Summer 2028

Viper made her way through the halls of Viper Manor with a heavy mind and conscience. As it was the second floor of the Manor, she took extra measures to move as quietly, with as much stealth as possible. Her family was, hopefully, still fast asleep at this rather early hour, and Viper desired nothing more than to keep it that way. Not only because she didn’t want to disturb them, but also because it was almost certain that they would be wanting an answer as to whereabouts were last night. An answer Viper wasn’t entirely she would be able to give at this very instant, though she knew it was inevitable that at some point down the line, she would have to be honest with Sevastyan and tell him exactly what had occurred between her and Victor.

Merlin only knew how that conversation would go.

Pain-filled tears? For sure. Raised voices? Probably. Anger? Most likely. Hatred? Please Merlin, no. Forgiveness? Impossible.

How do you tell your husband, someone who has been there for you through all your lows and highs, and tried to be there for you now in your solemn hour, that you betrayed him? That after forsaking his tender affections and pushing him away, you took comfort in another man’s arms and bed?

How do you explain a withering mind’s logic that was never clear to begin with?

“Mummy?” a child’s voice called out from a few feet of Viper’s right.

Viper gave a start before glancing upward to the source of the noise, freezing slightly when she noticed that it was Lara, her and Sevastyan’s eldest child.

“Are you alright, Mummy?” Lara asked worriedly as she exited from her bedroom doorway, standing in front of her mother. Her eyes widened slightly from shock and confusion as she took in her mother’s appearance: the disheveled clothes, her unkempt raven locks, not to mention her mother’s expression and stance…

Lara knew her Mother wasn’t the most popular teacher at school. At least, not with non-Slytherins. But yet, despite all that, Viper had never seemed to care. She’d shrug it off, add a playful smirk, and an amused laugh to top it all off. It was something Lara had always admired in her Mother: the ability to honestly not care what other people think.

However, now, taking a critical glance at her Mother, Lara had a strong idea those days were long gone. No longer did Viper stand tall and proud, with an ocassional hint of arrogance in her step. No longer did it seem she was capable of mustering her famous “stare of death”. In fact, by the looks of it, it didn’t even seem as though Viper was even capable of making eye contact. She now stood with her arms folded against her chest, as though she was cold, her eyes looking downward, but with the occasional glance upward to meet the matching green orbs, Lara could almost swear that she saw fear in her Mother’s orbs, and that notion terrified Lara. If a parent was scared, then who would a child turn to when they were terrified?

“M-Mummy, are you ill?” Lara asked, taking note of her Mother’s appearance, particularly her paler complexion, and thinner, nearing gaunt, frame, most likely the repercussions of Viper no longer eating with the family, opting to hide out in the library, or her new favorite location, the roof tops.

Viper forced herself to give her daughter a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Cookie. Just a little tired, is all. It is rather early, after all. Why don’t you go back to bed?”

Lara watched her mother curiously, not convinced in the least. “Are you sure, you don’t look so- ”

“I’m fine!” Viper replied in a much harsher voice than she intended, desperately wanting to drop the subject.

Lara flinched at the harsh cadence from her Mother’s voice, defiant tears filling her orbs, making Viper’s broken heart shards melt with guilt. “A-Alright, Mummy…”

“I-I’m sorry, Cookie. Really, I am. I’m just… so tired lately.” Viper explained with a rather weak finish, bending to her knees to make eye contact with Lara, desperately wanting to engulf her in her arms, though she dared not too after the act she had just committed mere hours ago.

A few tears making their way down Lara’s face. “You’re always tired, lately…”

Viper bit her lip in reply, her guilt overwhelming her. “Please, don’t cry, Cookie… I-I promise, today we’ll all go out, and do something fun. You, me, Daddy, Lynn, and Demyan. How does that sound?” she pleaded, begging for the smile to light up her baby’s face.

Lara paused as though she were debating Viper’s suggestion. Slowly, a smile played on her face, little by little. “You mean it?” she asked with a sniff.

Viper breathed out a silent sigh of relief, forcing a matching smile upon her face. “Of course. In fact, how about you get ready for the day, and pick something for us to do?”

This time, the smile that emerged from the little girl was a full-fledged one. “Brilliant!” she exclaimed as she moved to hug her Mother.

Right when she saw her daughter moving to embrace her, Viper pulled away, standing up and backing away. She couldn’t let her daughter touch her. She couldn’t let her innocent little baby, a product of the love between her and her husband, get contaminated by her disheveled form, an after-effect of her shameful sin. No, she couldn’t touch her children, or Sevastyan, now. Not when she was as dirty as she felt now.

A flash of hurt appeared in Lara’s eyes, wondering why her Mother had pulled away. “Mummy…”

“Um, I-I spilled coffee on myself, Cookie. I don’t want you to get anything on your nightgown.” She replied with as convincing of a voice as she could summon followed by a short laugh.

Slowly, Lara nodded, still not entirely convinced, but not wanting to say anything to tarnish the mood. After all, her Mother had promised her something fun, and considering the Summer was waning away, the little girl decided there was no time to lose. “Ok, Mummy. I’ll go get ready. See ya in a bit, Mum.”

Viper smiled softly. “See you, later, Cookie. I love you…”

Lara beamed. “I love you too.” She turned around to head back to her rooms when she caught an unfamiliar scent in the air. She sniffed around a bit, finding out that it was coming from her Mother. “Mummy, did you get a new perfume?”

Viper raised an eyebrow in confusion, wondering what Lara was talking about. “Sorry?”

“It smells pretty, Mummy. Like, berries and wine. I like it more than your normal perfume. You should wear it more, Mummy.” Lara replied in a compliment before heading off to her own room.

Viper felt a sickening feeling in her stomach, followed by two painful pangs in her heart. Berries and Wine…

That wasn’t Viper’s new perfume. She didn’t even have a new perfume at the moment. What Lara was smelling was Victor. Victor had always been a fan of Zenetreon Cologne.

Suddenly feeling disgustingly nauseated and dizzy, Viper almost ran into the Master bathroom, sinking to floor with her back against the door, clutching her head with her icy hands as she fought the nearly overpowering urge to vomit with disgust at herself.



Quickly, she discarded her sin-plagued clothing and summoned her bathrobe, slipping it on. With a wave of her hand, she activated the nearby Sauna to turn at its highest temperature, enough to cook meat, and slid into it, hoping the intense heat with cleanse her body, mind, and soul, washing away all the guilt and pain she felt. It was hot, almost unendurably hot inside, but yet not even the lava-like temperatures could match the hot tears of shame, pain, anger that cascaded down Viper’s face.

~ The Night Before... ~

Sevastyan once again glanced at the clock while he waited for his wife to return from wherever she had gone. Her distance of late seemed to be getting more and more pronounced. When the kids had asked what was wrong with their mommy, Sevastyan told them the cover story he and Amaranth came up with: that she was sick. They needn’t know just how sick... they wouldn’t understand. It was enough to explain away some of the symptoms. But for how long, Sevastyan had no idea.

It was getting late. He already tucked the children into bed. Getting Lara and Demyan to settle down was his biggest challenge, which only worsened when Lara and Demyan both squabbled over a toy of Lynn’s that she held dear. Add to that a fussing 3-year-old Lynn made even more upset by the ordeal and one had a recipe for pandemonium. Sevastyan had very nearly lost his temper, a rare occurrence in the Viper-Kaminski household. However, if one were to look closely at his behavior, the decrease in patience and increase in frustration occurred at around the same time Amaranth had started distancing herself from husband and children alike.

Trying to get the kids settled in by himself had been chaos, to put it mildly. He’d never been entirely alone in dealing with a ‘three-way bedtime revolt’ and he wasn’t looking forward to another evening like that anytime soon. However, he had to admit, despite Lynn’s fussing she was a precious little thing. Demyan and Lara both had their mischievous charms, though he was rather unsettled by the broken picture frame he’d found amidst the shards of vase after all was said and done. An accident, he assumed, but the image had been ruined by the sharp-edged glass shards, and strangely wouldn’t mend. Still, despite the new flaws in the image he couldn’t be persuaded to discard it. Upon going to the bedroom to read the wizard tucked the photo under his pillow with a soft smile.


But now, as he lay in his and Viper’s bed reading, Sevastyan couldn’t help but worry about what could be keeping his wife so long. Seconds had turned to minutes, and minutes to hours, and she still hadn’t returned. He couldn’t very well call on family and friends each and every time to watch the kids, but yet what if something was wrong? Sevastyan couldn’t help but have one of those tight, stomach-in-knots sensations. Something didn’t feel right, but other than the obvious he couldn’t think of anything else that could be driving him mad with worry.

’Vhere is she?’ he wondered for the about the ninety-ninth time before his eyelids could keep themselves open and trained upon the page no longer.


* * Morning * *

Sevastyan was amidst a semi-peaceful slumber, one arm still clutching the book he’d been trying to read in a rather weak grip, and the other clearly flopping around Viper’s side of the bed in search of her every half hour or so. It was a subconscious movement, one that he really wasn’t aware of.

He almost thought he heard the door open and footsteps enter. ’Probably Lara...coming to vake us up,’ Sevastyan mused. He assumed the weight on his arm that was stretched across his wife’s side of the bed was Amaranth, his mind having forgotten in its muddled state the distance with which she’d been insisting on. Despite the fact he’d assumed it was his daughter coming in to wake him up, Sevastyan drifted back to sleep...

... until finally a very faint whiff of something caught his attention. Something he hadn’t smelled before. Wine and... Sevastyan’s sleeping mind showed him a berry bush, though he couldn’t be certain what kind of berries. Facial muscles jerked in an attempt to identify what the hell that smell was. It certainly didn’t seem like any perfume of Amaranth’s... unless she’d gotten a new one he didn’t know about, unlikely as that was. Upon hearing movement in the bathroom, Sevastyan decided to open his eyes and officially wake up to get the day started.

He was met with a sting of disappointment as he realized the weight upon his arm was in fact the book he’d been reading from last night, and that Amaranth’s side of the bed didn’t even appear to be slept in. Sevastyan would have liked to think that maybe Viper had gone to bed and simply made her side upon waking, but it had been well into the morning by the time he himself had fallen asleep. It would’ve been about the quickest sleep and bed-making ever... which was simply illogical to assume.

The Russian sat up and ran a few fingers through his shoulder-length black hair, a feature that he’d kept the same for quite a few years now, hitting a few nasty tangles. He needed a shower, preferably before the kids woke up. Lynn’s monitoring system hadn’t gone off yet, and other than Amaranth’s absence nothing else seemed amiss. Perhaps her insomnia had kicked in and she was working on a potion. Without words he gathered fresh clothes for the day and padded his way toward the bathroom in not but a pair of emerald green pajama bottoms.

Steam. There was steam issuing from under the door. Sevastyan was seventy-five percent sure it wasn’t smoke. It was far too moist, for his perception of smoke was often as acrid or dry. He quirked an eyebrow at the double doors, curious. Surely he would’ve been able to tell when Amaranth was near... unless he was more out of it than he’d thought. The wizard was certain it was her in there. Who else would it be?

“Ama-“ Sevastyan called, or rather began to call, before being hit with the scalding hot steam as he opened the door. The rest of his wife’s name had gotten caught in his throat as the sauna’s heat instantly enveloped him. It was rather a shock going from moderately warm to intolerably hot. “Amaranth...?” he tried again, setting his folded garments upon a corner of the vanity. That was when he heard sobbing. Alarm flashed in his eyes, and in an instant he was at the outermost edge of the sauna.

“Amaranth?”

At some point when she entered the sauna, though she couldn't be sure exactly when, Viper summoned a loofa, and was now scrubbing vigorously at every inch of flesh visible: her arms, neck, legs, everywhere. Over and over she scrubbed, leaving her pale skin red and raw, and in some parts bleeding, yet all went unnoticed, for Viper's entire focus was on cleansing herself.

She closed her eyes, praying for her Huntington's to rob her mind of memories of the night before, but to no avail. She could still feel Victor's hands gently caressing her, the feel of his lips, and the sound of his voice, whispering would-be flattering comments, had she not already have a husband...

The combination of the intense heat, lack of sleep, and stress she was invoking on herself made breathing harder and harder, as a panic attack threatened to take over.

Lately she had been leaving copies of divorce papers around where she knew Sevastyan would find them. (although she had charmed them so only his eyes and not any of the children could see them) Not because she necessarily wanted a divorce from Sevastyan. Quite the opposite, in fact, for despite the distance she had initiated between them, she still loved him more than ever. No, the papers were there to serve one purpose: to always allow Sevastyan the option of walking away.

Viper wanted to let Sevastyan know that in no way did she demand for him to go under with her, and that she would wholeheartedly support any notion he may have to separate himself and the children from her withering self, as she knew that would be the best course for all of them And yet, each and every time, she'd find the papers untouched, lacking any markings or signatures. Now she was positive those days were at an end.

The sound of the door opening and Sevastyan's voice calling her name caused an abrupt halt to Viper's thoughts as an additional surge of panic coursed through her. She opened her mouth to reply, but for once in the witch's life, no words escaped her. Instead, her breathing became short and in rapid, irregular intervals, with her heart feeling as though it would burst out of her chest.

"I-I have to leave... I, I have to go..." she managed in a panic tone as she struggled to control her breathing. Tears streamed down her face as Viper shifted, intending to stand and flee, only to have her momentary lack of coordination, and the effects of her mini-panic attack, force her to remain in her position. "I'm sorry..." she whispered.

Sevastyan panted as the heat assailed his body and his senses. It took Amaranth a long moment to respond... which in turn gave the Russian cause to worry. “Mind if I turn down the heat a little? It’s... a bit too hot in here,” Sevastyan requested and altered the setting without waiting for an answer. “Honestly, it’s about hot enough to-“

"I-I have to leave... I, I have to go..."

