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Chapter 1 : The Beginning
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The only difference was that before my father had made sure no one would show it, even if their eyes remained malicious otherwise. Those days were gone though, the days where my father loved me. Now I was a no one. Now I stood there, as an example for everyone in my village, as my own father raged war against me.
We lived in a small village just off of one of the banks of the Ganga River. Our world was completely cut off from the rest. We, the people of the countryside, lived in peace and somewhat equality and fairness, or so we pretended. Even though it was taboo to mention, my family, the Clairmonts, were the obvious leaders of the village. We had moved here ages ago, dating back as to my great great great grandfather, but the comfort level we had found in this place had replaced the family’s desire for adventure. It also kept us away from the wizarding world which meant we could get away with pretty much anything. Not that I knew those things were. My introduction to magic had been quite minimum as my father would prove today.
We had everything here. Power, money, and even fame, or as much as one could have gained in such a small village anyway. Everyone knew we had magical powers, even though it was never talked about publicly. Bad things happened to those who talked about it. They would all end up dying by some sort of mysterious disease, but I never really thought about how they could have gone through being so healthy at one point to dead the next.
Our powers were the reason why we were given so much attention, so much liability, and all of the freedom. They were scared, I had concluded as a young child when my mother had told me about my powers. And being the childish kid I was, I had promised myself I would try to make them less afraid of me. I would be the change for the village, the change it so desperately needed.
I had heard talks before about how my eyes were cold and showed little feeling. That my long dark brown hair was unruly and looked as if I barely combed it. Apparently my face had always been in a thin line as well, making it look like I didn't care for the village but I did! More so than my father every did.
And for a while I had convinced myself that I had changed the village. People would talk to me, they would ask me how my day had been, I even had friends who would want to come home with me. Life had been great, in the mind of the 8 year old at least. Teachers started yelling at me when I didn’t do homework, and for some odd reason it pleased me that I was treated equal. Boys teased me on the playgrounds, and girls cried freely in front of me. Only the difference was that now, they would cry for company rather than crying in fear of me. I had become one of them. I had changed my village, and in my eyes that had the same value as changing the world.
But I had been wrong. I had only changed my view. The village was still the same, with no one thinking of me as their equal. I realized I had always been above them and now that my father refused to call me family, they happily threw me into the pile of traitors where they thought I truly belonged.
“You have disgraced us Emylina,” came the cold voice of my father but I didn’t bother raising my head to look at him.
As a young child, parental respect had been something that had been ingrained into me constantly. It always seemed like I was doing exactly what my parents were saying, even when I didn’t want to. Though now when I think about it, it had never been my parents really; not at all. It had just been my dad. My father, who I had always associated with a kind soul. Even in my wildest dreams, or whenever I was furious with him, I had never thought him to be like this. Like the person he was right now. Standing right in front of me;as if it was my fault.
I guess it’s my fault really. I should have known. There were very slight things he did, that should have warned me but alas I was young and even now, as a 19 year old, I had been naive enough to go to him, in hopes of help, when my life had been close to shambles. I remember when I was 9, when I had first shown signs of magic. I had been too young to notice before, but now as my memory flew back to the time, I guess I knew why I never really thought about my life before age 9... My father's interest only showed in me after he found that I had magic, just like him.
My mother’s dying words flashed through my mind, “Don’t ever believe your father Emylina. My love heed my words. Never listen to your father or any man. They all want one thing love and it’s not what you think. They just want your body, your obedience, and a son. Never trust a man,” she had said with the gasp of her last breath and I had mentally scoffed at her wisdom.
“Did you hear what I said Emylina? You have disgraced us and such disgrace we will not live with. I don’t care if you are my daughter; you will be punished,” came my father’s calm and cruel command and I knew immediately that there was nothing that could save me today.
“Well father. Why don’t you get along with it?” I taunted him, finally lifting my head up and throwing my long curly dark brown hair over my back and meeting him with my uncanny emerald green eyes.
“I taught you better than this Emylina,” he said in response as the his best friend, or more of a royal guard brought his wand to him.
“You taught me nothing besides how to control people,” I spat out at him, as he raised his wand, only a slight twitch in his brow showing that he was actually mad.
“Crucio,” he said coldly.
I heard the curse before I felt it, though nothing could have prepared me for the pain that accompanied the curse. He had never taught me anything about such a curse, and it just made me wonder if every offensive curse out there in the Magical world was so painful. I could feel claws at my skin, as a high shrill screeching hit my ears making me scream out in pain. It was unbearable and I could feel my long legs buckle underneath me, making me hit the floor. And then it was over.
I breathed heavily as my head hung once again, my body going limp but the ropes holding me in my standing position. I wouldn’t have wanted anything more than just to barrel over and slip on the floor in a tight ball but I guess my father knew me better than I thought; And he had stolen all type of comfort that I could have had.
“How’s it my fault!?” I screamed at him, my voice picking up sound as the pain vibrated throughout my body, “You were the one who said I should marry him. You were the one who forced me to get engaged to him!” I shouted.
