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Serendipity and the fallen seraphim	By : Gemma Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1373 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
"O fairest of creation, last and best
Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled
Whatever can to sight or thought be formed,
Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!
How art thou lost, how on a sudden lost,
Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote?"

I can still remember the tiny, beaded drop of water that made a straight, determined path down my windowpane on the morning of the day that changed my life. That changed everything I thought I knew, and opened my eyes to facts which I had long denied, or coerced myself into forgetting.

I had awoke to a bright cheerful sun, who's sunbeam fingers had trailed lazily across my eyes until at last I woke to greet his yellow smiling face, pushing back the curtains in order to worship him, if only for a second.

It was then that I noticed the single droplet, the only remaining bead of condensation still whole and liquid, making its path down the now warming glass of my window.

I turned sleep heavy blue eyes to its endeavour, and wondered at the fate of self-destination. Too long had this thought lain heavy on my head, and after the events of the night before, now the conundrum felt more pressing, and held my thoughts more acutely.

I could still feel a warmth and heat between my legs, at the very core of me, and a languid blissfulness coloured my every move and gesture, yet still I wondered how I had arrived at this point.

My virginity had been taken, oh so gently, by a man who I had worshipped as an angel for so many years. Since I was a small child, with golden hair and laughing eyes, my heart too full of innocence and cheer to clearly see the world for what it was, I had fantasised about a fallen seraphim; an almost-god, a being so defiant that he brought his own demise, turned away from an all pervading love due to a pride that burned and ate at him, and who's cast was reformed to that of a devil.

That was who I thought of. That was who I ached for. And that was who I had come to love. Lucifer. Lucius. The angel who had haunted me always.

Had this path been chosen for me? Being such a feature, such a mystifying presence in my life, could I have made the decision to turn away from him and his heat? Or was I never anything but an innocent, powerless moth drawn to his scalding flame, that makes no pretense and only whispers on licking tongues of fire that 'you will be consumed'?

I slid out of bed and prepared for the school day with a mind that was turned to musing on destiny, the philosophical notion of dependant origination, and the troops of angels that were said to watch over us always. Whilst my body remembered his fiery touch, his gentle caress, and his passionate kisses.

It was during breakfast that the fall began. Had I started all this when I felt his burning lips touch mine? Or had it been the day Susanna sat me on her lap and I learned of the folly of angels and man?

I had been laughing, I remember that. Laughing with Draco, one hand resting on his upper arm, his grey-blues eyes on my face, and a lightness in my heart. I had looked at his smiling face, his high cheekbones and his jaw which was so like his father's, and I had thought at that moment that I could grow to love him. That I could learn to love him as a friend and hold him as an ally.

Were we so very different? The events of the night before made me think not, and oh how I longed for a friend who could understand my need for heat, for trembling fear, for a passion that shook me and made me pause to cry out, to scream up at the skies, and to feel. Oh to feel that scalding heat. And who better to understand than a Malfoy?

It was when I was laughing, head thrown back joyously, short hair just brushing the back of my neck and sliding over my cheekbones in a black cascade, that I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder.

For one insane, hysterical and crystal clear moment, I wondered if I would turn to see Uriel standing there, his fiery sword drawn, ready to plunge it into my heart and burn away my sin.

But when I twisted my body around it was not the archangel who fought so valiantly for god who stood there. No, it was Professor Snape, and the look on his face plunged me into a freezing cold.

Unconsciously I had reached out a hand for Draco, and I looked down to see our fingers entwined. I blinked back tears at the simple beauty of that image, standing on trembling legs, and whispering to him that 'all will be well', though perhaps this was more to myself than his troubled, angry face that turned to scowl up at Snape, who merely stood there that same haunting expression striking abject terror into my quaking heart.

Released from Draco's grip, my fingers seemed suddenly numb with ice, and I followed Snape on legs that threatened to mutiny. Reaching the dining room door, I turned briefly, taking in the grand splendour of the place. The long tables surrounded by children of all ages, chatting and laughing together; one large, functioning community of like minded individuals. And oh, did it matter if some were Slytherins and others were Gryffindors? Did it matter if the Hufflepuffs were often less intellectually bright, whilst the Ravenclaws' minds were sharp as pointed swords?

How could it, for this school had bred a family that stretched back for endless generations. And I had been a part of it.

I swallowed the granite hard rock that had risen to my throat, feeling as it moved to settle in my chest. Looking at my fellow pupils, seeing them as I never had before, I realised that I was standing on a metaphorical cliff. Behind me, seated so innocently between these laughing children was my childhood, it's face shining with youth, it's body free with joyous abandon, and it's mind so open and clear.
Whilst before me, through the door that Snape held open for me, was my future; a huge, dropping cliff which threatened me with the jagged rocks of knowledge, truth and the ability to see the world for what it is; not what I so longed it to be.

I took a breath, and the air trembled all the way down. Then gathering my strength, I followed Snape to Dumbledore's study, my hands shaking so terribly that my wholes arms vibrated with the fear I could barely suppress.

Helped into a seat, Snape's hands gentle and subtle in their assistance, Dumbledore turned his wise blue eyes to mine, more serious than I had ever seen them, and he began to speak.

They were dead. My parents. Dead. I knew they were Death Eaters of course, but now here was the proof. Killed in a raid. Or more accurately, they both drank a potent poison, death preferred to the horrors of Azkaban. They had been found together, hands held in a grip so tight that their knuckles were white, their eyes closed peacefully as if they were sleeping, dreaming of the beauty and wealth they held so dear.

I sat there and I listened, and the cliff beneath me crumbled away in large slabs of rock that battered me as they fell, pulling me down with them and plunging me into an abyss.

And then Dumbledore spoke one name, and gentle arms wrapped around me, wings beat a heavy tattoo in the air, and I was being lifted up, soaring towards the clouds, my face numb with the bitterness and twisted beauty of it all.

Lucius Malfoy was applying for my adoption. Lucius Malfoy would be coming to collect me this evening. Would I be able to cope until then?

I stared at Dumbledore's wrinkled, pleasant face, feeling as the flame within me flickered and burned, unable to be extinguished now that it had been brought to such a vibrant life.

I'm sure I nodded. I'm sure I said all the right things, the 'thank yous', the 'yes, I can do that', the 'yes, I want to see the bodies.'

The bodies. Oh god. I closed my eyes then, turning my face away so that they couldn't see the naked pain that tore at me, and the knowledge that at that minute was eating at my soul.

For I was glad that Lucius was able to make me officially his. Glad that events had transpired to make this happen.

Oh how far we fall. How far, and oh how very hard.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Serendipity and the fallen seraphim