To say he was surprised by this answer would be apt and a slight understatement. “Go? Now? Did you get any rest? ...” Sevastyan asked, more or less struck dumb. He hadn’t even gotten out a proper ‘good morning’ or ‘I love you’ and she was leaving again? He had all he could do to mask a sigh of annoyance. The distance that grew and the affection that waned was making him less patient and more irritable of late. He could feel it, and he was almost certain the children sensed it. Especially the day he’d blown up at Demyan for a very trivial matter.

When Amaranth did not immediately appear from within the depths of the sauna, Sevastyan approached and pulled back the curtain and asked, “Have you been home long?” However, the Russian wizard jumped at the sight of seeing her skin so red raw – bleeding in spots no less – and the odd breathing pattern. “Amaranth... vot is wrong?!” he asked, stepping into the sauna with her even though he was still dressed in his pajama bottoms.

“You’re bleeding...” he murmured in such a way it almost seemed as though he were the one bleeding and not her. Sevastyan reached for something to dab at the blood when he noticed her tears. “... and crying. Vere you attacked?” It was the only logical conclusion he could come to, though it didn’t quite add up.

Was the blood on the loofah there due to the scrubbing or to sponge the wounds? If due to scrubbing, why had she inflicted such pain upon herself? The sight of tears also upset him. What had happened while she was out last night?

Finding a soft wash cloth, Sevastyan moistened it with a bit of water. “Please, let me help,” he offered, placing a hand at her shoulder while the other approached with the cloth. Given her recent behavior he didn’t expect much in the way of having his assistance accepted, but he wasn’t about to turn away from her weeping, bleeding form. Sevastyan loved her too much to not at least try to help.

Another pang of guilt filled Viper as she realized she had more or less began to blurt everything out, but it couldn’t be helped. She honestly hadn’t a clue how to tell Sevastyan the truth, opting to try and tell him as swiftly as possible, somehow thinking that it would cause him less pain and anger. Not to mention she wasn’t in the greatest sense of mind for a calm, easier approach, as she was more or less panicking, with her erratic breathing, sped up heart rate and shaking.




“No…” she managed in a hoarse voice to his inquiries as her mind spun, wondering what would happen to the children once she told Sevastyan the truth. Would he keep the children away from her? Would he eventually tell the kids what their Mother had done? All possible scenarios running through her mind were painful to even think about, though Viper knew deep down inside that she deserved all that and more.

She jumped slightly from her sitting position at the sound of the curtain being pulled back, revealing her form and hitting her raw flesh with an altered temperature. “I’m sorry…” she whispered to Sevastyan, a new wave of tears forming.

Her heart melted at the emotion contained in Sevastyan’s observation regarding her current state, as she let out a dry, hollow laugh. “I wish.” She replied to his inquiry over whether or not she had been attacked, knowing that her Mirror of Erised at this moment would be of that being the true reason for her state, and not the painful truth regarding Victor. Actually, scratch that. Her mirror would be of her and her family together in pure happiness, like they had been before her diagnosis.

She stiffened, pulling away from Sevastyan’s touch and washcloth. “Please don’t touch me…” She still felt dirty and Victor’s lingering caress. “W-We need to talk. I have a confession to make.” She bit her lip nervously. “I’m so sorry, Sevastyan…”

To say Sevastyan was confused was an understatement. Not to mention highly concerned. No sleep... she was shaking... and hadn’t been home long? Or had she only heard one of his questions? He was going to assume ‘no’ was the answer to the ones he’d expected an answer from. Incomprehension filled his entire countenance at the apology.

Gray eyes grew rather disturbed by her reply. “I do not, vould not, vish that. Upon anyvone named on the List of the Damned...” he stated with soft but deep affection and firm conviction. It was actually a slight exaggeration, given the fact he didn’t really know some of the people listed. But the fact remained that he was quite clearly thankful she hadn’t been attacked. Had the distance not been imposed he would have embraced her out of relief that she hadn’t been assaulted by purgers, and that she was safe. Instead he imagined the moment in vivid detail, a balm for the frustration in his heart at the lack of being unable to actually do so of late. While imagination was a healthy thing, Sevastyan was getting rather annoyed with living on the cheap bliss of fictional sensation in an attempt to replace the deficit of reality’s affection.

When she stiffened, Sevastyan couldn’t help but jerk his hand away from her shoulder out of reflex. Like he’d committed a rather huge faux pas. Disappointment and frustration filled every corner of his face at the request not to be touched. Gray orbs lowered and looked away from the form beside him. They squeezed shut, as if to hold back tears. “Dammit, Amaranth... How in the hell am I supposed to help you?!” he muttered in despair of defeat, keeping his hands near his knees. Sevastyan even scooted away a bit, getting the feeling she didn’t even want him this near to her.

So far away... and yet so close. Or was it the other way around?

“If not for your sake, then mine...” the wizard requested, feeling rather stupid, and draped the washcloth over her thigh. The only contact was between her and the cloth, to Sevastyan’s great regret. Even when she was bleeding and crying rivers, Amaranth rejected him and what he offered. What he bloody stood for! The role of a husband was to support his wife and to love her, something Sevastyan would do, had done, and continued to do of his own choosing without question. “Please.” The wavy whisper held much emotion, but he kept his face turned away so not to look at her. To look was to yearn, and yearn in vain. At this moment, Sevastyan would sell his very soul to the purgers if it meant things could be as they once were between him and Viper.

Amaranth’s stammered statements and nervous actions worried him enough to return his gaze to her, though the orbs were overcast to a slightly darker gray. A gloomy gray. Did she have bad news about the progression of Huntington’s? No matter how he deliberated, the fact that his wife had a confession to make did not sound like a good thing. “... Ven do you vant to talk?” he inquired cautiously. Right now didn’t seem very appropriate to him, since he had more or less interrupted her in the middle of washing. But if she wanted to talk now, he would honor that. True, he had just woken up minutes before, but that didn’t really matter.

Absent-mindedly, the Russian reached out to take his wife’s hand, worried about the conversation to come. However, seeing what he was about to do, Sevastyan halted the action and returned the rogue hand to his lap. Despite how much he hated being cut off from her like this, for touch was very much a key part in his way of bestowing affection, Sevastyan did not want to force himself on her if she didn’t want to be touched. And it seemed quite clear she didn’t.

Seeds of a feeling that maybe he’d done something to displease her had settled themselves into the back of his mind, and made themselves at right home. Now, they were as if long tendrils of vine, with beautiful yet deceivingly deadly flowers along its length.

Another dry hollow laugh of pain escaped her at Sevastyan's affectionate reply. She heard the conviction in his voice and felt the nausea begin to return. She clutched her head between her two hands in an effort to ward of the dizziness that was rising alongside her disgust at herself. "That may change..." she offered weakly, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

In a way, Viper wanted Sevastyan to hate her. She wanted him to yell, scream, and call her a whore. She wanted him to wish she would drop dead. In her mind, she thought perhaps Sevastyan's anger and hatred would serve as atonement for all she had done.

... Right?





No, it wouldn't. It was a foolish idea and foolish to even use such logic. After all, was it not the very usage of that logic that lead her into Victor's arms and bed? The idiotic thought that if one's belief was firm enough, than it may rewrite reality?

It was nothing more than the Nightingale feasting on her banquet of opium, hallucinating that she was soaring through, horizon-bound, waking only to feel the poisonous wine of reality through the golden cage that held her.





She bit her lip as more tears streamed down her face upon witnessing Sevastyan's reaction, and seeing his eyes shut, as if to hold back tears. Part of her wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, wipe away all of his tears and fight away his fears, just as she had once vowed to do. However, her rotting mind, such a dominating player in her life's chess match, utterly refused to comply.

Don't even dare. You have no right...

It had to be noted in pained irony, that while she seemed to forsake many things as of late, particularly her vows, in this moment, she was fulfilling one: she was fighting herself, the seed to everyone's sorrow and agony.

It was a losing battle, but a battle nonetheless.

"I already told you how you could help me. All it takes is one simple signature, and you and the children are free. Free to have a fresh start." she uttered lowly, with slight weakness in her words. "You're an amazing man, Sevastyan. A loving husband, wonderful Father. You won't have any trouble finding another..." she added, with an attempt at a reassuring smile, only to have it end up as more of a pained grimace.

"Don't you understand? All that I ask of you: to keep yourself and the children away, to withdraw from your attentions and affections, to sign the divorce papers is all for your sake. So I'm not trapping you into this damned life, anchoring yourself to me..." Viper replied, tears streaming down her face faster than ever, melding with her blood, creating an image of one who was truly broken, possibly beyond repair.

"Now." she replied with as much firmness as she could, which wasn't all that. Viper strongly felt that if she left it off any longer, than she would end up backing out entirely, which was simply not an option.





She took a few several shaky breaths in an attempt to calm herself before confessing. "Sevastyan, last night, I.. I-I was... with someone else..."

A few more tears cascaded down her face as she shakily added. "I know it most likely means nothing to you, but... I'm so sorry... "

It was exceedingly hard, to see his Amaranth in so much pain and unable to offer his embrace. Unwelcome within his lover’s arms... for she would inevitably extricate herself from him. How was he to love her when she wouldn’t let him? On the rare occasions when she did sleep in their bed with him, and was in fact sleeping, Sevastyan would sneak a brief embrace here and a caress there. Sometimes he would chance a kiss upon the nearest bit of her he could reach, when he was feeling particularly confident or lonely. He craved what they once had together: where there wasn’t at least one talked-about incident of the pair of professors snogging in the halls, robes half off and the clothing underneath either extensively wrinkled or a button or two... or three... undone.

How she could even think he would change his mind... it hurt that she believed he would wish her pain and suffering even after all their near-decade of togetherness.

Sevastyan winced at the thought of finding another as though he’d just been force-fed a lemon. “And vot if I don’t vant to find ‘another’?! Vot if there is no ‘other’?! It took me thirty-four years of my life just to find you!” Sevastyan snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. Another thirty four would make him sixty-eight, assuming he lived that long. ’I don’t vant a fresh start... I vant you! Can’t you see that?!’ his mind begged his mouth to ask of her. He tired of being told the only way to help was to abandon her to suffer a deteriorating mind alone. The Russian doubted she would leave him if the tables were turned, no matter how much he asked, so he couldn’t see just up and leaving her like that. Ever.

“I do not see it like that at all... you are not trapping us. Ve are a family built upon love. To ask any of us to merely sever ourselves from you is like asking to part vith a limb,” he replied, the words tight as he heard the tears in her voice. The wizard needn’t see the tears, nor could he bear to. Seeing the tears would make him want to comfort, and the way he comforted her required physical contact. Acta non verba ~ actions, not words. That was but one of many phrases Sevastyan lived by. Not exactly conducive to the new and even more strict ‘hands off entirely’ policy Amaranth saw fit to emphasize...

He was going to get up to leave in case she decided on later, but drove away the thought when she wanted to talk now. There wasn’t much solidity to her reply, but Sevastyan had a feeling that if she had been able to accumulate enough... perhaps ‘energy’ was the best word considering she hadn’t much sleep... it would’ve been stated the way she’d intended. Though the Russian knew he would yearn for his wife upon looking at her, Sevastyan gazed upon the form of his seemingly broken wife. The gray orbs sought any trace hint of what might be so important she’d want to talk this very minute.

Had Huntington’s spread further?
Had something awful happened when she was out last night?
Could it be she was pregnant ... and was scared for the child?


"Sevastyan, last night, I.. I-I was... with someone else...“

with someone else
with someone else

With. Someone. Else.


It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was getting at. Obsidian pupils, formerly dilated, constricted to pinpricks; the whites of his eyes grew as they widened in shock. A sharp intake of breath was like the whoosh of a knife being mercilessly shoved passed bone and into the very core of his heart. Sevastyan’s breathing came in short, quick, gasps. He suddenly wished he’d donned his robe so that he could at least cover his top. It suddenly didn’t feel right, like he was indecently exposed to the world.


"I know it most likely means nothing to you, but... I'm so sorry... "


“You didn’t...” Sevastyan struggled to whisper, shaking his head in disbelief. He didn’t want to believe... The wizard was waiting for a punch line or an ‘I’m only joking, love...’ and when it didn’t come, he felt like he was going to die on the spot. Yet, for his want to have this just be some horrible nightmare, it made sense: For how long now had she denied his advances? How long had he yearned for her, only to be ignored and have her squirm away? Now he knew why she shunned him. She was in love with another... behind his back. The wizard felt his throat close up, making it even more difficult to breathe. Sevastyan could almost literally feel his heart being ripped from him, his blood running cold.

At the same time, the inferno of rage burned in his veins.

Questions painful, embarrassing, and furious ran through his mind. What had he done – or not done – to deserve this pain? What fantasy or desire had he not fulfilled for her? Why had she done it? Did she sleep with anyone else, or this one, more than once? Did he really want to know the answers? She had been rejecting his advances for some time now... That must be it... All this time...

So many questions, and not one did he dare ask for fear of losing heart and self-restraint completely. Most of them even started with the same word:

”Vy?!” he demanded, clearly struggling to understand, feeling his face flush to a bright beet red. Viper... in the arms of another man... After all the years of faithful devotion to her, she decides to do this. Sevastyan was angry; humiliated. With haste he stood and left the vicinity of the sauna, muttering a spell to cause the steam to turn into an icy cold spray of water aimed at his wife. As he did so the Russian’s gray eyes squeezed tightly shut to prevent the fall of heartbroken tears, before turning away from her entirely. She had taken his love and trust and thrown it away...



