Children of Fate

It took Ana a few moments to realize that she was not in her orchard at all but an orchard very similar to the one she had fallen asleep in. And it took her another moment to realize that it was not she that was screaming but the young girl beside her. And, Ana thought with a jolt of horror, the young girl had every reason to scream.

The girl's dress, which had once been white, was now tattered and stained with crimson blood. Looking up Ana found a woman standing over the girl. For a moment Ana felt a spasm of both panic and alarm as she found the woman standing over her to be Maria, a princess of the Dark Lands and Lord Voldemort's most infamous daughter.

Maria had been born in Lord Voldemort's first reign of terror. It was often said that Maria's mother, Serita Sanchez, was one of the only women that the Dark Lord had ever loved, for he favored her greatly among his many other children. And though Maria was not in her father's lineup of heirs, she was powerful, cunning, and most importantly, she was willing to kill anyone or anything that stood in her way to becoming Queen of Darkness. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort named her as his heir.

'And,' Ana thought with a stab of fear, 'she's bloody scary.'

There was no doubt that the woman in front of her was Maria Juanita Riddle. Everyone knew what the Princess of Pain and the Duchess of Darkness looked like. Long black hair, luminous green eyes, and ginger colored skin...Every little girl in the wizarding world had a picture of her hung over their bed, in hopes to become more like the she-devil.

But Ana's thoughts were interrupted when a whip came hurtling out of nowhere and struck the poor girl on the thigh, causing the poor young mite to scream out in agony. The girl's arms were covering her face, protecting it from the long leather whip that Maria was known for using.

"Damn it, girl! Remove those scrawny arms from your face or I will have to cut them off!" Maria screamed, and Ana gasped in horror as Maria's left hand went to her belt, where a dagger hung in a sheath. Maria's words of anger just made the girl scrunch up into a tighter ball. Ana closed her eyes and tried to suppress the bile rising in her throat. No matter how tightly she shut her eyes, though, and no matter how firmly she pressed her hands over her ears, nothing could block out the screams of the young girl and the sound of the whip hitting the body of the girl.

Finally, after what must have been twenty lashings, Ana heard Maria throw her whip to the ground. "Brat, you've only been here three days and yet you cause so much trouble! I swear, if you embarrass me one more time I will use the Cruciatus Curse on you until you burst! Bloody hell! You stay here until I return!" Maria cried, throwing her whip down to the grassy ground and storming off into the trees.

Ana watched Maria leave, her eyes wide with fear. She clutched her chest and felt her heart hammering wildly against her ribcage. Turning to the girl beside her, Ana studied her face. It was dark in the orchard-but not pitch black-and the lines and features of the girl's face seemed almost familiar.

And then the clouds moved away from the bright Harvest moon and a beam of moonlight fell upon the girl's bloody face. And that's when Ana really did begin to scream. For she suddenly knew the face of the girl, and she knew why it was so familiar.

The girl beside Ana looked exactly like her!

***

Ana was surprised--but not at all unhappy--when she fund that she was yet again in another setting. This one was just as unfamiliar and strange as the rest, though. She was outside again, in front of a large two-story house. It was just becoming dusk and the lights in the house were on.

Drawn by some invisible force-or her curiosity-Ana crept towards the giant front window of the house. Peeking in Ana discovered one thing about these people: they were muggles. A family of five people-a mother, a father, two girls, and a young boy no older than five-were gathered in front of a box that Amber-Lyn had once said was a television. Ana watched the box, entranced. Moving pictures much like the ones in her world moved about the screen of the box, and every once and a while the family would laugh.

Rapt with interest Ana lost track of time. She was brought back to the normal world with a jolt when she heard a rustling behind her and something brushed against her leg. Whirling around Ana found the young boy staring up at her. His big blue eyes were widened in surprise and he clutched his teddy-bear tightly to his chest, as if afraid of Ana. But he couldn't see her, could he?

"Who are you?" the little boy asked, clearing up any questions about her visibility.

"I'm not quite sure of that answer myself, kid, but most folks call me Ana," she replied with amazing serenity, considering the situation.

"Ana's a pretty name," the young boy said. "I have a sister named Ana," he added after a few moments of silence.

"Oh?" Ana asked, raising an eyebrow. "Which of the two girls in there is Ana?"

"Neither," the boy replied sadly. "You see, Mike and Sheryl--my foster parents--adopted me two years ago, when I was three. Those girls in there aren't my real sisters...And they don't treat me like a real brother."

