"If you cannot do great things, do small things in a great way."
– Napoleon Hill
I stare at Ariana, jaw agape.
"You- You know who I am?!" I say out loud, internally freaking out. My hands grab her shoulders frantically, thinking it was some sort of fluke. It wasn't because she grins up at me, tiny body flinging at me, arms wounding around my neck in a desperate hug.
"I missed you! You were gone for for long! You and dad both!!!" She wails, tears running down her face as she clutches me tightly to herself, body shaking with sobs.
I see Aberforth looming forward, expression worried.
"Ana." My voice was frantic, my gaze going between Aberforth and Ariana, "No one remembers who I am okay? You need to pretend you don't either." I say, voice quivering in disbelief. I was trying to be soft, but my brain had suddenly ceased its function.
"What? Why!?" She demands, face crinkling up in anger, eyes trained on my own.
"Ariana..." My voice was pained, and tears were running down my face fully now. "I love you." I whisper, and her bottom lip begins to tremble, realizing what I was saying.
"NOOOO! Don't leave me!!!!! Everyone always leaves! No one ever stays!! I WANT YOU TO STAY!" She screams, and she was crying like she was already grieving. She latches herself on me, legs and arms winding around my form so tightly I was certain she was restricting blood flow.
"Ana!!!" Aberforth scolds, rushing over. His pink apron was whipping around, and he heaves in a breath from running over to us so quickly, "You're being rude child!" He snaps, and his eyes meet mine, "I am so sorry for this. She gets attached easily."
His hands go around the child, trying to yank her away.
She lets out a shriek so loud, everyone in the room finches.
"Ana!!" He tries pulling, and I instantly latch my arms around her, pulling her away from him with a look of pure rage.
"Its fine. Let's wait for her to calm down a tad." I manage to say and plop down on the couch Ariana had almost died on.
"Are you sure?!" The poor man was hyperventilating, not knowing why the girl in his care was freaking out like this.
I shoot him a soft smile, hands wounding around my child, fingers massaging her head and running through her hair tenderly.
Aberforth stares at her, startled, and then a look of gratitude slowly morphs on his face, "Could you watch her until I close up shop?"
I nod, affirming it. I was not moving away from the only person who remembered me. I realized the girl was trembling in fear, not wanting to lose me again. My heart stutters painfully, and I suck in a breath, teeth-gritting. This poor kid.
I start humming under my breath, which seems to calm her down, yet her grip on my shirt never once relaxes.
"Are you leaving again?" Her voice was barely above a whimper. She was shaking tremendously, clutching at my clothing like I was a lifeline, and she was drowning.
"I'll be here tomorrow." I promise her, "I'll come see you every day."
"Promise?" She demands, eyes demanding and untrusting from years of abuse and torment.
I blink and place a gentle hand on her head, patting it gently. Her determined look eases into a loving glance, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling in awe.
"I promise," I tell her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Books in hand and my shoes pattering across the halls, I sped towards the Hufflepuff common rooms. I hadn't realized it, but I'd missed living in the common spaces.
The room was simply cozy. A round, low-ceilinged room that was reminiscent of a badger's sett. A room decorated in cheerful, bee-like colours of yellow and black were enough to destress even me. Unlike the cold, sleek, perfectionist beauty of the Slytherin common rooms, it was a homey place.
I wasn't watching where I was going, and I crash headfirst into someone.
We both go flying to the floor. I look up and swallow hard at the dark eyes staring at me. Tom looked utterly enraged. A look of rage slams into my stunned state. I was sprawled across him.
"Get OFF me this instant you filthy halfbreed." He hisses, shoving me aside. I scowl back at him, kicking his thigh from the place where he'd thrown me sideways.
"Isn't that you?" I drawl, unconcerned, and his body goes rigid, face whipping around to glare at me. Damn... if looks could kill, I'd be dead in seconds.
"You dare?" He snarls, wand whipping out. He points it at my neck, his face beginning to morph into one of pure evil malice and excited intent.
I deadpan him, curling my lip at him in disgust, "Why don't you apologize for ramming into me?" I snarl back, eyes meeting his dead-on.
