Another fan-fiction piece.
Wow, I'm doing more of these than I originally thought.
Anyhow. I have something original just tickling at the back of my head. Unfortunately, it's not doing much else, and I really should post in this journal more often, shouldn't I? So you get more of Ariana today (and a new icon to go with it).
The Usual Notes:
1) This scene could be considered disturbing. It is what some consider "darkfic," including torture and some madness. Consider this your official warning.
2) For sequence: this takes place near the end of book 5 (Order of the Phoenix). It clarifies some of the relationships I've established for Ariana.
3) Just FYI: SoS approximately means "mother" in Klingon. Thank Marc Okrand and Star Trek for that one.
4) As stated before, the only original character in this scene is Ariana. All other settings, names, characters, etc. are the exclusive property of J.K. Rowling and her designated representatives. This is fan-fiction and not for publishing or profit.
On to it, then.
***************************************************************
“Stay where you are!” Dumbledore shouted. Confused, he stared at the headmaster, who sounded frightened for the first time, though he could not imagine why.
He heard Ariana scream once before he felt the twist in his own mind as his scar exploded in agony. The Ministry was gone; all he knew was that he was trapped, bound by a creature with burning red eyes, held so tightly that he could not tell where he ended and the creature began. All he knew was pain, pain so torturous he would die from it, pain so intense he could not escape it.
That dry, cruel voice spoke, and it was Harry’s mouth that ground painfully into motion.
“Kill me now, Dumbledore. If death is nothing, kill the boy.”
Harry could just see Dumbledore hesitate through the red haze of his vision. A cruel chuckle left him, and he felt his body twist along with his mind, even as he fought against it. “You have lost, old man. I have him, and you can do nothing. Is this what your precious love does? Paralyzes you in the moment that you most need to act?”
Tears ran down his cheeks as he weakened, still fighting against the possession that clawed at his brain. Images flashed before his mind - the Mirror of Erised, with Voldemort staring back at him; Cedric falling, dying… his friends, wounded and fighting for their lives. His entire being screamed out against Voldemort, against what he was doing, against what he had done. Yet his dying mind wailed out for an end. Let the pain stop… Let him kill us… End it, Dumbledore… Death is nothing compared to this…
And I’ll see Sirius again…
Yet as his longing for Sirius flooded him, another face swam before his eyes. Green met green, and he felt a burst of love so strong that he though he might weep through the pain - weep for joy, for longing and loss. More images followed: of Ron and Hermione laughing; Lupin and Sirius embracing him; Fred and George’s fireworks. But I cannot…
Suddenly it was gone. The pressure disappeared; his scar throbbed but did not burn. He could breathe again, move independently again, and he gasped for air as he lay twisted on the floor, his glasses just inches from his fingers. But something in him hummed in terror; even as he replaced his glasses and looked around, something was still very wrong…
Another scream woke him from his relief. Dumbledore spun, having been so intent upon Harry that he had forgotten another vulnerable target. Harry yelled as the tear he still wore seared his skin, his shout combining with another shriek of fury and anguish.
Again Dumbledore stood helpless as Voldemort attacked Ariana, this time wrapping himself around her and glaring at the old wizard through mad, triumphant red eyes. One hand grasped her tightly around the shoulders as the other dug his wand into her side, but Harry knew - all he had to do was touch her and she would be in agony. Harry’s weakness was hers, and he berated himself for his foolishness, for allowing her to be so near so often. How could he protect her when everything that hurt him made her vulnerable?
She was panting now, even trembling, eyes tightly closed, her teeth clenched and bared in the last vestiges of whatever pain he had put her through. A cruel smile spread slowly across Voldemort’s face as he watched them stand helplessly, not daring to curse him for fear of striking her.
“So we are again at a stalemate. Tell me, Albus, how do you plan to win this time? And you, Harry Potter… tell me how it feels to see this woman in such a predicament. This seems… so familiar, doesn’t it? Like something that has happened before - ah, yes, because it has.” His gaze was leveled at Harry, who fumed helplessly. “She has time and time again put herself in my path, blocking you from me until her strength gives out. She puts herself in these situations to save you. To protect you. All because of you, Harry, and you can’t protect her.”
“Quit scrabbling at my brain, you slimy -” Ariana began to growl through gritted teeth, twisting her shoulders to try to loosen his grip. Voldemort flicked his wand almost aimlessly.
A resounding SNAP filled the air as he shattered both of her knees.
“No!” Harry shouted angrily as she yelped and began to fall. The wizard holding her adjusted his grip, yanking her back up, though her legs would no longer support her. Unable to help herself, she let out a strangled whimper, forcing her hands to stay at her sides and not grab onto the arm supporting her. She knew that only more pain waited if she touched him directly.
