Yo! I had an extremely long rant typed out (like a good ten paragraphs), but I decided I have a better way to say all this. If you aren't happy with the way I've taken a cliche idea and made it less cliche, because you want all the usual cliched shit in it that you also tell me off for including, then you can go fuck right off. Remus is Violet's godfather, Sirius is Rose's-there's been some confusion for some reason, despite it being stated pretty clearly in the first chapter. Unless I've shown them in a negative light, do not send me reviews/comments about how much you hate certain characters, because I most certainly do not agree and you're pissing me off, which makes me want to work even less on this fic-how would you feel if I spewed hate at the characters YOU like in your work? And the demands I'm getting when it comes to this fic are starting to get really fucking tiring. But of course, the people demanding things have their heads so far up their asses they won't be able to see this AN, will they? There, done in one paragraph. The rest of you have been very kind, so thank you!
No one could stop talking about Sirius Black as the days went by. Violet was not only tired of hearing about him, but rather annoyed too, because every single time she heard his name now it brought her a great amount of stress. Maybe that was what caused the sudden nightmares.
Barely a week after Halloween, Violet woke abruptly in the middle of the night. Breathless and shaking, she lay in bed, images of her most recent nightmare continuing to flash through her mind. Nightmares were a fairly normal occurrence for her-she'd been getting them since she'd been very young, though she didn't get them quite as often now that she went to Hogwarts. Either way, it'd been a while since she'd last had one this bad.
And now she couldn't go back to sleep. She tried, but she was beginning to feel kind of...claustrophobic staying in this room, even if the space wasn't very small-she knew it was because the nightmare had been about The Cupboard. She couldn't stay in here. Carefully moving Sauron (who basically only slept in her bed now) off her, Violet slid out of bed and made her way into the common room.
The room was empty, which wasn't surprising to her considering how late it was. With a deep sigh, already beginning to feel just a little better, Violet curled up in an armchair by the still lit fire…
Violet wasn't the only one awake at such a late hour. Severus too was woken suddenly, though it wasn't because of a nightmare. It was an alarm going off that woke the light sleeper out of a dead sleep. That wasn't odd, and was something that happened more often than it didn't, irritating though it was.
Each section of Slytherin's dorm rooms had certain warning spells placed on them. When a student of a particular gender and year left their room after midnight, an alarm corresponding to said gender and year would sound near him, alerting him to it. There was another spell triggered to inform him if a student left the common room after the late curfew as well. Severus was the one who'd had these implemented a number of years ago, when a fourth year Slytherin had managed to sneak out of the dungeons, up to the astronomy tower, and jump off it, killing herself. There was now a ward on the towers throughout the castle as well, all for the same reason.
And now this alarm that went off told him that a third year girl had left her room. He didn't react at first, giving her, whoever she was, a few minutes to return to bed. Perhaps she'd suddenly remembered something she had left behind in the common room or whatnot. Unlikely, considering the time, but certainly not unheard of. Still, he remained awake, laying in bed and waiting for the alarm to stop sounding, which would happen when the girl returned to her room.
But she never did. She didn't leave the common room fortunately, but she didn't return to bed either. Severus waited another five minutes and then scowled and got out of bed, grabbing his robes and pulling them on over his bed clothes. Using a hidden doorway that would lead him directly to Slytherin's common room, he stepped inside and looked around with narrowed eyes, trying to spot the wayward girl.
Potter? Surprised and a little confused, he moved forward, lowering down into the armchair across the girl, who hadn't even seemed to notice his presence, instead choosing to stare at her toes. "Miss Potter," he said finally.
She started, green eyes wide. "Oh! Professor Snape..."
"It is very late, Miss Potter. Why are you not in bed?" He saw the hesitation that crossed her face immediately, saw the way her arms tightened around her raised knees. "You have class in the morning," he chose to remind her.
She shrugged. "I know," she said quietly.
Severus gazed at her closely, considering his words. He had nothing against this girl, and appreciated that she at least had proper manners and cared for her education, unlike her clearly spoiled twin. But he found that it was still difficult to...conduct himself around her. He struggled to come to terms with how exactly he was supposed to treat her. "Are you having trouble sleeping?" he asked eventually.
