'Only trust someone who can see the sorrow behind your smile, the love behind your anger, and the reason behind your silence.'

Unknown

Location:
Universe: M-583
Plane of Mortal Men: the Milky Way Galaxy
Class-One Restricted Planet: C-53/SR/O3-O2
Scottish Highlands: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
The Shrieking Shack

Date:
 2nd of May 1998
The Battle of Hogwarts...

At the age of eleven and the first time she had 'officially' stepped into the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Rieka Lestari had already come to understand that she was different from everyone else.

By the time she had reached the age of fifteen, turning back her days after having been accepted for an Apprenticeship under her Master, Rieka hadn't given an ounce of care towards the fact that she would never truly belong anywhere - even as her razor-sharp beak and talons had torn into her once Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor-turned-Werewolf: Remus Lupin.

And when she had reached well beyond the age of adulthood and had been all but forced to watch that accursed spell leave her former Potion's Professor's lips, the Killing Curse striking her Headmaster down from the Astronomy Tower, Rieka had still never voiced any displeasure at the knowledge that she would never fit in.

If anything, the Witch had never actually thought too much on the idea that she was different from anyone else she'd ever met. Not, well, at least since she had been eight years old and her adoption had finally gone through.

Even now, and as the twenty-three-year-old's hands continued to clutch at the bloody throat before her, attempting to stem the bleeding after that thrice-cursed snake had done its damned best to rip the owner's oesophagus out, the idea of just how different she was had been something the Witch had come to accept long ago; that she was and always would be different to those around her.

She had always been too Magical to be considered a Muggle - but had too 'dirty' of blood to be a 'proper' Witch. Far too young to be an Unspeakable's Apprentice - but also far too old to still be attending school after completing said Apprenticeship and having become her own Master.

However, and despite all the trials she had faced, all the mishaps and setbacks because of who and what she was, the only thoughts that were running through Rieka's head at that very moment in time were the words her father had spoken to her all those years ago; words that had not only explained how it was she was different in both the Magical and Muggle standards, but that she was also special. And that he would do anything within his powers to keep her safe and make certain that no-one would ever get their hands on her in order to use or harm her because of those very abilities - the self-proclaimed 'Leader of the Light' and the Dark Lord Voldemort most of all.

And even with the knowledge that she was somehow different from her peers; that she could do, see, and speak to things that they themselves could not, Rieka had still allowed her father and Master to bind her powers; restricting them and keeping them hidden from all who could use them.

Hiding them even from herself.

Even now, as the ever-dwindling list of healing spells continued to leave her lips and exhausting both her body and what little magick it still contained to the point wherein blackspots had started to appear at the edges of her vision; wishing ever so fervently that she had never agreed to do such a thing as each and every one of her spells failed, Rieka knew that what they had done had been the right thing to do. And that if there were anyone on this damned planet that she could trust unequivocally, even if one just happened to be currently dying under her blood-covered, trembling hands after the Dark Lord and his accursed familiar of a snake had done their absolute best to rid the world of their presence, it was the two people who had never once let her down; her father and her Master.

But now, however...?

Just near her mid-twenties and a fully-qualified Master in her own right, the former Ravenclaw found that she did care that she could do things that no-one else could. And she knew that it was now her father's turn to trust in her and allow her the chance to save him.

He was all that the Witch had, and Rieka would be damned if she'd let him just up and die!

She had waited none too patiently for Granger and her friends to vacate the Shrieking Shack before revealing herself to the fallen Wizard; the trio having believed their most feared and hated Professor to be dead - and probably even felt a little relieved by the idea, much to Rieka's consternation.

But she had known better; could feel the truth of her father's fate within her bones - the very magick that still ran through her veins. And when she had approached her father like one would have an injured animal, knowing that even as incapacitated as he seemed, it would have also been when Severus Snape would be at his most dangerous, Rieka instead was astounded to find that her father actually looked to have been expecting her; brown, almost obsidian-black eyes fluttering open and locking onto her hidden form before she had even reached his side.

His gaze had been so serious as she fallen by his prone form; dirty, scratched, and trembling hands moving immediately to clutch at his torn throat as a sob lodged itself in her own. And it had only been then, after having known the Wizard since he'd taken her away from that god-awful orphanage at the young age of eight did Rieka fully understand the depth of her father's commitment to his word.