Harry seethed, his fists clenched so tightly his wand creaked in his hand. The green eyes snapped in fury as his legs ached in sympathy. Voldemort’s grin widened as he watched the boy.
“Yes, it makes you angry, doesn’t it, Harry? I can see it. I can feel it. I know you feel the ghost of her pain. I know the rage you feel when you see her hurt. It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? It makes that glowing spark in your mind flare out; it makes you want to give in and just let everything burst until I am dead and the anger is gone. Why not let it go, Harry? It would make things so much easier, make this so much quicker. It would all be over and she would be safe.”
The red haze swam before Harry’s eyes again, and he shook his head to clear it. Something gnawed at him, a realization that he only needed to let simmer for a moment longer. If he could just think, just keep his head clear for that moment…
His eyes locked on Ariana’s; furious green met agonized green, and despite the risks, he whispered to her wordlessly.
What is he doing, SoS? He’s baiting me, blocking me, stalling. Why?
“I’m stalling for nothing, Potter,” came the cold snap. “You and the old fool beside you can do nothing while I have her; you don’t dare, lest she go with me.” The glittering eyes were keen. “What is she to you, Potter, that you hold her in this high regard, that you fight so hard to protect her? This word you use when you think of her… this endearment…”
NO! shouted Ariana’s voice in Harry’s mind. He could feel a shove against his thoughts, pushing down what Voldemort was tempting up. Feeling her in his mind strengthened his resolve; he took over, pushing her back out without following - and something snapped into place.
He couldn’t get into her mind.
She had said herself he was “scrabbling at” her. That was why he had her restrained so crudely; without access to her mind, he could not possess her. He had turned his attention back to Harry’s mind, and now he could finally feel a ghosting against the paths that he used to reach her. He slammed down, a spark of green fire appearing at his fists in his anger. No, he thought. You will not!
He could see the dark wizard’s expression twist, but Ariana’s face was triumphant through the pain. Dumbledore looked from one to the other, his blue eyes twinkling briefly.
“Now who has lost?” Ariana croaked. “You cannot reach my mind by attacking me directly. You cannot reach it by going through Harry.”
“But I can still break you,” he hissed. “And as long as I have you, they are helpless to attack me.”
Again her eyes met Harry’s; through the pain there was determination. There was acceptance. Dumbledore saw too, and moreover understood, but this was not his decision to make.
Harry froze, also understanding what he saw. He couldn’t comprehend it. He couldn’t imagine it. No, he whispered in his mind. No, I can’t…
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t? What can you not do, Potter? What is this horror I feel in you?”
Harry ignored him, still staring at Ariana, unable to do what her eyes told him to.
In that moment, his mind slipped, and she was not there to catch it.
The light that shone in Voldemort’s eyes was brutally victorious. “Mother?” he whispered. His eyes flicked from the woman in his clutches to the boy before him, finally landing on a silent Dumbledore. “Did you know, Albus? Did you realize your precious hero had found a mother for himself? I should have known… you fashioned a whole new family for yourself, Potter! The fool Black as your father; and this one… this one, who loved him too, didn’t you?” He directed the question at Ariana, whose eyes snapped as he spoke of Sirius. “You loved Black. That is why you chased Bella; that is why your eyes scream now. Oh, you weaken, Dracul, I start to see…”
He was whispering in her ear now, infinitely close, nearly touching her. His eyes remained on the boy and his headmaster, gleefully taking in their continuing hesitation as he murmured into her ear.
“Yes, I can feel your defenses weakening. The pain does tear at you, does it not? The anger? The loss of one you loved; the agony of the surrogate son standing before you as you lay powerless in my grasp. Yes, I have felt this righteous anger before and did not know where it came from. Now I know it is you…”
Voldemort raised his wand, trailing it along her cheek. Harry clenched his fists, still unable to do what he knew was the only option. Holding his wand to her temple, Voldemort bared his teeth in triumph.
“You’re mine,” he hissed. “Legilimens!”
“Incendio!” Harry screamed, falling to his knees in tears.
The fire spell roared ahead, augmented by the spark of power in his mind and his desperation. He knew Ariana well, knew that physical violation - even death - was preferable to an invasion of her mind. He had already betrayed her by letting his mind slip; she would never forgive him if he allowed Voldemort to breach her thoughts. That was worse than knowing he would never forgive himself for what he had just done.
Dumbledore flew to Harry’s side, his eyes locked on the path of the spell. When it cleared, Voldemort glared across at both of them, untouched, but Ariana was nowhere to be found. Harry felt drained, his eyes burning with rage and tears. It had not worked. He had killed her for no reason.