"Then how do you know you have a sister named Ana?" the young girl asked, crouching down so that she was eye-level with the young boy.

"Well, when she left, my real mummy gave someone--I don't know who--a letter to send to me when I reached the age of five. She said that I have two sisters, one named Ana and one named Jenny. Actually, they're my half-sisters, from what she said. But anyway, she said that one day Ana and Jenny would come and find me. I hope it's soon. I'm very alone here." The boy stopped talking and hung his head down low.

Ana wanted to reach out a shoulder to pat his shoulder, but before she could, the scene before her began to fade. A last question stuck Ana. "Hey, what's your name, kid?" she asked hurriedly as everything began to die away into blackness.

"Nicholas. Nicholas Lowell," the boy called, and then Ana knew no more as she slipped back into her peaceful slumber. When she awoke the next morning, back in her bed, she remembered nothing of the boy named Nicholas Lowell.

***

All that day, Ana couldn't shake the feeling that something odd was afoot. Mrs. Davies was gone all day, and when she returned late that night there was a cold, chilling smile on her lips. Immediately she called Lindsey, Mandy, and Rachael into her private study and slammed the doors shut. Amber-Lyn had been sent to bed early, as well, without any dinner, for no apparent reason.

Later, when Ana was relating the story back to her friends and Tinkerbell, the small faerie cocked her head. "Why is that so strange?" she asked. "Is Amber-Lyn Mrs. Davies favorite daughter?"

"Yes," Liza replied. "She's always buying Amber-Lyn the best of clothes, the newest of brooms, and the sweetest of sweets. It's strange, though, because when he was alive, I remember Mr. Davies doing the exact opposite. I remember vaguely that before Rachael was born, he seemed quite horrid to most children, his only child as well. But then Mrs. Davies got pregnant and he seemed to be the happiest man ever.

"He doted on his three younger daughters constantly, but Mrs. Davies always showered Amber-Lyn with gifts. And it's always Amber-Lyn who Mrs. Davies speaks to when she comes home from being out all day. Something's definitely up."

Tinkerbell looked at Liza thoughtfully, and then out the window. "I don't believe I've ever seen Amber-Lyn. Does she look like her bony sisters?"

Ana shook her head vigorously. "Actually, she's kind of pretty. She has hair a few shades darker than mine, large green eyes, and-"

"GOOD LORD! IT CAN'T BE!"

Ana stopped talking immediately and stared at her small winged friend. "Is something the matter, Tinkerbell?" she asked, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Rey back away from the table.

"Yes, something is most definitely the matter. Ana, I have some news for you."

Ana gulped. There was a dangerous gleam in Tinkerbell's eyes. "What is it?" she asked.

"Well, you know that your mother had eight sisters, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So, two of your aunts, Miranda and Josie...Oh, how does one explain this?" Tinkerbell asked, throwing her tiny hands up in frustration. "You remember that I once told you that Francine Lowell had found future husbands for two of your mother's eight sisters? Well, Josie was one of them. She was betrothed to Robert Davies-"

"She was going to marry Amber-Lyn's father?" Rey asked.

"Rey, Robert Davies wasn't Amber-Lyn's father. And Mrs. Davies isn't her mother."

The room became eerily quiet. Everyone was staring at Tinkerbell as if she had grown a second head. "What do you mean they aren't her parents?" Liza asked after a good five minutes.

"Amber-Lyn was born to a woman who was supposed to be marrying Robert Davies. The father of the child was not Mr. Davies, and you can only imagine how angry he was. The poor woman was disgraced, and the child was taken from her care and placed into the care of her younger sister, Pegatha, who married Robert in her sister's place," Tinkerbell explained, sighing sadly. "Voldemort had a hand in it, no doubt. He probably wants to marry poor Amber-Lyn when she reaches a suitable age."

"But that's sick!" Ana gasped. She looked out the window before locking her eyes with Tinkerbell's. "There's something you aren't telling me," she said slowly, and the faerie's guilty expression told all.

"Ana, you don't want to know this," she said, and for once the exuberant faerie seemed subdued, and maybe even frightened.

"Yes I do. What about Amber-Lyn is so important?"

Tinkerbell began to wring her small hands. "Now, Ana, you have to promise me that you'll do nothing stupid when you find out what I'm about to tell you. And you have to understand that I myself don't understand everything that went on over the past eleven years."

"I promise and understand," Ana said, though she sensed that what was coming was truly horrible.

"Ana, who was one of your mother's trusted sisters?" Tinkerbell asked.

