Isn't a beautiful image?
Yeah, I don't have one. But the next one will be epic. Y'know, once I a) figure out what it is, and b) make it. But I promise!
WARNING: Talk of abusive relationships ahead. Please read with caution.
“Well,” She began, periodically glancing at Callie, “First thing you should know is that we are having a Weasley/Potter Family Lunch in three days.”
“I’m coming,” I said immediately.
“Um. That might not work. The second thing you should know is that the father of your child,” I snorted at her obvious reluctance to say his name, “Is engaged to Lily Potter.”
“Our Lily?!” I demanded furiously.
“No one approves of the relationship,” She said, smiling sadly, “We’d all rooted for the two of you to get together before you left. But no one says anything to the couple because Lily’s always been too sensitive, unable to handle any sort of pain, physical or emotional.”
"He’s not right for her,” I couldn’t help but mutter, “When he’s angry, it’s terrifying.”
“I know that too,” Lucy said, “Lily ignores it, covers up her hurt, her pain. She says he loves her.”
“The Dark Mark,” I said, “The dark magic in it, everyone who has one has gone insane. I was trying to find a cure for it before I left. It can be passed down genetically.”
Again, Lucy glanced at Callie.
“Yes, she’s got some of it,” I murmured, “You can tell sometimes, she’ll get super angry for the littlest things. It’s one of her quirks. She’s unbelievably powerful, sets fire to things in fury. But she calms down fast. So much easier than he did. She’s not at all violent. She’s got my calming nature as well. It’s just her magic that reacts.”
“Rose,” Lucy asked almost hesitantly, “Did he hurt you? When you were dating?”
Looking away, I whispered firmly, “The magic that is in the marks, it just completely takes over the mind. He doesn’t even remember it when the rage ends. He nearly collapses after the use of the raw magic that the Dark Magic takes control of.”
“Rose,” Lucy said, stronger this time, “You didn’t answer the question.”
“Not often,” I continued to whisper, pulling my arms over my shoulders, hugging myself, “I usually fought back with him. They were almost always verbal fights. And it’s not like I can’t hold my own. I used to hit him back. Just like when we were little and he'd irritate me too far and I'd break his nose.”
“You have scars.”
It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t answer it.
I knew she’d take the silence as a yes.
“Lily can’t handle that,” I said.
“Which is why no one approves of the relationship. You told them about the Dark Marks, at least a little bit. They know that he can’t control it, so they don’t bother him about it. But they also know that you are unbelievably good at calming him down. And that both of you are naturally fire-tempered anyway, and argued a lot.”
I looked away.
He was with Lily.
The words stung me like a thousand knifes in my heart.
“Continue,” I muttered.
“Two days after you left,” She began, talking softly so as to not wake Callie, “Rodolphus Lestrange broke out of Azkaban. Ever since then, more and more of them have been breaking out. One by one, all with the same purpose.
“The Aurors, they worked for days straight, trying desperately to capture at least one of the breakouts, knowing that it would let everyone relax just that tiny bit. They were exhausted, mentally and physically.
“And then, last year, on the anniversary of your disappearance, there seemed to be enough of them broken out. Two hundred fifty nine out of three hundred eight Aurors were killed.
“Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron being two of them.”
She stopped, her eyes filling up with tears.
“Molly being another.”
I let out a breath of air. Those weren’t the only ones we knew who had died, I was sure of it.
Quickly, Lucy composed herself. “People began looking for someone to blame, just to keep themselves sane at the sudden loss. You popped up in everyone’s mind and were named Undesirable Number One, the Wizarding World was told that you helped with every single break out, and lead the Auror Massacre.
“And then, the Ministry stopped blaming you suddenly. They seemed to realize that you wouldn’t be able to kill your family members, any of them. And so they created the story that you were killed. There was a massive funeral, nearly as big as the huge Memorial Service for the Aurors. Nearly all of England was there to say goodbye to Rosalie Weasley, and to apologize for believing that you did anything wrong.