The wizard bit his lip hard to keep from yelling at her. So hard in fact that a droplet of blood issued from the wound and ran down his chin. Sevastyan could hardly care that he was bleeding. A drop of blood was nothing compared to the rivulets of excruciating pain cascading through his heart, poisoning all the emotions he held dear. How could she just toss him aside? What did her recent partner have that he didn’t? Or was it what the guy didn’t have but he did? Like... a wedding band? Children?

At his sides Sevastyan’s hands subconsciously clenched into fists, the left closing around the wooden handle of his wand, which he’d always carried with him of late. Oh how he wanted to take out his anger on the witch here with him for doing what she had done. But he wasn’t that kind of man, even if he may have been well within his rights to do so. Sevastyan refused to behave like his brother did. His heart wept for the great loss he couldn’t help but feel. It was as though he had lost Amaranth. Although, Sevastyan suspected he’d been losing her little by little ever since they’d found out about Huntington’s...

Or was Huntington’s all just a lie as well? A clever cover to hide behind all of this?

Slowly, Sevastyan returned his gaze to his wife. Raven brows were furrowed in obvious anger, though his gray eyes were dull and devoid of the spark they once held. All that remained was utter agony. He was sealing memories away inside his mind. Memories far too painful to recall now, or ever. Intimate memories.

The wizard wanted to flee from this scene before he lost control over his senses and hurt Amaranth for her misdeed. However, emotions kept him rooted to the floor. Never had he wanted to be away from Amaranth until now. His craving for affection from his wife had immediately evaporated. His lust for her buried amidst a great amount of pain.

For several minutes he had not spoken further, though he looked about ready to spit venom. What did one say in such a situation? There was no understanding, nor could there be. No forgiveness... Not at the moment, anyway. Forgiveness would only prove that she could continue to sleep around with other men and still shun him like the plague. “You do not vant the divorce for us... or the children... it is for you...” he whispered, tears heard but not seen. “Isn’t it?” Sevastyan hissed, expression quickly developing into a fierce glare. Despite his former affectionate words, he cared not for the tears she shed. The damage was done: his heart was broken, and knew his value was little more than rubbish thrown to waste.

“I honestly don’t see vy a ****ing signature means so much to you – you’re already messing around behind my back! ‘Sorry’ doesn’t even to begin to cover it!” he nearly bellowed at her, keeping his distance. Sevastyan was never a loud man unless he was angry or drunk. Needless to say, his raised voice spoke volumes – no pun intended.

A pair of irate, darkened gray irises bored into Amaranth as their owner jerked the curtain to the sauna out of his way once again. “The very least you can do is name the man that had you, and explain to me vot it is he has that I do not!” Sevastyan all but spat at her, the venom in his voice contrasting with the clear droplets of indescribable agony spilling from the corners of his eyes.

It seemed like decades since she had felt Sevastyan's touch. And not just a brush of his hand here and there, which she quickly pulled away from. An actual touch. Such as his arms around her, with her, for once, leaning into the embrace, taking in all the comfort, security, and affection she knew lay within him. Sometimes, at night, she thought she felt his touch. It was highly unlikely, she knew, as she had taken to sleeping at the very edge of the bed, so far she was nearly falling off. Yet despite the logic, she could almost swear she could feel him: a brief embrace here and a caress there. Sometimes even a kiss.

Never again would she feel his arms wrap around her, feel his hands caressing her, nor would their lips meet.

All she would feel from this moment all is burning pain and regret.

She noticed him wince and mimicked his actions when she heard his response, shaking her head in disagreement. "No, Sevastyan... For thirty-four years you lived a happy life, free as a bird. Until you met me and ended up bound to a life far beneath what you deserve, anchored by a woman who'll pull you down under."

Emerald eyes closed at Sevastyan's words, accompanied with tears trailing down her face. In a voice slightly above a whisper, she replied, "A limb? Sevastyan, when a limb is diseased and begins to rot, what does one do with it? One does not simply carry on as though it is nothing. Only death can sprout from that. No, one cuts it off and gets a new one: a more durable, appealing one that will last forever."

Tears poured down her face faster than ever as she watched realization of what she had done illuminate, or in this case, darken, Sevastyan's features.

"I-I did..." she whispered needlessly, nodding painfully. A strong, overpowering urge to deny the whole thing and pull it off as a joke crossed her mind, only to be squashed instantly. She'd already shattered Sevastyan's world by being a defect. Dare she deny being unfaithful to him as well?

”Vy?!”

Viper opened her mouth to explain, only to hesitate, as she honestly didn't quite know how to, for if the logic behind her actions made very little sense to their creator, how much more to another?

Nonetheless, she endeavored to at least try, feeling that, at the very least, Sevastyan should have at least an attempt at an explanation. "I don't know, i-it's just-"

Only to see Sevastyan flush a dark shade and walk away from her, though taking care to replace the hot steam into an icy, bitter mist. A painfully ironic symbolism, Viper felt, for it probably represented love. Burningly passionate, consuming and raging, but with one flick of the wrist, nothing more than a cold, empty, painful gale.

A sharp intake of breath escaped her at the new sensation, yet no words escaped her. She hurt him. Deeply. She knew very well she did. It was only right that he do the same to her, in anyway he deemed fit.

Shivering slightly from the sensations and the emotion of the moment, Viper followed her husband, struggling with her balance as she did so. "S-Sevastyan, please..." she pleaded with her husband as she trailed after him, falling unto her knees in front of him as she did so.

"I don't know how to explain anything, Sevastyan... I-I needed comfort. Comfort that I wouldn't feel wrong for stealing. I needed someone I wouldn't feel guilty for using. I needed to be selfish without feeling selfish." she summed up as best as she could with as much heart and honesty as she could muster.

Regardless of what Sevastyan may be thinking, there was no love, or even affection, between her and Victor. That ship had long since sailed. There was chemistry, of course, considering their past, but nothing more. Only one thing remained between them that brought them together, particularly last night: They were both selfish people, desiring someone to use, in an effort to ease their pain. He struggled with the loss of his business and the impending trial dates, and she struggled with her illness and the family she was losing little by little, day after day.

No real emotions, no sparks. Just a raw need for comfort, and an alcohol coerced memory of a time when everything was perfect. Nothing more.

Her eyes widened slightly as she saw Sevastyan's hand clench tighter around his wand. Was he going to strike at her? Never before had he ever demonstrated any characteristic of that of a man who hexes his own wife. He'd even promised he would never do such a thing...

But then again, had she not promised, vowed, that she would remain faithful? She was already a liar, traitor, and adulteress. Dare she add hypocrite unto that list?

With a shaky hand, she summoned her own wand, enclosing her hand around it. However, instead of pointing it to Sevastyan in a defensive gesture, she dropped it to the floor and rolled it towards Sevastyan. Slowly, she looked up from her position on her knees, and met his eyes as she did so, letting him know that should he hex her or curse her, she would allow it and do naught but take it, knowing it was the least she deserved.

“You do not vant the divorce for us... or the children... it is for you... Isn’t it?”

"No..." she breathed out, trembling and crying from fear, grief, and regret. "I swear to you, my words and reasons stand true..." She replied, pleading with him to understand.

“I honestly don’t see vy a ****ing signature means so much to you – you’re already messing around behind my back! ‘Sorry’ doesn’t even to begin to cover it!”

She couldn't help but flinch at the volume he produced. Never had she seen him this angry. Never had she seen him in this much pain. And all because of her...

Viper shook her head fervently, sending a splatter of blood from her neck's loofah abuse, unto the floor. "No, Sevastyan, I swear, I have never been unfaithful to you before now and I have been as honest as I possibly can with you! Please, believe me!" she begged, tears melding with her shed blood.

She could feel his eyes burn holes into her soul as he stared at her. His grey eyes appeared devoid of all emotion aside from grief and anger, as though they would never brighten again. A thought that frightened and pained the witch.

“The very least you can do is name the man that had you, and explain to me vot it is he has that I do not!”

"He is not the one I love, Sevastyan. He is not the one I have given my heart, hand, and soul to, nor the one whose children I bore. Whatever you may think, Sevastyan, please..." she pleaded, barely above a whisper, as silent tears trailed faster than ever. She did her best to avoid his initial question, for she felt it would only cause Sevastyan more pain.

Broken emerald orbs sought grey eyes, conveying all emotions she felt, as she prayed for forgiveness.

Sevastyan felt like he was choking on air at the needless confirmation. There would be no joking, for it was the bitter truth. It was as if she had vanished the very floor – the very ground – he stood on. He was plummeting into a dark abyss, the shattered heart within him breaking away little by little from the mere threads that held it together. ’Did our love really mean so little?’ he asked himself, though could not find the answer. The Russian watched in expectation for an answer as to why she sought someone else’s embrace instead of his. Brows furrowed into a tight but broken line across his forehead. ’How could you not know?! You vere there, veren’t you?!’ his mind pleaded he retort back, but he did not. Sevastyan couldn’t bring himself to anything more than two or three words at the moment, so deep was the cut to his now-bleeding heart.

He heard the sharp intake of breath at the sudden temperature change he’d made, but did not acknowledge that he had. It hurt to know his actions would cause a kind of reaction, but moreso to actually hear it. He wouldn’t have blamed her for shouting at him. Yet, on the other hand, did he not have every right to do what he did? Surely changing temperatures wasn’t nearly as bad as retiring to another’s bed when one was already married! Sevastyan heard her follow his retreat and call his name in a plea. It stung that she would plead now, when his whole world was crumbling apart, yet any other time since being “diagnosed” with Huntingon’s shunned his every advance.

The Russian couldn’t bear to see her on her knees in front of him. How part of him longed to collapse and be with her... the part that still loved her despite what had been done. However, that part of him did not have the forefront of his mind.

At the word ‘comfort’ he squeezed his eyes shut and deliberately turned his face away from her. “... Comfort...” Sevastyan scoffed with disbelief. Taking a shaky breath he continued, but the anguished tremble remained, “Since ven have I ever denied you comfort? This whole time... for nine years... I have alvays been... right here!” To further emphasize how close he was, Sevastyan thumped his chest twice with an open hand right where his heart was anatomically. He didn’t understand, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. If she needed comfort, but not his... Sevastyan felt worthless enough as it were just knowing she’d slept with another. “... You vouldn’t have even needed to steal it... I have alvays given it freely.”

He tried so hard not to cry. It wasn’t becoming of a man, nor was he normally one to wear his heart out on his sleeve at all times. But yet... the pain was so great Sevastyan wasn’t certain he could keep up a façade of dignity. There was no dignity in this, only a world of throbbing, aching hurt. The Russian refused to let his wife see him cry, refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d shattered his heart... if it was indeed satisfaction she sought.

Startled gray orbs widened at his wife’s move regarding her wand, tears he hadn’t meant to shed escaping from the corner of his eyes. Why had she done that? He stared in shock as she looked at him with wide doe-like eyes, clearly trying to convey something to him. But what? A sudden tingling in his hand, and finding white-knuckled digits in a vice-like grip around the wooden handle of his wand told Sevastyan all he needed. Immediately he crammed his wand back into his pocket, and nudged the wand back to Viper with his toes.

He was not that kind of man, and didn’t want to become one.

Sevastyan gave his wife a look of jaded incredulity at her vehement assurance that her reasons for divorce had nothing to do with this most recent development. It pained him to disbelieve her, but how could he hope to believe such a thing now? Once they were “free” she’d no doubt go to this other man, in Sevastyan’s way of thinking. It would be Roxane all over again. He supposed if she wanted to leave him so badly he should just sign the papers and be done with it, but couldn’t bring himself to give up on her. Or at least he hadn’t before. The Russian felt as though he were in a lose/lose situation. “Give me vone good reason to believe you now...” he whispered before averting his gaze away from Amaranth’s emerald orbs, disappointment and agony practically written all over his face. Deep down, Sevastyan didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to hurt her in any shape or form... even if he was angry and miserable.

The Russian barely even noticed her flinch. She did so so much of late that it no longer concerned him. Add his anger to the equation and he couldn’t really care less whether she was trying to avoid realizing his volume or having been startled by it. Sevastyan did take note of the drop of blood, but made no move to clean it up or even approach. A heavy sigh emitted from the wizard as he shook his head at her words. “Vot is that supposed to mean?! ‘As honestly as you possibly can’...?! Vot if ‘as much as you possibly can’ means lying to me about this, because it’s as honest as you can be vith me?!” he asked, borderline hysterics.

"He is not the one I love, Sevastyan. He is not the one I have given my heart, hand, and soul to, nor the one whose children I bore. Whatever you may think, Sevastyan, please..."

How very much he wanted to believe her words... how true he knew those words had been for a majority of their married life. But now... now he didn’t know what to believe. It seemed to him that if Amaranth were willing to sleep with this man then she must love him, regardless of what she claimed to profess. “That does not answer my qvestion... But I suppose that’s as honest as you can be vith me about that, right?” Sevastyan was just shy of sneering. Under any other circumstance, he would have immediately forgiven her. However his heart was too heavy, too broken, to mend itself let alone anything else.

Unable to bear seeing her so miserable, Sevastyan once again retreated by pushing the door open to go back into the bedroom. The wizard paused for a fraction of a second upon seeing his and Amaranth’s most intimate space before striding to his side of the bed to sit down. Hunching over, the wizard placed his head in his hands to try and stop the overwhelming amount of thoughts and feelings from spinning so rapidly. “Merlin, vot have I done to deserve this?” he whispered to himself, too distressed to do anything other than simply be at that moment.

