Inevitable Uncertainty: Antonia's Story

Chapter 1: Of Dracons and Disappointments

A soft gust of wind pushed the slightly ajar window open to its full extent, causing the pane to crash loudly against the wall behind it, in its encasing. The breeze continued through the room, tugging parchment and pages longingly with its furtive blows and tossing three or four rolls to the floor. It wound up and down the velvet curtains encasing a large, four-poster bed, waving the fabric gently and causing it to slightly part, revealing what seemed to be its final destination. Antonia Gillespe turned on her side restlessly as the air playfully pulled at her mane of tenebrous chestnut hair, but she only succeeded in being suffocated by the array of satin pillows scattered next to her. A muffled groan rose, followed by an angry sounding 17-year-old's own private selection of swearing. The day was already on her nerves and she hadn't even risen yet.

An aggravated sigh escaped her lips as she threw back the deep violet curtains, which had betrayed her wishes of keeping the sun out. Her bare feet touched the cold stone floor warily, causing a cold shiver to parade up her spine. She shook slightly and took several steps towards the dresser neighbouring her bed. The face peering back displeased Antonia as always. Unkempt, tasselled bed-hair fell down her back amidst a slight wave, merging with her slightly tan, Italian skin. Several freckles (the cause of so many failed attempts at an anti-stipple potion) played across her nose in an unorganized fashion, and two, dark mahogany eyes surveyed it all. The mirror was in its usual cynical mood, commenting on the fact that the nasty orange goo she had lathered onto her face the night before hadn't seemed to make the blemishes go away. Antonia promptly pointed her wand at the glass and muttered "Engersio." It was a simple shocking spell; it worked quite effectively as the mirror shrieked in pain. She peered back into the now pleasantly silent mirror, smirking. The fact that her face resembled her mother and father's so well made her stomach twist in knots. She raised one delicate eyebrow as she picked up the brush in front of her, and pulled it through her hair until it reached its normal state of semi-straight tresses.

She had just finished pulling on a clean robe when the clock tower in the nearby Muggle village began to chime. She counted along mockingly as the bell rang up to seven, Antonia expecting it to cease there. Her eyes widened in alarm as it rang an additional four times. She was frozen to her spot as realization mixed with anger hit her that it was, indeed, eleven o'clock. The lack of her mother's nagging voice waking her at seven could only mean that they had been summoned. She stamped her foot lividly on the ground and clenched her fists, an angry growl surfacing. She grabbed her wand from the dresser top, stuffed it into a pocket of her robes, and quickly ran to the great maple doors separating her from the hallway, threw them open and dashed out.

The hallways of Antonia's home were curved in every which way, each lined with paintings of past ancestors dating back to the early 1400's. In her haste she had no time to stop and chat with the many works of art that called their morning regards. At the end of the hallway she met a spiral staircase, which led down to the first floor library. She barrelled down the flight, skipping the last three steps and emerged into a hall where so many unread novels lay that had been passed down to various family members over the years. Soon she crossed the room and came to the entrance hall where she, too, passed through hurriedly. It was not until she came upon the dining room that she slowed her pace, steadying her breathing, and replaced her askew robes in an attempt to appear nonchalant to the voices in the next room. A few careful, quiet steps closed the space between her and the doorway, and she peered inside knowing whom to expect in the next room.

At the end of a long maple table sat two figures, both still clad in black hooded robes, one clutching a cloth to his forearm. Crimson blood had soaked through completely but the recipient of the wound seemed to pay no mind as he sat sipping a cup of steaming tea. She advanced towards the pair quietly, as to not disrupt their conversation, but her elder brothers soon noticed her approach. The same mahogany eyes met hers, both conveying a look of thorough disgust.

"Have a good night sleep, Annie?" Gavin asked, the words dripping with malice. The eldest of her brothers had always despised his sister, for reasons unknown to Antonia. She didn't mind though as the feeling was quite mutual. She nodded curtly, holding in a wince at the pet name she hated and he insisted on using. The mocking tone in Gavin's voice made her want to scream. He knew perfectly well how much she had wanted to be summoned the night before.

"Twit," she muttered under her breath. He looked up from his cup indicating that he had heard her remark. Before he could retaliate on said remark, she continued.

"There was a summoning last night. What happened?" she asked as she took a seat.

