A/N The story takes place in the beginning of DH. The Trio is out on the hunt, but none of their bigger adventures (breaking into the Ministry, Gringotts, etc.) have happened yet. Furthermore, the story will be canon divergent, which should make sense, considering my OC.
Disclaimer: All of the Potterverse belongs to J. K. Rowling. I own nothing.
Summary: She was hunted for her blood, as she was the last descendant of an old and incredible powerful bloodline. She was the one to be prophesised to tip the scale of the war. Was she leading the Light or the Dark side to be victorious?
Chapter One – It Started
Resfeber (noun) The restless race of a traveller's heart before the journey begins; The tangled feeling of fear and excitement before a journey begins
Snarling I delivered another vicious kick at the punchbag.
"Stupid …", kick, "useless …", punch, "life altering…", kick, "bloody…!", KICK!
I was breathing heavy and took hold of the swinging punchbag. I grimaced. Trying to get all the frustration out of my system was not working. Usually a good sweaty session in the ring or working on my right hook helped me. Not today. Today my mind, body and magic was restless.
I leaned my head on the cool material of the punching bag and clenched my eyes closed. I couldn't remember the last time I had such a huge fight with my aunt. We had been yelling at each other and we'd said things we didn't mean. Squeezing my eyes even harder, I tried to hold my tears in. My unsettled magic made me feel itchy. I hated fighting with my aunt, but I couldn't help myself. I absolutely loathed that specific topic, even more because we couldn't let it go.
"Everything alright, love?" asked a familiar voice behind me.
"Sure", I lied badly. "Just the usual."
Letting go of the punchbag I turned around and looked at the face of Mike O'Bannion. I knew him as long as I could remember. He was a friend of my aunt, from before. My auntie trusted him, so I trusted him as well. Also, he was the only person around that knew the whole story and he has made it his life business to keep us safe. Which was another reason why I trusted him.
Mike turned on the spot and walked to his office. I rolled my eyes. I knew he wanted to talk to me. It seemed the training hall was too busy for him to talk about confidential stuff. It was a rather busy afternoon in the gym, which offered not only the usual workout equipment. You could also train martial arts with a few unregistered 'teachers' that liked to help out whoever needed assistance. For example an innocent looking girl like me. I sighed. I really didn't want to talk about the row with my aunt Sara. But it seemed that Mike did not only see himself as my mentor and trainer, but also as my confidant. I bloody hated it sometimes.
Grabbing my sports bag from one of the corners I followed Mike in his office and took a seat at his desk across from him. He handed me a bottle of water and looked at me expectantly.
"Well?"
"Well, we argued." I took a slip of the cool water. "About… it."
Mike waved his right hand in a distinctive manner and I felt a buzzing sensation. "You can talk freely."
"I just don't bloody believe in that stupid prophecy! In any of it!" I exploded. It seemed like I just waited for a moment to rant about it. "We all know that prophecies are just working because we make them self-fulfilling. We hear them, we believe in them, we act accordingly and set them in motion. And in the end we are the very factor that makes a prophecy reality." I took a calming breath. Or at least I tried it. It sounded more like I was chocking. "I just don't believe in it."
Mike narrowed his eyes at me. "Isn't it more that you don't want to believe it?"
I glared at him. "Same difference."
"Love, your family comes from a particularly line of strong seers. Every female in your family had that gift to some extent, you're the only exception." I snorted. Thank Merlin for that.
Mike continued as if I hadn't made a sound. "Every prophecy they foretold came true. Every single one. Regarding the current political climate in the British Wizarding World, maybe you should open up to the idea, that that specific prophecy is true as well?"
I looked at him, eyes full of worry. "I'm so concerned about the one about Aunt Sara. You know what it says. 'And the keeper will die for the child that cannot protect itself. And so the tides will turn. She, who is the last of her line, will have the ability to either end the war or destroy everything. The keeper will die. The last of her line will have the ability.' I don't want Sara to die. I don't want to be the last of my line. Maybe it's me who's going to die? Would be best for us all if Sara would be the last of us….", I mused.