"That was the problem!" Viper blurted out, tears pouring down her face uncontrollably. "You've never denied me comfort, love, or affection. The whole time, for nine years you've been utterly perfect! The perfect husband, perfect father, perfect lover, perfect friend... while I'm nothing more than a ticking time bomb of ****ed up genes that ruined your life for the past nine years, infected your children. You probably wish you never even met me..." she added softly in a voice barely above a whisper.

"You are and always were out of my league. I never deserved you. Especially now. E-Every time you so much as look at me, I-I feel ashamed and incomplete. Incomplete because I am ashamed, and ashamed because I am incomplete. I'm not good enough for you, Sevastyan. I told you before, I'm not worth it." She struggled desperately for the words to explain what she had done, only to find none, for their were now words to adequately describe the foolishness and illusions of a rotting mind.

"I feel so guilty whenever I'm with you, knowing full well you could have, and deserve a hell of alot better than the s*** you married..." she breathed out, biting her lip once more. "I just... needed to be able to use someone and not feel guilty for taking something from them..." she attempted to explain.

As she watched her husband struggle not to cry, the witch wondered if this truly was her purpose in life: causing pain to others. She certainly had a knack for it as a child, as a teenager, as the Head of ECHO. Despite her efforts to leave her old life behind her, it seemed one could never run from their identity. Neither maturity, love, marriage, or motherhood could change the stars that were written for Amaranth Viper. She was a parasite: designed solely to inflict misery and agony. Not only to herself, but particularly all those she loved more than anything. How cruel fate was indeed... To have given Viper everything she could ever have dreamed of, only to rip it out of her hands and heart, stripping her of her warmth, happiness, and strength, condemning her to walk the dead gardens of solitude and unbearable loneliness, cold, naked, and wishing for a sweet merciful death just so the kiss of life could brush teasingly against her hollow soul, and that for one brief moment of disillusionment, she could feel alive again.

Emerald orbs watched Sevastyan closely, surrendering herself to him. At the back of her mind, she braced herself for any impact, any fury he deemed necessary. She blinked in surprise as Sevastyan, at what seemed like the last moment, backed away, and kicked her wand back to her. She stared in confusion at her wand before rolling it back to Sevastyan. "Do it!" she pleaded with him desperately. "Hex me to hell, curse me to Hades! Anything..." she begged him through her tears. "I deserve it... I won't fight back, just... do it." she wept. She wanted atonement, more than anything. She wanted to pay for what she had done, all her mistakes, all that she had failed to do. She wanted Sevastyan to get his revenge from her. She wanted him to unleash all the anger she believed nestled within him for all she had done: her failure in being an adequate wife, her failure in producing wholly healthy children, her failure in making him happy, her failure in serving him with absolute loyalty and obedience. Her failure in living.

The pureblood mania teachings her family had instilled in her regarding absolute obedience and servitude of a witch to her husband, after so many years of being scorned and forsaken by the witch, were risen from the ashes within her withering mind, strengthened like never before. In this moment of hell's pandemonium and hysteria, the witch was convinced that the only way to make everything better, the only way to heal the pain and wounds she had caused, was by her death: just as her ancestors would have bestowed upon any of their wives who had failed as abysmally as Viper had. "Kill me..." she whispered, begging Sevastyan, pushing her wand back to him. "Give me the death you know I deserve...".

For each time green eyes locked with grey and saw all the betrayal and agony she had caused, Viper felt a knife delve deeper and deeper within the shards of her broken heart. She winced in reply, shrugging defeatedly. "I have none..." she whispered. "It would be foolish for you to believe a whore, just as it would be foolish for a whore to try and convince you she is anything but..." she uttered in absolute defeat. She felt so hollow, so empty. Almost as though she was swarmed by dementors absorbing and feasting on all the happiness she had once naively thought would grow and last forever, not knowing that she would never be that lucky and blessed. She felt drained of all energy and feelings except for agony, sinking it's fangs into her again and again until she was too exhausted to fight it off any longer, and would surrender to the unbearable pain, and crucify herself unto the cross she had constructed herself, for herself.

By now she gave up attempting to make eye contact with her husband, instead opting to curl against the wall, crying silent tears of snow-white sorrow. Feeling drained and exhausted, she merely shrugged. "I-I tried... I tried, but I failed. Like always..." she closed her eyes, spilling even more tears as she uttered through her pain. "I've told you all that's happened, Sevastyan. I already told you what I did. What else would I lie about?" a dry pain-filled laugh escaped her. "What else could I lie about?"

Sevastyan's words fell on deaf ears as their owner plunged headfirst, further and further down the maelstrom of agony, drowning and pleading for forgiveness and death as tears escaped her faster than ever. She watched as her husband left her, retreating to their bedroom. Farther and farther the knife within her was shoved as she thought of how never again would she lay with Sevastyan, curled within his loving embrace. Never again would she hear the soothing beat of his heart as her head rested against his chest. Never again would she feel that strong euphoric wave of pure happiness and safety she always felt, locked within arms. Never again would he love her the way she had, and always would, love him.

She struggled to her feet, wiping away her tears. It was a useless action, for for every tear she wiped away, three more took it's place, cascading liquid heartache down her face. She looked at her husband's heartbroken form, causing more tears to cascade, before she forced herself to look away. She waved her hand, summoning a suitcase as a whispered spell caused the case to open and various articles of clothing to fly from the drawers and closet into it. Aside from causing others pain, there was one thing Amaranth Viper was highly skilled at: fleeing.

Fleeing from pain, from misery, and from reality.

"That was the problem! You've never denied me comfort, love, or affection. The whole time, for nine years you've been utterly perfect!

Sevastyan would not call himself perfect. If he were, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. If he were perfect, perhaps she wouldn’t have gone to another. The perfect husband would find a way around this fiasco, eventually forgive and forget, and continue on with life as it was. But he couldn’t see any solution to this mess, and at the moment was much too angry and hurt to even consider forgiveness. How long had he yearned for her affection, only to be cast aside? How long had he watched her sleep at a distance because she was clinging almost to the point of falling off the bed, as though he had something highly contagious but she didn’t want to offend him by sleeping elsewhere? He couldn’t help but be irate and jealous of this man, whom his wife would not reveal to him.

In one sense he wondered – hoped even – that she was lying. Simply trying to make him so angry that he’d sign the papers; pushing his buttons until something snapped. Yet that thought also made him angry, for she would be mocking him in a rather sensitive area of married life. The only thing that prevented him from thinking this was the tears. The Russian couldn’t be sure if she were crying because of her guilt or if she could tell how deeply she’d hurt him, but wasn’t going to hold his breath thinking it was the latter. The world didn’t revolve around him, and no longer it seemed did his wife’s love life.

How he wanted to return to her side and dispel the negative thoughts she harbored about herself... but he couldn’t do it. It hurt too much to even breathe, let alone move.

"I just... needed to be able to use someone and not feel guilty for taking something from them..."

’Pretty vords masking an ugly lie... Just say it already: you’ve grown tired of me!’ Sevastyan mused, not understanding at all her reasoning behind any of this. What had been the point in taking from another if she knew it would shatter all they’d worked to create? The only thing he could think of was she was weeding out the ‘problem’... and the problem was him. That was already a fact she’d established, in his eyes.

"Do it! Hex me to hell, curse me to Hades! Anything... I deserve it... I won't fight back, just... do it. Kill me... Give me the death you know I deserve..."

Of all of his reasons for retreating, this one disturbed him the most. The Russian couldn’t care less if she didn’t fight back, he wasn’t going to hurt her no matter how angry he was! Violence wouldn’t solve anything... wouldn’t make him feel any better in the end. All it would do is cause more woe to the grief piled atop his shoulders. And he wouldn’t be accused of abusing his wife, no way no how! The sentences he’d earned as a youth to wizard prisons were quite enough for his taste. It was bad enough that he was already experiencing similar sensations of having a dementor near, rather than having the sensations in addition to the real thing being present.

The defeat in her voice matched the despair on his face perfectly. What had happened between them to make everything come crashing down around their ears? Sevastyan felt if he had known the answer to that, this could have all been averted. But it was too late... the damage was done unto both of them. He couldn’t believe a word she said, and she wouldn’t give him any reason to believe or disbelieve. The Russian felt so empty, so worthless. Here and now he made a pact with himself to never allow another woman to possess his heart so completely as Amaranth had. It was dangerous, and now he realized rather foolish... setting one up for a downward, spiraling fall lasting for all eternity.

He had no intentions at all of finding another to wed. Ever.

The children of course would need a mother figure, but Sevastyan couldn’t bring himself up to even think about waiting at an altar for a woman again. The first time he’d considered it, his fiancée married another not even a month later. This time, it seemed he and his wife were speeding steadily toward a divorce. The wizard had been duped by the notion of wedded bliss twice. A third time did not seem at all a very attractive option.


So much pain... and it was only morning. Sevastyan only hoped and prayed the children wouldn’t notice the tension between them. It was a vain hope, of course, but one he put all his energy into regardless. He’d already made the decision to move his things into a guestroom, because that’s all he felt he was now. A guest in his wife’s manor. The wizard was already having one hell of a time being in here, what with all the intimate memories the room held. Nine years worth of memories and love... now scarred with this ordeal on top of it. His heart, mind, and soul would bear similar scarring, when and if he ever moved on from wherever they were to go from here. For now, however, the emotional wound dealt to him was fresh and bleeding profusely.

A lonely tear leaked from one eye, speeding down his face only to get lost amidst his beard. Licking his lips, he could taste the salty droplet upon its arrival, causing more trails of liquid hot agony to find their way. With despair Sevastyan wondered if he should collect the tears for Amaranth, fairly certain the pain and grief in each one was top-notch quality and could be used in a potion. However he thought better of it, and decided that his tears were not to be shared. He shared thoughts, love, heart, soul, practically everything... Sevastyan’s tears and pain would be his and his alone. And, as such, he wiped them roughly away with a shaking hand. Whether it shook out of anger, shock, or grief was difficult to say.

So submerged was Sevastyan, writhing in his heartache, that he hadn’t heard the whispered spell. When he heard the drawer open, the wizard thought Amaranth was merely getting dressed. Vaguely did he consider watching her through forlorn eyes, but decided against it. There was too much anger, too much hurt...

That was about when an article of clothing brushed by his head... and another... then another...

Curious and confused, Sevastyan sighed heavily and steeled himself before glancing over to where he thought Amaranth was. Instead he saw his wife before a suitcase, packing her clothes. To say he was shocked was an understatement, anger boiling under the surface as well. That boiling magma of fury caused him to push off from the mattress harder than he’d intended and storm over to her. “So that’s it? You came home just to tell me this, collect your clothes, and then leave to go back to him again?!” Sevastyan shouted, pushing back his tears and the tremble in his voice, an arm flailing toward the window upon referencing the man she wouldn’t name. “Vy couldn’t you have just sent Nissy, and had her deliver a ‘Dear John’ letter instead?! Merlin knows that house-elf vould’ve enjoyed it!”

The worst thing about words said in anger is the lack of accuracy, and the rate of assumption.

“You still haven’t even told me vot his name is! I don’t know vy you’re so insistent on keeping it a secret. Surely a man’s name can be easily lied about – there are many to pick from!” Sevastyan snapped, deliberately knocking over the suitcase and spilling the contents. It made him feel better for a whole two seconds, just as he thought.

“If you von’t tell me his wretched name, at least answer me this: all the times you’ve flinched and shied avay from me... has it alvays been Huntingon’s, or vos it because of him?! I need you to be ‘as honest as you can vith me’ – I need to know!” he continued onward as though he’d done nothing more mundane than close a door. Gray eyes were opened wide, bright with unshed tears and a demand as strong as his words for the truth.

He felt as though he’d already lost her if she was willing to pack her bags and leave him and the children.

There was nothing to lose, but was there really anything to gain?

Green eyes closed in response, as she felt no pressure or force exerted from Sevastyan's wand. Despite her pleas, Sevastyan had refused to cast one single spell or hand upon her, despite the fact that she deserved it. The answer she had known ever since their eyes had locked at the first time since they met rang clear through her mind once more: Sevastyan was not like other men. Particularly ones she had grown up with. She should have known that no matter what, Sevastyan would never lay a hand on her, even if she wept, and pleaded for him to do so. He was not that type of man, and never would be.

It pained her to know that it seemed to always be her and her foolishness that ruined her and Sevastyan's relationship. Nine years prior she had forsaken every knowledge, affection, and trust she had accumulated of Sevastyan through their relationship to jump into the accusation and conclusion that he had been cheating on her, betraying her with another. She had been the one who had cut off all contact with Sevastyan by fleeing to Finland, even going so far as to shred a Valentine's letter he had written for her and mail it back to him. She had been the one whose stupidity and lack of trust had ruined the deepest, most meaningful relationship she had ever had or known off. And yet, somehow, Sevastyan had found it in his heart to forgive her, and welcome her back with open arms, giving her the most precious gift a woman in love could ever receive from the man who held her heart, and eventually married her, giving her two more precious gifts shortly after.

She was not a fool for making a mistake, but a fool for not learning from it. And now it seemed the cruel hand of irony had decided to play as well, for where she had once thought Sevastyan as a cheater, and ruined their relationship because of her lack of trust, she had now become the cheater, who had destroyed their family because of her lack of sense.

As Viper stood in midst of her and Sevastyan's bedroom, she glanced around the room, feeling wave after wave of pain, as she thought of all the special, particularly the intimate memories it contained. Her eyes wandered throughout the room, particularly the photos that adorned the vanity and dresser. Most were of their children and the recent past, from the era of Lynn's birth and onward to present day, but there were a few from other 'eras' as well. There was a picture of Sevastyan with Lara and Demyan laying on both sides of him upon the sofa, all three sound asleep, worn out after a particularly exciting snowball fight in Russia, another with Sevastyan and her watching, curled together upon the sofa, as toddler versions of Lara and Demyan opened Christmas presents, one of Sevastyan and her, holding baby Lara the day she was born, and one from the highlight events of their relationship: the Yule Ball.