"Um...Miranda was close to my mum, wasn't she?"

Tinkerbell closed her eyes and massaged her temples. "No, the other one."

"Peggy? What about her?" Ana asked.

"You don't see the connection?" Tinkerbell asked. "Then what was your grandmother's name?"

"Francine--No! Wait! You said that her name was Lynette!" Ana trailed off as Tinkerbell's secret hit her like a ton of bricks. Her mind began to think, making connections left and right.

Why else would Mrs. Davies have all her mother's things?

What was Peggy short for?

Amber-Lyn was named after Voldemort's mother and Mrs. Davies's mother--Lynette Francine Lowell.

Mrs. Davies was her aunt. But that was impossible! If Mrs. Davies was her aunt then why hadn't she taken proper care of Ana? Tears began to well up in Ana's eyes. No wonder she made Ana dye her hair! She probably looked too much like Kaitlyn Lowell. And no wonder Mrs. Davies shoved Ana in closets whenever Draco Malfoy had come around. If he saw a girl that even halfway resembled his old fiancée then questions would arise, especially if Draco Malfoy had reason to believe that he could be Ana's father.

"Why didn't she take me in? Amber-Lyn got everything she ever wanted! Why didn't she tell me that she was my aunt?" Ana asked, a fury building up inside of her.

"I'm not sure, Ana, but my guess is that it was hard enough to take care of Amber-Lyn without having another child around to remind her of someone she hated," Tinkerbell answered.

"Why did Mrs. Davies hate my mother?" Ana asked.

"Oh," Tinkerbell said, suddenly snapped out of her state of worry, "Mrs. Davies didn't hate your mother, Ana. She hated what your mother became."

"What did my mum become?"

"Everything that contradicted your aunt's ideas on the perfect person. Somewhere between the time your mother began her supposedly platonic love affair with Ron and the time she got pregnant their relationship changed. Which, I suppose, is the perfect cue to begin to explain the rest of the story..."

***

Ron was sitting nonchalantly on the sandy shore by Salazar Harbor's docks, watching various magical boats coming into port and setting sail for sea. Harry and Hermione had left a little over a half an hour ago to go and get ice cream and he knew better than to think that they would return. Ron had learned long ago to except that Harry and Hermione would now being doing more and more things together, things that he could not join in. It didn't hurt that much anymore when Harry forgot about going to a quidditch game to go out with Hermione.

A young woman with reddish brown hair pinned up in a bun was walking down the beach in Ron's direction. In the distance she looked a great deal like Kate. Ron sighed sadly. After the incident last night he highly doubted that he would ever see Kate again. She had seemed pretty upset when she had run off, and her mother had probably reminded Kate that he was nothing more than a commoner. As the young woman drew closer, though, Ron's heart fluttered. He didn't know how--and he didn't care how either--but Kate was standing before him, smiling shyly.

"I had hoped that it was you," she whispered, and she blushed a pretty pink. "My mother thinks everything was a plan. She thinks that I was using you to make Draco jealous. She told me to find you and go out with you to further the effects of my plan."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Was it a plan?" he asked.

Kate shook her head and sat down beside him in the sand. "No, but it's a surefire way to get out of the house to see you." She leaned over and kissed Ron lightly on the cheek before asking, "You do want to see me, right?"

Ron could only nod.

***

"Again, I must ask where Draco Malfoy was when all this was happening," Rey said, cutting Tinkerbell off and earning an icy glare.

"I guess I ought to tell what he was up to," she said through clenched teeth.

"It would make everything so much easier," Rey retorted, smiling in a mockingly sweet manner.

"Very well, then. As Francine had predicted, Draco had become obsessed with winning Kate over. Day after day she ignored him, barely acknowledging his existence. One day he arranged for the two of them to go on a picnic..."

***

"How much further?" Kate asked, and Draco could tell that she was more than a little upset. The carriage they were in bumped up and down along the small country road that led to a small wizarding lake. That was the location for their picnic, the one Draco himself had planned, with no help from his meddling mother or overbearing father. Getting Kate to go on the picnic had been a challenge in itself, though. She had not only rudely refused his offer for a picnic, but she had also tried to run away three times.

If Draco hadn't been so busy trying to win Kate over he would have suspected that Ron Weasley was still playing a large roll in Kate's absentmindedness. Even so, a small part of him wondered where she went to every few days, sometimes at hours on end. She always seemed to be in higher moods, though, when she returned, and sometimes she even made a point to say goodnight, so he wasn't too bothered. Still, she seemed a different girl than when she arrived at Salazar Harbor, and it was a change for the better.

