Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I have made up and their stories. JK Rowling and Stephenie Meyer own the rest.

The first thing I felt once I reached my destination was rain. I guess I should have expected that. Forks was known as one of the rainiest towns in all of America. It didn't bother me though. The rain was familiar. It was a constant in my life, being native to England and all.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. Forks may be just a little tiny speck on the world map but that didn't mean things couldn't happen. I needed to be aware of every single detail around me. Constant vigilance, my old Professor used to say, well, growl, that's more like it. I could most definitely not afford to be caught unawares. Yes, I may be a pretty talented witch, but I was by no means Hermione Granger. I'd never be able to wield my wand at such a speed as she could, not very easily anyway.

Turns out, I had landed in a small clearing. This was just great. I should have landed near my parent's new home, but luck was never really on my side. I grabbed my wand from its hiding place, my boot. Not very creative, I realize, but it's fast access. I found that hiding my wand in my sleeve would do me no good. It was a bit difficult to stick my hand far up it to retrieve my wand. And well, having it in my back pocket was a bit illogical. Greater witches and wizards than I have lost their buttocks due to their wand being in their back pocket. I rather like my butt cheeks.

"Point me," I whispered as I thought of my parent's home. The wand spun around in my hand until it pointed behind me. Well, I've found my way out. That's surely a cause for celebration.

I turned around and made my way out of the clearing. As soon as I reached the trees, the light drizzle of rain become pretty much non existent. I looked upwards, only to notice that the trees could rival the length of the Astronomy Tower. Jeez. How far into the forest was I exactly? The trees in the Forbidden Forest started out pretty tall but once you got deeper in, you could notice that the trees were significantly taller. They blocked out any light source that you could possibly think of. Maybe that's why the forest was so creepy looking. That, or the knowledge of the known and unknown creatures that reside in there.

I walked further into, or out, the forest. I honestly couldn't tell, all I knew was that my new home was this way. I could try and apparate again but look where that landed me the first time. My broom was out of the question. It was just a tiny bit conspicuous. That left walking as my only choice.

I made sure to cast a series of detection charms to make sure I was alone throughout my journey. Call me paranoid, but this could possibly save my life. There are still a few Death Eaters left that have evaded capture, and I have not given them any reason to ignore me. Quite the opposite actually. You would think being a Slytherin would protect me from the big, bad Death Eaters, but no. It mustn't be that easy.

You see, up until the time I turned 11 years old, I thought myself to be an average muggle. Well, not muggle per se, but just a regular young girl that was, unfortunately, about to hit puberty. That view of myself changed completely when I received a letter, by owl no less. The letter explained how I was a witch and how I was accepted into the only school for witchcraft and wizardry in all of Britain. Boy, did I feel special. My parents were in shock when I showed them, they were positive that it was all a hoax. It wasn't. My mum nearly died of shock when Professor McGonagall showed up on our doorstep with proof that I was actually magic.

McGonagall explained to us everything that we needed to know. All that was left to do was decide whether or not I would be attending Hogwarts. My parents were against it but McGonagall explained to them that we would need to be obliviated if I didn't attend. In the end, I wound up attending Hogwarts. I don't think my parents fancied the idea of having their memories modified.

That exact day, Professor McGonagall took me to Diagon Alley. I don't think my eyes were ever as wide as they were that day, especially at Ollivanders. We bought everything I needed for my first year at school, and then some. I had bought a few extra books that weren't necessarily essential for school, but as I didn't known anything about the world I was now a part of, I found it crucial to know as much as possible before I met anymore magic folk. I never did like being in the dark after all. Even though, I was never up for much reading, I spent the last few weeks up my break in my room, reading. By the time I finished, I knew quite a bit about the magical world. I was ready to go to Hogwarts.