I flinched when Mike hit the desk with his big hands. "Stop your self-pity!" he demanded roughly. "There is a war going on and we all knew that you had to participate in it sooner or later. I trained you as well as I could. You know how to hold yourself in a physical fight, you know how to duel und you are a damned good strategist!" His eyes softened. "We all knew it would come to this", he repeated. "We are prepared for it. Ask Sara. She would lay down her life for you. Just as you would for her. Maybe the prophecy is bullshit, maybe it's not. Stop fighting with your aunt about it. You flew under the radar as long as you could. It's really just a matter of time for you to do what you were destined to do."
I deadpanned. Destined to do, really Mike? I sighed again and let my head drop into my hands. It started to ache.
"Maybe…", I murmured. "I'm just…. kind of afraid."
"Nothing wrong with that," Mike grunted. "As long as it doesn't leave you frozen with fright."
Mike leaned forward and took my hand in his big calloused one. "Just forget the prophecy and keep vigilant, alright?"
I nodded.
He smiled at me and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Go home. Grab something to eat on the way and watch a movie with Sara. Say you're sorry. And everything will be alright."
I smiled at him, feeling a bit lighter than before. He could be so rough and hard and really, really mean when he was training me. But he had his soft spots. He was always there for me, no matter what. Standing up I gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Thanks," I said seriously. "I don't know what I would do without you. What we would do without you."
He waved me impatiently out of his office and just grunted as a reply. I grinned. He really was the best.
You know that unsettling feeling you get when you think something bad is going to happen? Just deep down in your guts, when you really don't have any particular reason to worry, but somehow you just know something's wrong?
After I left the Chinese takeaway restaurant and was about a block away from our flat, I heard the sirens and the yelling. And I felt it in my bones. The sheer anticipation of something bad coming your way.
So, I ran the last few yards to the apartment building my aunt and I lived in. And came to an abrupt stop. The take out fell from my limp hands. Right in front of our house where police cars and a few paramedics. Quite a crowd of bystanders was trying to get a look of what was happening. Feeling like I was in a trance I stumbled forward, squeezing through the crowd till I could see the scene.
The air left my lungs like I was punched right in my solar plexus. My aunt lay on the pavement, without injuries, but with unseeing eyes. Dead. Without a doubt. Probably the Killing Curse.
I tore my eyes away and looked in the direction of the sounds of a wailing child. There, a few yards away from my auntie, were my neighbours. Just the mother and her young child, the father was missing. I knew the mother, Lizzie, was a witch and her husband a Muggle. Which was exactly the reason why they went into hiding when the political situation in Wizarding London took a turn for the worse. Lizzie tried to calm her daughter. Emma, I remembered, five years old. Both looked to be in shock.
I felt detached from myself, trying to ignore the body of my dead aunt. What happened here? I scanned the crowd carefully. There, almost hidden in the mass of people, where three men in dark robes. Not really the current fashion style of muggles, I mused. Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath in I came to a decision. I couldn't leave Lizzie and Emma to the supposed Ministry workers. Who knew what they would do. And judging from the frightened look on Lizzies face, it was likely that she was scared for her Muggle husband and her daughter. Emma probably released some kind of accidental magic and the Ministry workers came for her. And just like I knew my auntie, she would have tried to stop them from taking the child from her 'filthy' parents; a witch mingling with a Muggle was treated as a Blood Traitor and couldn't be trusted with a child, so the Ministry said. So of course, my aunt would have to step in between. How it went so badly that she died, I really had no idea.
Glancing back to the body of my aunt, I straightened myself. 'The keeper will die for the child that cannot protect itself.' My aunt paid with her life to save sweet, young Emma. Anger made my hands shake and my jaw clench. You really couldn't ignore the irony of the situation. Me fighting with my aunt over just the same prophecy, which came real mere hours after. But not like we anticipated. It wasn't me that Sara died to protect.