“Crucio,” he repeated and I felt the pain wash over me once again as I screamed loudly, begging for someone to stop him.
When he finally stopped, I stood there as time stayed still. I could see colors flashing around my eyes and I fleetingly wondered what this would do to the life growing inside of me. The reason that I being subjected to this torture, and the only reason I was refusing to give into the pain. Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard the voices of the villagers, though whether it was falsehood or reality, I couldn't tell.
As I came to my sense, I heard the voices once again but this time I recognized them to be the voices of the people who I had called friends. I wondered if they were finally speaking up, if they were actually going to try to stop my father, but then I started making the words out and my eyes flew open in shock. My head spun around quickly to see for myself and then I heard the voice of the new entry.
“What’s going on here?” came the male voice and I flinched despite myself; my body fearing of the extra pain I might have to endure.
“Nothing of your concern. I was just teaching my daughter the consequences of going against my wishes,” my father responded, the acussing look not leaving my face, as if it was my fault this man was interrupting him.
“Really? It sure looked like you were torturing her from what I saw,” the man argued, making hope raise in my heart, though I still couldn’t really see him since my eyes were blurry. Maybe he could save me, maybe he would! But then my mother’s dying words came back and I squished the thoughts down. I had put my share of faith in men. And they had all failed. My mother had been right. Men only wanted one thing, and this one would be no different.
“It’s a family matter,” I heard my father reply making me wince since now the stranger would have to leave. No one fought against my father when he said it was family business. No one ever had. Only he had, my fiance. The man who had promised to wed me but then had bed me the day before my marriage day and then left me;Pregnant.
“And is this how you treat family matter? By using the Cruciatus Curse?” the man asked, his voice on a different tone now than the drawl he had before.
My eyes came into focus and I saw the back of the man’s head. My mouth flew open in shock as I stared at the back of his head. It was him! It could only be him! Who else would have that telling raven black hair that stood up in every different angles? It had to be him!
“What’s it to you boy?!” my father asked making me look at him in shock. Why wasn’t he happy? Richard, my fiance, was back! Why wasn’t he throwing a feast?
“It’s torture. And as an Auror I can’t allow you to do it,” came the response from the man, which made my resolve shake just a bit.
He didn’t sound like my Richard... His voice was much deeper and had less emotion in it.. But I shook my head, refusing to believe that he was anyone but Richard. He was my Richard and he was back to marry me. He would take me away from this horrible place and my horrible father. Do you really want to go with the man who once left you?? demanded the annoying voice in my head making me twist consciously as I knew that the answer would be yes.
“You're from the ministry aren’t you?”
“Yes I am. Now stop torturing her and start answering my questions. You are in no position to be asking questions with the amount of things you have down. I have finally found you Matthew, and this time you won’t be going anywhere,” the man said.
I held my breath as the silence deafened. No one said anything, they just watched the two men as they glared each other down, to see who would be the first to back down. I wondered fleetingly why this man wanted to find my father sso badly, it's not like he did anything wrong but then I banished the thought. My father was of no concern to me now. Finally my father moved.
“I’ll come with you quietly to the ministry if you do one thing,” he said quietly.
“You are in no real position to be throwing ultimatums Mr. Clarimont,” the man drawled as if he had no care in the world.
“I’ll just kill her then,” my father said, pointing towards me making me gasp internally though I wasn’t sure why since it wasn’t exactly shocking.
“And why would that bother me? It would just build against your case. And there would be eyewitnesses too,” the man responded.
“Off course, but maybe you should hear her out for a bit James Sirius Potter. Hear why she was getting tortured,” my father said, making me slightly confused as to why he was calling my Richard by another name.
That’s when the man turned around, and I saw that he really wasn’t Richard. All of my hope flew out the window as I just started at the man blankly for a while, trying to mentally make his eyes green, him a bit shorter, not have as much muscle and wear glasses.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
I wasn't exactly sure what that meant... so I told him him everything. I wasn’t really sure why... It’s not like he could do anything, but I just assumed that it wouldn’t hurt anyway. He couldn’t bring back my Richard and he couldn’t get rid of my over looming death but at least I would die with the image of my Richard in my mind while looking at a man who looked so much like him.
“... and he looked just like you. He did really. His eyes were green though... and he wore glasses,” I said softly, my eyes tearing up involuntarily as I saw the man’s facial expression change from impassive to something close to recognition and then anger.
“And your pregnant?” he demanded in a tone that no one had ever used with me before but I nodded anyway. What was the point in fighting really? It didn’t matter, “How dare you Crucio a pregnant woman?” the man demanded of my father.
“She betrayed my trust. She slept with him before her marriage,” my father bit out as if he was talking about a disease while the man kept staring at me with those eyes which weren’t Richard’s.
“Fine I’ll marry her,” he said, shocking me by releasing me from my restraints and lifting me up in his arms, my arms flying across his neck to support myself.
I looked at his face and just for a moment let myself believe that it wasn’t just a random man but Richard who was back and said, “Thank you Richard,” before everything went black.
*edited for typos and mistakes!
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