He blinks, a look of confusion washing over his features as if he'd just experienced deja vu, "What did you say?" He hisses, seeming utterly uncertain. I blink at the unusual expression on him. Standing up slowly, I watch him more in intrigue than anything else. I was desperately trying to ignore the utter gnawing in my chest, trying to ignore the raw, open wound seeping with hurt.
He stands up with him, dusting off his clothes like the mere thought of me touching him was disgusting. Tom stares at me, eyes morphing into irritated slits that were so thin they were like knives slashing my soul.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle." I whisper barely above a hush.
For the second time, I watch Tom Riddle stare at me in barely concealed shock. It was all I could do but stare up at him wide-eyed as this man proceeded to slam me against the opposing wall, hand around my throat.
"How do you know my middle name?" He snarls, face a portrait of murderous intent. I always found it interesting how his eyes got darker with his rage. They were pools of black ink so dark they reminded me of the torturous chambers in Hell.
Tom was getting angry with my lack of response.... or my lack of fear actually for that manner. "Answer me," His tone was haunting, causing goosebumps to erupt on the back of my neck.
"Quaint," I manage to choke out a laugh, his hand restricting my airflow, "Guess I caught your attention."
The confusion erupts in his pupils again, the pressure on my neck increasing tenfold. I was getting red, but I refused to fight against him. I was stronger than him anyways. My eyes filled with contempt, glaring at him and searching his eyes for any sign of recognition.
"Tom..." I murmur, and he flinches at my tone so filled with affection, he could have only felt disgust.
"Who are you?" He snaps, and I suddenly wished Grindelwald was torturing me again. It would have been much better than this.
"No one." I wheeze out, "I'm fucking nobody." And with a shove, he stumbles back, not expecting me to fight back with raw strength instead of magic. I heave in short, slow breaths, not wanting him to see any sign of weakness.
I whirl around, fully ready to march away from him, but I'm utterly flabbergasted when a hand snatches my wrist with enough pressure to break it.
"Your name." He demands, ordering me to give him what he wants.
I sneer at him, seeing the molten anger roll through him like lava and a flash of irritation flickers through my veins. I rip my arm from his grasp.
"Guess," I snarl, pointing at him with my chin. "You've met me before you repulsive prick."
He seemed to grow breathless with his anger, and once again, I find his wand under my chin, pointed directly at my neck.
"What? If you're going to hex me do it already." I say plainly, eyes dull and bored. "This is the second time. If you need validation of your strength Riddle, you aren't going to get it from me." I step closer, and the wand sticks into the skin of my neck. It was really uncomfortable. "Because I will put you on your ass faster than you can blink." I snap, fury tearing through me.
He could barely blink before my wand was similarly pinned on his neck. He squints, like he remembered something, nostrils flared, "Valentine.... That's your name." He states, not even looking down at the wand trained on him. A flash of surprise so brief and faint flickers in his eyes. I could still read this man like a book, and I didn't know if I should be thankful or resentful of the fact.
I blinked, and that was all it took for a lopsided smirk to partake his handsome features, literally stealing the breath away from me. I was aware of how pale my face had just gotten, the colour draining completely from my features. He steps closer to me, and I'm forced to bend my elbow, so I don't impale the idiot.
His hand reaches to grip the side of my neck, the coolness of his wand snapping against my flushed skin. "You're the one who called me a peacock." He affirms, and I snort, realizing he didn't actually remember me. I'd just made a hell of a first impression on him.... again.
"Was I lying though?" I grin up at him, and his jaw clenches so hard, I was a tad concerned for the viability of his teeth.
"You're plain and annoying." He says bluntly. A single brow raises on my face, causing his anger to increase tenfold.
"Careful there Riddle.... your heart might implode with that high blood pressure eh?" I snicker, tapping the side of his neck with my own hand.
He stares at me silently, taking in my features, and I find myself stuck as if in a trance.
"Uh- Are you two okay?"
We step apart, and both involuntarily scowl at Avery, our arms crossing as we stand side by side glaring at Tom's lackeys.
Poor Lestrange, Avery and Nott looked back in forth between us in shock. We side-eye one another, realizing that we'd unconsciously mimicked each other, before exploding into awkward movements trying to cover for ourselves.