“But the world continued to grow darker, more and more prisoners escaping. You wouldn’t believe how many Death Eaters there actually were, it’s like an unlimited number. About half of the Dementors sided with the Dark side, the first time in known history that they would split up. There seemed to be something blocking those reluctant to join. Something that kept them away.
“Three months ago,” Lucy continued, looking out the window for a moment, “Fortesne Lackley was murdered. His body showed clear signs of being tortured, but the examiners insisted that it was not the Cruciatus curse that he suffered. It soon became clear that the Dark Side had new, much more powerful, weapons. The new Minister of Magic was appointed very soon. After you’d left, Lackley decided that he wouldn’t retire until you got back. He was always someone who believed that you were on the good side. So he didn’t have someone planned to take his spot next. And the first election in two hundred years took place. Walden Macnair was appointed new Minister of Magic.”
She stopped, not sounding finished, but not willing to go on. I leaned over and picked up the Daily Prophet that was half under her couch.
“Don’t read it!” She whispered desperately, “I don’t want to hear what it says.”
And, hearing the absolute terror in her voice, the bravest of my old group, including me, it finally sunk in, how much England changed in the past four years.
“I’ve always said,” She murmured, locking eyes with me, “And this isn’t a guilt notice, that the reason England came to how it is, is because you left it. In a way, you sort of protected out country.”
Slowly, I unrolled the Daily Prophet and was struck by the headline.
AZKABAN PRISONERS RELEASED
I stared at the large bold print in shock.
New Minister of Magic, Walden Macnair, suddenly
decided to release all of the prisoners of Azkaban,
saying that ‘Everyone should get a second chance.’.
While some of England questions Macnair’s decision,
there seemed to be a large portion of the Ministry
who agreed with him whole-heartedly.
A total of 658 prisoners have been released, at the
promise that they would try to do better this time
around. The Dementors that once guarded the prison
have either dispersed or decided to stay around the
now-abandoned building that has been their home
for so long.
Minister Macnair says that at the first sign that any
of the former prisoners are doing anything wrong,
or a new criminal, they will be sent back to Azkaban
Walden Macnair seems to have suddenly decided
that Rosalie Weasley is not dead, under a source
who –though wishes to be unnamed- claims to
have seen her get off a plane in London recently.
Rosalie Weasley, daughter of famed war heroes,
Ronald and Hermione Weasley has been named
the Undesirable One for reasons which the Ministry
promised to make public later.
If she is caught, she will be sent to Azkaban after
a trial. Keep your eyes out for her, she is said to be
the reason of the entire new Darkness that has
settled over England once more.
“Well,” I muttered, “It could be worse.”
Lucy gave me a skeptical look.
“On the bright side, I’m once again Undesirable One, no longer dead.” I said with false brightness.
The article was snatched out of my hands and Lucy’s hands shook as she got farther and farther in the article.
“This is worse than I thought,” She whispered when it was over, “There are now around eight hundred supporters and Death Eaters of Voldemort set loose.”
“I can’t stay here,” I said, suddenly serious, “Luce, you could get sent to Azkaban as well if they caught me with you. You could die.”
As soon as I began speaking, Lucy got up and began closing all of her curtains on her windows and French doors.
“Do your protective spells,” She whispered. I understood that we were to talk in whispers from now on, for fear of being heard.
I held my wand directly in the air and began doing all of the protective spells that my mum had taught me when I was small, and one’s that I’d researched in the Library at Hogwarts.
The flat glowed a dull orange and I lowered my arm slowly. “No one will be able to Apperate into the flat. We can leave, if you want to move to the Burrow. I’m positive that’s what everyone else is doing.”
She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly, “We won’t leave until it’s time for the lunch thing. I don’t have a job.”
So it was settled. We wouldn’t step foot outside the flat until it was time to Apperate to the Burrow.
I know, it was short and stuff. Bear with me.