"I would rather give up my life than reveal the gifts you've chosen to share with me today, Rieka."

The spells she had been casting died upon her lips as the Vow - the stupid promise that one Potions Master and Hogwarts Professor had made to an orphaned Witch as a joke so very long ago did hit the redhead like a stampeding herd of hippogriffs. And as Rieka met those dark eyes of her father's, she realised with a heartbreaking awareness that Severus Snape had never been one to joke around.

"No!"

Before she had the chance to say anything - do anything more, Rieka suddenly found herself falling as Severus projected a memory straight into her mind; one that had been hidden from all but the former Death Eater-come-Headmaster and the very Wizard he'd been forced to kill; the late Albus Dumbledore.

And without resisting, without the slightest glimmer of hesitation, Rieka let herself go; falling into her father's black gaze and into the vision, utilising a form of Legilimency that they had all but perfected over the years.

It was a form that made the walls that Rieka had built to protect her mind from intruders seem as though they were non-existent.

But like always, the redhead could do nothing but trust her father - completely and absolutely.

As dragonhide boots hit what looked to be dirty, dusty floorboards, misty eyes looked quickly around at their surroundings and widened with surprise when their owner realised where it was she'd ended up.

It was a pub.

Though it wasn't just any pub.

"Now... why would you bring me here?" Rieka questioned aloud and to no-one in particular as she took in the familiar interior of the Hog's Head Inn. She knew of one reason, of course. Although the amount of times both she and her father had spent at this particular location within Hogsmeade over the years had her uncertain; so many memories, so many moments she'd shared here with both her father and Master had her second-guessing.

The Witch could recall every grumble, argument, or even downright fistfight that had happened within these very four walls. However nothing was contested over more than that so-called 'prophecy' that the soon-to-be-Professor Trelawney had made in regards to one Tom Riddle - aka; the Dark Lord Voldemort - and a baby of all things!

Though Rieka had also learnt the real reason as to why her Master truly detested the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, one that had been surprisingly not so far from her own by the end of her Hogwarts tenure.

But as the redhead scanned the patrons, knowing that since this was not only a memory her father wanted her to see, but that she was also very short on time, Rieka was quick to locate Aberforth and Severus talking at the bar before her father was pointed off towards the private rooms located at the back. And following after the very Wizard who would one day come a knocking upon her door at the orphanage, not caring as she passed through the ghostly figures of the other patrons; knowing that they could neither see, hear, or feel her, Rieka came to a sudden and dead stop in the hall - and found that she couldn't breathe.

Severus Snape - the very Wizard who had come to change her life for the better - did not look a day older that she did. And despite the knowledge that this was but a memory, all but a shadow's shadow of the real deal, Rieka felt her eyes prickle; the image of the man currently dying in her arms warring with the image he was providing her within her very mind.

However, and as hushed, muffled voices did reach her ears, Rieka was quick to push her emotional turmoil aside, determined to hear what her father did so desperately want her to know. As the voices grew louder and more familiar, though, the Witch realised that she hadn't been wrong in her presumption, finally getting to witness the memory that her father had never allowed her to see; the only one that Severus had always proclaimed to be far too dangerous for even her eyes to gaze upon.

Rieka stepped closer to the Wizard who would one day become her father, closer to the door he was pressing his ear against - and found that was she was hearing was nothing of the likes she'd been expecting.

And that absolutely none of it made a lick of sense.

"Twin stars born, not a day apart.
Both born of love but shaped by hate.
One; feathers and fire, the other; fur and fangs.
However, each shall hold a different fate."

"Friend and Foe; Time and Magick.
Once divided, now the same.
Though all have taken and given none;
So disowned in kind is what they've become."

"Fact and Fiction; separate they must be.
For if two are to become one, lines will turn askew.
The past and future will collide;
And the Skrymor's wrath is what all will see."

"Stars, planets, legends, and myths;
Will vanish, crumble, wither, and decay.
The one born of both Time and Magick;
Will learn of this price much to their dismay."

