Thirteen days.

Thirteen days had passed since the origin of the hideous scar that marred her flawless skin. She sat in the same hunched position, hands folded, bright blue eyes, beautiful blue eyes, fixed on the same unremarkable spot on the wall, with her thin pink lips, through which only one word had passed. No.

"Mum, she hasn't moved."

"Aberforth," his ragged mother begged, her undone bun falling un-ladylike past the collar of her nightgown, "not now."

Kendra too, had not varied from her dedicated position at the side of her ailing daughter. Her beautiful Ariana. Her contrasting dark eyes continued to scour the blank expression of her daughter. Always catching on the sight of the scar that ran along her right cheek. Following sadly down the cowering line of her daughter's spine where her fists sat stubbornly in her lap, ashamed and so very frightened of what they had done.

The room was dark, except for the window to let in the now dying down breeze. All others had been drawn shut, to halt Ariana's fits and claims that they could all see her, that they were all watching. So the three sat in darkness, as if the sun had not risen in the last two weeks.

The shiny wood floors had fallen dusty and dull from neglect, scuffed from the passing of Albus and Aberforth as they roamed about the eerie house. The many knick knacks her eldest had collected and sometimes created over the years had been stowed away, along with their wands, anything magical that might upset Ariana. It seemed all she wanted was to erase her heritage, now her self-endowed damnation.

"Abe, honey?" she called over her shoulder gently, her voice held at a safe volume to avoid upsetting her daughter.

Kendra turned around to see him stretched out peacefully on the sofa, legs hanging over the arm rest in his extreme height for such a young age. Relief fell over her as her face spread into a soft smile, her first in days. He needed some rest, the poor thing. Sometimes she thought he had to have the biggest heart of anybody she had ever met. Even before Ariana had taken ill…he had always been the extra pair of eyes watching over their youngest, best friends since her first day home from St. Mungo's.

Oh my, that heat's unbearable.

"Albus…Al?" her voice escalated carefully as she began to fan her perspiring neck, "close that window dear, the heat is terrible."

Panic entered her tone as she saw her daughter's face flush also, "Albus now!"

With a slam the window flew shut, as he flicked his wand from the yard where he had, "gone to get some fresh air like a normal person." She shook her head at his lack of respect for wizarding law, which he ought to have learned the authority of quite well considering the Ministry's last visit..however he was not her focus.

Her face instead snapped to her daughter's, whose eyes were finally jerked from their non blinking stare…and now fixed with terror at the window where she had detected the subtle sparks remaining from the enchantment. And for the first time in almost a fortnight, she moved. Watching her it seemed foreign and unnatural for her emaciated body.

She leaped from the wooden kitchen chair she had retired to, landing with her face still fixed on the offensive window. She began a kind of crab crawl backwards, retreating with clumsiness, scrambling with despair to safety as she clawed at the perfectly manicured wooded floors. Expelling grunts of horror and slipping onto her elbows with echoing thumps more often than not, she wriggled away madly with the same frightened expression.

Her noises became louder and more violent when her mother jumped to her feet, stutters finally amounting to the expected howl of, "nn, nnno, n-NO!"

Her whole body shook as she curled into a tight ball, tears tracing their well learned trails down those still very plump cheeks, now trembling with the rest of her. Her head bumped the wall as she adjusted into even a smaller space, now squirming to fit under the chair, still shaking her head as stubbornly as the first time they tried handing her a wand.

Kendra stood helpless, fists clenched in fury as she saw the tear that caught in the trench, that damn scar, those boys, those Muggles had left.

Suddenly the pillow atop Ariana's makeshift shelter exploded in a wave of fabric and feathers, covering her in the aftermath. In a frustrated rage she clawed at the skin her magic had touched, sobbing uncontrollably now as she attempted to scrape the trace of it from her body.

By this point angry tears had found their way from Kendra's eyes as she watched her daughter self-destruct. In slow motion it seemed, Abeforth swept in, hair still knotted and pushed to the side from his nap, and wrapped his prematurely caring arms around the flailing girl.

Ariana resisted to the best of her ability, but her small size and decreased strength allowed for an easy overpowering. Still moaning in protest she rested her aching head into his clawed chest. Bruises were already showing on her stick thin arms, and scratches covered every part of her leg visible from her upset nightgown.

And Aberforth simply rocked his little sister, the one who still loved to run and play and talk and fly small items across the room when Mother wasn't looking. Back and forth they erased what had happened and promised, with as much hope as they could muster, together that perhaps they could regain that.

Sniffling into his shoulder, and probably wiping a good deal onto it as well, Ariana sighed, closing her eyes for the first time in days as she fell asleep with his name on her breath.


Shaking with relief, exhaustion and the remaining fear from the outburst, Kendra went to the chest by the fireplace and removed a large blanket. Abe had already swept Ariana up off the floor and onto the couch, pillows firmly behind her head.

Kendra reached her arm around her son's shoulder tightly and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

"Thank you son," she whispered into his hair.

"Go get some sleep Mother," he advised, that captivating smile in his tired eyes, "I'll stay with her."

With that permission she stumbled down the hall and turned into the guest bedroom. Aberforth, grimaced slightly at the continued avoidance of his parents' bedroom that had followed his father's arrest. He then gently nudged his sister further into the crevice of the cushions to make room for himself, before lying down to finally rest in his rightful place beside her.

A/N: So hey guys *sheepish grin*. I kind of disappeared…for a year or so. But upon rereading the beginning of DH…ideas and inspiration flooded and I decided to take it out on my please let me know if it was a good idea : ).