Beyond This Place of Wrath and Tears

Beyond This Place of Wrath and Tears
Chapter One
Miles to Go Before I Sleep

The whole of London was before sixteen-year-old Arual Rasa. Her long, blonde hair was lightly sprinkled with the falling snow of the January morning. A drop of dew fell from her long lashes into her eyes, waking her from her slumber. She grudgingly got up from her usual bench in Hyde Park and stretched her pale limbs. She stood slowly, drawing in a breath. The winter air caught in her lungs, bringing about a coughing fit. She was hardly the only one affected by the cold. She was surrounded by the paupers of London: the poor, the outcast, the vagabonds. In an odd way, she did not fit in with them – but even odder she did. This was not her first winter spent in the park.

After her second winter spent at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, her professors began to question why she never went home. She came up with stories of her parents vacationing in the Alps alone and promised to return to them for her third Christmas. As her parents were long since out of the picture, this was not an option. Her first winter was brutal. Only fourteen, she wandered the city, an easy target. She knew the city well from her summers spent homeless; however she had not counted on the weather when vowing to leave the castle. She returned famished and suffering from consumption. Now older and wiser, she knew how to handle herself.

Arual wrapped her long, green velvet cloak around herself. Raised as a Muggle, she knew how to play the part. Beneath her cloak, she wore thermals under her dark blue jeans and baggy long-sleeved grey shirt. Over her shirt, she wore a thick black sweatshirt that was far too large for her petite frame. Her black gloves lined with white fox fur matched her scarf and boots. On her back, she carried a small satchel full of even smaller objects, shrunken by magic.

Wiping the snow from her clothes, Arual looked down to the man below her bench. She stifled a yawn before greeting him properly. “Morning, Skip. What’s new in the world?” Her face remained frozen, despite the blood pumping through her veins.

A graying man of about sixty glared at her as he lowered his newspaper. “‘Ell if I know, this pap’s three days old.” His harsh cockney accent assured nobody spoke to him. Arual, however, was more than nobody. She saw through his gruff exterior, thickened by a lifetime on the streets. They were not friends; neither trusted the other enough to call it friendship. They were more or less allies banding together to brave the elements. They were the outcast outcasts, both hated by their park mates.

Arual was not one to spend time in the company of others. She grew up alone and intended to keep it that way. She knew but one facial expression: blank. Her soft features never conveyed any sort of emotion. Her eyes were in no way a window to her soul. When she spoke, words flowed off her tongue in monotone.

Without words, Arual followed Skip to the best dumpsters in town. When Arual first ate from one, she was forced to share food with rats the size of small dogs. The food was never worth the effort of prying it from a rabid rat’s mouth. Her best find consisted of a moldy Pop-tart. With Skip’s assistance, she now knew where to find small mice more than willing to share their day-old lunch meat and vegetables. It was a good morning for dumpster diving. The icy atmosphere assured that the lunch meat was still partly edible. Arual thought it was like living in a refrigerator.

Skip’s primary reason for keeping Arual around was her uncanny ability to do the inexplicable. He watched in awe as she started a fire with neither matches nor lighters. Arual did not disappoint, suddenly shaking a coffee can full of snow and lunch meat over a roaring fire. Skip foraged through the garbage hunting for vegetables. He emerged several minutes later with three potatoes and a sliver of squash. It was not gourmet, it was not tasty, but it kept them alive.

After breakfast, Arual led the way to a homeless shelter. Ignoring the pamphlets of God Almighty, she walked straight to the women’s showers. Skip, naturally, went to the men’s side. Arual waited for a young girl and her mother exit before warding the doors. She dropped her bag and undressed. She walked in front of the dingy mirror and stared at herself under the florescent lights. The winter hadn’t been too bad, only a few bruises were visible on her pale form.