Finally, after nearly thirty-five minutes, the enchanted carriage rolled to a stop on top of a grassy hill. The hill was shaded by several Weeping Willows and it overlooked both a lake and an orchard. As soon as the carriage had halted, Kate vaulted out of it, running across the hilltop and stooping low to pick a bouquet of wildflowers that grew in abundance around the north side of the hill. She put her nose up to the flowers and inhaled the sweet scent, rolling her eyes in exaggerated pleasure.

"It smells heavenly," she said to no one in particular.

"Does it now?" Draco asked, striding over to where Kate was sitting slowly, as if she were a delicate creature that could be scared off at the slightest movement.

"It does. It reminds me of the flowers my father used to pick me when we went to our manor near the ocean. He used to make Josie, Miranda, and I such pretty wreaths...He said we were his pretty princesses. He made little bracelets for Keri and Jeannette, my two youngest sisters." Kate stopped talking and suddenly Draco found that she had locked her dark blue eyes with his steely gray ones. "Do you love your father, Draco?"

Draco was caught off guard. Did he love his father? "What kind of question is that?" he asked slowly.

"A pretty simple one," Kate replied.

"But a stupid question none the less. What business is it of yours to ask me such personal questions? You have no right to question me at all! You're not my mother-"

"BUT I'M YOUR FUTURE WIFE!"

Draco stepped back a good five feet. Kate had sprung to her feet and her fury and anger towards him seemed to fill the entire tree enclosed clearing. Kate's face was twisted into a frightfully furious mask and for a few moments Draco feared for his life.

"That's the problem, Draco Malfoy! That's the bloody problem! You never tell me anything! You walk around with the look on your face like you're some sort of king and you expect me to fall all over you! But it's all an act, Malfoy, it's all an act! Why should I give a damn about you if you don't give a damn about me? I have every right to know personal things about you because we are going to be married! Neither of us may like this predicament, but we at least owe it to ourselves to be honest!" Kate was breathing heavily by the time she finished her tirade. Draco could only stare at her.

"Oh, lord! I lost my temper there. That was something I inherited from my father, you know...My fiery Lowell temper." Kate straitened up and grinned a little.

"Oh, don't worry. I accept your apology," Draco said, and suddenly Kate's expression went sour.

"I never said I was sorry," she hissed, and Draco knew that he had once again set off her "fiery Lowell temper", possibly worse than before.

"But you meant it, right?"

"If I was sorry I would have said so," Kate whispered, and by the way she clenched her jaw Draco knew he was in for it. Surprisingly, though, Kate just sat down and snapped at him to fetch the picnic basket.

Draco took his wand out and cried, "Accio," grinning when the basket came flying his way. They ate in silence. From the look in her deep blue eyes Kate's mind was somewhere else. Or on someone else.

"I'm done now," Kate said, and she stood and stretched. "Is the water in that lake sanitary?"

"I believe so," Draco replied, and he watched as she rolled down the hill. Her pale green robes and reddish-brown hair were combined in a whirlwind effect, and Draco had the mad urge to roll alongside her.

Kate stopped rolling halfway down the hill and Draco jogged to join her. "Roll with me," she said as he stood over her. "It's the only way to get down a hill."

Draco smirked and shook his head. "No thanks. I'll stick to walk-AH!" Kate had grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him down to the grassy hillside before continuing to roll down, pulling him with her. When they reached the bottom of the hill Draco's dark gray robe had many a grass stain on it and his hair was terribly mussed and out of place.

"Now wasn't that fun?" Kate asked, standing and dusting herself off. Draco just muttered a few nasty words and shrugged. "Well, I'm going swimming," Kate declared.

"Don't you need a swimsuit for that?" Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh, a slip's just as good as any suit," Kate replied, throwing her robes over her head. Draco studied her body, clad in a corset and overdress, for only a moment. It saw a shame she wasn't as lovely as her sisters. What he wouldn't give to be marrying that Marlene instead...

"WATCH OUT DRACO!"

Kate's cry alerted the young Mr. Malfoy, but not quickly enough. A wave of cold water doused him as Kate's body hit the water. Sopping wet, Draco shot up. His normally pale skin was flushing a frightful pink, but all Kate could do was laugh heartily.Â

"You look like a wet rat!" she cried, grinning at him. Draco shot her a venomous look.

