" The woman screamed.

"I did bring them halfway!" Jerome cried desperately. The Witch (because there was no question now about whether she was actually a witch or not) paused. "They're at the little house on the dam, with the beavers!"

"Jerome!" I hissed, aghast.

"Oh really?" The Witch leaned back, looking satisfied. "Well. I suppose you're not a total loss, then. Are you?" She turned away from him, and slowly approached me. I cringed, wanting to turn and run but unable to move from the spot. "And you," she spoke harshly. "You may find it wise only to speak when spoken to. Is that understood?" Wordlessly, I nodded. She gave me a thin-lipped smile, and turned around, walking back to her throne.

"I-I was wondering," Jerome blurted out. The Witch stopped and turning around. "D'you think maybe...I could possibly have some Turkish Delight now?" He stammered tentatively.

I looked at him incredulously, and truly felt the need to slap him in the face. How dare he be so selfish and inconsiderate?

The witch lifted an eyebrow, looking amused, and turned to a short man standing next to her (most likely a dwarf) that I hadn't noticed before. "I think our guests are hungry," She said to him, smirking.

The dwarf grinned evilly, and approached us. "This way," He said tauntingly. "For your desserts," He pulled out a knife and held it to Jerome's back, and then grabbed my back with his other hand, pinching my skin. I let out a small yelp of pain as he thrust us forward.

"Maugrim!" The witch called. We stopped, and the wolf from earlier stepped beside the Witch's throne. The witch turned to him. "You know what to do," she instructed.

The wolf leaned back and let out a long howl. Instantly, several wolves responded, and out of nowhere, they entered the room. The whole pack streamed out of the castle, Maugrim leading it. The dwarf thrust us forward again, and I wondered for a moment where the wolves were going. Realization struck me only a few seconds later, and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick.

They were going to the Beaver's Dam.

They were going to kill our friends.

And there was nothing we could do about it.

A/N:

dum dum dummmm

Sorry this chapter was a little short...I tried to make it longer, but then I couldn't find a good place to end it at so I just left it like this. Sorry if this chapter sucked but it's really late and I'm feeling quite sleep-deprived but I really wanted to put this up today because I knew I wouldn't have any time later.

Speaking of which, Happy Election Day! That is, if your American. If you're not, then nevermind.

OH YEAH SPEAKING OF IMPORTANT THINGS I KNOW THIS IS KINDA LATE BUT DID ANY OF YOU SEE THE SEASON 3 PROMO FOR HOUSE OF ANUBIS OMG ASFDSJFLKDSNFDSNFLKDS I'M SO EXCITED I CAN'T CONTAIN MYSELF WAKE ME UP IN JANUARY PLEASE.

Also, if you like this story, then you might also like my new story House of Taylor Swift, which is a collection of songfics set to really any song by T. Swizzle that I could possibly relate to HOA. I've only got one chapter up so far but you should definitely check it out :D Thanks!

QUESTION FOR THE CHAPTER: Which House of Anubis character are you most like? For me, it's definitely Fabian. He's my spirit animal, no joke. Like the only thing we don't have in common is that he's really smart and I'm not. But we're both really awkward and like to spend time in libraries and I'm often described as a pushover and a doormat, just like Fabian. I'm also a lot like Mara and Amber though, because I'm usually known as the goody-two-shoes, and I have a lot of blonde moments.

Thank you all for reading, and please review! :)