"For there is a tale whispered across the Planes;
Of a Lady of Life that did turn from the light.
And the 'colour of Hate' did fade from view;
Much to one man's ultimate delight."

"But a destiny once denied will come into question.
And a pathway once lost may again be found.
For at the Snake's setting sun, Maern's Wolf shall be reborn.
But only if the Hunter can defeat the Hound."

"Though hope is not lost, fate not yet set in stone.
If lies are forgiven and secrets are no longer hidden;
And if the Wolf shall ever resettle;
Making a den upon the shores of Britain."

"Peace will come in the form of a storm.
A Lord of Time, a 'Wandering Healer';
Shall open her mind, open her heart;
And soothe her soul and become it's keeper."

"But if this Child shall forget its past:
And silence is all you can hear.
Follow your soul, follow their song;
And learn the truth behind the lies.
Reveal to all Magick's most deepest and darkest of fears."

When the last words left the soon-to-be Professor's mouth, Rieka Lestari found herself frowning at the implications of whatever it was she'd just heard could mean. The word 'prophecy' crossed her mind, but it sounded nothing close to what she'd learnt to be the one that had started the blasted war she was living through.

And so, with furrowing brows and a baffled expression marring her features, the Witch turned to the young version of her father with the hope that he could give her a clue as to whatever it was they'd just heard.

She had no clue what this 'Maern's Wolf' was - whatever in Merlin's name that meant! And nor did she know anything about some 'Lady of Life', nor this 'Wandering Healer'.

There was no way the prophecy - if you could even call it one - had anything to do with her!

But as Rieka's silver-grey eyes landed on the younger form of her father, she noted quite alarmingly that he looked as though he'd seen a ghost - or at least heard something that was scary enough to have turned someone the young Witch had never seen unflappable looking far more shades paler and terrified than ever before.

Before she could lose herself in the swirling mess of thoughts and questions that had suddenly erupted within her mind, Rieka found herself back inside the shambled remains of the Shrieking Shack, eyes still locked onto her father's black before he blinked and completely broke their connection.

"I-I know it's con-fusing, Rie," Severus gasped out in response to the bafflement that was oh so clearly lining his daughter's features. Though his words snapped her out of her shock and Rieka was quick to return to her attempts at saving him, the Witch resorting to muttering the very healing spell that her father had created under her breath even as she tried to not only stop his lifeblood from continuing to seep from the jagged, mutilating wound on his neck, but also tried to draw out the potent concoction of venom that Nagini had left behind and was currently waging war through his already severely-shocked system.

The memory didn't matter right now.

Not to the Witch.

Only he mattered.

"Rie," her father rasped, and she shook her head at the underlining command she could hear layered within her accursed nickname; not wanting to admit that without her 'other' abilities, there was nothing she could do despite the fact that darker spells had begun to pass her lips, never having been more grateful for her Master's rather 'grey' view on Magick.

She wouldn't- couldn't let her father die!

"Rieka!"

Severus' hand landed atop of her own bloody ones, his touch stilling her mind and causing her to freeze; her gaze finally snapping up to meet his with a startled surprise.

"You need to go," he continued, his voice somehow gaining strength despite his circumstances.

But once more, Rieka just shook her head, her silver-grey eyes clouding over with unshed tears as a result to what she was hearing.

Go?

Go where?!

Though before she could ask these questions, Severus' own gaze had cleared, all emotion on his face disappearing and she knew that he was occluding. Despite how weak it was, the pulse that continued to flutter under her fingers told her as much. And the Witch understood that if she didn't do something and fast, her father was about to instead.

And just as she'd predicted, and before she could even think up anything to do or say, Rieka found herself blinking rather stupidly when her father threw her for another loop and - apologised? - to her.

"I'm sorry," Severus whispered.

It was a move that even Salazar Slytherin himself would have been proud of, one that Rieka certainly would have felt such a feeling for - if more words had not passed her father's lips right afterwards.

It was a spell, that was all the Witch could decipher. Though it was spoken in a language that she'd never heard before, the words themselves sounding more like that of soft, haunting music than actual phrases. And before she could register what it was her father was doing, Rieka found herself almost forced backwards and away from the Wizard; her silver-grey eyes widening with alarmed surprise as blue and red tendrils of ethereal energy begun to appear in the air - surrounding her!