It was a simple photo of the two, a close-up shot of them dancing, with Viper's arms wrapped around Sevastyan's neck, and his around her waist. There eyes were locked completely within the other's, lost in their own little world, to where they hadn't even noticed the flash of the camera. It was only when the student had approached her after class one day and handed her the photo that she realized it had been taken. Apparently the student had intended to take pictures of the Yule Ball for the yearbook, but upon seeing the photo that came out of the Potions Mistress and Defense Professor, thought perhaps the couple would like to keep it as a personal photo, instead of one within hundreds of student's yearbooks.

A wave of tears illuminated Viper's orbs as she thought of the reason the student had chosen to give the sole copy of the photo to her: all the love and affection the couple held for the other was there, clear as day, lighting their smiles and eyes. So much so that apparently it made another outside source feel as though they were an intruder upon gazing at the photo silently proclaiming the couple's love for the other, for it truly did seem as though they stood in their own little world, built upon what they felt for the other.

Viper stole a glance back at the husband particularly his pained grey orbs. Where love had once sparkled, the luster had now seemed to fade, for it was nothing but hurt and anger illuminating the stormy silver. She wondered within her dead garden of reality if it would ever light up again.

Surely it would, she reasoned. Despite what she had once thought, she was not 'The One' for Sevastyan. Had she been the one, she wouldn't have been the abomination she was. She would have been much better, for that was what Sevastyan deserved: perfection. A perfect woman, to match him. A woman other than herself. She was merely an obstacle in life that he had to overcome, though for what reason, only the Gods would know. Someday, she believed, Sevastyan would find the woman that was truly meant and made for him. Someday, he would look back at himself during their early years, and laugh, at how unfortunate he had been to have ever met Amaranth Viper, while she would weep at how foolish she was to ever think she could be happy, and that she deserved the happiness she felt within Sevastyan's arms.

Someday, it would be another woman seeing the grey orbs light up for them. Someday, it would be another woman's touch and kiss that would bring a smile upon his face. Someday, it would another woman by Sevastyan's side, giving him the strength Viper never could. Someday, it would be another woman who Sevastyan would ever love, ever cherish, every need, to survive. Someday, it would be another woman being a Mother to the children who had the misfortune of being born to a woman who was no more than a shadow: haunting, tormenting, and bringing all down under.

As she charmed various articles of clothing towards her suitcase, she vaguely wondered where she could go. Since she had married Sevastyan, there had only been three places she had considered home: Viper Manor, Kaminski Manor, and Hogwarts. Kaminski Manor was an obvious no, considering how that was technically Sevastyan's clan, and seeing where they stood now, and should they ever learn of what had happened, the witch doubted they would ever welcome her warmly, or even pleasantly again. Hogwarts was a possibility, though the moment the thought was conceived, it was aborted. She couldn't possibly go back to Hogwarts. Not in the state she was in. She wouldn't be able to handle all the memories contained within the stone walls of the school. And Victor was certainly not an option to anything. In fact, Viper doubted she would even see the wizard again. He had taken what he wanted, and she had taken what she believed she had needed. As far as he was considered, Victor probably considered their business complete.

No, she needed to be alone. Far away where she could harm no one else but herself. Her Flat in London would work. Granted, it had been years since she had even seen her Flat, and it was most likely under constant surveillance from the Purgers, but what of it? Contrary to her belief a mere decade away, there were, in fact, things worse than death. In fact, considering how she had lost all she had ever held dear.

“So that’s it? You came home just to tell me this, collect your clothes, and then leave to go back to him again?!”

Her husband's sharply spoken words caused her to break from her reverie, as she bit her lip, struggling for words as more tears formed. "S-Sevastyan, I told you, it wasn't like that... I returned, being honest with you right when I came home, praying that despite what I did you'd still somehow be able to forgive me, o-or even at least, somehow not hate me for what I've done to your family. I-I should have known that it was no more than a fool, or in my case a whore's hope." she closed her eyes, tears feeling like shards of glass running down her face as she wept. "Y-You all would be better off without me." she added in a gasp or breath between tears.

“Vy couldn’t you have just sent Nissy, and had her deliver a ‘Dear John’ letter instead?! Merlin knows that house-elf vould’ve enjoyed it!"

"I-I..." she stammered, quivering as she stood from the despair consuming her from within. "I love you..." she pleaded once more, but knowing that the chance of her words ever holding any value or meaning were slim to nonexistent, no matter how much she would beg and weep.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as she watched Sevastyan deliberately knock over the suitcase, spilling all the contents. Immediately, another wave of tears washed over, bathing her in a maelstrom of heartache. It wasn't so much as that Sevastyan had knocked over a suitcase, but rather what had been in the suitcase, aside from clothes: a small jewelry box playing the same music as their lockets had, filled with various pieces of jewelry he had given her through their years together as birthday, Christmas, and anniversary gifts. She couldn't be sure if Sevastyan's action had been his way of communicating his desire for her to stay, or if perhaps, he wanted her to go, but leave the jewels.

Once again, her mind jumped to the worse conclusion of the two. Considering how furious he was with her at the moment, she doubted he wanted, and would ever want to attempt to salvage their relationship, and immediately concluded that he merely wanted to take back what he could from their years together. It seemed like a fair trade to the witch. "Fine..." she whispered, broken by what she had interpreted his actions to mean. With a shaking hand, she gently unclasped the locket that had stayed around her neck, untouched for the nine years they had been together, and handed it to him. As an after-thought, she removed the rings that adorned her hand, her wedding and engagement ring, and handed them to Sevastyan. Never had she ever parted from the three jewelry pieces, but if that was what Sevastyan wanted, then so be it. She would deny him nothing.

“You still haven’t even told me vot his name is! I don’t know vy you’re so insistent on keeping it a secret. Surely a man’s name can be easily lied about – there are many to pick from!”

"Would it truly make a difference to you who it was?" she uttered in grief and hysteria. The reason she had danced around the subject of the identity of her fellow adulterer had been simple: to spare Sevastyan as much pain as possible. Granted, it would probably seem rather ridiculous, considering what she had just done, but she felt it was the least she could do. Sevastyan had known of her and Victor's past, and the last thing that she wanted was for Sevastyan to think that the entire time they had been together, all through the years, she had loved Victor. That she had, in fact, never felt anything for Sevastyan and had merely used him as a Victor-substitute. Despite what she had done, that couldn't have been farther from the truth. Sevastyan was all that she was. Everything that she had refused to give Victor, including her heart, had always been Sevastyan's. No matter what Sevastyan may think, it was always him. Victor had been a a phantom's memory of a long-forgotten past.

Just as Viper appeared to be for Sevastyan.

“If you von’t tell me his wretched name, at least answer me this: all the times you’ve flinched and shied avay from me... has it alvays been Huntingon’s, or vos it because of him?! I need you to be ‘as honest as you can vith me’ – I need to know!”

How many times had she watched him sit alone upon the sofa, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms? How many times had her children asked her to play with them, only to have her tell them that she was too tired? How many times had she watched Sevastyan and the children go out on an outing but opt to stay indoors, away from them, because she was ill? How many times had she watched Sevastyan sleep, occasionally even going so far as to steal a caress and kiss upon his forehead, but immediately pull back, feeling as though she were contaminating him?

Out of all the comments that had been uttered, all of which Viper knew she had deserved, this one had hurt the most. Did Sevastyan truly believe that this had all been a charade? Did he truly think that all this time she had distanced herself from him and the children, it was because she loved and yearned for another?

The thought in itself was enough to make Viper gag as she struggled to control the nausea that now washed over her. She placed one hand upon the vanity as she struggled to control the spinning in the room. With one hand, she conjured her copy of her medical files and threw it into his arms. Within the file were various reports from a myriad of Healers, all contained the same diagnosis: Huntington's. There were also a large collection of charts demonstrating her mental decline. She hadn't admitted it to Sevastyan, as she often opted to keep her medical reports to herself, finding the results embarrassing worthy of deep shame, but her decline had accelerated the past few months, a bit faster than what was normal. She hadn't been wrong that day on the roof tops when she told him that after the year ended, she would no longer be capable of teaching. In fact, her recent visit to the Healer's had informed her that it was more than likely that within a decade, she would be in a care facility, as she wasn't responding to any treatment they offered her that they had hoped would slow the degeneration process.

She looked to Sevastyan with tears pouring down her face faster than ever, uttering in a voice barely above a whisper. "Does that answer your question?"

When the nausea had reached a tolerable level, Viper made to move outside their bedroom. If not to get away from Sevastyan, then at the very least away from the intimate memories that lingered within their bedroom, mocking and tormenting her with the knowledge that never again would they come to pass, for their era, along with their marriage, seemed to have reached it's end.

‘His family’? Shouldn’t it have been ‘their family’? Sevastyan couldn’t help but notice that change in wording. Did that mean she was truly through with him? That she officially no longer wanted anything to do with him? All he ever wanted before and since her being diagnosed was to be close to her, to love her, yet repeatedly was he pushed away after they’d been given the news. Even when he temporarily gave up she stayed away. Being denied for so long dwindled his patience and drained his hope, leaving nothing but despair and frustration in its wake. It made him feel unwanted, this recent development a slap to the face... or more specifically a swift kick to the groin. Sevastyan had reached his breaking point, and couldn’t help but come to rash assumptions and worst-case scenarios.

The wizard was mere seconds of asking why then she was packing to leave if he was completely wrong when she gasped a further comment; one that both hurt and caused further anger. So much of both in fact that he didn’t dare speak. It hurt that he wanted her and now most definitely couldn’t have her, and it angered him that she would flee – still determined in his assumption that she’d seek out her mystery man – rather than simply keep her distance as she tended to do. Merlin knew the manor was big enough, even with his sister and her family also residing within. Sevastyan was conflicted as to how to feel: on one hand he wished she didn’t really mean that, yet on the other he was beyond caring. Caring wouldn’t change her decision, he could see that... it would just make her departure all the more painful.

If his heart tried to hold in any more pain it would surely burst.

"I love you..."

Heartbroken gray eyes squeezed shut, a pair of teeth closing upon the flesh of his lower lip. The three words that meant so much yet so little at times like this. If she loved him then why were they falling apart? Why couldn’t their love hold? If she loved him why then was she fleeing from his side, from their home... from all they held dear? The only reason he could come up with was that the words were now little more than just words. It wasn’t a notion he fancied, furious or not. The Russian wasn’t so certain he could sort out his feelings so simply. Stormy irises reopened, but upon doing so sent several betraying tears down his face.

Sevastyan had no clear-cut motive for spilling the suitcase. In a way he wanted her to stay, yet he desired to be away from her. It was just a means to physically vent his pain without regretting the action. If he’d hit Viper or one of the children he would never forgive himself. But a suitcase... they put up with quite a bit of abuse as it was. He was only slightly aware of the jewelry box, its melody reflecting the pain felt by both of them... a tune that played, if Sevastyan recalled correctly, when Amaranth had fled to Finland nearly a decade ago – not unlike now, it seemed – in an attempt to get away from him. Jewelry and it’s value was the furthest thing on his mind.

Raven brows furrowed at her whispered word, watching in confusion as she undid the locket and removed her rings. Eyes widened as he stepped back, frightened despite his anger. Sevastyan didn’t want that... he’d given the items to her as gifts and declarations of love. Why on earth would she think he would want them back? His family had money, just as hers did.

...Unless she was returning them in a move to show that they were through ... Officially, inescapably, irrevocably through...

With visible tentativeness he handed her the jewelry right back, his touch lingering as long as possible even if it wasn’t the friendliest of contact. More tears made their presence known. “They vere gifts... Keep them,” he murmured almost curtly in his own broken defeat, though the brusqueness was really a mask for the tremble of agony he couldn’t quite hide. As far as Sevastyan was concerned, Amaranth had just poured salt onto his shattered, wounded heart. This was worse than receiving a shredded Valentine’s Day card in the mail. Items she’d worn for nine years... returned as if she were merely borrowing them... as though they meant nothing to her...

"Would it truly make a difference to you who it was?"

“Did it make a difference to you?!” Sevastyan snapped back, voice cracking under the stress of the situation. He wasn’t sure if the implications of that question would hurt her more or him, but the wizard regretted it the moment the words left his lips. Sevastyan hoped it wasn’t just a random man she’d been with, thus his only options were people she’d known in the past. People she’d known before he became a part of her life. Perhaps he was merely a replacement for someone her heart couldn’t have. There was no point in asking, from the wizard’s point of view. If she wouldn’t even tell him the guy’s name, then there was a good chance she wouldn’t tell him much of anything about it. Not to mention he was still ashamed at his outburst...


Knitted brows tightened at her gagging. Amaranth seemed disoriented, to his eyes, though she was clearly well enough to conjure what looked like a file folder. Before he could ask what it was it had been thrown at him, and rather clumsily Sevastyan caught it. In a huff he rifled through the various reports and charts, all by Healers he for the most part trusted. However, he had never seen these records for himself until now. It was Sevastyan’s opinion that if Amaranth wished to share the findings then that was her decision, and he wouldn’t dispute her want of privacy. The wizard should have felt something, or at least had the decency to appear as though he were. And he did feel bad, genuinely, just as any husband would be. When he was done scanning through the various papers he tossed the file onto the bed.

"Does that answer your question?"

