146A/N: I have gone over the entire story and re-written something that has been bothering me for quite some time. For those of you who have been with me for the duration of this story (and therefore do not wish to re-read the entire story) here is the key change this story now takes place 16 years after the end of 'A Twisted Sense of Fate.' This means that the twins and Blake are 16 (6th years) while Sara is 15 (a 5th year).
Although I do not know what the future holds for my fan fiction career, this chapter is the conclusion to the Twisted series.
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own anything Harry Potter affiliated. If I did, I would be sending this off to a publisher...not posting it online.
CHAPTER 22: A NEW DESTINY
The girl walked out from fire, dressed in a gown that seemed to be made of the fire she left in her wake. It moved, and gave off a heat and glow like flames. While her hair was always red, it was now more vibrant than any Weasley. Her arms and neck looked scarred, down the base of her throat to her shoulders, lightening at her wrists, marked with the impression of flames and feathers. The girl looked like a phoenix in human form, bearing the marks of her resurrection from the flame.
She saw the wreckage of the battle, the people around her injured and scarred. Her family watched her in terror. Was she their Maggie or something else, taking her form and leaving only the outer shell of an appearance.
The girl walked out from the fire and stood in front of James, eye to eye, and looked into his eyes. Her eyes reflected flames that had already withered, while his shown with tears. So much pain – the girl tilted her head to the side a bit, as if studying him.
James looked into her eyes, searching for her, desperately wanting this girl to be his sister. He watched her as she watched him, neither one quite sure what to make of the other. As the room watched on, they saw her raise her hand and brush away the tear that had escaped from his eye.
Yet, it wasn't Maggie. Her eyes were vacant – they seemed to look through everyone – until they landed on a small crowd of people in the corner of the room.
Maggie saw them out of the corner of her eye. Everything she had done or said while Voldemort was in control of her seemed like a distant past, a nightmare she had had. But the nightmare was real.
James turned his head to see that his sister was watching his aunt and uncle trying to help Sara, while Blake watched over her. Slowly, she glided to the two young wizards.
"What's wrong with her?" James asked, knowing that this was a result of what Maggie had done to her.
Blake looked up at him. "She's running a fever that no spell will cool, and won't wake up."
"A fever?" James asked, kneeling beside him.
Blake looked to him, "Your aunt and uncle tried casting cooling charms, but every time she would just heat back up. They stopped, because they were afraid of making her worse."
Maggie could feel the tears running down her face, and watched as one landed onto Sara's hand, splashing against her skin. James watched as she looked at her scarred arms, wondering if she could undo the damage that she caused Sara.
Quickly, Maggie bent low over Sara, and scooped her up. Holding her closely as she sat on the ground, Maggie pressed the side of her face against Sara's forehead and placed her free hand against her chest.
"What are you doing?" Blake yelled. "Haven't you caused enough damage, put her down!"
James put his arm out and stopped Blake from interfering. "Don't you get it? She's trying to help her."
"What could she possible do?"
"Blake, stop and think for a moment." Hermione said. "Maggie was a phoenix, flames and all. Maybe her tears aren't enough – it looks like she is trying to absorb the heat from Sara. Draw the fever out of her."
It was a few minutes before they noticed any change. Sara was breathing stronger, and after ten, she had regained her normal color. Maggie released her, passing Sara's sleeping body to Blake. But before she could see the gratitude in his eyes, or hear the praise for doing what their spells couldn't do, Maggie silently stood up, walked away from the group and when over to the small bassinet that her mother watched over.
Her sister slept quietly, but stirred as Maggie came near. Ginny watched as her daughter gently traced a finger down the infant's cheek, and then gave her the finger to hold in her tiny fist. Smiling, Maggie placed a small kiss on her sister's forehead and whispered, "It's nice to meet you Fiona Hope Potter."
Maggie's eyes flashed red as she removed her finger from the baby. Her mother was startled by the color change, but she was more shocked as Maggie, taking a step away from the cradle, collapsed onto the floor.
"HARRY!" Ginny yelled, kneeling at the girl's side.
Harry and James came rushing over, at her yell, "What happened?"
"She was fine a moment ago, mumbled something about hope, and then just fell to the ground," she said.
James smiled as his father picked up Maggie, and his mother picked up his youngest sister. For the first time since she had stepped from the flames, James could reach into his sister's thoughts, and James laughed.
"I don't see how this is funny, James!" His mother exclaimed.
"She's fine mom – just sleeping."
"How do you know?" Harry asked, looking down at Maggie's expressionless face.