He knew the answer to the question immediately-saw it in the way she lowered her eyes and tensed. "Is it being caused by nightmares?" And here, he waited. Even though he was sure he was correct, he decided to leave it to her to tell him. Nothing good would come out of forcing her to admit it. He knew that already. He'd gone through it personally.
There was a very long silence, Severus watching Potter stare at the toes she kept flexing as she debated with herself. This wasn't a rare situation for him to find himself in. It happened at the end of every September-often later in the year as well, a handful of the new first years always struggling to adjust. But sometimes it wasn't just the first years. Sometimes even the older students had problems-not just homesickness, but nightmares as well. The only reason this was strange was because it was Potter, and he'd never had a problem like this with her before.
"...Yes." The word was a whisper, barely audible, but in the silence of the room, Severus still managed to hear it clearly.
He didn't question it and instead inclined his head and got to his feet. "A moment, then." He left her where she was, returned to his rooms, and tracked down a particular potion vial, returning to Potter a minute later. "Take this."
Potter took the vial from him, looking at it in confusion, then tilting her head back to look up at him instead. "What's this, sir?"
"Dreamless Sleep. Take only a mouthful-any more and you will poison yourself. Do not take it more than twice a week. This potion is very easy to become addicted to. I trust that you are responsible enough to regulate the usage yourself?" He would still be keeping an eye on her for signs of addiction though, just in case.
She nodded. "Yes sir. Thank you, professor."
Severus inclined his head once more. "Get to bed now. I'll not be excusing you for being late in the morning."
Nodding again, Potter finally got up, the vial held close to her chest. "Good night, Professor Snape."
"Sleep well, Miss Potter." He watched her walk off, waited for her door to shut, and sighed deeply when the alarm only he could hear finally went silent. He didn't know what to think about this...
Literally the next afternoon though, Violet was rather surprised and caught off guard when she was suddenly summoned to McGonagall's office during lunch. But when she saw Rose inside as well, and the sombre expression on their professor's face, she had a feeling she understood what this was about.
And she was right.
Professor McGonagall attempted to warn them both about Sirius Black possibly coming after them, but she didn't get to elaborate very much before Rose cut her off, saying that she already knew about it. Violet cut in there to say she did too. McGonagall was surprised, and perhaps a little caught off guard at their knowledge, which Violet thought was kind of weird. Did she really think no one would have bothered telling them about any of this? Especially when they were the ones at the heart of this?
When she was dismissed (before her sister, because the professor had to talk to her about Quidditch or something like that), Violet left the office but had only gone down a single corridor, when-
"Luna? Ginny?"
"Oh, hello Violet."
"Hi, Violet!"
Approaching them, Violet smiled. "What are you guys doing?"
Both girls shrugged. "Just talking," said Ginny. "Why are you up here?"
Violet shrugged in return. "McGonagall wanted to speak to me."
"Are you in trouble?"
"No, nothing like that." Violet hesitated, wondering whether or not it would be alright to ask Ginny how she was doing after what she'd gone through the previous year. Was she just supposed to pretend it never happened? Or was it okay to bring those memories up again? And what about the bullying Luna had been going through? Had that stopped? Should she ask?
After a brief moment, she decided not to. She'd assured them both that she was there for them, so if they wanted to talk about these things, they could come to her first. It was probably better that way. "How are your classes going?" she asked them instead, prompting a cheerful and casual conversation...
After lunch, Violet walked into the Defence classroom, only to pause in place in the doorway. The professor standing at the desk wasn't Lupin, but rather, Snape. Huh... Making her way to her seat, Violet settled down beside Theodore.
"What's going on?" she asked him quietly. "Why's Snape here?"
"No idea," said Theodore. "He said he'd explain once everyone got here."
The explanation came out quickly enough, Snape informing them that Lupin was ill and unable to teach, and that he would be substituting for him until he was well enough again. The Slytherins didn't really mind. Lupin was a fine teacher, some of them liking him more than others, but they were hardly going to have to worry about Snape, as he was their Head of House. They had no problems here. The Ravenclaws they had the lesson with were a little more nervous, though they were smart enough to keep their unease to themselves.