"How...dare...you!" he hissed through clenched teeth. Kate's smile faltered. "My god, what a mess you are," he continued. "You have no class, no talents, and definitely," he drew out the word, "no beauty. Comparing you to your older sisters is like comparing my father's purebred Irish Setters with that runt my mother likes to keep around. Or comparing this rose," he tore a white rose off a nearby plant, "to this weed," he indicated a scraggly weed that grew in abundance around the lake.

He glanced at Kate's face and knew instantly he had stepped over the line. With a look like a beaten puppy Kate dove down into the depths of the murky lake. Draco cursed to himself before running to the edge of the water. It had been a good three minutes and she hadn't yet surfaced. Something was wrong. Removing his robes, watch, and ring, Draco took a running start and dove gracefully into the water.

***

Never in her life had she been so cold. She opened her mouth to breath but water rushed in, causing her to choke and sink deeper into the dark depths of the lake. Kate kicked and flailed, trying to reach the surface, where a flicker of light shimmered. But it was no use. The small claws that ripped her slip dragged her down deeper.

A panicking fear began to take over Kate...If only she hadn't dove directly into that swarm of grindylows...If only she hadn't swam away from Draco. She'd give anything to be with him right now. She'd forgive him for everything he'd ever done to her if she could just be above water.

Kate wondered how everyone would take it when she died...Ron, would he cry? Would her own mother cry, for that matter? And what about Draco? Would he regret anything he had done to her? Maybe he would feel as if he had sent her to her death...Maybe she'd be a ghost, and she could haunt him forever.

But all the maybes were driven from Kate's frightened mind when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist and a mighty kick sent half the grindylows flying. The other half attached themselves to the person--Draco?--and, before much more could happen, some bubbles escaped from Kate's lips and she fell into a deep unconsciousness.

***

Draco beat off the last of the grindylows and shot for the top of the water. He was slowed down, though, by Kate's body. Just a few seconds ago she had grown much limper and much heavier, and he didn't want to think about what that could mean. He broke the surface and gulped a deep breath of air. It stung his lungs, but he was too worried to notice. Paddling over to the shore of the lake, Draco pulled himself and Kate as far out of the water as he could manage.

The only thing that kept him from collapsing was the image of standing over Kate's casket with her whole family staring at him with accusing eyes. Draco stared at Kate for a moment. Her skin was paler than was healthy and her eyes were shut. Her lips were turning blue and, upon running his thumb across her cheek, Draco found that Kate felt...cold...too cold.

In the end, Draco never knew how he saved her, or if it was even him that brought Kate back to life. He wasn't a muggle and knew nothing of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He also knew very little on revival spells, and so it was anyone's guess as to how he knew to use a shocking spell. Pressing his wand to Kate's chest, Draco whispered, "Offendo!"

A powerful surge of electricity shot through Kate's body, and her limbs flailed out in response. But she still didn't awaken. Draco tried the spell again, and again, and again, until there was a spluttering sound and Kate began to cough up water. Draco gave a loud whoop of joy and swept her into his arms before remembering the terms that they had last parted on. He tried to set her down carefully, but found that Kate had wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, lord...Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry! Oh...Thank you!" Kate sobbed, and her whole body began to tremble, despite the warmth of the afternoon.

"Stop crying, Kate," Draco whispered, and for one short moment he rested his lips in her hair, but only for a moment. He took one of her shaking hands and squeezed it gently. Kate stopped crying and looked at him, and in her eyes Draco saw her heart open a tiny bit. And, seeing that, he allowed his heart to do the same.

Maybe he could come to love Kaitlyn Lowell.

***

Tinkerbell sighed. "That's all I can tell tonight," she said, smiling sadly at the three children surrounding her. "Go and get a good night's sleep."

With much grumbling and mumbling, Ana, Rey, and Liza moved towards their beds. Once under the covers Tinkerbell dimmed the lights and sat down on the table. Ana lay awake, tossing and turning, her mind reeling with the new information from that evening. Why had 'aunt Peggy' treated her so cruelly if she was in fact her own flesh and blood?

It was just another mystery to add to the many puzzlements that had plagued her mind for so long. Suppressing the fierce desire to storm Davies Manor and question Mrs. Davies on the matter Ana rolled over and fell asleep. From the table Tinkerbell watched her with a sadness in her heart so deep that tears began to roll down her pale cheeks. In a short period of time that young girl, so small and scrawny, would be faced with a challenge so great that it would likely kill her.

No one but the small faerie knew what lied in store for the young Lowell girl and her friends, and not even Tinkerbell knew what would happen if the three of them were to parish. Nor did she try to. The idea was just that awful.