The Witch turned her gaze back to her father, hers seemingly asking the hundreds of questions she couldn't vocalise out loud. But something caught her eye and she looked down.

Rieka gapped.

Her hands, which were still pressed around her father's throat as she tried to stop him from bleeding out, were glowing with that same ethereal energy. And she was quick to understand that the energy wasn't coming from around her, but from within her!

Had he...?

"It needs to be fulfilled," Severus gasped out as his hand enclosed ever so tightly around hers. And as Rieka looked back to his face, she could see a glimpse of something flicker across his usually emotionless countenance. Something that told her he believed in the memory - the prophecy he'd just shown her more than anything else at that moment. And that he would do absolutely anything to see it being fulfilled.

"Just remember. Do-don't be afraid," he finished, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"I won't," Rieka choked out the promise with a sob, finally moving a hand away from his throat so she could wipe away the tear as it rolled down his cheek.

But the moment her bloody and unnaturally glowing brushed against the salty liquid that was but a remnant of the pain and sadness her father must be feeling; Rieka found her eyes being forced shut as the tear begun to radiate with a brilliance. And as the Witch reopened her eyes after the light had faded, what she found wasn't that of a damp thump, but instead a small tear-shaped crystal laying in the palm of her hand that shone as if it were made of diamonds.

Her mystified gaze returned to her father, the one of the two people she'd come to trust beyond all others, and a tear of her own finally escaped her eye as she watched Severus Snape breathe his last breath; a look of utter contentment upon his face at the knowledge that whatever work he'd been placed upon the world to do, it was finally over.

Though, and before she could mourn her father, that same ethereal energy coming from the Witch; still swirling and dancing around Rieka's form while it continued to grow brighter and brighter, did suddenly explode into a multitude of colours at the same time blue flames erupted throughout the shack.

And as the light and flames faded, the assortment of colours vanishing like specs of dust in sunlight, Rieka Lestari had disappeared from sight; the echoing song of a mourning phoenix being the last thing that could be heard.

Eregureta:
Zauafin: A-137
Vaka'Vellomiv Drueta
Etak'Garuot Ikkorivarub Druetan: A-01/JF/R4-O2
Krumk'Hima: Malithzea'Vetru

Bixak:
 Uxsokewequakeh: 4,600,000,000 B.C.
Kras'Elpa (Age of the Fey - also known as the Dark Times)

Silver-grey eyes snapped open as their host shot up from the ground and into a sitting position, a gasp being torn from pale lips as one hand darted to a heaving chest and the other moved to shakily swipe away the red fringe that concealed those same grey eyes, revealing the face of a girl who could not have been no older than twenty-three - and of whom did blink rapidly at the unexpected light she encountered upon her return to the land of the cognisant.

Rattled, panted breaths continued to escape her, chest heaving even as the hand that had been pressed against it moved to instead rub at the sleeve of its twin in an attempt to rid it of an unexpected chill. And as the young woman's mind took a moment to gather itself, silver eyes looked around to their surroundings; confusion chasing its way across grimy and scratched features as the redhead tried to figure out not only where it was she, well, was; but also as to how it was she'd gotten there.

Though barely a heartbeat into the observation of her surroundings, an auburn eyebrow cocked upon a pale forehead at the same time a newfound curiosity clashed with the confusion currently contorting the girl's features as her gaze fell upon one of the shabbiest-looking barns she believed she'd ever seen.

And what looked to be insipid, almost white sand, or grit, or dirt - she really didn't have the mind to take the time to distinguish between the three - ran between slender fingers as they shifted position upon the ground; the redhead pausing momentarily when she found that despite the surprisingly soft, however coarse feel that the light, almost snow-white granules possessed, the texture reminded her more of crumbled stone than any of her other previous conceptions.

Slowly managing to get her feet back under her, the woman did pause once more as something flickered across her mind that caused a frown to suddenly pulled at the corner of her lips; eyebrows furrowing as a feeling of déjà vu overcame her - the sense that she had been somewhere similar in the past.