Still, Violet frowned, actually somewhat worried about Lupin. She honestly wasn't surprised that he was sick-he always looked rather unwell. Did he have some sort of chronic illness, perhaps? That would explain why he was sick, and why he always looked so tired, and why he appeared older than he really was.
There had been a girl at her primary school-Fair, who'd suffered with some sort of chronic illness. She'd always looked tired and frail, and hadn't been allowed to run around and play like the rest of the kids. She'd been very kind and quiet too, though she and Violet hadn't spoken much (Fair had parents after all, unlike Violet, and everyone knew orphans were disgusting and stupid), but Lupin was kind of reminding her of this girl.
So yes, maybe it was a chronic illness. How bad was it though? How dangerous? Was this something that would kill him? ...And why was Professor Snape making them skip straight to the end of their textbooks so he could teach them about werewolves?
The next day was Saturday and the first Quidditch match of the season-what was supposed to have been Gryffindor versus Slytherin, but had been changed to Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff (because Malfoy was using his 'injured' arm as an excuse). That didn't really matter to Violet, honestly. Hell, it just gave her own House a better chance at winning the Cup later in the year.
The only thing that really surprised her about all this was that the match was actually happening despite the horrid weather. It was a very dark, gloomy, and chilly day, the rain pouring, the thunder clashing, and the lightning flashing. These were horrible conditions to walk in, let alone fly in and yet, apparently, the match was still going to take place.
How on earth was this safe? What if someone got struck by lightning? That could easily kill them! How the hell was the school not only allowed, but encouraged to do this!? Why did everyone lose their minds when sports became involved?
But even despite thinking this, Violet still ended up joining the other students out in the stands, situating herself on a bench in between Theodore and Malfoy. And then she looked out at the pitch and wondered why she had bothered to come out at all. Visibility out here was terrible.
Rose and Diggory were going to have a hard time finding and capturing the Snitch. Hell, Fred and George, along with whoever Hufflepuff's Beaters were, were going to have a harder time too. It was going to be difficult to see the Bludgers in this, let alone aim properly when hitting it at the opposing team. Even the Chasers were going to have some issues. It was going to be smarter for the three of them in the team to stick close together to keep the Quaffle between them.
Hopefully the Weasley twins would be careful. Violet didn't want to see them hurt. Secretly, she was quite fond of them. Rose was going to have some trouble though, especially when compared to Diggory. While a little bigger than Violet, Rose was still quite small. Diggory was not only two years older than her, but a fair bit larger too-his size was only going to be an advantage in this weather, what with all the wind.
...Was Rose going to remember to use a spell so her glasses would repel water? She was never going to be able to see otherwise, especially not something as small as the Snitch.
The crowd was still pretty excited as the match began, but that excitement began to fade a little as the match went on. It was cold out here. Cold and wet and windy and dangerous. But still the match went on. Gryffindor had a good lead, but Hufflepuff would still win if Diggory managed to get the Snitch soon.
And speaking of...
Just a moment later, Diggory shot off to the right side of the pitch. When Rose realized this, she followed suit, chasing after him, trying to urge her Nimbus on faster. But she didn't catch up.
She didn't catch up, because suddenly, a strange silence fell over the entire stadium, and the chill in the air worsened until Violet could feel it inside her-in her bones, until she went numb. She couldn't hear anything except her ears ringing. She couldn't feel anything except the numbing cold. She couldn't even see anything, her vision starting to go hazy.
Because of this, Violet didn't notice what was happening out on the pitch. She didn't see the dozens upon dozens of dementors that gathered on the Quidditch pitch. She didn't see the ones gliding up to her twin sister, didn't hear her cry of shock either. Instead, she heard something else.
There was a voice. A high, strangely familiar voice, pleading. "Not them, not them, please not them!"
And then there was another voice, this one lower, this one too oddly familiar. "Stand aside you silly girl, stand aside now."
"Not Rose, not Violet! Please, no, take me! Kill me instead-! Please, have mercy!" the first voice, the woman's voice, continued to plead.