James smiled again. In his mind, he could see the Hogwart's grounds drifting by beneath him, as if he were flying above them. "She's dreaming. I can see her dreams, hear her thoughts –"
Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. "What was she talking about before she collapsed?" Ginny asked, confused at having only heard the name from her daughter's lips.
Harry shrugged, but even without having his connection to his sister restored, James knew exactly who Hope was. He looked to the baby in his mother's arms, and said, "Fiona Hope Potter. I think that's a perfect name."
"Did your sister name the baby?" Harry asked, slightly confused.
"No," James replied, "I think she named herself."
Ginny shook her head, "It was bad enough that the two of you had such extreme powers as infants, now we've got a fire starter who thinks she has a right to pick her own name." Ginny played with the child's tiny fist. "What if I wanted to name you something else?"
James smiled at his mother. It seemed such a normal thing – a mother talking to her baby. Yet, things were still weird (his sister being unconscious for starters). "Think of it this way mum," James said, trying to shake off the bad feeling. "You probably won't have to ever try to guess what she wants."
"Well," Harry said to Ginny, "You can argue with her later over her name, right now I'd like to get Maggie over to the Hospital Wing. And, I think we're probably all due for a good night's rest."
'I know you're awake, Maggie,' James thought from his bed. 'I can hear you thinking.'
She smiled to herself. 'And, what dear brother am I thinking about?'
'You're afraid.'
'Of what?' she asked, painfully trying to remain still and not tip off the rest of the room that she was awake.
For the last half hour, Maggie had laid quiet and still. After all she had done, it was all she could do not to move. She didn't want the others to know she was awake—she didn't want them to be angry with her, although she deserved it. Maggie knew that for what she had done, what she had attempted, her family should turn their backs and never speak to her again.
She wanted to be out casted—but when she had awoken, reborn into her own body, her mother had embraced her. Her father thanked Merlin, and the rest of the family followed suit.
Only James had shunned her at first, because only he had seen through her eyes. With the help of their baby sister, only he truly knew how deep into her soul Lord Voldemort's evil had seeped when he possessed her as an infant. And when he returned, ten years later—only James had seen how easy it was for him to take hold.
But he had also remembered the good and had witnessed the lengths she would go to in order to protect the ones she loved. Part of her would always be tempted, but in her heart, she was good. Even when flooded with evil, in the end, she made the right choice.
'You're afraid of yourself,' he replied. 'You're afraid of the next great evil, because you're afraid that the phoenix will attract evil like moths to the flame.'
Maggie breathed heavily, and she could feel her mother sit up from her nearby chair and see if she had awoken yet. 'In the phoenix state, I could be dangerous—what if the next great evil gets control of that side of me as well? How do we fight then?'
James knew that deep within her lay the phoenix, dormant, waiting for the next evil to rise and attempt to offset the balance between good and evil. But he knew that the phoenix would not be swayed beyond the desire of her heart, and deep down, Maggie was an innocent girl. 'Side by side.'
"SARA!" Startled, Maggie sat up, alarming her mother in the process. The sudden outburst from the next bed over caused her to forget why she was pretending to sleep in the first place.
"Maggie!" her mother exclaimed.
However, all the shouting brought Madam Pomfrey out of her office in a hurry. Thinking that something was wrong, she bustled out into the room to find nothing wrong, just two girls sitting up in their beds.
"Well," she said, "as long as everyone's awake, I might as well check on how you all are healing." And with that she went over to Sara, who now had James and Blake at her side, promising Ginny that she would not forget to triple check Maggie's temperature (apparently, her mother thought that she was feeling a bit warm).
Beyond her mother's smothering, Maggie could see Blake's joy as his friend began to talk about the night before, and she could see the relief in James' face, knowing that Sara was going to be okay. But as much heat as she could generate, Maggie couldn't take the heat of the room – while the others would tell her it wasn't entirely her fault and forgive her, she knew that for the rest of her life she would still have to live with her actions, with the guilt of what she had done. Quicker than her mother could stop her, she fled the Hospital Wing and went outside, down to the edge of the lake.
It was cold outside, and the wind cut at her every chance it could – she didn't feel it. It wasn't her destiny to become the phoenix – it should have been her sister. But Voldemort twisted everything around.
All she could think about was the next battle – would she take another's life? Everyone would congratulate her for taking down the Dark Lord, but the truth was that she had killed a man. And, she wondered. Now that she knew that she could, would it be easier the next time?
She heard footsteps behind her, but didn't turn around.
"So, the Dark Lord is defeated, and the phoenix stands at the water's edge."
"Professor?" Maggie asked, turning to see Dumbledore standing behind her.