But try as she might to keep her mind following that train of thought, straining her scattered grey-matter in an attempt to work out why waking up in front of a rundown barn would have given her such a feeling, the redheaded young woman found her mind jumping tracks and wandering - much like her eyes as they landed on a trail of footprints in the stone-like sand/dust heading straight towards said rundown barn.

And when she tried to follow where it was they had come from, she found that they disappeared into the trees of a-

"Is that a bloody petrified forest?!"

Blinking before she shook her head, her hands were quick to move towards her clothes in an attempt to rid them of the sand - that was seriously beginning to look more like petrified stone-dust as the seconds ticked by. And while her hands were busy accomplishing their appointed task, she tried to get her mind to focus and figure out what the hell she was doing waking up in front of a barn that looked as though it would collapse with but the slightest of winds, surrounded by a petrified forest!

She tried not to let her sudden panic overwhelm her; the fact that nothing - not one single memory was coming back to her from before her awakening but a minute before as her eyes continued to scan her surroundings of nothing but trees, trees, the scattered remnants of an ancient village, trees, a stone barnhouse, trees, trees, and - oh look, more fucking trees...

The twenty-three-year-old swallowed - heavily.

"Out of all the places I could have ended up. Why did it have to be a petrified forest in front of some old, stupid barn?" she bemoaned as her hands begun to slap at her clothes in a continued attempt to rid them of the - stone-dust? - that still clung the fabric; panic and confusion easily turning to anger towards her current and unknown predicament.

She never noticed how the peculiar tear-shaped pendent hanging from a chain around her neck began to take on a strange amber glow. And nor did she notice the way her skin seemed to shimmer a multitude of colours, almost looking like feathers or fur for but a heartbeat before fading away once more; her mind far too focused on trying to dredge up the smallest of memory - anything she could possibly recall through the fog that seemed to blanket he-

Hands froze against torn and bloody clothes at the same moment silver eyes snapped to the arm she had unconsciously tried to warm not moments ago. Though even before another heartbeat could pass, those same hands were moving to clutch at the girl's head as a crack that was made up of nothing but an excruciating, blinding white light cut through her mind; feeling as though it were trying to both burn her alive from the inside, out - and turn her inside-out at the same time; the pain forcing her to her knees with a whimper.

A moan left her mouth, eyes squeezing shut as if trying to block out the pain before it vanished as quick as it had appeared - and much like the crack that had produced it. She continued to just kneel there on the ground, shaky breaths rattling both her chest and body as her hands dropped back to her side.

"W-what... in Merlin's name... was that?!" was expressed in a half snarl between wheezed breaths as the girl reopened her eyes. Though, and much like the first time she had done so, the light of the day had her blinking after having held them closed so tightly and she took the opportunity to keep them closed and focus on just relaxing; the blackness behind her lids far easier to concentrate on over the oddness and brightness that did lay beyond them.

She felt her body beginning to de-tense almost automatically, with but that mere thought alone; the ease that the calmness overcoming her mind, body, and soul causing her to almost lose focus.

Well then... was thought the moment she finally reopened her eyes. And the shaky breaths that she had started out with after her agonising experience with the crack in her mind slowly strengthened, growing stronger with each and every inhale and exhale as her body did what it clearly already knew how to do.

She turned her gaze back to the surrounding forest as her emotions continued to settle, letting her thoughts idly wander and questioning herself as to how such a forest became petrified to begin with. Though knowing that such a thing wouldn't help her figure out where it was she'd ended up, she brushed the thought aside; concluding rather wisely that solving her first problem would be something far easier to achieve before tackling anything more; having figured - with a lot of hope - that discovering where it was she had ended up couldn't be as painful as to whatever the heck had just happened when she had tried to recall how it was she had ended up in such a desolated and rather eerily silent forest.

However the twenty-three-year-old did have an inkling - a 'feeling' if you will - that however it had happened for her to have ended up in what was seriously beginning to feel like an empty, petrified forest - if the complete and utter lack of noise that continued to meet her ears was anything to go on - it had something (see 'everything') to do with that strange crack.

"Not quite. But so very close," a voice suddenly spoke up from behind the girl. And it had her spinning on the spot so fast with startled surprise that she almost ended back where she originally started.