Arual ran the water, flicking it hot with her wand. The young woman stepped under the flow and let it run over her, washing the dirt of the days away. Never bothering to carry bottles and bottles of hair care products in her time away from Hogwarts, Arual magically produced all she needed from the tip of her wand. Soon her body was again a temple. Stepping out of the stall, she wrapped up in a towel from her bag. She patiently cast drying charms on her long locks and cleansing spells on her winter garments. Redressing, she exited to meet Skip.

Skip, though clean, still looked frightful as ever. Arual spent hours in the past trying to teach him proper hygiene, but to no avail. She deduced long ago that he was an old dog that could not be taught new tricks. She wasn’t his master anyway, offered him no cookie for washing up. With a grunt in Arual’s direction, Skip walked off, his companion following fast.

There wasn’t much to do in winter London without a job or place to call home. The worst days were the ones with snow pouring down. It was a decent day, only a few clouds marring the otherwise serene sky. Skip wasn’t one for conversation, but then again neither was Arual, so the pair walked in silence. The sun, now high overhead, beat down on the duo, giving them reason to hunt for shade.

Without a compass, Arual managed to lead them to a frozen stream at the edge of town. Red berries colored the white landscape. Skip took off his beanie and filled it with the fruits, bringing them to Arual. Arual pulled a loaf of stale bread from her satchel, handing a piece to skip and spreading berries on her own slice. Normally, the park’s berries bore poison, but Arual learned a charm from Professor Sprout to eat them without sickness. Skip, blissfully unaware, ate with a charmed stomach.

After lunch, Skip pulled out what was left of his weekly cigar. Once a week, he disappeared for a few hours and came back with a fine Cuban. He held it to Arual for a light, who obliged with a glare. “Those are bad for you, you know.”

Skip barked, “So’s liv’n on the streets, but chu don’ see me complainin’, do yeh?” Skip intentionally blew smoke rings around her head. Arual dispersed the smoke with a wave of her gloved hand. In the distance, the buzz of the Red Light district could be heard. Skip rolled his eyes in disgust. Arual’s face remained blank and cold as ever. “Some un really ought ter shut them up. Ain’t nobody wanna hear tha’.”

Arual wrapped her cloak around herself, warming his body with her hands. “I don’t particularly care what whores and pimps do, provided they keep me out of it.” Never even kissed, Arual had absolutely no desire to sell herself, no matter what the offer.

A high pitched laugh came from a nearby bush. A half-naked woman in her teens emerged with pouty red lips and several dollar bills shoved into her tank top. Rising next to her was a tall, muscular man in his thirties. They smelled strongly of alcohol and smoke. He stood, brushing the dirt from his pants and straightening his zipper. The two mumbled to each other too softly for the vagrants to hear. Skip gave them a nasty glance as they walked toward the stream. Arual watched as the man lit a cigarette for his whore and smoked one himself. The young witch was glad she didn’t have to resort to such means for survival. She was grateful to have found Skip.

After the man caressed the teenager’s exposed cleavage, Skip had seen enough. He put out his cigar, returning it to his pocket. “Filth, tha’s what they are. Should a’ leas get a ‘otel room!” Arual raised a finger to silence his ranting, but it was too late. The muscles headed their way.

He was not a handsome man. It was only too obvious why he had to hire love. His face cluttered with scars, his muscles ripped, the man filled Arual’s chest with foreboding. “You got something to say to me, old man?” Arual swiftly stood up before her companion, blocking the men’s view. “Move it, little girl, this old geezer has something to say to me.” But Arual did not move. She held her head high, staring the ugly man straight in the eyes.

For the first time the young prostitute spoke. Her voice was soft and sad. “You’d better do what he says. You don’t want any trouble.” Arual was not looking for trouble; she was not looking for a fight; yet somehow a fight found her. The muscled man smacked her out of the way, sending her and his whore sailing to the stream. It didn’t take long for Arual to recover from the blow. She did nothing to help the lifeless girl at her side. Skip needed her.