Violet didn't notice Rose fall off her broom, only saved thanks to a spell that slowed her down. She didn't notice this because at the same moment her sister fell, Violet lost consciousness, shocking Theodore and Malfoy seated on either side of her, both of them just barely managing to catch her as she slumped over...
"Did Violet wake up yet?"
Fred glanced over his shoulder as his twin brother approached, and shook his head. "No," he said, looking back down at the still unconscious girl. "How's Rose?"
George came to a stop beside his brother, looking at Violet as well, his brow pinched in concern. "Just woke up. Diggory's talking to her."
Fred made a sound of understanding. "Guess he feels guilty he didn't notice what happened."
"Yeah, probably." George's frown only deepened. "I get why Rose passed out, but why did Violet? Those dementors weren't anywhere near her."
"Dunno," said Fred quietly. "Theodore and Malfoy said she went rigid and then just slumped over. Apparently, something similar happened to her on the train."
George sighed. "I get it's for Black and all, but letting dementors be here is such a stupid idea. I know Dumbledore's pissed off, but what's going to stop them from doing it again?"
"Dunno," said Fred again. "I don't think any spells or anything can stop that many of them. I guess they attacked because of the excitement from the match, but I think the only real solution would be to just cancel matches for the rest of the year."
"Wood's going to throw a fit if that happens though."
Fred laughed lightly. "Yeah, you're probably right."
There was a pause as the twins looked down at Violet who still hadn't even stirred. Would she really be okay? They couldn't help but worry. At least Rose was awake, but it was frustrating that Violet wasn't.
"We should go," said George after a long pause. "I can already hear mum scolding us for staying in wet clothes for this long."
Fred snickered, but agreed and with one last look at Violet, the twins turned and began making their way out of the hospital wing, leaving a trail of water and mud behind them and passing Theodore and Hermione as they made a beeline for Violet's bed.
Violet woke abruptly in what she quickly realized was the hospital wing. She was confused, but not exactly surprised to find herself here. She felt groggy and shaky and her entire body was aching. When she looked over, she found both Theodore and Hermione seated at her bedside, both of them speaking quietly. She turned her head and saw Fred and George just as they walked out of the wing. They must have just left her bedside, judging by the diagonal line they were walking in...and the muddy footprints they'd left behind.
But Violet quickly noticed that she wasn't the only one in bed here. Rose was too, a few beds away, Diggory sitting with her, the two of them also speaking quietly, the both of them still in their Quidditch robes, Rose's scarlet, Diggory's a bright yellow.
Violet shifted in bed, drawing the attention of her two friends, both of who seemed very relieved to see her awake-Hermione looked like she was close to tears. It didn't take them long to explain what exactly happened.
They told her about the dementors that had come onto the pitch, told her how Rose had fallen off her broom from at least fifty feet in the air, though she'd been saved thanks to a spell, and told her how Dumbledore had used another spell to get the dementors away. They told her how Diggory had gotten the Snitch and won the match, but hadn't noticed what happened until after, and had come to Rose to apologize-which was what they were probably talking about now. And Theodore told her how she'd passed out at the same moment her sister had fallen off her broom, and that Professor Snape had insisted she remain in the hospital wing because it was likely because of the dementors that she'd fainted.
Violet didn't know what to say in response to the slew of information, and only just managed to nod as she listened.
She was stuck in the infirmary all weekend.
Her friends returned to visit, including the Weasley twins and their younger sister, along with Neville and Luna as well, but with nothing to really do, Violet had a lot of time to think-too much time, perhaps.
Rose was allowed to leave long before she was because unlike her, her twin had only been unconscious for a minute or two, which was really rather weird, as Rose had been the one to be attacked by the dementors in the first place. She had to remind Theodore to make sure Sauron was fed. Rose sort of looked like she had a crush of Diggory, because she blushed around him a whole lot. Malfoy was being weirdly quiet, according to Theodore. Hermione made Theodore bring her her homework to do, despite the fact that she was stuck in a hospital bed. Fred and George were so concerned about her that it was actually kind of cute. She really hated this weakness she felt whenever dementors were around. That ceiling tile had a stain shaped like Australia. Professor Lupin seemed to only come to see her when she was sleeping, according to Hermione, though he never lingered when someone else showed up. She was really craving some treacle tart right now-anything but chocolate, which was very odd as she normally loved chocolate. She was pretty sure she'd heard her mum begging Voldemort not to kill her and Rose. That was kind of disturbing.
