Post by India Nightingale on Aug 25, 2008 11:39:50 GMT
((Continued from To Kill A Mockingbird.))
It was a big house. That much India could tell from the outside. Made of terracotta-red bricks and a squeaky clean grey slate roof, it looked like any other muggle house that India had so often seen around England. Madeline smiled brightly at her and Skye, though nervousness was evident in her eyes, as blue-green as their own, before turning the key in the lock and opening the door. India visibly tensed, only for Skye to touch her briefly on the arm and following their mother unhesitantly into the detached four-bedroom house. Observing Skye's furthering back doubtfully with some evident scepticism, India forced herself to follow suit, taking her first step into the place she would from now on call home. She felt a wave of fear and distrust seep into her bones, but she determinedly shook it off. If Skye could handle it then so could she.
Half an hour later India sat on her bed, in her room, staring out of her window at the idyllic countryside view on offer. She observed it expressionlessly, feeling a tinge of recollection of getting lost in the wilderness that day Duke had abandoned her. But now Duke was locked up in Azkaban and India was untouchable. She could breathe easy... she was safe. Eyes losing the shadowy gaze of reminiscing, India picked herself up and began sifting through her trunk, slowly removing clothes, toiletries, books... Her life from Scotland's castle, to the Hogwarts castle, and now a country house in the middle of nowhere on the Isle of Man. How things had changed.
"Come in," India said with a hollow voice when a knock came at the door. It opened to reveal the hesitant face of Madeline.
"How is everything, India?" she asked tentatively, as though a stinging answer would be a slap to the face - and she was expecting it. India wanted to despise her mother for it, but she couldn't.
"Fine." Her reply was like a robot's - automated and engineered... programmed. Madeline looked unconvinced but did not question her elder daughter, wisely choosing to retreat and leave India in peace. India allowed a long outward sigh - emotion was something she was learning to show and not bottle up - and continued hanging up her clothes in her new wardrobe. Her fingers trailed across her black leather jacket, feeling memories fill her insides. India was less reluctant to allow them access to her mind; she wasn't shutting them out any more, she wanted to know about her past, was hungry for it.
India and Skye explored the rest of the house with some interest. Every room was neatly furnished with plush carpets and spotless floorboards. (The twins' separate bedrooms were right beside each other and almost identical, save for India's pastel green walls and Skye's pale pink. India was glad that she and her sister did not have to share a room. She wasn't cold towards Skye any more, but it didn't mean she was completely comfortable sharing her space twenty-four seven. India and Skye were different people; both of them were aware of that.) The living room and dining room appeared spacious and cosy, perfect family areas. The kitchen was modern and convenient, with a smaller dining area leading out to a large, beautiful garden that even India was pleased with. She felt this could become 'home'... if it wasn't for the ever-uncomfortable presence of her mother. The mother who had been locked up by Duke in a dirty prison cell, alone and afraid, for almost seventeen years; the mother whose husband had been murdered by his best friend, by Duke, whom she had loved and trusted like a brother; the mother who had had her twin babies stolen from her at the age of six months and only met them again when they were already fully-fledged witches... adults... different people from those crying bundles of joy... and both her spitting image.
India could barely believe that just a few months ago she had lost her memory, had let Duke convince her name was Skye in order that she failed to regain any memories and remained eternally ignorant of the truth. Then she had stumbled from her bedroom prison to discover her mirror image - Skye - chained and speaking, and such a shock had caused everything to return to her, her memories, her feelings... She wasn't Skye, but India Nightingale. Everything Duke had told her of her past had been invented, fabricated... a lie. If that hadn't been enough of a shock, India had then come face to face with her supposedly dead mother, Madeline, also chained and bound by Duke to the basement dungeons. There, India had discovered the truth - that Duke was once Madeline and Christopher's good friend - Chris' best friend, him being best man at their wedding a testament to their friendship. Only Duke, real name Lachlan Duke, a fellow Scotsman like Chris, was the one behind all the grief in the Nightingales' lives.
Duke had been betrothed to pretty Madeline Dalton at birth, but Maddy had fallen in love with Chris, the three of them having grown up together. Chris, after gaining permission from Duke, asked Madeline to marry him, despite the contrary uproar of both the Duke and Dalton families. Chris and Maddy eloped from Scotland, with Duke swearing he would protect their family with his life. However, Duke was in fact planning his revenge on Chris, who he secretly felt had betrayed him by marrying and stealing the heart of Maddy, who he had always been in love with. A few years later, having created an intricate plan to murder Chris and take Maddy for himself, Duke descended upon their home of the last few years - Dublin, Ireland. There he found the happy couple, oblivious to the threat their best friend brought with him when he entered their home. However, Duke was in for a surprise; his obsessive plans for the Nightingales had never included two twin girls, their offspring, only six months old. So Duke had, when the entire family slept soundly, set the house on fire, snatched the twins, knocked out Maddy and flew away, leaving Chris to burn in the wreckage. He would take his love's and best friend's children and they would belong to him too.
