A/N Hi, I am very delighted to finally be publishing the updated version of this story (yes I have written these chapters a long time ago and yes I have rewritten them about six to seven times). For the longest time I have been obsessed with the Marauders and the designated man who my character shall fall in love with called Remus Lupin. It is first and foremost a love story, however I would like to attend whoever is reading this that I shall not only be focusing on the relationship between my character and Mr. Lupin, but much rather some other characters/storylines from this era too.
I would like to note that Remus Lupin and the Marauders are teenage boys. See how I'm emphasizing the boy part? They're not twelve-year-old girls, sorry not sorry (I'm actually sorry, I much prefer twelve-year-old girls over boys. Not in a gross way). Let's try not to hate. Thank you.
Now that that's over with, enjoy your stay. And I hope you stick around for the slow, and I mean sloooooow updates. (But they're worth it, I promise).
Disclaimer: I do not claim these characters as my own (except the ones that obviously are mine). All credit goes to JKR… regrettably.
Prologue
The floor of the cell she was lying on was hard and cold. Her back ached terribly and she swore she felt a bug crawl over her exposed arm. If she had the energy or the resolve to kill it, she would have surely swatted the poor creature right of her arm and put it out of its misery of being trapped down here with her. But seeing as she had neither, she decided upon laying perfectly still and remembering the tickling sensation of its little legs pattering across her skin. It much resembled the steadfast dripping of the water that she heard resonating from somewhere in the darkest corner of the cell.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
Exhaustion had spread throughout her body to the point where she could almost no longer stay awake. Her eyelids kept dropping and she had to force them open every couple of seconds. If she wasn't so determined to stay alert she would have permitted her eyes a moment of rest hours ago. The gash on her stomach was oozing blood and she had allotted the last of her strength to pressing her hand against the deep wound to try and stanch the flow of blood. Maybe it was the fall of her own blood that she heard echoing within the walls of this chamber.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
The pain she had felt so intensely burning throughout her body had long since subsided to a buzzing feeling. She felt it everywhere, not just her stomach where she was wounded terribly more so than the rest of her body. It was just there, underneath the surface of her skin, serving as a constant reminder of what curse she had been a victim of. How long ago had her last visit upstairs been? It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours, she was certain. It wouldn't be long until His followers would come barging in the cell and drag her up those narrow stone steps and into that suffocating abandoned inn where she would be interrogated. Though tortured was a far more fitting description of what had really been happening to her in the confinement of that stuffy, old room.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
They would be here any moment now.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
She would just have to wait, to hold on a little longer.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
But oh, she was so tired. Maybe if she could just close her eyes for a minute.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
Her eyelids fell and the world in front of her—really only the dreadful bars of the cell—started to fade.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
The sound of the water that had been falling, falling, falling started to fade alongside her vision. Her hand dropped from her wound and her eyes came to a full close. Her breathing was slow and steady, much the same as her mind. Her thoughts were quiet for the first time in a long time and… and she thought it was rather peaceful. It crossed her mind of course, that she could be weary from all of the blood loss, but she found that she didn't much care. Because maybe, just maybe she was okay with this. She had done the right thing even though it had landed her in an extremely precarious situation, but she had done the right thing. And wasn't that what The Order was about? About doing the right thing? It was just that she hadn't expected she would have to give her life for doing so. But that didn't matter, because soon she would be gone and she was okay with that. She had made peace…she just hoped he would forgive her.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
She didn't feel cold anymore.
Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.
She was ready.
Pit. Pat…
"Ellianna,"
The whisper of her name travelled silently through the air. Her eyes opened in an instant and she squinted to try and see any of her surroundings. The space where she thought the sound had originated from appeared vacant and she slowly shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. It would do her no good if she started imagining things now. She closed her eyes again.
"Ellianna," came the urgent whisper in a low voice once again. The sound startled her, and the little movement she made hurt every last inch of her body. She pushed her hair out of her face and carefully put her hand on the ground to try and sit up. It seemed as if a dark figure loomed just outside the cell.
That voice…it sounded familiar.
"Lumos." A sharp light filled the space which hurt her eyes, and she allowed herself a moment to adjust to it. Ellianna moved slowly towards the bars that held her confined. And when she looked up to meet the eyes of the stranger, her heart stopped… because this was no stranger. The familiarity of his face took her by surprise and when he spoke next it was louder and clearer:
"The Dark Lord has requested to see you."
A/N How interesting… is it not? I surely think so. Who could this stranger be? Maybe one of my own characters you will be introduced with or maybe someone we already know… who knows? I guess you will find out eventually. Hope this wasn't too confusing and that I successfully intrigued you.
Greetings, your beloved writer, Lady Whistledown (just kidding, I've been reading/watching too much Bridgerton lately. Forgive me.)