Trying to remember my training and at the same time not listening to Mikes voice in my head - You really should leave and go to one of the safe houses, love - I started to transfigure my features a bit. I shortened my hair to chin length, to a dirty blonde and tanned my skin more. That was all I could do without using a wand. Determined I started to put my plan, to get the family to safety, in action.
Getting in motion, I was running across the street to Lizzie, yelling in a panicked voice, "Oh Lizzie, what happened to you? What happened here?"
Frightened she tried to take a step back, but I let my transfigured features flicker just a moment back to my normal face and hair before I became the blonde stranger again.
"Are you alright?!"
Understanding dawned in her eyes.
"Miss, you can't be here", one of the Police Officers tried to intervene. "You need to leave."
Before I could protest, Lizzie already spoke. "Please, she's a friend of mine. I need her." More tears poured over her cheeks.
The officer looked stern, but nodded nonetheless. "Try to calm them down", he murmured to me and walked away.
Lizzie turned my way "What are you doing here? You are a witch?" Looking panicked around the continued, "You know we are not alone here anymore. They know… you know…" she grimaced. "I don't know what to do", she sobbed, holding Emma even closer to her chest.
"'S alright" I tried to calm her and patted Emma's head. I was so bad with children. Crying children were even worse. "I can get you out of here. But you need to stay calm."
Lizzie nodded anxiously. "What do you need me to do?"
I rummaged in my sports bag for a pen and something to write onto, while I scanned the crowd for the three wizards. Finding an old receipt, I started to scribble on the back of it. The ministry workers were still in the crowd, suspiciously passive. They waited for something. Hopefully we wouldn't find out for what.
"Here, memorize it." I handed Lizzie the slip of paper. 'Safehouse Three of The Old may be found at number 8th, Ranston Street, London.'
"I want you to apparate your husband, your daughter and yourself to that address. After your husband read that little message, burn it. You stay at that house for as long as possible. Are you familiar with the Fidelius Charm?" Lizzie nodded with wide eyes.
"Good." I swallowed nervously and let my gaze sweep across the crowd again. Frowning I saw the ministry workers look all in the same direction. When I followed their gaze I saw two tall men making their way through the crowd. They looked extremely determined. That was not good.
Taking Lizzies hands in mine I looked deeply into her worried eyes. "We have to go, now. I try to come by in a few days but I don't know if I can. Just get out of here and get your family to safety."
"Thank you, thank you so much!" came the breathless response.
I squeezed her hand. "I want you to apparate on three."
"One…" I looked up and saw the two men directly in front of the crowd.
"Two…" They looked grimly in our direction. I caught their eyes and let go of Lizzie's hand.
"Three!" I nearly yelled as I got up and sprinted to the body to my aunt. The distinctive Plop sound of the Apparation filled me with relief.
Lizzie and Emma out of immediate danger: Check.
Hearing the surprised yells from the police officers and shouts from the crowd? No check for me for being out of danger.
Falling on my knees next to my aunt I tried to shove all my feelings away in a box. I would handle that all later. Now I needed to take care of myself.
Hearing the impact of running feed on pavement made my hands shaky when I grabbed the necklace around Sara's throat. As much as I wanted to take it off carefully, I just hadn't the time. Ripping it off, I acted purely on instinct as I threw myself forward, away from the grabbing hands just inches behind me. Twisting on my back I shot a weak wandless and nonverbal stunner at a man. It was one of the two men that just had appeared at the scene. My weak spell did nothing to stop him or even slow him down. When he flung himself at me again I bared my teeth and kicked out at him, catching him at the side of his face, near his mouth. With a shout he fell back.
Seeing my chance to get away I took one last look at Sara's unseeing eyes. I choked out a heavy "I'm sorry" as I concentrated on my destination and turned on the spot: Safehouse One of The Old.
Keep it together. You have things to do. Getting the getaway-bag with some money, important documents and my wand. My wand. Oh, how I missed it. When I touched it I felt overwhelmed. I hadn't felt that wand in my hand for years now. Having that kind of power back felt so right.
You can't fall apart just now. Checking the wards at the safe house. Renewing some safety measures.