The man held Skip by the throat, choking the breath from his withered old chest. Arual grabbed a stone, launching it at the man’s head. His grip on Skip loosened, but not enough to drop him. He gave a hard squeeze and tossed the senior into a tree. He rounded on Arual, but she was ready, wand concealed in her glove. The man didn’t understand why his knife flew from his bulging fist, nor did he understand why his face began to bleed. Arual did not stay to explain, grabbing Skip and running for the woods.

With Skip thrown over her shoulders, Arual hunted for a safe place. She found a thick patch of trees that would neither let light in nor out. She gently lay down her patient on a large root. Cursing aloud, she pulled out her wand. With a quick, “Lumos,” she set to work. She ran her wand over his organs one by one, checking for bleeding. She was relieved to find everything internally intact.

“It’s dangerous for a young, pretty thing such as you to wander so far into the woods unprotected,” came a silky voice from the background. Arual knew that voice all too well. It froze her dead in her tracks. Her wand lost its glow, sending the trees back to the dark.

Arual tilted her head, listening. Finally she heard a twig snap and ignited her wand, standing fast. “Professor Snape. Good to see you.” The black-clad Potion’s Master stepped into her light, a sinister look evident across his pallid features. Their eyes locked, Arual trying so very hard to maintain her calm. “It’s lovely to see you, but as you can see, I am otherwise occupied. I will see you in class next week.”

Severus laughed at her coolly. “Put that wand away, you’re underage.” Arual glared at him but returned to her work with Skip. She kneeled down, examining the wounds on his face. Severus quickly leapt to her, snatching her wand. “I said, you’re underage. Perhaps you are too dim-witted to understand the concept of underage magic prohibited outside of Hogwarts?”

Arual glared straight into his coal black eyes. “Can you not see that my companion is wounded and in need of immediate medical care? Give back my wand, I need it. Some things are more important than Ministry rules.” She would not let Skip die because she could, in theory, be punished. She’d done far more magic than simple healing spells without the Ministry’s knowledge.

Severus smirked at his pupil. She was indeed foolish. “What makes you think I care what he needs? Furthermore, you wouldn’t even know where to start in healing even the smallest of wounds.”

Arual clenched her fists but showed no trace of emotion. “Really? Perhaps you would like to show me?” Severus pocketed her wand and turned away. “Well, I suppose it’s all right if you don’t know either. I would appreciate some help moving him to a Muggle that can help.”

Severus rounded on her. “Do you mean to imply a Muggle can do something I cannot?” Arual simply shrugged, moving to Skip’s cold body. He drew his own wand, lighting the three. His eyes narrowed as he caught on. “How naïve do you think me to be? You’re trying to trick me into healing this Muggle because you can’t.”

Arual stepped over Skip and put her face an inch away from Severus’s. “Look, Snape, either you help him or I will, wand or not.” The dark man met her glare full on, engaging her in a staring contest of wills. Arual was not the only one surprised when she won.

Severus hissed as he spoke. “Don’t be stupid, you can’t do anything without me or a wand.”

Arual glared menacingly. “Yeah? Watch and learn.” She kneeled down and began murmuring her own spells. Slowly, Skip’s wound began to close, blood drying in his mustache.

Severus remained willingly blind to her powers, refusing to let himself be shown up by a sixteen-year-old student. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he snarled. “I’ll do it.” With a few flicks and waves of his wand, Skip was waking up. Arual walked to Severus, reaching for her wand. Severus wouldn’t let it go, wrapping his hand around hers, squeezing it. He wanted her to beg, wanted her to cry, but knew she wouldn’t. After a decent struggle, Arual regained her wand and turned her back on Severus in favor of helping Skip stand.

Severus walked behind her, whispering in her ear. “You don’t really think I’m letting you go, do you?” Severus cast a Silencing Charm on Arual, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck. He dragged her out of the woods and into an Apparition area. Once in front of Hogwarts, Severus released her flesh and held her cloak. Letting go of her when they arrived at his private office, Severus began to question her. “Now, Miss Rasa, would you care to tell me why you were alone in the woods with a potentially dangerous vagabond?”

