Prologue
1998
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The metallic smell of blood permeated the room. Heavy, aching pain ran rife through Mae's semi-unconscious body. Nausea rushed through her upper half, starting at her stomach and moving up her chest, throat and mouth, leaving a vile mix of water, blood and saliva on her face. Remnants of more blood and some flem dripped from her mouth. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she looked around, dizzy and seeing double, head pounding. Lifting her searing head to inspect her wound only caused her far more pain, her body shaking and weak, trying to endure it all.
She lifted a few blood-stained layers of clothing to see a massive amount of skin on the left side of her lower ribs missing. Cringing at the sight of it, Mae tried to control the blood she was losing by pressing on it with weak hands, hitching her breath at the horrendous burning feeling this caused. She knew it'd have to be healed soon. Looking down at herself, she saw her skin was a sickly shade of white and had a sheen of cold sweat. Sticky, dried blood pulled at tiny hairs over her body and matted the brown hair on her head.
Two men's voices formed to her right behind a thin, wooden wall. It was water-stained and looked like it would collapse; however, a loud ringing in her ears made their conversation sound like gibberish. Adrenaline kicked in quickly.
Mae considered her options. Heaving herself up was one, but she knew her shaky legs and piercing pain in her side wouldn't allow her. She thought about how she'd gotten here, what she could do. Raising her hand to her neck, she checked for her time-turner.
"Shit," she rasped. Digging around in all her pockets also proved useless. She scanned the floor for any sign of it. The outline of dilapidated furniture was about all she could gauge. When she was going to give in on looking, she spotted a thin, stick-like thing lying flat in the corner of the room— her wand.
Shuffling against the floor planted splinters in her legs and hands, but she didn't care. Holding her wand gave her hope and, most importantly, meant she could heal herself.
Both voices heightened, and a massive thud caused the building to vibrate under her body. A violent hiss and a continuous snapping sound rang through the place. If she could get a look at what was going on, maybe she could prepare for whatever it was. Holding her breath, she hurried across the floor to a small hole in the wall, about the size of her eye, and looked into the room.
The gross snapping sound must have stopped while she moved because the building was silent. Mae darted her eyes around the room for a second before sighing and closing her eyes in relief, resting her back against the wall and wrinkling her face at the pain this movement caused. Opening her eyes slowly, she picked up her wand and started whispering the first round of the Vulnera Sanentur incantation. She had always been good at charms, and she'd improved massively in healing spells as of late.
"It'll leave another scar," she thought, staring solemnly at the mess of ripped flesh and blood on her body.
A sudden shooting pain spouted from her right leg. Mae screeched; she looked down at identical puncture wounds on her calf and a pair of yellow eyes.
"Ah, ah, Nagini. Don't kill the girl," someone teased from the doorway, "It's you." He stepped forward with bare, gnarled feet. The darkness lifted on his snake-like, sneering face as pale moonlight set on it, looking down at Mae like she was vermin.
What did he mean, 'It's you.' She'd never met this person before — if you could even call him a human — and she couldn't understand why his eyes held so much hatred for her. Stepping close enough to touch her, he put his wand to her chin, tipped her face with it, and observed her.
"Look at you. Pathetic, little mudblood."
Mae stared at the unfamiliar face, wondering if she was imagining this, which gave her some unwarranted confidence. She smirked at the comment he made.
"Good guess," she said.
"You don't know who I am," he said proudly, though she could sense a hint of annoyance in his expression.
Mae blinked innocently, "Why would I?"
He dug his wand into her neck, causing her to tense her jawline and hold her breath.
"Levicorpus," he spat. This spell raised Mae into the air and tipped her upside down, hanging her by her ankle. Blood soaked through layers of clothes from the cut on her side, falling on her chin and running down her pale cheeks to her forehead, colliding with tears that hung at the side of her face.
"Please..." she sobbed, delirious, "Please help me. Please don't."
The cloaked man stepped forward and smiled, "The last time you asked me for help was a lie," he said spitefully, "Cruciatus!"
Mae barely felt the effects of the curse before passing out.
Creaky iron gates opened to a long, gravel path lined with perfectly trimmed hedges on each side. A gigantic, stone-carved manor sat at the end, so haunting and permanent in its place. Pillars like giant stone trees placed evenly at each side of a tall, black wooden door with delicate, frosted detailing in the sidelights overlooked Mae's floating body. This entrance opened to a foyer just as flowery as the outside, similar in its sheer size and black, white, and dark green hues. A small amount of light came from a chandelier that hung extremely low– the rest from huge, gothic windows that let moonlight spill in. Their shadows sprawled over the walls, almost dementor-like. Renaissance paintings hung all around them, and statues of knights and what she assumed were the family's ancestors stared at her from each angle. Two grand staircases led to an upstairs with carefully sculpted stone bannisters, pillars, and trimming. She almost couldn't believe someone lived here, that it was their normality. Instead of being taken to a nice, inviting bed– which she hadn't had for almost a year now– The unknown man brought Mae to the left and down a dinky hallway that opened into a large room. It was empty except for an expensive set of wooden dining chairs, a grand table, and several stone sculptures lining the walls. Moonlight reflected on the glossy, brown furniture and black wooden flooring, and the ceiling looked like Merlin himself had conjured it. The man's feet slapped themselves down to the end of the room, and Mae dropped at the wave of his wand. She fell on her already mangled side and instinctively shrivelled up, biting her tongue to distract herself from the mass amount of pain she was in.
"Everte Statum." he whispered. This blasted Mae backwards, down a stone staircase into a pitch-black, cold cellar. Her sickly pale face looked up as he locked the door and walked away, the snake following suit.