“Damn you,” he snarled at Voldemort, ignoring the hand Dumbledore placed on his shoulder.
“Damn yourself,” Voldemort sneered back. He raised his wand, taking in exhausted teen and embattled headmaster. “Have you the strength to protect him now, Dumbledore?”
“CRUCIO!”
Voldemort moved just in time, flying across the room away from Harry and Dumbledore as the curse crashed into the wall behind him. Not daring to seek the source, Dumbledore moved in the opposite direction, putting further distance between the Dark Lord and the exhausted Harry. Only then did they all look up.
Bloody, broken, and enraged beyond imagining, Ariana lay sprawled on the floor, some ten feet from where Voldemort had been. Her wand was out, and green-white fire spit intermittently from her fingers. Most dangerously of all, her eyes had changed; the tinge of yellow Harry had seen before had enveloped the green, glowing against her dark face as she snarled, revealing lengthened teeth. Those eyes locked onto Voldemort as she pulled herself up on one arm, pointing her wand steadily at the Dark Lord.
“You…” she snarled, panting with emotion. “I have met you before, in another life. You are the bloodthirsty god of a treacherous Tisroc; you are the horned sorcerer; you are the mad emperor mage. I have stood by helplessly while four of my flesh were torn from me. I will not let you take my child from me again.”
“What is this foolishness you speak of?” scoffed Voldemort. Harry and Dumbledore stared between the two.
An insane smile lit Ariana’s battered face as her voice lowered to a threatening hiss. “I have defeated you before. I have killed you before. I have wreaked vengeance upon those you sent, those who did your dirty work, making them into indistinguishable flesh before I finally gave in to their pleas for death.” She began to crawl forward with her one arm, a hungry agitation in her eyes as the sparks sizzled about her outstretched wand. “I will enjoy doing the same to you.”
She raised her wand.
A sudden WOOSH distracted them all; witches and wizards were piling out of the green flames now filling the fireplaces that lined the atrium. The pack of mages who were now filling the atrium stopped short at what they saw.
Faster than time, Voldemort disappeared, briefly reappearing beside the still-trapped Bellatrix and Disapparating with her in tow. Ariana’s attention came back too late, and she howled a curse into the empty space where they had been. It landed on the statue of the witch with a CRACK, but they were gone.
Anyhow. I have something original just tickling at the back of my head. Unfortunately, it's not doing much else, and I really should post in this journal more often, shouldn't I? So you get more of Ariana today (and a new icon to go with it).
The Usual Notes:
1) This scene could be considered disturbing. It is what some consider "darkfic," including torture and some madness. Consider this your official warning.
2) For sequence: this takes place near the end of book 5 (Order of the Phoenix). It clarifies some of the relationships I've established for Ariana.
3) Just FYI: SoS approximately means "mother" in Klingon. Thank Marc Okrand and Star Trek for that one.
4) As stated before, the only original character in this scene is Ariana. All other settings, names, characters, etc. are the exclusive property of J.K. Rowling and her designated representatives. This is fan-fiction and not for publishing or profit.
On to it, then.
***************************************************************
“Stay where you are!” Dumbledore shouted. Confused, he stared at the headmaster, who sounded frightened for the first time, though he could not imagine why.
He heard Ariana scream once before he felt the twist in his own mind as his scar exploded in agony. The Ministry was gone; all he knew was that he was trapped, bound by a creature with burning red eyes, held so tightly that he could not tell where he ended and the creature began. All he knew was pain, pain so torturous he would die from it, pain so intense he could not escape it.
That dry, cruel voice spoke, and it was Harry’s mouth that ground painfully into motion.
“Kill me now, Dumbledore. If death is nothing, kill the boy.”
Harry could just see Dumbledore hesitate through the red haze of his vision. A cruel chuckle left him, and he felt his body twist along with his mind, even as he fought against it. “You have lost, old man. I have him, and you can do nothing. Is this what your precious love does? Paralyzes you in the moment that you most need to act?”