Arual straightened her clothes with a defiant look of hatred. “No, Professor, I would not like to tell you why I was healing a harmless old man.”

Severus was already running on a very short fuse and in no mood for Arual’s cocky attitude. “I am your professor, and I demand you answer me or else.”

“Or else what?” Arual rolled her eyes at his threat. “School is not in session, therefore I am not required to obey you or your orders.” She turned towards the door but stopped at his serious tone.

“You followed me to the castle and are now under my care. Answer me now or suffer the consequences.” Severus had no idea how he would punish this girl, but he would think of that later.

“I did not follow you, Snape. I was dragged.” Arual said in an accusatory voice. Already furious at him for making her leave London, she did not want to deal with his condescending attitude.

“You menacing little chit, it is Professor Snape to you.” Severus’s eyes gleamed with anger. “No matter the circumstances, you are now here and will do as I say.” He crossed his arms and waited for an answer.

“What precisely would you like me to do?” Arual continued in a sing song voice, annoying him further. “Do you want an essay entitled, ‘How I Spent My Winter vacation?’?”

Severus rounded on the young girl. “I am not a man to be toyed with, you insolent child! Being the child that you are, should you not have been in the Alps with your parents, as per usual?”

“Are you so naïve that you actually believed that story true?” Arual mocked him as his nostrils flared. She knew he was about to burst, so she continued. “I have never been to the Alps, nor have I ever been to visit my parents.”

“So, you admittedly lied to me?” Severus smirked in victory as he went on. “That is quite the crime at this school. I should report you to the Headmaster.” With an arrogant swagger, Severus walked to the door, but Arual stepped in front of it just as he reached for the handle.

Arual had to think fast; she couldn’t allow Dumbledore to know she hadn’t been going to see her parents. It would completely obliterate her reputation. She proceeded with caution, carefully choosing her words while trying to keep her face blank. “I don’t think you need to involve Professor Dumbledore. He has quite enough on his mind without hearing of your snooping.”

Severus sensed her underlying concern and played upon it, torturing her. “No, I think he must be alerted immediately. If you’ll move, I can be on my way.” Severus pushed her aside to no avail. She stopped him with her hand.

“Then we disagree. I, however, happen to be right. You know it, too.” Arual was surprised by her own bravery. Years ago, she would have begged for his forgiveness and done anything to get it. She was, however, no longer a frightened first-year, afraid of going back from whence she came. She could handle drunken muscled men and prostitutes – a professor was easy.

Still playing on his student’s concern, Severus wrapped his long, pale fingers around Arual’s small hand. He turned her around so her back was touching his chest, pinning her arm behind her. With his spare hand, he ran his fingers through her golden locks. His rough fingertips ran along her cheek and down her neck, stopping just above her breasts. He leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear. “Then you will need to find a way to buy my silence. As I know you’ve no money, we must decide on an alternate method of payment.”

Arual ripped herself from his grasp and spun around to face him, her murderous glare rivaling Lord Voldemort’s. “What are you implying, Professor?” She put her hands on her hips as a mother does when a child has broken a rule.

Severus smirked and moved closer to her once more. He lifted his fingers to her chin, but she pushed them away. Annoyed, he spat his words out. “Are you so naïve that I need to spell it out for you?” When Arual said nothing, Severus took her silence for consent. He ran his hand along her side from breast to thigh.

Arual again pushed his hand away. “Apparently.” Severus’s face turned icy as his eyes flashed. “Or perhaps you do not wish to vocalize your obscene request?”

Severus raised a hand to hit her but quickly pulled away and sneered. “You,” he spat, “are insufferable.”

Arual came as close to smiling as she ever did. “Thank you.” She knew it wasn’t a compliment, but she wanted him to feel as trapped and annoyed as she.

“Have you no interest whatsoever in saving yourself from certain expulsion?” Severus was positive he had won, so he again moved forward.