“Even medical records can be faked. I’m not stupid, Amaranth,” he muttered, though truth be told the Russian’s argument hardly sounded convincing even to his own ears. Sevastyan wished with all he had that this was just some bizarre dream he would wake up from at any moment, discovering that the ordeal with Huntington’s and the affair were all figments of his imagination.

Wish not granted... as Amaranth made for the door.

Instead of blocking her, the wizard followed. There were far too many memories in there to mock him for his incompetence to keep his wife satisfied... too many memories of a love that seemed long-since withered into oblivion. And for that he also needed an escape. It was hell to even think what they had was no more, much less see it unfold in the same place they had built their relationship, and to some degree their family, together. His whole world was coming apart at the seams and this time there really was nothing Sevastyan could do to stop it.

“Vot of the children? Are you going to abandon them as suddenly as you’ve forsaken me?!” he demanded, vocal chords once again straining to keep it together. Once they were out in the hall he made to stop her, standing right at the foot of the staircase.

Seeing the tentativeness Sevastyan carried upon him as he handed her back the jewelry she had removed, caused another shockwave of pain to wash over her. It wrenched the shards of her heart to even more pieces, knowing that only yesterday, mere hours ago, he wanted her touch, and wanted to touch her. He loved her yesterday, he loathed her today. In less than twenty-four hours, she had committed one stupid mistake, and torpedoed everything she held dear. Nearly a decade of love, affection, children, and happiness annihilated, in mere hours.

"I have no right to keep them, or wear them..." she whispered brokenly through tears. "You gave them to a woman you loved, a-and she's faded... L-Lost." She replied as she stared at the jewelry in sorrow, her left hand and neck feeling bare, cold, and empty without them. It wasn't a new feeling to her. After all, she had gone months enduring it, without Sevastyan by her side. However, it added fuel to the fire of pain within her, being apart from the gifts he had once given her in love. Of course she wanted to keep the gifts. She meant what she said that she'd love them, cherish them, and wear them forever, just as she meant the vows she swore that were represented by the jewels. Granted, she broke half those vows out of stupidity, but... she still loved him. She never meant to hurt him.

She loved him when she first met him, she loved him their first night together, she loved him when she was pregnant with his child and they soon eloped. Even in Finland when she wrongly assumed he betrayed her, her heart still burned and yearned for him. There was never a time when she didn't love him, even if there were times, particularly times of late, when she seemed to demonstrate otherwise.

“Did it make a difference to you?!”

Seven words. Seven words was all it took for Amaranth Viper, someone known for her snarky comments, her ability to always find at least something to say, to be utterly speechless. She stared at Sevastyan in stunned silence, feeling the knife that had already existed within her, piercing her heart go farther and farther, until it seemed as though her heart could break no more. Her skin paled a tone not even the word "fair" could probably define, and a shade she herself had never faded too. A look of pure pain, one she'd never before until this night, illuminated her emerald orbs. Or, in this case, darkened them, to a dull, almost black shade of green; a color only a woman who had just lost everything in a single moment would bear. Tears trailed down her face faster than ever. The jewelry Sevastyan had so tentatively handed back now slipped out of her suddenly numb, trembling fingers. "Wh-What did you say?" she asked in a voice softer than a whisper, her pain and heartache entwining themselves into her words.

Was that really what he thought of her now? Granted, he had every reason and right to, and she herself had even called herself a whore, but... she in all honesty hadn't expected Sevastyan to go so far.

She was by no means ever innocent, particularly in her teen years and in ECHO's era. Back then, she was definitely what one could consider "loose" and "liberal". It wasn't just her skills in potioneering that Amaranth Viper was known for. Even in quite a few other Potions Lab throughout Europe, her reputation lingered, more often than not, proven to be true by her various inamoratas. Relationships were nothing to her. She wandered in and out of them as though they were nothing but an outfit one gets a new one of, everyday. That all stopped, however, when she met Sevastyan.

The moment their eyes locked, she was, and always would be his. Their union and eventual marriage only solidified the bond and connection that was built between them. A bond that seemed to have been so strong during forgery, strengthened through the years, only to have been broken so quickly. Assuming it had ever existed at all, and wasn't merely a figment of her imagination...

Her already fading mind went into a blank phase, plunged into the waters of agony, betrayal, and heartache. The rational part of her mind, what was left of it, was silenced as she acted purely on impulse and did one thing she had seen several times between the interactions between her Mother and Father, but never thought, and even swore she herself would never do. Raising her now-bare left hand, she swiftly sent it into contact, hard, against the side of Sevastyan's face. "How dare you!" she breathed out, her words drenched with the pain she felt, eating her alive.

How could he? Did he truly think so lowly of her now that he believed that she had left last night, intending to have a quickie with the first man she saw?

A lot of people thought Viper was a slut. Especially people who knew her in her younger days, between her teenage years and adulthood. Back then, and even now, she could care less about those people. To hell with them, she'd say. But to have her own husband see her as no more than that? She deserved it, yes, but... it was still another blow to her shattered, nearly nonexistent heart.

"You really want to know who it was, Sevastyan? Fine. It was Victor. Victor Levinthal. Yeah, the same man I was engaged to, and would have married had it not been for that fact that I hated him far more than I ever loved him. It wasn't some random bloke I shacked up with like you seem to think, nor was it something I even imagined I'd ever do. I got kicked out of the last pub I had left, I needed a drink. Bam! There was Victor. He handed me a bottle, and soon we got around to talking all about old times." she let out a dry, hollow laugh as she added. "You know, back when I was actually worth something and not just a walking wretch of rotting brain cells like I am now."

"I was drunk, he was drunk. I wasn't thinking, he never does. That's it. That's what happened. We didn't meet up up every night for a shag like you seem to think, and I sure as hell didn't enjoy it like you make it seem!" she cried out, weeping in honeyed agony, with tears of snow white sorrow pouring down her face. "Does that comfort you? Knowing every detail of what happened? I have no idea how the hell it would, but f*** it, if that's what you want!” she took a deep, shaky breath before asking "Did that make a difference to you, Sevastyan? Knowing exactly I screwed up?"

She had thought that by showing Sevastyan her medical records, he would at least begin to understand everything. Viper didn't in any way expect Sevastyan to condone her actions based on those grounds, but merely an understanding of her reasons for everything. She had hoped that by seeing her medical condition and the declining state of her mind would help Sevastyan see why she was keeping her distance, and demonstrate the absolute hell the next few years would be for him should she linger by his side. Surely, he thought, after seeing the absolute wreck she would soon become, he'd be eager to flee from her side?

"Even medical records can be faked. I’m not stupid, Amaranth"

Apparently not. Her last hope was annihilated as Sevastyan nearly scoffed at the papers.

Green orbs watched as her medical file, filled with paperwork that spelled out her doom and could very well be referred to as the catalyst and beginning to it all was flung to the bed, seemingly without a care. Faked the medical records? Why would she? She had always spoken her mind to Sevastyan before... did he truly believe she would invent this whole, elaborate lie about having Huntington's because she didn't want to admit her feelings for him were supposedly gone? Viper couldn't tell what hurt more; the fact that Sevastyan was now doubting her love for him, or the fact that he seemed to know her so little.

"No... not stupid. But you are ignorant." she whispered weakly in a dull, defeated tone.

The voices were back again. Calling her, laughing at her, mocking Viper as she ran.


The witch bit her lip hard, clutching her head in an effort to silence the others. They never left her alone, it seemed. Never. They were the first thing she heard in the morning, and the last thing she heard at night. Assuming she was lucky enough to fall asleep, that is, and wasn't laying in bed, tormented closer and closer into insanity, with not only the voices harassing her, but also the memories the room contained of a time not so long ago, but felt like another life; memories of her and Sevastyan, alone and safe, in their own little world, instead of the present, where their world was driven to ruins by the invasion of the demons of reality.

“Vot of the children? Are you going to abandon them as suddenly as you’ve forsaken me?!”

Viper scoffed in defeat, shaking her head. The grief and hysteria within her united to form a monster of insanity that seemed to take control of the witch. At this moment of agony, she had no control of what her mind thought, or what her mouth said: She was having an episode.

" For what purpose, Sevastyan? For you to mock me? For you to sneer at me? For you to hate me? For you to tell your children to hate me? Give me one good reason why I should stay with a man who won't understand that I've made a mistake, even though I'm on my hands and knees, begging for forgiveness? Give me a reason why I should continue to hope for any possibility of a salvaged future with a man who truly believes that all this time, I've lied to him about my medical status, all in an effort to have various one-night stands with strangers I've picked up at random bars?" she hissed as tears that seemed as though they would never end continued to cascade. "Give me one good reason..."

"M-Mummy?" a child's voice called out from the side. Lara appeared before her parents, emerald orbs wide with shock and terror as she stared in front of her parents, trembling with fear and confusion. She couldn't understand it at all. True, the past few months had been odd, but... never like this. She'd never seen her parents more or less yell, particularly at each other. What was going on?

"M-Mummy, Daddy, what's wrong? What's happening? Wh-Why are you so angry?" Lara begged her parents to tell her, tears starting to form in the eyes identical to her mother's.

"I have no right to keep them, or wear them... You gave them to a woman you loved, a-and she's faded... L-Lost."

Gave... Loved... Faded... all words formed in the past tense. Words meaning, to Sevastyan’s ears, that there would not be a second chance for them. Anger was an evil that unraveled even the strongest of bonds... and the Russian was beginning to learn such a thing in a whole new light. He’d given the jewelry out of love, and it was love that kept him from taking them back. Why would he want a gift back simply because he was angry? Sevastyan held feelings for the woman in front of him ever since he met her some nine years ago in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, still feeling very much like the keenly-watched outsider. He loved her since asking her to the Yule Ball... since their night together after his impromptu duel with Kazimir... loved her more than he could express when they’d eloped and were expecting their first, albeit unplanned, child.

Even when she thought he’d betrayed her, causing him to be brought down to the point of contemplating suicide... nearly going through with it, too... did his heart beg and plead for her affections. It crushed Sevastyan in the present as she appeared to seem cold toward him, uninterested in his advances. Now what hurt the most was watching as all they’d built come crashing down around them and knowing that, if Viper left, it would be impossible to rebuild their tower be it on his own or with assistance. He was not a satisfactory husband... and there was little anyone else could do to persuade him otherwise. The wizard doubted Amaranth would even take a stab at it, after all of this. Sevastyan wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. It seemed as though both had taken a plunge into a land of no return.


Sevastyan averted his eyes after the words he didn’t really mean had come out, not wanting to see the agonized shock on his wife’s face or the pallid shade she’d gone in response. He noticed her eyes darken. Anyone that knew anything about Amaranth Viper in the wizard’s opinion would know that was hardly a good sign for someone. A wince contorted his features hearing the tokens of love he’d returned being dropped on the floor, barely hearing her incredulous inquiry. In his defense, he hadn’t really meant to push the envelope so far... he was incredibly hurt she would accept someone else’s affections but not his and it was eating away at him. Yet the wizard made no attempt to take back the words or even indicate he was sorry for them. He didn’t know what he wanted out of this conversation/argument; couldn’t make up his mind. He couldn’t believe his own returned question... How could he ask such a thing after all they’d been through together?! They had a bond so strong it should not have broken. But it did...

The Russian contemplated if it was even there at all, based on his assumptions of what he did know and what he thought he knew.

Wondering why she was suddenly being so silent, for it was very unlike her not to have a comeback, Sevastyan decided to risk meeting her eyes. It would hurt, he knew, for the emerald orbs would not light up for him. In his agony and steadily increasing depression at having failed her, the wizard felt sure that only her Mystery Man would be able to create that spark again. Even though she claimed the man was not the one she loved... it seemed clear to Sevastyan that the man was the one Viper wanted, pessimistic as he felt right now. He didn’t understand what this other person’s comfort had that his did not... Was he really to be blamed for being jealous upon learning his wife had a supplementary lover, even if it was for a single night by her account?

A hard, cold smack to his face was an instant answer to his question. Fingernails grazed his skin, leaving pale scratch marks where they’d dug into flesh.

Sevastyan took a step backward, reeling. The last time he’d been hit that hard was probably when Viper thought he’d cheated... and before that when various girlfriends caught him with another during school-age youth. However, this strike hurt like hell compared to other ones he’d received. Even the occasional hit courtesy of his father hadn’t hurt quite as bad. Then again... Sevastyan had numbed himself to his father’s tough love. This was a fresh bundle of raw nerves.

The wizard stayed still for several moments after Viper had hit him. Something inside of him wanted to hit her back, but the logical portion of his mind cautioned him from it. He’d made a promise to himself that he would never abuse his wife regardless of what was dealt to him unless he had a damn good reason to, such as to break a spell cast upon her. So, he contented himself with placing a hand upon the assaulted area, rubbing the tendered skin that would surely be home to a bruise in addition to the scratches. Astonished gray eyes blinked in confusion at what had just happened between them, the memory searing itself in his mind against his will. She was hurting, he was hurting, and the price for words of anger was a slap in the face. It symbolized to him the end of what they had, though that was hardly what he wanted.


"You really want to know who it was, Sevastyan? Fine. It was Victor. Victor Levinthal. Yeah, the same man I was engaged to, and would have married had it not been for that fact that I hated him far more than I ever loved him. It wasn't some random bloke I shacked up with like you seem to think, nor was it something I even imagined I'd ever do. I got kicked out of the last pub I had left, I needed a drink. Bam! There was Victor. He handed me a bottle, and soon we got around to talking all about old times. … You know, back when I was actually worth something and not just a walking wretch of rotting brain cells like I am now.

"I was drunk, he was drunk. I wasn't thinking, he never does. That's it. That's what happened. We didn't meet up every night for a shag like you seem to think, and I sure as hell didn't enjoy it like you make it seem!