"Valentine.... Right?" Avery asks, and I nod at him, giving them all a mocking curtsey. My retort makes them look like stunned pelicans.
"I'd say it was a pleasure but I'd be lying."
I turn around to walk away for the second time today and pause at Tom's words.
"You'll be participating in the matches against Ilvermorny." He states. He wasn't asking.
I freeze slightly and bite the inside of my cheek.
"What's it to you?" I say out loud, not yet turning around.
"Just have a feeling you'll be fun to duel against."
His tone was eerie, and I turn around to meet black eyes as dark as night with not one star in them. His black eyes seemed to be the poetry of the universe told in moments.... moments that weaved together to form the fabric of his life. I used to be able to see the black heavens in his eyes... one brighter than any star of the night sky. But now, it was too dark to see anything.
The blackness that had been my blanket of protection, a place for my heart to beat quietly in a steady rhythm, was now simply cold.
Swallowing heavily, I stare at him. My fingers were tracing the dagger tattoos on my wrist, and all I wanted to do was fling them at his stupid, smug face.
"No clue why." I sneer, "I'm no-one important."
"I beg to differ." Tom scoffs, "No one can look me in the eye like you do... It's irritating. Your courage seems to stem from stupidity."
"And your arrogance seems to stem from inferiority." I hit back, arms crossed with an impassive look on my face.
He smirks, eyes raking my form, "Intriguing. I look forward to torturing you during the duels."
I smirk back, "You can definitely try Tommy boy." I say and let out a laugh at his enraged expression, his face akin to an angered dog. And finally, I'm able to disappear away from him and his friends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My sword slashes sideways, decapitating a rapist's soul. The dead soul standing behind him starts screaming, kissing the floor at my feet, begging for mercy.
I stare at him, tilting my head in disdain, before turning to Lucifer in utter boredom.
"Do we have to send these things to their respective dungeons like this? They think we're killing them."
"Well you did decapitate that soul's head from its body." Lucifer says from his place, sitting on the armrest of the throne I was seated on.
"I'm sorry, should I just impale them seventy times?" I ask, head drooped into the palm of my hand. We were both ignoring the wails of the hundred souls in front of us.
"Ouuuu that would be much more fun to do!! You should try that. I usually just sever their heads off. Their screams are funny." Lucifer cackles.
"You're a sadist aren't you?"
"At least I can admit it unlike someone." He boinks my head with his wrist.
"I'm NOT a sadist! I'm simply a cold-blooded killer with no emotions." I pipe up, and Lucifer snickers.
"Good one... No emotions HA! That's a funny joke." He snorts, causing me to push him off the armrest. He tumbles to the floor in a pile of limbs, and I wince hearing the loud bang when he crashes.
"I fucking hate you!"
"Cool."
"I DO!"
"And I said that's cool." I answer, trying not to smile as I stand and swing my sword sideways, effectively ripping the second dude's head off cleanly.
"Good thing souls don't bleed huh?" Lucifer muses.
"You guys shouldn't be torturing them like that." A voice pipes up.
"Greta how many times have I told you not to sit on top of my throne." Lucifer scowls, picking up my petite friend and plopping her right down on the second armrest.
"I don't know!" She giggles and then turns to stare at me. "Why don't you wipe them all out with your Hellfire again. It was cool when you did it last time!" She turns her puppy dog eyes onto Satan, who squeaks, whirling away, his face going red.
"Grets you can't keep pressuring the poor guy. He does anything you ask because of how cute you are." I grumble at her, and she pats my head, a gleaming smile on her features.
"Do it!!" She cheers, making me roll my eyes. I wave a hand lazily, and the entire hall is instantly filled with Hellfire, scorching every last traitorous soul in here. There was a second filled with insane screams of agony before it all quieted down. There was nothing left in the hall except for the three of us.
"Why are you even here? You're supposed to be in heaven." I tell her, and she shrugs.
"I thought you two would be lonely so I decided to visit." Her eyes were warm, and I sigh hearing the sniffles of Satan behind me.
"Val! Val! She came to keep me company." He sniffles, staring at the ghost girl with tears in his eyes.