The two Death Eaters were always the ones she pumped for information. She was seventeen but her parents still insisted on leaving her home when the Dark Lord summoned them. Never mind the fact that she was due to swear her allegiance to him in less than a year. Her eyes narrowed as the pair remained silent, but finally the younger cleared his throat.

"Dear sister, we have no idea what you could be referring too," Ephrim stated. Antonia crossed her arms potently, clearly not amused.

"Don't play daft. Oh, strike that, you probably aren't playing. Anyhow, what happened?" she questioned once again, starting to get annoyed by her brothers' cheek.

"You are far to young to know," Gavin started, knowing this would hit hard to her.

His mind was soon changed as Antonia gripped the arm he was carefully nursing. When he had yanked it from her grip with a howl of pain, he stood quickly to advance on her and return the favour. Ephrim, though, came to her rescue and grabbed his brother by the robe, pulling him back into his seat with a chuckle. A strand of light brown hair fell into his eyes as Gavin rubbed the wounded arm with a show of agony still on his face. Antonia must have convinced him, as he soon continued.

"Nott found out about a ministry meeting taking place near Deep Hollow, over by the Fletcher Manor. Thirty or so of us were summoned and got a few of them, four, I think. Fudge got away though," he added as an after thought, distaste clearly showing in his features.

Antonia's eyes widened with excitement, although disappointment remained sorely in the back of her mind. She had wanted to be taken along when her parents and brothers had been summoned next. She assumed that they still considered her a child and much to untrustworthy to present to the Dark Lord yet. Trying not to think about it though, she looked back to her brothers.

"Kill any Muggles?" she asked.

"No Muggles around to torture, I'm afraid," Ephrim answered. "The meeting didn't seem to be anything more than a social gathering. At least they weren't expecting us."

To this, Gavin shook his head and cleared his throat nonchalantly.

"Didn't you hear Malfoy talking to Mulciber? The git was talking loud enough for the wizards in the next town to hear," he whispered in a hushed voice, as if he were trying to keep it from Antonia. "One of them got a hold of the prophecy. They know everything now," he said in an eerie tone, one Antonia didn't know Gavin possessed. Her mind raced with information she didn't comprehend. What the hell was this prophecy? And why hadn't she been told about it? She lived in a house of four Death Eaters and was always the last to know everything. Well, last next to Penn, the youngest offspring of Anthony and Victoria Gillespe.

"What prophecy are you talking about?" she asked automatically. "Also, where are Anthony and Victoria?"

"None of your bloody business, you bint. Mother and father are probably still in bed. Must you insist on calling them by their first names? They are our parents you realize," Gavin spat.

"Oh yes. Charming parents to me, aren't they?" she said quietly, knowing full well that Gavin would hear. However, he chose not to respond, thankfully, and took a biscuit from the plate in front of him. She stared at him incredulously, wondering how on earth she had ended up with him as a brother. Ephrim noticed her staring, or so it seemed, and waved a hand in front of her eyes to bring her back to the world. He gave a slight snigger and downed the last of his tea. "When are you planning on joining our little escapades, Antonia?" he asked. To this, Antonia shot a death glare in his direction, indicating she didn't want to talk about it.

"Are you kidding, Ephrim?" Gavin began. "Father wouldn't let her if her life depended on it," he stated with a smug look in Antonia's direction. The sad thing was that her father really wouldn't let her go if her life depended on it.

"Well Malfoy's son came last night, didn't you see him?" Ephrim said and looked to Gavin. Gavin smirked at his brother and turned his head to nod in Antonia's direction. She rolled her eyes in disgust. Of course others her age were there. Taking a biscuit, she promptly began tearing it to shreds.

"What was his name again? Dracon I think. Anyway, he-"

"Draco," Antonia corrected him without looking up.

"Draco then, he was digging around after the ministry left. Amateur dropped his wand."

That made her smile. Draco always carried off an air of perfection, not to mention arrogance, around Hogwarts. Knowing he wasn't always flawless made him a bit less intimidating. Then again he had never been all that horrid to her. Nevertheless, the image he gave off was one of superiority and he was most certainly not superior to her. Antonia's smile quickly faded, though, when she realized Mister Perfect had been in the exact position she wished to be in, lack of wand or no.