It was a big house. That much India could tell from the outside. Made of terracotta-red bricks and a squeaky clean grey slate roof, it looked like any other muggle house that India had so often seen around England. Madeline smiled brightly at her and Skye, though nervousness was evident in her eyes, as blue-green as their own, before turning the key in the lock and opening the door. India visibly tensed, only for Skye to touch her briefly on the arm and following their mother unhesitantly into the detached four-bedroom house. Observing Skye's furthering back doubtfully with some evident scepticism, India forced herself to follow suit, taking her first step into the place she would from now on call home. She felt a wave of fear and distrust seep into her bones, but she determinedly shook it off. If Skye could handle it then so could she.
Half an hour later India sat on her bed, in her room, staring out of her window at the idyllic countryside view on offer. She observed it expressionlessly, feeling a tinge of recollection of getting lost in the wilderness that day Duke had abandoned her. But now Duke was locked up in Azkaban and India was untouchable. She could breathe easy... she was safe. Eyes losing the shadowy gaze of reminiscing, India picked herself up and began sifting through her trunk, slowly removing clothes, toiletries, books... Her life from Scotland's castle, to the Hogwarts castle, and now a country house in the middle of nowhere on the Isle of Man. How things had changed.
"Come in," India said with a hollow voice when a knock came at the door. It opened to reveal the hesitant face of Madeline.
"How is everything, India?" she asked tentatively, as though a stinging answer would be a slap to the face - and she was expecting it. India wanted to despise her mother for it, but she couldn't.
"Fine." Her reply was like a robot's - automated and engineered... programmed. Madeline looked unconvinced but did not question her elder daughter, wisely choosing to retreat and leave India in peace. India allowed a long outward sigh - emotion was something she was learning to show and not bottle up - and continued hanging up her clothes in her new wardrobe. Her fingers trailed across her black leather jacket, feeling memories fill her insides. India was less reluctant to allow them access to her mind; she wasn't shutting them out any more, she wanted to know about her past, was hungry for it.
India and Skye explored the rest of the house with some interest. Every room was neatly furnished with plush carpets and spotless floorboards. (The twins' separate bedrooms were right beside each other and almost identical, save for India's pastel green walls and Skye's pale pink. India was glad that she and her sister did not have to share a room. She wasn't cold towards Skye any more, but it didn't mean she was completely comfortable sharing her space twenty-four seven. India and Skye were different people; both of them were aware of that.) The living room and dining room appeared spacious and cosy, perfect family areas. The kitchen was modern and convenient, with a smaller dining area leading out to a large, beautiful garden that even India was pleased with. She felt this could become 'home'... if it wasn't for the ever-uncomfortable presence of her mother. The mother who had been locked up by Duke in a dirty prison cell, alone and afraid, for almost seventeen years; the mother whose husband had been murdered by his best friend, by Duke, whom she had loved and trusted like a brother; the mother who had had her twin babies stolen from her at the age of six months and only met them again when they were already fully-fledged witches... adults... different people from those crying bundles of joy... and both her spitting image.
India could barely believe that just a few months ago she had lost her memory, had let Duke convince her name was Skye in order that she failed to regain any memories and remained eternally ignorant of the truth. Then she had stumbled from her bedroom prison to discover her mirror image - Skye - chained and speaking, and such a shock had caused everything to return to her, her memories, her feelings... She wasn't Skye, but India Nightingale. Everything Duke had told her of her past had been invented, fabricated... a lie. If that hadn't been enough of a shock, India had then come face to face with her supposedly dead mother, Madeline, also chained and bound by Duke to the basement dungeons. There, India had discovered the truth - that Duke was once Madeline and Christopher's good friend - Chris' best friend, him being best man at their wedding a testament to their friendship. Only Duke, real name Lachlan Duke, a fellow Scotsman like Chris, was the one behind all the grief in the Nightingales' lives.
Duke had been betrothed to pretty Madeline Dalton at birth, but Maddy had fallen in love with Chris, the three of them having grown up together. Chris, after gaining permission from Duke, asked Madeline to marry him, despite the contrary uproar of both the Duke and Dalton families. Chris and Maddy eloped from Scotland, with Duke swearing he would protect their family with his life. However, Duke was in fact planning his revenge on Chris, who he secretly felt had betrayed him by marrying and stealing the heart of Maddy, who he had always been in love with. A few years later, having created an intricate plan to murder Chris and take Maddy for himself, Duke descended upon their home of the last few years - Dublin, Ireland. There he found the happy couple, oblivious to the threat their best friend brought with him when he entered their home. However, Duke was in for a surprise; his obsessive plans for the Nightingales had never included two twin girls, their offspring, only six months old. So Duke had, when the entire family slept soundly, set the house on fire, snatched the twins, knocked out Maddy and flew away, leaving Chris to burn in the wreckage. He would take his love's and best friend's children and they would belong to him too.