Voldemort had told her mum to stand aside. Why? Had he not meant to kill her? Had he not wanted to? Why had he then? Because she'd refused to move? Why not just stun her instead? Or immobilize her in a different way to get her to move? Even if their mum had lived, would things have even been any better? If she had lived, would Rose and Violet have still survived?
According to Dumbledore (or had it been Diary Tom?), their mum's love and sacrifice was what had saved them. So didn't that mean that if their mum had lived, they-the twins, wouldn't have? That's what that seemed to mean to Violet. And if that had happened, if their mum had survived instead of them, how would things have changed? How would the world here be now?
Violet really had no answer to any of this, and thinking about it was only succeeding in making her head hurt. But that didn't actually stop the thinking. Because now she was thinking about the Dark Lord.
She hadn't heard from him since the end of her first year, discounting the strange diary version of him from last year. He hadn't been upset with her or anything, but if that was the case, why hadn't he made any sort of contact with her? Was it because it was too dangerous? Was he worried someone would find out? Was he just in a strange position where he couldn't, even if he wanted to?
Violet frowned. Actually, that last thought there sort of made sense. Voldemort had been possessing Quirrell because he didn't have a body of his own since he'd been 'vanquished' all those years ago. But now Quirrell was dead, and the Dark Lord had escaped in a sort of...mist form. So what had he done? Possessed someone else? Or was he still moving around in that vapour form? Because if the latter was true, then that would obviously be why he hadn't been able to contact her. A person couldn't write a letter when they were just a mist!
Bizarrely enough, that actually made her feel a lot better.
Violet didn't realize that she was actually very close to the truth. The Dark Lord Voldemort had hardly forgotten her, but he truly was in no shape to make any sort of contact with her. As she was thinking, after leaving Quirrell's corpse behind he had travelled in a more...ghost-like, non-corporeal form, something that was nowhere near solid.
He'd escaped into the forest, possessing the bodies of various animals, small ones, mostly snakes, using them to travel. But these bodies were incapable of hosting him for very long, making him jump from body to body irritatingly often.
And as he travelled, he certainly did find himself thinking of Violet every now and again. She was young, of course, but intelligent, and her magic was...strange. When he'd been there during her first year, he'd thought more than once that her magic felt somewhat odd to him.
It was strong, yes, and at the same time, weak. It...alternated between the two, making it so she could master certain spells immediately, yet struggle with other spells that, in some cases, were even weaker. But at the same time, she hadn't been the only one whose magic was like that. Her twin's magic had been the same-stronger in some cases, weaker in others, and none of it had made any sense to him, still didn't, actually, regardless of how much he thought and debated on the topic.
But that had been a while ago. Had things changed now? Had their magic regulated since them? Was this even natural in the first place? Was it a simple imbalance in their magical cores? Or was there another reason behind it? It was difficult to say at this point. He hadn't been around either of them long enough to learn or discover an answer.
Voldemort was curious to learn about more than just Violet's magic though. There was much about her that piqued his curiosity. Perhaps he would have the chance to speak to her again. He wanted to see how she would grow, see how much smarter she could become, how much stronger. How much darker.
Because she had potential. More potential than she would know what to do with. More potential than he knew what to do with. More potential than even Dumbledore would know what to do with, he was sure.
But first, he needed to find a way to get out of this predicament. He needed a solid body-a human body, and not the body of some weak, incompetent wizard like Quirrell. He needed a stronger body than that, one that would be capable of properly containing his strong, dark magic without negative effects, a body that already contained a dark magical core.
He needed his old body back.
That's it for now. Unfortunately, I'm not doing any better. Things are probably ninety five percent worse than I let on. Skyrim's been fun though, not that I get to play often. But I made burritos for the first time and you know what?-they turned out pretty damn good. So yeah, looking forward to reviews! Laterz!