Tears ran down his cheeks as he weakened, still fighting against the possession that clawed at his brain. Images flashed before his mind - the Mirror of Erised, with Voldemort staring back at him; Cedric falling, dying… his friends, wounded and fighting for their lives. His entire being screamed out against Voldemort, against what he was doing, against what he had done. Yet his dying mind wailed out for an end. Let the pain stop… Let him kill us… End it, Dumbledore… Death is nothing compared to this…
And I’ll see Sirius again…
Yet as his longing for Sirius flooded him, another face swam before his eyes. Green met green, and he felt a burst of love so strong that he though he might weep through the pain - weep for joy, for longing and loss. More images followed: of Ron and Hermione laughing; Lupin and Sirius embracing him; Fred and George’s fireworks. But I cannot…
Suddenly it was gone. The pressure disappeared; his scar throbbed but did not burn. He could breathe again, move independently again, and he gasped for air as he lay twisted on the floor, his glasses just inches from his fingers. But something in him hummed in terror; even as he replaced his glasses and looked around, something was still very wrong…
Another scream woke him from his relief. Dumbledore spun, having been so intent upon Harry that he had forgotten another vulnerable target. Harry yelled as the tear he still wore seared his skin, his shout combining with another shriek of fury and anguish.
Again Dumbledore stood helpless as Voldemort attacked Ariana, this time wrapping himself around her and glaring at the old wizard through mad, triumphant red eyes. One hand grasped her tightly around the shoulders as the other dug his wand into her side, but Harry knew - all he had to do was touch her and she would be in agony. Harry’s weakness was hers, and he berated himself for his foolishness, for allowing her to be so near so often. How could he protect her when everything that hurt him made her vulnerable?
She was panting now, even trembling, eyes tightly closed, her teeth clenched and bared in the last vestiges of whatever pain he had put her through. A cruel smile spread slowly across Voldemort’s face as he watched them stand helplessly, not daring to curse him for fear of striking her.
“So we are again at a stalemate. Tell me, Albus, how do you plan to win this time? And you, Harry Potter… tell me how it feels to see this woman in such a predicament. This seems… so familiar, doesn’t it? Like something that has happened before - ah, yes, because it has.” His gaze was leveled at Harry, who fumed helplessly. “She has time and time again put herself in my path, blocking you from me until her strength gives out. She puts herself in these situations to save you. To protect you. All because of you, Harry, and you can’t protect her.”
“Quit scrabbling at my brain, you slimy -” Ariana began to growl through gritted teeth, twisting her shoulders to try to loosen his grip. Voldemort flicked his wand almost aimlessly.
A resounding SNAP filled the air as he shattered both of her knees.
“No!” Harry shouted angrily as she yelped and began to fall. The wizard holding her adjusted his grip, yanking her back up, though her legs would no longer support her. Unable to help herself, she let out a strangled whimper, forcing her hands to stay at her sides and not grab onto the arm supporting her. She knew that only more pain waited if she touched him directly.
Harry seethed, his fists clenched so tightly his wand creaked in his hand. The green eyes snapped in fury as his legs ached in sympathy. Voldemort’s grin widened as he watched the boy.
“Yes, it makes you angry, doesn’t it, Harry? I can see it. I can feel it. I know you feel the ghost of her pain. I know the rage you feel when you see her hurt. It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? It makes that glowing spark in your mind flare out; it makes you want to give in and just let everything burst until I am dead and the anger is gone. Why not let it go, Harry? It would make things so much easier, make this so much quicker. It would all be over and she would be safe.”
The red haze swam before Harry’s eyes again, and he shook his head to clear it. Something gnawed at him, a realization that he only needed to let simmer for a moment longer. If he could just think, just keep his head clear for that moment…
His eyes locked on Ariana’s; furious green met agonized green, and despite the risks, he whispered to her wordlessly.
What is he doing, SoS? He’s baiting me, blocking me, stalling. Why?
“I’m stalling for nothing, Potter,” came the cold snap. “You and the old fool beside you can do nothing while I have her; you don’t dare, lest she go with me.” The glittering eyes were keen. “What is she to you, Potter, that you hold her in this high regard, that you fight so hard to protect her? This word you use when you think of her… this endearment…”
NO! shouted Ariana’s voice in Harry’s mind. He could feel a shove against his thoughts, pushing down what Voldemort was tempting up. Feeling her in his mind strengthened his resolve; he took over, pushing her back out without following - and something snapped into place.
He couldn’t get into her mind.
She had said herself he was “scrabbling at” her. That was why he had her restrained so crudely; without access to her mind, he could not possess her. He had turned his attention back to Harry’s mind, and now he could finally feel a ghosting against the paths that he used to reach her. He slammed down, a spark of green fire appearing at his fists in his anger. No, he thought. You will not!
He could see the dark wizard’s expression twist, but Ariana’s face was triumphant through the pain. Dumbledore looked from one to the other, his blue eyes twinkling briefly.
“Now who has lost?” Ariana croaked. “You cannot reach my mind by attacking me directly. You cannot reach it by going through Harry.”
“But I can still break you,” he hissed. “And as long as I have you, they are helpless to attack me.”