"To think the devil has a soft spot." I grumble, standing to stretch out my limbs, my sword wrapping around my neck again in a beautiful artwork of tattoos.
"What are you going to do with the Ilvermorny duels?" Lucifer asks, plopping down into the throne, legs thrown up lazily on the armrest, his head in Greta's lap. "Samir won't recognize you. And if you fight with a Hellfire sword, using the moves he taught you, it won't end well." He muses, summoning a bunch of cherries out of nowhere and trying to feed Greta.
I stare at them, horrified for a second, before massaging my forehead from the massive headache they were giving me. "I don't feel like fighting. I'll probably just throw my first match." I muse.
"What about Dumbledore?" Greta demands, her eyes taking on a hard stance. "You need to know what he's planning. He's the one that decided on school-wide matches." She demands.
"He's probably planning to recruit the winners, using the medals that they give out." Lucifer muses.
"The medals?" I ask, brows crinkling in confusion.
"You should probably check if there is any magic on there with angelic magic." Greta tells me, eyes twinkling in excitement. "Then you can find him and stab him in throat for me!"
"Greta are you sure you're supposed to be in heaven?" I ask her in a monotone.
"Yep!! Pretty sure." She giggles.
"He'll be hard to find. He made contracts with a bunch of demons last I saw. Especially that tattoo dude.... remember him? The man possessed by Samuel."
"You mean the demon you killed."
"He fucking deserved it!" I snap at Lucifer.
"Yeah well if he has that tattoo dude again, he can possess the man with another demon and get a bunch of Jin on his side."
"Don't we command the demons and Jin. We are the rulers of Hell." I ask, spreading my arms out to validate my point.
"Uh- Not really??? You commanded them due to the angelic, demonic and wizard magic in your veins. I can't do that. That's why I have Hell-bearers.... to kill the Jin that are out of control."
I stare at him dumbfounded, "Nope. No. Noooooo. I refuse. I am tired. I have tried saving the world -multiple times by the way- and dominating the world. Both didn't work. I'm giving up. Find someone else for the job." I demand at them, and Lucifer shrugs.
"You shouldn't care regardless. You're a ruler of Hell. Just watch the world burn with me." Lucifer muses, popping a cherry into his mouth.
"I should." I nod, pursing my lips, and he gives me a look.
"What about your lover then?" I raise a brow in curiosity.
"My what now?"
"Tom? You know... your man?" He asks.
"Tom doesn't remember her though." Greta says, a slight pout on her lips.
"Make him remember.... or just force him to fall in love with your ass again." Lucifer muses, "Ariana remembered you didn't she?"
"You said people would never remember me... You lied."
"Noooo... I didn't. Usually Father's abilities would stop that from happening. Maybe he wanted you to see which people actually cared about you. Seems like your daughter is the first one since she remembered you almost immediately." He had a fond look on his face remembering the little munchkin.
I stay silent at that, thinking deeply.
"Val....? Do you want people to remember you?" Greta asks gently.
I look up at her, stunned, "Uh- I think so."
They stare at me, both of them wearing mirrored expressions of surprise.
"You think so!?" Greta demands.
I shrug, plopping on the floor and gazing at them with pursed lips, "I don't want to experience that again. What hurts is that we never really said goodbye..... we just kind of ended." I say dully, fingers tracing the red thread on my finger.
"You are so brave and quiet.... I forgot that you were suffering." My friend says in a hush, her face contorted into one of sorrow.
I smile up at her, gratefulness fluttering in the depths of my eyes.
"You're a good friend Greta."
The girl smiles at me, "You'll find peace soon you know. I'm praying for your happiness."
I grin at her, "You want me to win the duels don't you?"
"No.... I want you the win the whole damn competition, beat Dumbledore's ass to a pulp and get everyone to remember you again." Greta says, "It's been a good two months now and you've down nothing but curl into yourself in a fit of depression. The only one keeping you sane is Ariana."
I mull over her words, sensing her worry and love for me. A small smile graces my lips, and her own grin expands in size.
"Well....? Is that a yes?"
I nod at her, "It's a yes."
"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."
– Friedrich Nietzsche