"That water is cold," he said, "but it will not cool you."
"I know," she said, returning her gaze back to the water. "Nothing will ever be able to cool me."
He did not pressure her to speak, nor did he reassure her that everything was going to be all right. He stood there quietly and let her imagine that she could feel the wind. After minutes of silence, she turned and looked to him.
"I tortured her," she said. "I could have just immobilized her, but I choose to torture her. I choose, it wasn't Voldemort telling me to do so, it was me. I wanted her to suffer for standing in my way, for trying to turn James against me. I wasn't under the influence of evil, I – I was jealous. Here I was believing that I was the most powerful girl in the wizarding world, and she came along and did what I couldn't do."
"What couldn't you do?"
"I couldn't keep James on my side – not that it's a bad thing, it worked out best in the end. But I couldn't influence him like she did. I've known him my entire life. I know his mind better than anyone ever could because I have always been a part of it, but in a fraction of that time Sara was able to learn his way of thinking and turn him." Maggie sighed. "I just don't know what to do anymore –"
"What is it that you want?"
Maggie looked up at him. "I don't know. Part of me wants to become the phoenix again, and do nothing but sing and fly. But the other part of me wants to forget it all, to have the entire year taken from my memory and replaced with thoughts of happier times." She looked down at her scarred arms. "But both would be a lie.
"I don't think that I was meant to be the phoenix, and I hope that I never have to use these powers again," she sighed. "But to pretend that these scars are merely burns and that I am a normal girl would be a bigger lie. I guess what I truly want is to be able to put it all behind me and move on.
"But there's an entire room full of people, my family and my friends, who will never really trust me again. In the back of their minds, they will always fear me, always remember the pain I caused them. And even if they can truly forgive me, I don't know if I will ever forgive myself."
Maggie sat alone on the floor of the Phoenix Tower. It had been weeks since she had fought Voldemort as the phoenix, and she had felt more alone than ever before. While she had regained her connection with James, it was not the same as before. It was no longer an open line, where their thought flowed freely, it was quieter – requiring a certain degree of concentration.
Since the battle, the wizarding world was buzzing. The students talked about it between classes, the papers featured her name in the headlines for weeks. Every morning owls brought hundreds of letters for her. Some wanted interviews, others autographs, and some just wanted to thank her.
But no one asked her what she desperately wished they would. Everyone pitied the girl who fought the Dark Lord and was left with such terrible scars, who baffled the greatest wizarding minds with her great feat of transfiguration.
Maggie Potter didn't join the Dark Lord, she journeyed behind enemy lines to break down defenses. She didn't lure her brother into joining her, but created an opportunity to work against Voldemort. Any actions that could possibly be considered dark magic were either for show or for a result of the Dark Lord's hold of her. No one would listen to what she was really saying.
Maggie wanted to stand before the world, before all of her adoring fans, and scream that she wasn't their hero. She wasn't a victim or a savior. Her scars weren't some tragic marker, like her father's scar. They were a constant reminder of her temptation, of the pain and suffering she almost inflicted on the world and that she had inflicted on her friends and family.
As she sat and watched the day's letters burn in the fireplace, she heard a knocking at the door. But, she didn't answer – and as it quietly slid open, she kept her gaze fixed on the blaze. The soft glow and the gentle heat soothed her.
'You can't hide forever,' James thought to her, softly placing a hand on her shoulder.
Maggie smiled. "I can never hide from you, James," she said. "You know everything about me, every thought, and every moment."
"Yet," he said, "I can't figure out why you would rather spend your time alone by the fire than with the rest of the house."
"You know why," she stated plainly.
James shook his head and knelt down in front of her, forcing her to move her eyes away from the flickering flames. "Eventually, everything will go back to normal – it already is! You'd see that if you would join us. People aren't pretending that you're the savior of the wizarding world anymore."
"And when will you stop pretending?" Maggie asked. "When will our entire family stop pretending that I didn't do horrible things? That I didn't join Voldemort and attempt to kidnap our sister and take over the world?
"The world hasn't outcasted me James, our family has," she said, standing and turning her back to him. "Every day that you all pretend that I'm the same girl I was when we got off that train, the farther outcasted I become."
Again, James moved in front of her. "What is so different about you Maggie?" he asked.
Spun around and walked to the fire. Without hesitating, she bent down and picked up one of the coals, grasping it tightly in her fist. Holding it out to him, she said, "Tell me that this isn't different! I used to be able to heal myself from burns, now I don't even burn. I absorb the heat."
"And if you couldn't have done that, I would be dead." Maggie turned again to find Sara and Blake in the doorway, hidden in the shadows. "You did horrible things while you were with the Dark Lord, but you did the right thing when it mattered."