Keep it together. Casting a Patronus for Mike, following the protocol that all three of us had established years ago. The message was easy enough: 'It started. I am safe. Get out of the country.' I knew that he would really leave, like we agreed on. Mike seemed tough, but he was too old to fight another war. Looking out for himself was the best decision for all of us.
Hang on. Getting under the shower to rinse the sweat away that still lingered from my boxing session earlier that day. That felt years ago. When I stood under the spray I let out a shaky breath.
You can let go now. A painful sob wrenched from my throat. I fell hard to my knees, screaming my pain into the world.
My aunt was dead.
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, the very same day
"I heard you messed up the mission?"
Mulciber snarled at the older Lestrange brother. "Just some Half-Blood. Nothing worth mentioning."
"Oh, really?" taunted Rabastan, "I heard you drew magical blood. Some Pureblood died? The Dark Lord won't be happy about that. And look at your face. Who left that little reminder behind?"
Mulciber turned around to leave. "We don't even know who that woman was. Or that girl that escaped. They are not important."
Continuing on his way Mulciber bared his teeth and touched the side of his mouth. His upper lip was split and a bruise started to form on the side of his face. That little bitch is going to pay.
Safe House One of The Old, London, Roughly two weeks later
It took me two days to get a hold of myself. It took me two days of crying, screaming and violently throwing stuff around to get a hold of myself. But now I knew what I wanted. Not revenge. Well, not really. I wanted them to pay, of course. But I also felt the need to actively participate in the war. Just like Mike said, I stayed passive for as long as possible. But no longer. I had a responsibility and I was ready. So after two days I started scheming.
The flat I stayed in was the Safe House with the heaviest security measures we had. It was in the centre of London, a generous six room apartment that we had for generations. It was modern furnished and had a huge study, which also functioned as a library. That specific Safe House had all the information that Mike attained over the years, with lots of help from Sara. The library was filled with files about the most powerful families in Wizarding Britain, contact information that Mike thought to be helpful, information that people would kill for, rare books, powerful artefacts, spare wands, weapons and so much more. In other words, it was the perfect place to start my scheming.
So I came up with a plan. I was well aware that 99.5% of my plans never worked. Nonetheless I had a plan and I knew where to start. Gringotts. There I would get access to my family vault. Which meant money, more important artefacts and rare books. In other words: power and knowledge. And I would be officially acknowledged to my family name. That was something I was not looking forward to, but it had to be done.
I started observing Diagon Alley. What kind of people went shopping, how the daily business went on, what safety measures were taken. And surprise, oh surprise, the Ministry had stationed Ministry workers right in front of Gringotts. They would probably complicate my little visit to the bank.
During my planning and observing, I visited Safe House Three to check on the Martin family. The little family was well enough, but still quite shaken. We had a long talk about blood prejudice, how to stay safe and future plans. It was not a happy talk, but one that we needed to have. We all decided that they should stay at the Safe House. The supplies would last a few weeks and then Lizzie could disguise herself and get some more. It was the safest way. I visited them a few more times. They really helped me to start to get over the death of Sara. I still couldn't believe that she was gone.
Roughly two weeks after the murder of my Aunt I stood in the bathroom of Safe House One and stared at the mirror. Bright blue eyes in a face that appeared too young, pale skin, and dark brown wavy hair that seemed almost black. No beauty, but pretty enough, if I could say so myself.
Raising my wand I traced the features of my face and altered the shape of my nose and lips. Just like two weeks ago I changed my hair colour, but today it would be a brownish-red. My skin could stay pale, but I added freckles. Looking at the mirror again I giggled sadly. It was so weird to look at your reflection and see someone else. Putting on unremarkable robes I finished my disguise.
Through The Leaky Cauldron I entered Diagon Alley. There I stood, halfway hidden in a back alley. Looking at Gringotts I set my face in a grim expression.
I knew that it wouldn't be easy to get to my vaults, but really? Why did the Ministry needed to station probably corrupt Ministry workers right in front of Gringotts? One deep breath in, one deep breath out. I had to get in there. I would get in there.