The night of the start of term feast, I was beyond nervous. Actually, I thought I was going to begin spazzing right then and there, and then die of an anxiety attack. I felt as if my lungs were going to burst from lack of oxygen when my my name was called to be sorted. I walked up to the stool and placed the hat on my head. Hearing the hat's voice in my head caused me to jump nervously. I saw numerous students laughing quietly but I could honestly care less. After a few moments of deliberation, hat announced Slytherin. To say I was in shock was an understatement. Throughout my reading, I learned that there were never, and I put emphasis on the never, any muggleborns sorted into Slytherin. That was the moment when I knew that I had magical blood coursing through my veins. I always knew that my parents weren't my biological parents, but not once since receiving my letter did the thought of my parents being magic pass through my head.

My years at Hogwarts were pretty average, at least until seventh year. My housemates and I never associated much. Honestly, it was quite a relief that I wasn't friends with them. I never had to pretend that I hated the people that I loved. I hung out mostly with Ravenclaws. Slytherins were neutral with Ravenclaw as long as they weren't muggleborn. I'd hate to see what would have happened to me had I decided to associate with Gryffindors. I'd be basilisk chow, that's for sure. It wasn't as if the Gryffindors were lining up to be my friend anyway. I was a Slytherin, and therefore, an enemy.

I must have gave them the shock of their lives when I defended a young Hufflepuff in my seventh year. That was the year in which Hogwarts was officially infiltrated by the dark forces of evil. That being Voldemort and his spineless followers, the Death Eaters. The Carrows were Professors that year, and regardless of their half-blood status, they were all for pureblood supremacy. That meaning that they tortured anyone who didn't have the proper blood. There weren't any muggleborns in school that year though. They were all either captured or in hiding.

Slytherins were safe for the most part, even me. That didn't mean it wasn't hard for me. The Carrows expected us to help with detentions that were given to disobedient students. That meaning that we were supposed to torture them for a few hours of detention. I had no choice but to go along with it at first. As a Slytherin, my first instinct was self-preservation. They would kill me if I didn't go along with it, so I did. I put on my best evil smirk as I uttered just one word that would bring the most excruciating pain to its victim. I had never felt so in control in my life before. It sickens me to say that I actually enjoyed torturing those students. I felt powerful. Then, the Carrows brought in a young boy. He was just a first year. So small and innocent. He had dared to yell at Amycus Carrow during a Dark Arts class. The boy had told him that Harry Potter would save them. He would save all of them and Amycus would rot in Azkaban with his filthy sister, Alecto, for the rest of their pathetic lives. Amycus brought him to me, of all people, for his punishment. I couldn't do it. That was when I stopped feeling powerful, just ashamed. I outright refused to do it. He turned his wand on me, and for a second, I thought that would be my end. A red light hit me instead of the expected green, that was when I felt what made me feel powerful. I wanted to die. Not because of the pain, I deserved it, but because of what I made those poor students feel. I felt that if he were to change his mind and kill me, my death would be justified.

The Battle of Hogwarts took place two nights later. I sought redemption. After Parkinson's stupid comment, the Slytherin's were escorted out by Filch. I snuck away and hid until I could hear war cries outside. I ripped my Slytherin tie off and ran towards the Entrance Hall. There were bodies littering the grounds from both sides. I went around, stunning Death Eaters left and right until I got to Amycus Carrow. No one had noticed me until then. We fought for a long time. While not very smart, he was an excellent dueler. Mostly because he knew a lot of Dark curses that I was not aware of. Finally, I managed to stun him.

I fought a few other Death Eaters that night. The most memorable being Bellatrix Lestrange. I wasn't alone on that one though. Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger were up against her as well, the three of us just barely on Bellatrix's level all together. Although the killing curse was never sent my way, she managed to slice my skin using a severing charm. It's funny how a charm so simple can leave such lasting scars. That duel went to a closing when Bellatrix's killing curse nearly hit Ginny. After that, it all went downhill for Bellatrix. She died that night at the hands of Molly Weasley, but not after being called bitch. I guess there's nothing stronger than a mother-child bond.

The Battle of Hogwarts didn't end until the very earlier hours of May 2nd. We won. Voldemort was dead, but that didn't mean that it was safe to keep your guard down. Not all Death Eaters were captured. There were still innocent beings murdered every day at the hands of the few Death Eaters left. So that's Ariadne Ceccarelli's story. My story. But, seeing as I have yet to die, my story continues on.