Arual took a step back, barely missing the dungeon wall. “I have no interest in fearing something that will never come to pass.” After a moment’s silence, she went on. “Since I have turned down your first offer, will you select another method of so-called ‘payment?’?”

Severus was quickly running out of words, so he returned to insults. “You are a stupid, foolish schoolgirl, and I have already warned you not to play games with me.”

Arual sensed his confidence shattering. She saw his loss as her gain, growing more powerful with every word. “And I have already warned you to select another method of payment.”

Severus could no longer contain his anger. Violently he shoved Arual into the stone wall. After her rough encounter, the pain was almost too much, but she refused to let her eyes water. She stared him directly in the eyes, provoking him. “For your lying and insolence, you will serve one month of nightly detentions.”

Arual had to stop herself from laughing: she expected much worse. “So be it. When do I report to Filch?”

Severus’s own laugh was more of a low, mirthful cackle than anything else. He moved forward, pinning Arual’s hands tightly above her head. Though his sneer and actions startled her, she did not blink. “No, no, no, you will not have it so easy. All of your detentions, including weekends, will be with me. I should warn you, I’m a very unpleasant man to spend an evening with.”

Peering directly into his black gaze, Arual spoke, her tongue dripping with venom. “You are a very unpleasant man to spend any amount of time with. In fact, you are just an unpleasant man.”

Severus pulled her wrists forward and slammed then against the wall, drawing blood from the back of her hands. “You bitch!” he shouted. “I guarantee, by the end of the first week, you will be begging to take me up on my original offer.”

Arual’s entire body ached, but she could not let herself falter. She raised her eyebrows, amused. “Begging for you, Professor? I’ll be begging?”

Severus again threw her hands against the wall, this time bringing her head with them. “Begging like a pitiful dog. Begging like the slut you undoubtedly are, living in a park in London when you should be safe in bed.” He paused and smirked. “My bed.”

Arual shoved him off, pulling her bloody hands down from the wall. After examining her wounds, she faced Severus. “Is that a bet, Professor?”

Severus nearly laughed at her boldness. She was begging already. “Indeed. What would you like to wager? Have we both something the other wants?”

Arual took her turn at moving forward. She tilted her head to one side when she was inches from his face. She, too, ran her fingers through his hair. She was surprised that it was soft instead of greasy, as she had always assumed. “We both know what you’re after.” She licked her lips seductively as she pulled away, caressing his neck as she did so. “As for what I want… I want no further detention after said week has ended. I also desire complete secrecy as to my whereabouts on breaks.”

Severus considered her proposition before answering, feeling he had nothing to lose. He never intended on sharing her secret, the blackmail possibilities were far too promising. “I accept, we have a bet. As far as your breaks are concerned, you are sorely mistaken if you think I will let you out of my sight between terms.”

Arual frowned in concentration. She looked up into his eyes. “Shall we add it to the bet, then?”

Suddenly aware that she was asking for too much, Severus decided two could play that game. “Three conditions for you and but one for me? What would be my incentive in that? What do I get in return?”

Arual had to think fast once more. She half-smiled at Severus before dropping to her knees in front of him. She ran her hands up and down his trousers before looking into his eyes. Licking her lips before she spoke, she felt his reaction pushing into her face. “Anything you want, sir.” Without another word, Arual stood up and walked to her dorm room, leaving Severus to attend to his arousal alone.

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Author’s Note: Hey guys! I know I haven’t written anything in a while, but I’ve been super busy. Thanks for taking the time to read this. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Thanks go out to my Creative Writing Professor, Susan Aguila, for being my beta. Also, a special thank you to Amethyst for teaching me so much about writing so long ago and inspiring me to take a few writing classes. This chapter’s title is from Robert Frost’s Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. The title, Beyond This Place of Wrath and Tears, is from William Henley’s poem Invictus. Please take the time to read it, it’s only sixteen lines. The more the story develops, the more important that poem becomes. Again, thanks for reading! ~QA




NOTE: I am not making any money with this story. JKR owns it all.