Again her eyes met Harry’s; through the pain there was determination. There was acceptance. Dumbledore saw too, and moreover understood, but this was not his decision to make.
Harry froze, also understanding what he saw. He couldn’t comprehend it. He couldn’t imagine it. No, he whispered in his mind. No, I can’t…
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t? What can you not do, Potter? What is this horror I feel in you?”
Harry ignored him, still staring at Ariana, unable to do what her eyes told him to.
In that moment, his mind slipped, and she was not there to catch it.
The light that shone in Voldemort’s eyes was brutally victorious. “Mother?” he whispered. His eyes flicked from the woman in his clutches to the boy before him, finally landing on a silent Dumbledore. “Did you know, Albus? Did you realize your precious hero had found a mother for himself? I should have known… you fashioned a whole new family for yourself, Potter! The fool Black as your father; and this one… this one, who loved him too, didn’t you?” He directed the question at Ariana, whose eyes snapped as he spoke of Sirius. “You loved Black. That is why you chased Bella; that is why your eyes scream now. Oh, you weaken, Dracul, I start to see…”
He was whispering in her ear now, infinitely close, nearly touching her. His eyes remained on the boy and his headmaster, gleefully taking in their continuing hesitation as he murmured into her ear.
“Yes, I can feel your defenses weakening. The pain does tear at you, does it not? The anger? The loss of one you loved; the agony of the surrogate son standing before you as you lay powerless in my grasp. Yes, I have felt this righteous anger before and did not know where it came from. Now I know it is you…”
Voldemort raised his wand, trailing it along her cheek. Harry clenched his fists, still unable to do what he knew was the only option. Holding his wand to her temple, Voldemort bared his teeth in triumph.
“You’re mine,” he hissed. “Legilimens!”
“Incendio!” Harry screamed, falling to his knees in tears.
The fire spell roared ahead, augmented by the spark of power in his mind and his desperation. He knew Ariana well, knew that physical violation - even death - was preferable to an invasion of her mind. He had already betrayed her by letting his mind slip; she would never forgive him if he allowed Voldemort to breach her thoughts. That was worse than knowing he would never forgive himself for what he had just done.
Dumbledore flew to Harry’s side, his eyes locked on the path of the spell. When it cleared, Voldemort glared across at both of them, untouched, but Ariana was nowhere to be found. Harry felt drained, his eyes burning with rage and tears. It had not worked. He had killed her for no reason.
“Damn you,” he snarled at Voldemort, ignoring the hand Dumbledore placed on his shoulder.
“Damn yourself,” Voldemort sneered back. He raised his wand, taking in exhausted teen and embattled headmaster. “Have you the strength to protect him now, Dumbledore?”
“CRUCIO!”
Voldemort moved just in time, flying across the room away from Harry and Dumbledore as the curse crashed into the wall behind him. Not daring to seek the source, Dumbledore moved in the opposite direction, putting further distance between the Dark Lord and the exhausted Harry. Only then did they all look up.
Bloody, broken, and enraged beyond imagining, Ariana lay sprawled on the floor, some ten feet from where Voldemort had been. Her wand was out, and green-white fire spit intermittently from her fingers. Most dangerously of all, her eyes had changed; the tinge of yellow Harry had seen before had enveloped the green, glowing against her dark face as she snarled, revealing lengthened teeth. Those eyes locked onto Voldemort as she pulled herself up on one arm, pointing her wand steadily at the Dark Lord.
“You…” she snarled, panting with emotion. “I have met you before, in another life. You are the bloodthirsty god of a treacherous Tisroc; you are the horned sorcerer; you are the mad emperor mage. I have stood by helplessly while four of my flesh were torn from me. I will not let you take my child from me again.”
“What is this foolishness you speak of?” scoffed Voldemort. Harry and Dumbledore stared between the two.
An insane smile lit Ariana’s battered face as her voice lowered to a threatening hiss. “I have defeated you before. I have killed you before. I have wreaked vengeance upon those you sent, those who did your dirty work, making them into indistinguishable flesh before I finally gave in to their pleas for death.” She began to crawl forward with her one arm, a hungry agitation in her eyes as the sparks sizzled about her outstretched wand. “I will enjoy doing the same to you.”
She raised her wand.
A sudden WOOSH distracted them all; witches and wizards were piling out of the green flames now filling the fireplaces that lined the atrium. The pack of mages who were now filling the atrium stopped short at what they saw.
Faster than time, Voldemort disappeared, briefly reappearing beside the still-trapped Bellatrix and Disapparating with her in tow. Ariana’s attention came back too late, and she howled a curse into the empty space where they had been. It landed on the statue of the witch with a CRACK, but they were gone.