“Does that comfort you? Knowing every detail of what happened? I have no idea how the hell it would, but f*** it, if that's what you want! ... Did that make a difference to you, Sevastyan? Knowing exactly I screwed up?"


The moment the first name of her Mystery Man was revealed, Sevastyan knew who it was. He had seen pictures of the pair in various yearbooks, and had even met the man on a few occasions. An overwhelming amount of pain flooded his heart, as though the truth had caused it to burst like a popped water balloon. He’d been replaced by a school-era sweetheart... someone she had no qualms mentioning she would have married. Russian ears decided to ignore her other rantings, only interested in a rather pathetic and slightly twisted sense what had transpired between her and Victor. Where Viper paled, Sevastyan reddened. Reddened with anger and embarrassment... and a dry, hollow laugh met her words at her not having enjoyed what happened. Yet given his last outburst, Sevastyan decided to keep his thoughts to himself. One order of Slap-in-the-Face was enough.

“Yes!” he retorted loudly and venomously since they seemed rather engaged in a shouting match, though the pain in his stormy orbs told a different story. He was hurt beyond all imagining, even though he hadn’t fully listened. The wizard did want to know... but now that he did, wished he didn’t. Odd how certain truths work that way. If she hadn’t enjoyed it, why didn’t she stop it and come home, he wondered? Sevastyan was no stranger to inebriation, but it still hurt him that she’d sought the arms of another. How he wished he could take this all back and start the day anew in blissful ignorance... Every part of him screamed in silent misery.


Ebony eyebrows knitted even tighter when Viper scoffed upon his asking of the children. Did she really care so little about them now? Because of his inadequacies and anger? A wariness came over Sevastyan. Despite his unshakable decisions in times passed to remain at her side, the episodes always disturbed him. It was a fact that she couldn’t control what she said, did, or thought during these episodes, but he prepared for the worst. The wizard steeled himself to hear just how much she hated him, how horrible she thought he was, and wondering aloud why she’d even married him; steeled himself for a superficial beating either physical or magical. While some things he prepared himself for had yet to happen, Sevastyan decided to be prepared for anything. After what he’d said he wouldn’t blame her for any of it. Unfortunately, he steeled himself for the impending onslaught mostly with the excess anger radiating through his being.

" For what purpose, Sevastyan? For you to mock me? For you to sneer at me? For you to hate me? For you to tell your children to hate me? Give me one good reason why I should stay with a man who won't understand that I've made a mistake, even though I'm on my hands and knees, begging for forgiveness? Give me a reason why I should continue to hope for any possibility of a salvaged future with a man who truly believes that all this time, I've lied to him about my medical status, all in an effort to have various one-night stands with strangers I've picked up at random bars? ... Give me one good reason..."

Sevastyan opened his mouth to argue that he felt like he were being mocked; that when she thought he’d cheated she barely gave him room to be forgiven so therefore why should he? Despite being angry the wizard did not hate her, nor would he encourage the children to. And, of course, he couldn’t help but notice he was now labeled as a ‘man’. Not her husband, just a man. However the impending statements on the tip of his tongue never seen the light of day, for the sound of a small voice calling out to the pair silenced him on the spot.

"M-Mummy?"

Gray eyes squeezed shut in agony. How was he to tell Lara her mother was well on her way to abandoning them all because of his insecurities and fury? How could he tell his little girl that the bond of love between her father and mother had been broken? Why tear all that she’d grown up with to rubble, shattering her world and the worlds of her siblings? Sevastyan wanted to offer an attempt to rebuild this gaping rift in his bond with Amaranth, but from previous arguments with Viper he knew that her mind was made up and she was going to leave regardless of what he said now. She even said it herself: why should she hope for salvaging their relationship if neither of them trusted each other enough anymore?

Sevastyan found himself torn as to what to do. He could continue to block the stairs and resume arguing with Viper, ignoring the trembling voice of his daughter... or go to Lara and comfort her as best he could, and likely lose Viper in the process. Which of the two should he choose? Lara didn’t deserve to be ignored... but yet he didn’t want to lose his wife even though, as both had likely assessed by now, he’d already lost her.

”M-Mummy, Daddy, what's wrong? What's happening? Wh-Why are you so angry?”

“I can’t do this on my own... but fine: vy should you stop at breaking just vone heart ven you can break four in vone svoop?!” he hissed at Viper before approaching Lara. With as much willpower as he could muster the wizard dispelled some of the anger within as he scooped up the child.

Teary green orbs that didn’t understand what was going on broke his heart even further. Lara was so young and rather bright... would she hate him once she learned her mother’s departure was more or less his doing? Sevastyan held his eldest little girl tightly and placed a kiss to her temple but had no idea how to explain her question on terms a nine-year-old would understand. Stormy irises meeting emerald ones, Sevastyan offered lamely, “It’s... It’s complicated, Cookie...

“Your mother and I...” he tried to elaborate, glaring in the direction of Viper. It angered him that she would not only sleep with another, but abandon the children that loved her so much. Sevastyan didn’t want his children growing up in a broken home... but it certainly was heading that way. She even wanted him to divorce her. How any of this was for the best for any of the children, the Russian could not see. “... ve’ve had a disagreement...” The wizard realized that explanation was terribly vague and rather pathetic.

For a few moments, Viper stared in shock at what she had done, and the mark on Sevastyan's face proving it. She hadn't meant to hit him so hard. Hell, she hadn't meant to hit him in the first place. She wasn't like her Mother. She loved and respected her husband. Even if times of late may have suggested otherwise. New waves of guilt washed over her, sending the maelstrom of heartache already consuming her into overdrive, over and over she spun round and round, pleading for mercy and her emotional Cruciatus to be over with. Part of her expected Sevastyan to hit her back, even going so far as to want him to strike her in retaliation. And yet, despite that aspect of emotions, another route lead her into even more confusion as another part of her, albeit a very small one, even felt a flicker of satisfaction at seeing his pain. It had hurt like never before hearing that particular question cadence from Sevastyan, and to see him recoiling in his own form of pain... It was all simply confusing, as well as painful.

But then again, the witch mused darkly, was life not like that in general? Full of unexplainable twists and turns, pain and fury? Perhaps life truly was no more than a game where pain and agony was inevitable and the entire purpose was merely to avoid such things for as long as possible. In that case, then game over for Viper. Game over, with no chance for bonus rounds, or extra-lives. It was all over.

Viper wasn't sure what to expect from Sevastyan after going off in a rant, explaining to him exactly what had happened, as her hysteria-plagued mind deemed as Sevastyan's wish. She couldn't help but feel a shiver of fear as his features darkened to an angry shade of red, in contrast to her paling flesh, still on guard, expecting him to strike at her in anger over her betrayal. The dry laughs emitted from him sent the dagger within her further and further through the shards of her heart, until Viper was almost certain it was touching her soul: mangling it, sending it writhing, pleading for the mercy of escape with the dementor's kiss, for the hollow shell of that demon was far less painful and appealing than the hellish imprisonment of her heartache-plagued body.

“Yes!”

Sevastyan didn't understand her reasons for holding as much as she did back. From the beginning of her diagnosis, she hadn't immediately succumbed to withdrawal and fled from his affections. The previous Christmas in which their daughter was sick with a particularly nasty cold, they had stood with a united front, with all the affections and love that had grown and blossomed from the early days of their courtship. She had known of her condition then, and was even on a few potions as a possible treatment. Huntington's hadn't even been a shadow in their lives at that point.

At least, that’s what her naive, withering mind had thought back then.

Exactly one week after Lynn's third birthday, a few days after classes had restarted, she had stood in her office about to leave for her next class when a wave of pain attacked her abdomen leaving her gasping for breath, as blood cascaded down her legs. Sheer panic filled her, for given her condition of CIPA, the spells she had cast upon herself about nine years prior had allowed an exception to her CIPA: she would feel pain only if it was maternally related.

In other words, if she was pregnant, and something was wrong with the child.

She had rushed to her Healers as fast as she could, fear and grief coursing through her, all of which were confirmed by a simple spell. On the same day she found out she was pregnant with her and Sevastyan's fourth child, she found out she had miscarried. And she knew the exact reason why: the potions she took as part of her medication for her Huntington's. Like most other potions, the Hungaria potion was meant for beings able to survive outside the womb. It was risky enough for adults to be treated with, particularly since her current treatment was more of a trial, test run for the potion. For infants, particularly ones still in the early stage of a pregnancy, it was a death sentence.

The demon slumbering within her emerged full-throttle. It united with the voices in her head, forming a monster of insanity hell itself had yet to know.

Do it! Do it! They said. Tell him! Tell him!

She didn't want to tell him. Hell, she went through various depths to avoid telling him, in an effort to spare him the pain she had endured through silent tears months earlier, and still felt to this day. However, if Sevastyan's words rang true and her confessions truly did cause him relief, or some sick sense of satisfaction at witnessing firsthand how pathetic she was, then so be it. She would hold nothing back.

"Actually, if you really want to get into specifics, not only am I whore, but a murderer as well!" she blurted out through her tears. Slowly, she approached him, getting a bit closer before whispering in a mixture of grief and hysteria, "I killed your child..."

"I-I was pregnant, Sevastyan... with a little boy..." she breathed out, her form shaking with long denied, silenced tears as her confession poured out. "One of your children died because of your damn wife and her ****ed up genes!"

A dry, hollow laugh escaped her as she added with an air of lunacy. "So how many times have I screwed up now? You know, it happens so damn frequently, I guess I forget! Let's see, number one, it'd be being born in the first place, especially since I am, like my Mother so sweetly puts it, the spare. Then there's the fact I was born a complete utter screw-up and managed to pass it on to your children before killing one of them with my potions..." at the word potions, she burst into a ream of lunatic giggles. "Potions! I forgot about that one! It was my bloody field, and I still didn't solve the setbacks of potions that ultimately caused your child's death!"

She smiled a look of utter madness, her emerald eyes glowing with lunacy as she held her arms wide as though she were presenting something proudly. "So there you have it, Sevastyan. That, my dear, is exactly how your bloody wife that you were unfortunate enough to meet ****ed up your entire life and the lives of your children!" she nearly screamed, through her tears as she clutched her head, closing her eyes as more and more tears cascaded down her face.

She paused for a moment, silent tears cascading down her face as she struggled to control her shaking breaths. "That's the reason for everything, Sevastyan. That's why I avoided you, I avoided the children; because the last time I had anything to do with you or the children, I got pregnant, and condemned our child to death..." she whispered. "H-Had I not been the baby's mother, h-he would have lived..." she cried softly.

As more and more tears fell, blurring her vision, Viper reached her hand, roughly wiping them away. She took a glance at Sevastyan to try and gauge his reaction after learning of the secret she had held from him for over half the year. She tilted her head slightly to the tossed, forsaken medical file scattered upon the bed, gesturing to it. "All the details of when I miscarried are in there, the bottom page. It happened the day I came home late. I-I told you I had a meeting with a parent I forgot to tell you about, but... I was with my Healers..."

A shadow of venom crossed her face, trading with the emotions of grief rather rapidly, though still bearing the same look of hysteria. "Oh wait a moment, that's right. I faked everything in there, didn't I?" she replied in uttered heartache, uselessly wiping away her tears, for it seemed that for every tear she wiped away, three more took it's place. She shook her head at Sevastyan, pangs of heartache and a sense of betrayal coursing through her as she hissed back in replied, dangerous musing. "I bet you even wish you had never strayed from Roxanne's side..."

“I can’t do this on my own... but fine: vy should you stop at breaking just vone heart ven you can break four in vone svoop?!”

The sound of her daughter's voice, followed shortly by Sevastyan's hiss were just accompanying instruments in this symphony of agony. "What, does my heart no longer count? Or are you now firm in belief that I have none?" she asked in a heartbroken hiss of her own.

Green orbs determined to avoid the gaze of their owner's husbands stared lostly into matching, younger green ones, as the witch stood, any words lost on her as to how to explain it all to her daughter, now safely nestled within her father's arms. How does a Mother explain to their child that they are an utter failure: as a wife, as a mother, as a Professor, hell, even as a witch! How does a Mother explain to their child that they are leaving, seemingly shattering their world, in an effort to save it.

Lara clung to Sevastyan the moment he hoisted her into his arms. The kiss on her forehead did little to reassure her, however, as the looks on her parents were nothing that she had ever seen before, as well as the distance between them. And like every child, the unknown was the unwanted, and something to be feared. With a look of disbelief still upon her, she clung to her father, resting her head unto his chest and tears continues to pour down her face.

“It’s... It’s complicated, Cookie... Your mother and I... ve’ve had a disagreement...”

The little girl looked to her father in confusion, gasping slightly at the glare she noticed him give her Mother. She'd never seen him so angry and upset... "Wh-Why are you looking at Mummy like that?" she asked, biting her lip to the point where it started bleeding, though the pain was lost on her, as the pain within her, as well as her fear, far outweighed the pain at her bitten lip. "Then why can't you kiss and make-up, like always? D-Don't you love each other?!?" she whimpered, pleading for an answer. She hated seeing her parents like this; alone and miserable, and wanted to help, though truly didn't understand what was happening. As far as her young mind was concerned, last night, everything was relatively happy, though with a few oddities such as her Mother's distance from everyone else. But now... now it all seemed out of sorts. As though in a blink of an eye, everything was gone and ruined.

Viper fought an urge to wince at the glance thrown to her from Sevastyan. She had felt his eyes piercing her and looked up, startled to see that he was glaring at her. It was yet another thing he had never done before, up until now. Her heart broke seeing her child's pain, as well as her husband’s; particularly since she was cursed with the knowledge of knowing she had caused it all. "Of course..." she whispered, her eyes locked to Sevastyan's. "No matter what you all may think, I love you all more than you will ever know... You, your father, your sister, y-your brothers..." she added, deliberately uttering it in plural form. "B-But sometimes... l-love isn't enough... Is it, Sevastyan?"