"I tortured you," Maggie said, returning her gaze to the flames. "I tortured you to get to my own sister – to kill her."
"You didn't want to kill her," James said. "You wanted to take her."
Maggie shook her head, "And if I had succeeded –"
"If you had succeeded, the world as we know it would have ended!" Blake said, waving his hands in a flamboyant manner. "Stop being so dramatic. Voldemort was stopped quite a few times – we would have figured out a way to stop you, too."
"The point is that you didn't sacrifice your sister," Sara said. "You made the choice to fight against the Dark Lord in the end, and you defeated him. It wasn't easy – but apparently, it is easy to assume that we don't understand the turmoil you're going through.
"You think that I don't look at you and remember the look in your eyes as you were cursing me?" Sara asked. "I could have given up Fiona. I could have handed your sister to you, but I chose to stand up to. That was my choice."
For the first time since she had cursed Sara, Maggie looked her in the eye, but she did not see hatred. She saw the same girl she had met on the train, what seemed like years ago, her friend. And like many times before, Sara was right. She it wasn't just Maggie's actions that mattered that day, it was Sara's as well. She could have chosen to hand over Fiona, but she didn't.
"We all make our own choices," Sara said, hugging Maggie. "So stop cheapening my part in saving the world by making it out to be all your fault."
Maggie held on tightly, this time letting Sara heal her.
"So," James said after a few moments. "Who's up for a walk around the lake? It's supposed to be a beautiful night."
Maggie hesitated for a moment, but Blake answered for her. "Why don't you two go ahead," he said. "We'll catch up to you." James nodded, leading Sara by the hand down the stair entrance way.
She didn't know what to say, but she didn't have to think for long.
"I'm not mad at you Maggie," Blake said. "I don't blame you for the things happened, and I'm not going to hold anything against you."
"But –"
"No buts," Blake said. "You suffered just as much as anyone else in this situation. It wasn't you're fault that Voldemort played you."
"But-" Maggie tried again.
"No Maggie," Blake insisted. "You have to stop blaming yourself for everything that's happened. I'm not saying that some things weren't your fault. You made choices along the way, but in the end, you made the right choice. You've got to learn to accept that and move on. You've got to learn to forgive yourself."
Again, Maggie didn't know what to say. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and as Blake reached to brush one away, she lunged and hugged him. "Thank you," she said.
"For what?" he asked, holding her closely.
"For never fearing me, or telling me that none of the past weeks was my fault," she said as she released him. "You've always been honest with me. And, even when I've pushed everyone else away, you were there for me."
Slowly, Blake leaned in and kissed Maggie's forehead as he drew her in for another hug. "I will always be there for you," he said. "No matter what happens."
Ginny was taking her daily stroll around the castle grounds with Fiona when she saw them. James and Sara waved to her, as she got closer, calling to the approaching Blake and Maggie. She smiled to herself, and as she watched, things started moving in slow motion.
Blake took Maggie's hand and as they ran towards the other two under the tree next to the Black Lake, time fast-forwarded. In an instant, five years had passed
Everyone was dressed in their best robes, and people were applauding and shooting sparks into the air with their wands. From the crowd of people, two couples ran down the center isle, hand in hand, followed by a little girl who wanted to do everything her big sister did.
One of the older girls stopped, turned around and picked up the younger girl. Giving her a tight squeeze, she reassured the child with emerald and red eyes that she too would get to do this one day, and sent her back towards her waiting mother. Waving goodbye, the older girl turned towards the carriage where the other three waited: her new husband, her twin brother – they did everything together – and his new bride. As she turned, she stopped and looked directly at Ginny, and her eyes flashed red for a moment.
And just like that, she was gone.
Ginny was back in her own mind, watching her older children and their friends walk hand-in-hand, the same way the two couples from her vision did down the isle. Looking down at the baby in her arms, she realized that her newborn had shared another vision with her. Smiling, Ginny resumed her walk towards James, Sara, Blake and Maggie.
"I don't need to be psychic to know that's going to happen," Ginny said, playing with the infant's fist, "But let's not tell them it's going to happen. We wouldn't want to twist things around, now, would we?" She smiled as she started walking towards the group.
Thinking for a moment, Ginny whispered to Fiona, "We probably shouldn't tell your father, either."
A/N: Thank you to everyone who had read my fan fictions. I have enjoyed writing them more than you will probably ever know. Please submit reviews and let me know what you think of the story, especially of the ending and the re-write (for those of you who remember it the old way). Again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for being with me to the end!