With a sigh, she brushed the last crumbs off her hands and onto the plate below. She had nearly drifted off into another daydream when the sharp movements of her brothers caught her attention. They both stood with such haste that Gavin didn't realize the tablecloth was tucked into his trousers. She peered at them inquisitively, finally noticing Ephrim's strained neck motioning towards the other end of the room. She slowly turned, a bit perplexed, and was met with the last thing she wanted to see. Standing in the doorway were her mother and father, looking as regal as ever. She shot out her seat with a quick bolt, her wand nearly dropping from its pocket.

The pair was sinister to say the least. Both held a cold stare on each of their children, Victoria's arm wrapped delicately around her husbands. They held their heads high, in a fashion that could send chills down any one person's spine. Victoria stood a head or so shorter than Anthony but still conveyed a look prestige, her sickeningly thin frame swaying a bit. They began to walk slowly towards their three children, a light conversation transferring from one to the other, but Antonia was too fixed to pay attention. Gavin and Ephrim quickly moved from their spots at the head of the table and allowed their mother and father to take their seats. They did so without the slightest nod or a thank you, towards their sons.

When her parents had taken their seats, she carefully sat back down, looking over warily to her siblings. She knew that her mother and father would be in a horrible mood as always after a summoning, and was cautious as to not make any disrupting noises. They both began buttering a biscuit, Gavin and Ephrim slowly approaching the table once again and taking a seat across from Antonia. She held in a smile, seeing how the dominant shell had slipped carefully away from her siblings. Her breathing had slowed from the shock, though, and she thought it a good idea to play the calm one.

"Did you sleep well, Antonia?" Victoria said, startling the girl by such a kind gesture.

"Yes, Mother," she replied almost forced.

"It's too bad you still have a year until you swear you allegiance. You missed a bit of fun last night," she said in her petite, drawn out tone.

"So I've heard," Antonia responded. She then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. It had slipped out before she could stop herself! With this, Anthony looked potently to Gavin and then Ephrim. Gavin shook his head slightly, indicating to Antonia that something had not been said. She made a mental note to twist Gavin's arm again once they were alone.

"You should have that seen too," Anthony stated with a bit of disgust, one of his thick, callused fingers pointing to Gavin's arm. His tone alerted Antonia, and she nearly asked what he had done before Anthony pressed on. "Honestly, you would fathom a grown wizard would know to watch his feet. Tripping over a ministry official's lame attempt at childish behaviour, imagine. He stuck his foot out while you were watching, Gavin."

There was an icy feel to his voice, but Antonia couldn't help giggling a bit. Victoria raised one delicately plucked eyebrow accompanied by a glare in her direction and her laughter ceased sharply. Anthony leisurely turned his attention to Antonia, who now sat uncomfortably.

"When does term start for you?" he asked swiftly.

"Two days, Father."

"Shouldn't you be packing your things or something of the sort?" He asked.

"I've already done so."

"Well do it again," he replied sharply. It was more of a demand than a request. Antonia nodded harshly knowing full well this would offend her Father. Instead, he dismissed her with a haughty smirk, just as she was standing to leave the table. She stalked out of the room and into the entrance hall, slamming the door behind her and unintentionally snagging the last bit of her robes in the process. She tugged hard on them but found them to be completely stuck. Not wanting to open the door once again and appear a fool, she yanked one final time with all her might, the robes coming free and sending her flying backwards onto the hard marble floor. Her head hit the stone with a crash and a yelp of pain escaped her lips, the searing ache flooding her senses. She opened her somewhat teary eyes and peered up into those of another's, startled that someone had seen her plunge.

"Penn, if you tell anyone about this I'll force feed you a rat and sic my cat on you." She said in a discouraging tone.

She sat up gradually, rubbing the back of her head for any sign of a bump. Sure to her instinct, a large swell had started. She whimpered a bit and gazed up at the small ten-year-old now before her.

"Well," she said expectantly. "Help me up at least." The boy took her hand and heaved her to her feet, now looking up at his sister in question.

"Why did you slam the door?" he asked in a diminutive voice. His slightly lighter hair flopped in ever direction meeting the same tan skin, although his eyes were a shade brighter than Antonia's. He reached down leisurely and picked up the murky, redwood wand that had fallen at her side in the stumble. Antonia annoyingly snatched it from his hands and pushed it back into her pocket.

"Anthony is being an ass, as usual. Git," she trailed off, looking back over her shoulder to the closed oak doors. Penn followed her glare and past her, approaching the door soundlessly. He pressed a small ear to the keyhole and Antonia watched as his brow furrowed in concentration. She took a step closer and placed a hand on his back, pressing her own ear to the heavy wood. Muffled yet slightly audible voices could be heard from the inside, and Antonia tried desperately to make out the conversation.

