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Checkmate by GoCalgaryFlamesGo

Format: Novella
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 985
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse

Genres: Drama, Horror/Dark, Romance
Characters: Arthur, Molly, Regulus, Bellatrix, R. Lestrange, Voldemort, OC, OtherCanon
Pairings: Other Pairing, Arthur/Molly, OC/OC

First Published: 09/19/2009
Last Chapter: 09/19/2009
Last Updated: 09/19/2009


‘My name is Aurelia. Father once said it meant golden. Now I realize I’m anything but. My life has been one twisted, dark story of lies, deception and betrayal. I guess it will end here in Azkaban. But it starts elsewhere. With two men. One who loved me. And one who would use me...’

Chapter 1: Prologue
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Three thousand forty-one.
That was the number of tallies that marked the wall of my prison cell when I first set eyes upon her. I had spent the last eight years, a hundred and twenty-one days of my life trapped behind those cold iron bars, isolated from anything more than the briefest touches of humanity. My life consisted of the four walls surrounding me – three stone, one iron – and the whimpers and screams of those imprisoned near me. They were going mad, all of them. I feared that one day soon, I would become like them.

And then she entered my world.

I can still remember how defeated she looked, when the Dementors first tossed her into the empty cell across from mine. Her eyes were downcast, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed dejectedly. She did not raise it as the Dementors locked shut the iron bars before her. Her hair was brown; it hung to her shoulders in a tangled mess, and her thin frame shivered weakly as the Dementors swept away. My first thought upon seeing her was that she would not survive long here. Time would prove me right.

She was quiet that first night. That surprised me. Usually, I would hear them crying out - screaming that they’re innocent, that they don’t belong here. Screaming that they want to go home. But she did not utter a single word. Indeed that night, she did rarely shifted from her slumped, defeated position. And only once that night would she raise her head as a pair of Dementors again swept past our cells, another poor soul held limply in their grasp. Only then could I glimpse the silent tears that trickled down her cheeks.

Three thousand forty-four was the number of tallies on my wall when she first spoke. ‘Will it ever go away?’ she asked me in a choked, crushed voice. ‘The misery, will it ever disappear?’

I remember at that moment desiring nothing more than to lie to her. To tell her it would. I wanted to and yet I could not. It was with a heavy heart that I reluctantly shook my head. No.

Three days later she spoke again. Three thousand forty-seven. Her brown eyes met mine and held them. ‘I need to speak,’ she mumbled softly, blushing as she said so. ‘There’s something that I need to say and I need someone to listen to it.’ She seemed embarrassed by her request. ‘Will you listen?’ Her eyes seemed desperate, pleading as they continued to hold mine.

In that moment she looked so weak and so fragile that I knew I could not refuse her. I nodded. Yes.

The quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips. Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. She took a deep breath, and began to tell a story. Her story.

‘My name is Aurelia. Father once said it meant golden. Now I realize I’m anything but. My life has been one twisted, dark story of lies, deception and betrayal. I guess it will end here in Azkaban. But it starts elsewhere.

‘My childhood was unremarkable – neither good nor bad. I remember very little of it. It does not matter. Nor do my parents. What matters are two men. One who loved me. And one whose only desire was to use me...’

She paused, the expression on her face hardening. Another deep breath – she appeared to be readying herself – and then she opened her mouth again and continued.

‘I was seventeen when I first found myself falling for the charming smile of Fabian Prewett; eighteen when he first wrapped his hand around mine, entwining our fingers and kissing me beneath a starlit sky. The age of nineteen found me living in his apartment and sleeping in his bed. Those moments where I would awake wrapped in his arms were some of the happiest that I’ve ever had. Fabian was a wonderful man. Always laughing and smiling; there was very little that could upset him. He was charming and comforting. When I was with him, I felt safe. Protected from those who wished harm upon us. He was my white knight – my guardian and protector. I was his and he was mine; we loved each other equally. We were happy.

Then, I met another man. And despite all my feeling, all my love for Fabian, I found myself falling for this new man. He charmed me – not as Fabian had, with wit and smiles – but with passion and darkness. And he set a trap to ensnare me and deceived me into stepping into it. By the time he had enclosed it around me I was already caught, was already in love with him.

His lies and deception were so powerful and so irresistible, that it was years before I realized I’d been baited. Years before I came to understand that I was no more than a pawn in his game. And by that time I had been drawn so far and so deep into his dark world that I knew I had no way to escape. He was my dark knight – my master and jailor. And while I became his, he was never mine. His lies and deception were such that I had fallen in love with him, but as I would come to learn he never loved me in return and only wanted me for what I could give to him.

He manipulated me, as one manipulates a chessboard. Beneath his power I felt helpless, unable to resist. I did his bidding without question; I never argued with his orders. Each order that I obeyed for him served only to drag me deeper into his world. And eventually I found myself wound so deeply beneath his command that when he demanded it, I would turn on my former lover and lead him to his death...’