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23rd March 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
Ginny Weasley opened her eyes. Yawning widely, the red-haired first-year came out of her bed, glancing at her window and noticing the sun had still not risen.
Grumbling against the nightmares that disturbed her sleep and stopped her from enjoying a few more hours of sleep, the eleven-year old get rid of the heavy red blankets and stood. The dorm of the first-year girls was peaceful, with no sound coming from the other beds since their owners were petrified at the infirmary. Yawning again, the young witch marched to the showers with a towel, her soap and her wand.
The growing pain in her chest appeared without any warning. Gasping, the soap and the towel escaped her hands to fall on the floor. Her arms ached and didn't answer anymore. Her legs twisted under her, and it was a downing sensation as the youngest sibling of the Weasley family saw herself falling on her knees. Her back hurt. All her body was in pain. Everything hurt so much. She screamed and moaned in pain. No, she tried. Unexpectedly, her pleas weren't leaving her lips anymore. What was happening to her? She tried to move her arms. Nothing.
With growing fear, Ginny realised her body wasn't answering anymore. The legs, the head, nothing. She was prostrated on the dorms floor, and was unable to do anything.
And then finally the pain stood. Ginny tried to move her arm...and nothing happened.
No, no, no. It's a nightmare, isn't it? It's a nightmare...
"It's not a nightmare."
Ginny's body stood with grace, and in a silent yell the young Gryffindor realised she had lost control of her muscles. Forced in the back of her mind as a spectator, Ginny screamed as the force controlling her body marched to the bathroom and faced the mirror, ignoring her imprecations.
"So loud." The tone of the thing controlling her mouth and the rest of her body was amused."I wonder how I waited to deal with you all these months." The wand went in her right hand and was pointed directly above her heart.
"Umbra Maleficus Illusio."
A ray of red-blackish light struck her.
The youngest Weasley screamed. Or at least she did in her mind, as her body still wasn't answering to her commands. Facing directly the mirror, it was evident her body was changing. Her red hair turned blonde. Not Malfoy-blonde, but the kind of pure blonde colour the French models on Fred and George's boys magazines had. Her eyes took a stunning light violet colour. All her traits were transfigured to take a far refined and noble appearance.
"Perfect." Declared the thing controlling her.
It was her body...and yet it wasn't. The unknown girl now seen in the mirror had some facial similarities to her own, that was true. The form of the jaw, the shape of the eyebrows...those were her own. But the cheekbones, the lips, the eyes and half of her visage had been twisted into something...different.
It was not Ginny Weasley who watched herself in this mirror. It was an arrogant, beautiful and dangerous witch, with a very satisfied expression on her visage.
"Don't worry, Ginevra." The voice which came from these lips was not her own. "This is my body, now...I promise you it will thrive in the service of the Dark."
You will not get away with this.
"I think I will." Smiled the...the new girl reflected in the mirror. Who instantly let down Ginny nightgown and let the only daughter of Ginny Weasley admire the changes on all her body, making her blush internally. Her body was literally...enthralling. Hips, legs, chest. Like her visage and her hair, everything of the new girl had modified her body to make it more muscled and desirable. The new appearance was worthy of a fashion model. "Who will save you? Dumbledore is gone, and my Master is going to take care of the Boy-Who-Lived."
Neville will destroy you.
"Oh, no. The Heir of Slytherin awaits him...and I am his Herald. Slytherin House is going to rule Hogwarts like it should have done from the very beginning."
What sort of monster are you?
"My name is Scylla Persephone Yaxley. I am the witch you have always chained inside yourself. The power and the skills your mediocrity has wasted during the first ten years of your life. But no more."
You are not me. You will never be me!
"Time to sleep forever, Ginevra. Ginevra. Seriously what sort of mother thinks of such a ridiculous name?"
And then there was only darkness.
11 April 1993, Hogwarts, Scotland
The Bombardment Charm had never been remarked by the Wizarding World as a tool of subtlety. It was loud. It was noisy. The explosions it created tended to generate a considerable amount of rubble and splinters, a fact which often made it as dangerous for its user as it was for the target. It was the very definition of collateral damage, especially when one magician added the 'Maxima' variant.
It was however a very efficient manner to crush lightly warded obstacles and surprise armed opponents in their own lair.
"Bombarda!" exclaimed the green-eyed Ravenclaw. The lack of hesitation and a large security distance proving beyond doubt the last Potter was very well aware of these specific Charm drawbacks.
The door of the DADA office did not resist the explosion. One moment there was a door. The next there was a huge hole sufficient for a very tall man to enter. On a scale from one to ten, this level of protection was frankly a bit underwhelming.
Perhaps a two? I knew the Professors have to assure their own security for their private quarters, but for it to be that bad...
The occupier of the room did not see it that way of course, given his shocked face. The astonishment did not last. With reflexes completely at odds with his buffoon persona, the man tried to seize his wand on his deck.
Oh, no. You don't.
"Naturae Incarcerous!"
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