"Sorry, Rie," a pale-haired man apologised, surprising the redhead when he followed the words with a respectful incline of his head. However, and as he did so, the speaker's own odd gaze caught sight of the now-fading pendant that hung around the girl's neck and a ghost of a smile did flicker across his face.

The expression was gone by the time his dark eyes had returned to re-meet 'Rie's' however, his expression twisting into something rueful as he added, "I did not intend to startle you," while continuing to hold the gaze of silver-grey eyes that had all but narrowed into slits with suspicion.

"It's Rie-ka!" the redhead snapped rather sharply in retaliation to the name newcomer had used, her lip curling with derision despite having no clue as to why the simple shortening of her name had caused her hackles to raise; an anger she couldn't quite pinpoint the origin of suddenly rearing its ugly head and running rampant throughout her already overwhelmed and overly-stressed system.

However, confusion was quick to quell her ire, the expression that had twisted her features morphing into something more akin to uncertainty as she suddenly asked herself as to why the simple nickname had her reacting in such a manner.

It didn't particularly feel as though it was something that should have had her growing so angry, and so quickly. And as she tried to work through the maelstrom that was her inner thoughts and feelings towards her overly obtuse reaction to the simple shortening of her name that had been used, Rieka found her gaze dropping to the man's feet in a move she hadn't even realised she'd done until she had.

Surprise was quick to chase away the confusion and inability to understand her own feelings by what she saw, intrigue lighting up her eyes in a way that almost had them glowing the moment she realised that whomever the man was and however it was that he knew her... he hadn't left a single impression in the stone-dust underfoot.

In fact, other than the trail of footprints that led to the barn and the tracks that the Rieka herself had made after she had awoken, there were no other signs of life around.

"Do I know you?" was asked instead of the hundreds of questions that were currently running through the young woman's mind in regards to her companion's lack of tracks, or any tracks for that matter, as her eyes rose to re-meet the man's odd and eery black; a pair so peculiarly familiar that it had Rieka cocking her head to the side.

But her eyebrows were quick to furrow, thoughts on the man's odd gaze vanishing as all he did in reply to her question was shake his head at the same time a small, if abet - sad? - chuckle did escape him.

"No. Not... exactly, no," he admitted somewhat cryptically as the smile on his face turned wry.

So, I know someone you know, the twenty-three-year-old found herself mentally translating, by some means understanding what the man hadn't said. And she blinked in surprise at the somewhat unconscious thought.

Again it was something that seemed completely natural and utterly second-natured for Rieka to do. However, and as she continued to study the dark-eyed man before her, taking in his rather rumpled robes and roughened appearance that had it looking as though he'd just come from some kind of scuffle, Rieka found her nose wrinkling as she shook her head; all but dismissing the newcomer as unimportant before she turned her attention back to the surround petrified forest.

Unconscious thoughts, she gathered, were fine. Though the redhead did find herself feeling wary about thinking too consciously and possibly reexperiencing the agony she'd gone through not minutes earlier.

But as she turned her eyes back towards the forest and away from the pale-haired male, her head snapped back in his direction when the door to the barn he was standing before was suddenly thrown opened and passed - through? - him!

She watched as his form shimmered before blinking out of existence, only for it to reappear back at her side and now facing the barn with a stillness that was utterly eery. Though Rieka's eyes hadn't left the barn - the person who'd thrown the door open; the girl's gaze all but drinking in the scene before her as another male took a half-step over the doors' threshold and into the clearing.

"...ne of the most dangerous weapons in the whole universe! And you want to go and bloody poke it?! Are you bloody mad?!" was all but bellowed from the man even as he made a shoving gesture with his arm - a move that had Rieka's eyebrows almost disappearing into her hair, the twenty-three-year-old not having missed that the man appeared to be alone - right before said male slammed the door shut as he disappeared back inside the barn.

Not once did he notice that he had visitors.

"Well, that wasn't rude at all... And I should have known; bloody ginger my arse!"

Rieka blinked ever so slowly before she slid her gaze away from the now-closed barn door and to the pale-haired man standing at her side; the young woman not having missed what he had done either. And with an almost exasperated sigh, she asked, "So... you're dead?"