"- she's much to young to be tagging along. She'd get in the way and probably end up taking out a servant instead of a Muggle-lover," she heard her father roar in what seemed to be protest.

"Father, she's seventeen. I was sixteen when first I came to a summoning." That was Ephrim's voice.

It was the first time in her life she had ever heard one of her elder brothers stick up for her. Let alone anyone.

"There are far to many things that could go wrong. She's not advanced enough to do any real damage, so what's the point? The Dark Lord wouldn't approve of her rough antics, and think of the shame that would bring," he bellowed harshly, yet keeping his voice low. "You don't want shame brought upon this family, do you son?" His tone was defining and Ephrim seemed to get the picture by his lack of reply. Antonia chided herself for thinking that her father could actually be concerned for her safety in the issue. Of course it was all in an attempt to save his face. Rolling her eyes in disgust, she looked down at her younger brother and half-smiled. At least she had one person who cared about her.

The voices had ceased after her father's final word, but soon her mother's high-pitched say made its way to Antonia's ear.

"The prophecy isn't going to be easy to keep under wraps, you realize. I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't printed something about it already," she affirmed. "How on earth could those beastly Muggle-lovers come across it?" More on this prophecy caused Antonia to press her ear harder against the oak door, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"Dumbledore," Anthony replied bluntly and rather bored sounding, as if it were obvious. "My guess is he's known about it for decades, but the Dark Lord has surely known that."

Anthony's tone could only lead the straining listeners to believe he was puzzled by this theory. Antonia's mind was darting around trying to make sense of this newfound information.

When the scraping of chairs echoed through the dining hall, she pushed away from the door abruptly and grabbed Penn by the sleeve. She pulled the boy across the hall and into a small alcove positioned behind the stairwell. Her face was red as she tried to hold her breath, slapping a hand over Penn's mouth and pulling him closer to her. She watched as four shadows silently came from the dinning hall and crossed the expanse to reach the library. Her grip tightened on Penn's robes as she waited silently for the door to shut. A screech and a click indicated that the door was securely shut, allowing her and her brother to let out a long over due breathe.

Penn broke free of Antonia's grip and ran into the hall, followed slowly by Antonia. Her eyes conveyed anger, a feeling she was used to by now. Deep inside her she felt a pang of disappointment, but disappointment was not a trait her Father cared to deal with.

"Antonia, what's Father going on about?" Penn asked, the end of his slightly large robes trailing on the ground. He was still wearing his flannel pyjamas underneath the robes and bare feet accompanied his ensemble. She glanced quickly to the library door and took his hand, tugging him up the large staircase in front of them.

They reached a study on the third floor quickly, Antonia pushing the boy in and closing the door behind her. She sat down on a large rug in front of Penn's seat, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Did you hear a great deal of his conversation with Ephrim and Victoria?" she asked promptly. He shook his head rapidly with a wounded look on his face, but an aggravated look from his sister caused him to slowly nod a yes. She sighed loudly, looking over to the fire and throwing a loose piece of lint into the flames.

"Fabulous father figure we have," she began sarcastically but trailed off quietly.

She looked at Penn. "I told you he wouldn't let me come to the next summoning," she stated with an attempted conceited look but it dwindled away as she discovered that she didn't care.

Since the day she had gotten her first wand, her father had been teaching her Dark Magic. She had gone through 6 years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry hiding in the background because her father had told her that 'friends are unnecessary' in what she was expected to do. She knew that one day she would become a Death Eater and serve her Dark Lord with her life. But with her Father's inability to trust her, she was finding it hard to believe it would ever happen. That chance to prove her self to him seemed closer and closer everyday but it would always be faintly out of her reach, unless she did something about it, and soon.

"I'm going to prove myself to him." She said quietly, yet a tone of fierceness was evident in her voice. Now, for unknown reasons, she found this incredibly amusing, to the point where she soon began giggling uncontrollably. It was a quirk she had, finding the oddest things absolutely hilarious. It had landed her in a few rather embarrassing situations before but she was to occupied to notice. She leaned her head back against the sofa behind her and pulled a hand through her hair, staring at the richly ornamented ceiling. It was two days before she went back to Hogwarts, two more days of being a disappointment to him. Then again, disappointment wasn't something she cared to deal with either.