"Actually, if you really want to get into specifics, not only am I whore, but a murderer as well! I killed your child..."

Sevastyan looked at Amaranth with pure confusion. She killed his child? But last he knew their three children were alive... unless... No, he refused to believe she’d hurt either of the girls or Demyan. She may have her episodes, and he might not be the happiest man in the world with her at this very moment, but the Russian had at least that much faith in her. Or was it hope?

"I-I was pregnant, Sevastyan... with a little boy... One of your children died because of your damn wife and her ****ed up genes!"

Gray irises swirled with even further incomprehension at this news. She had miscarried? But their last child had been a girl: Lynn. Was this a delusion caused by Huntington’s... or perhaps a ploy to make him feel guilty and bend to her will? The death of a child was always tragic, but he knew nothing of this little boy she was claiming to have killed. And why was she telling him this now, when everything they’d built in the past nine years was crashing down around them?!

“Vot are you t-“ he’d begun to ask, but immediately silenced himself when she laughed and began ranting. Many of the statements stung him as much as he felt they would’ve stung herself had she not sounded completely out of her mind. Sevastyan tried to cut in several times to voice his own opinion, though she had a new sentence each time he attempted to open his mouth. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea for him to speak anyway. There was too much anger, too much hurt... and not enough love, he regretted to admit. As much as he tried to hold on, they had drifted apart. One ebony eyebrow raised in suspicion to the giggling: what was so funny about killing a child with a potion, and what did she mean by it? Sevastyan could only pray that this was merely a delusion and that the children were safe, all the while growing worried at the madness in emerald orbs he had once gazed into with all the affection he could muster.

The wizard discreetly grabbed for his wand as Viper held out her arms with what he thought was a pose of triumph. He had no idea what to anticipate from her next...

"So there you have it, Sevastyan. That, my dear, is exactly how your bloody wife that you were unfortunate enough to meet ****ed up your entire life and the lives of your children! That's the reason for everything, Sevastyan. That's why I avoided you, I avoided the children; because the last time I had anything to do with you or the children, I got pregnant, and condemned our child to death... H-Had I not been the baby's mother, h-he would have lived..."

Sevastyan blinked, enlightenment dawning on his face though by no means providing relief from this maelstrom. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know this, but it explained a bit he hadn’t known before. The wizard wasn’t sure how much to believe, given the fact his wife didn’t seem fully there in presenting the news. It could have been a delusion... but something told him there was a bit more fact to this tale than he’d like to believe. “You don’t know that... he could have died anyvay...” Sevastyan muttered quietly; a dry attempt to reassure her despite his present feelings. However, shortly after saying it he shook his head. How were the children to understand their mother’s reasoning for avoiding them? Was her comment about being the baby’s mother meant to truly mean she was upset with her condition... or was it a way of masking her anger at him? She avoided him because he’d gotten her pregnant – sought out another’s affection, which could very well result in another pregnancy, and behind his back no less – and was just now revealing this to him. In a way, it left many new questions unanswered. Yet, on the other hand, there were too many answers and not enough questions. Sevastyan didn’t know what to say, what to think, or even what to do with this knowledge. A hand ran through his hair nervously, for he could think of no better action to relieve the tension of the moment.

"All the details of when I miscarried are in there, the bottom page. It happened the day I came home late. I-I told you I had a meeting with a parent I forgot to tell you about, but... I was with my Healers..."

Sevastyan glanced in the direction of the discarded files, though was cut short the moment he spotted the sudden shift of mood, the malice in her eyes unexpected yet semi-unsurprising.

"Oh wait a moment, that's right. I faked everything in there, didn't I?”

The bottom page? Sevastyan hadn’t even gotten that far before discarding it. A part of him wanted to summon the file back to him and check, yet another part decided not to bother. If she was going to claim it was in there, chances were that despite her moment of lunacy it was all likely true. He cringed at her repeating his accusation, feeling about an inch tall right now. “Vy couldn’t you have told me you miscarried before?” There was pain in his voice. “Vy now, Amaranth?!” Gray eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I did not say you faked the records. You know I do not trust Healers...” Sevastyan attempted to defend his previous outburst, but knew it was a lame argument to some. After all, most Healers would only fake a medical record if asked by the patient themselves... and even then it wasn’t done unless there was a good amount of money being pushed their way.

”I bet you even wish you had never strayed from Roxanne's side..."

That did it. Sevastyan felt his blood run cold at his wife’s assumption. Without even realizing what he was doing the wizard released his grip on his wand, sending the arm with an open hand directly towards Viper’s face at a speed to where he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. “Roxane and I vere through eight years before I came to Hogvarts! She found and married somevone else vone month after ve broke off the engagement! She strayed from me! Sound familiar?!” Sevastyan shouted and turned away from her, not wanting to see the damage he’d wrought. His personal vow to never raise hand or wand to those he loved now lay in pieces at his feet. Amaranth’s aloud musing was more than he could stand. He loved her with all his heart and she had the audacity to think he wished he were with someone whom he’d broken up with on mutual terms some 17 years ago. That just completely baffled and hurt him. Angered him...

It felt like someone was reaching into his chest, tearing through muscle and bone to rip out his heart. He wanted to go on and on ranting about Roxane and how he would’ve left her for Amaranth had she been in his life around that time, but held back. Who was he to talk of love in nearly the same moment as having lashed out at her? “I can’t believe you vould even think I’d vant to go back to her...!” Sevastyan fumed.


"What, does my heart no longer count? Or are you now firm in belief that I have none?"

Sevastyan winced at this remark. He hadn’t thought she’d broken her own heart... The wizard decided to keep his mouth shut. Anything he said at the moment could be used against him, or could hurt his wife even further than they were both already hurting. The Russian didn’t want that. Amaranth did have a heart, of this he was certain in every sense of the phrase. Even if her heart didn’t seem to be his anymore, based on actions of the not-so-distant past.


His heart continued to break, yet soared at the sensation of his eldest child clinging to him. It made him feel wanted. Sevastyan only wished it was under better circumstances, watching his little girl rest her head upon him and cry a river of tears. He hadn’t meant for Lara to notice him glare at her mother, but it was evident she’d keenly observed it based on the small gasp he heard come from her direction.

"Wh-Why are you looking at Mummy like that? ... Then why can't you kiss and make-up, like always? D-Don't you love each other?!?"

Lines in Sevastyan’s forehead were made deeper as he gazed at Lara sadly, not to mention somewhat wearily. “Lara...” he sighed, expression turning to concern as he attempted to mend her bleeding lip. ’If only it vere that simple...’ the wizard mused silently at his daughter’s whimpered pleas. This was but one of several reasons he didn’t want to divorce Amaranth: the children wouldn’t understand and blame themselves for the split. Sevastyan wished this was like any other spat they’d had, where the chances of making up were plausible. However, there was just too much to deal with... not to mention they both physically assaulted one another now.


--------------------------------------------------------

Demyan strode down the hallway, all dressed and ready to greet the day and all its adventures! The six-year-old was fairly good at matching clothes to wear now, even though he still tended to put shoes on the wrong feet from time to time. But he was learning.

As he strode around the corner, the boy halted at the sound of his sister’s pleas echoing off the walls. Demyan peeked from his place, terrified at the sight he saw: his parents clearly not on amicable terms, his father holding Lara, while their mother held a suitcase. He didn’t recall her saying they were going to be going on a vacation... not to mention no one else had suitcases. And, given the anger he could sense and the words overheard from his sister, something had gone terribly wrong. It didn’t make sense – yesterday had been happy and fun despite a few inconsistencies such as their mother’s distance and the fact that Sevastyan had put the three of them to bed instead of Viper or even a combined effort.

What could’ve happened to go from different but alright to this mess?

Demyan could only watch from his position, frozen in fear as the events unfolded before his eyes. He didn’t understand what was going on, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but knew whatever it was it wasn’t good.

"Of course... No matter what you all may think, I love you all more than you will ever know... You, your father, your sister, y-your brothers... B-But sometimes... l-love isn't enough... Is it, Sevastyan?"

’Brothers?’ Demyan wondered to himself, noticing the plural. He didn’t have a brother insofar as he was aware...

---------------------------------------------------------------


Sevastyan winced and held Lara tighter – but not too tightly – at Viper’s words. She claimed to love him, but his shattered heart still bled from the betrayal. Being avoided, cheated on, and struck gave him signals of their declining relationship as being anything but one of love despite how stubbornly he tried to hold on to the fragile ties of affection that remained. He somewhat cursed Viper for throwing in the plural form, knowing he would be left to explain to the children how they nearly had a baby brother.

At the question posed to him, Sevastyan once again resumed the glare directed at his wife. It was a lot lighter than the previous one, but it was a glare nonetheless. The wizard blinked and sent a single tear sliding down both sides of his face, ignoring the pain of salty tears meeting the scratch on his reddened cheek. He was in emotional turmoil, he was angry... and now it seemed to him that Amaranth was trying to make him out to be the bad guy. Perhaps that wasn’t truly the case, but it was how he felt.

“Don’t drag her into this...” Sevastyan feebly snarled, feeling as though it was already too late. He could feel another argument bubbling to the surface. “You know damn vell love vould have been enough... I tried to love you! I’ve tried for Every. Single. God-forsaken day since you started avoiding us, and you kept pushing me avay!” he snapped, tears falling more freely than he had wanted her to see. “You are the vone vith the secrets, so you tell me: Is love sometimes not enough?! Because, if it vere enough, I'm sure as hell ve vouldn't have vound up like this!” Sevastyan blurted, gesturing to their equally heartbroken states as well as the suitcase at Viper’s side, and the crying child in his arms.

Little did he know that, in one corner of the hallway, Demyan also wept. Everything was ruined, and his father was yelling where his mother was whispering... why did his father have to be so mean? Why couldn’t they make up like they always did? How did it all happen, and what would happen now? Demyan wasn’t sure he wanted to know, afraid that it would spell the loss of one of his loved ones, at the very least. And considering it was his mother bearing the suitcase... Fury built up in the six-year-old’s heart at his father. The boy didn’t know what his father was saying or why, but a great anger and fear grew toward the wizard the more Demyan observed.

The moment after she had uttered the last word of her long held secret, she stared at Sevastyan, watching him closely to see his reaction, but was a bit disheartened to see that he still stayed rather calm. Almost... neutral... if her eyes perceived him correctly. Did he not care about the fact that they had lost one of their children? He loved their other three children dearly, Viper could tell, so why not this one? Unless his mind was set in the belief that perhaps, given the revelation of her affair, this was not a child of his, and perhaps was Victor's...

“You don’t know that... he could have died anyvay...”

A look of utter disbelief crossed her features as she shook her head. "We had three beautiful children, all from perfectly safe, normal pregnancies and deliveries..." she replied dangerous slow, with an icy edge. "Do you truly believe had it not been for these he would still have died?" she cried out in hysteria, conjuring one of the many trial bottles for Huntington's treatments she was due to take, and the primary cause of her miscarriage. One reason for the rather plentiful amount was because she had stopped taking the potions, quite some time ago. Still in the maelstrom of lunacy, and without really thinking, she hurled the phial in agony, at Sevastyan's feet, shattering the glass.

"Just admit it, Sevastyan. You don't care about the fact you lost a son. You don't care about the hell I go through every. Single. F***ing. Night. Knowing that it was because of me our son died." a dry hollow laugh escaped her as she added in venom. "You probably think it was wasn't even your son. Merely a product of your whore of a wife's numerous affairs..."

“Vy couldn’t you have told me you miscarried before? Vy now, Amaranth?!”

A new wave of tears washed over her. They weren't the same tears of heartache and agony as her previous tears had been, but equaled the same amount of pain, and were merely of a different brand: a pain only a Mother who had lost her child would have and know, added with the thorns that judging by the pain she could hear in Sevastyan's voice, was on he, as a Father, would know as well. "Every night, I-I see him..." she breathed out, sobbing.

She broke her gaze from Sevastyan and turned around, holding unto the vanity for support. With her new position, she was able to make eye contact with Sevastyan through their reflections of the mirror, but with what she was about to confess to Sevastyan, felt she would not be able to bear seeing what would be reflected in the grey orbs that once held an overwhelming amount of love and affection for her.

"I'll lay awake late into the early mornings after night, tossing and turning, hoping and praying, but to no avail. All I can hear are whispers. Little demonic voices telling me to jump from the window, to go fly, to dive into the lake, never to rise again. A-And amidst it all, I hear a child's voice. A little boy calling out 'Mama!' 'Mama!', 'Please, help me, Mama!' As fast as I can move, I rise from the bed and run to the children's room, but... they're all sound asleep, safe in their beds, protected by the veil of the realm of dreams. A-And then I'll see him..."

She paused for a moment, gasping her breath, her nails clinging desperately to the vanity in an effort to steady herself. So deep that crescent marks could be seen, clear as day. "H-He'll be on the ground, writhing in pain, his grey eyes filled with blood and tears, pouring everywhere. 'Help me, Mama! Please! Help me!'

"I-I do what I can and try, but... th-there's nothing I can do! There's too much blood, too many cuts. I-I'm always too late... Th-Then, at the end of it all, he looks at me, pale, shaking, drowning in his own blood, a-and asks me 'Why Mama... Why did you do this to me?"

When she finally made eye contact, it was revealed that like their little boy, she too was now crying blood red tears of agony, amidst the tears of heartache and longing. "How do you tell someone all of this, Sevastyan? Why would you want to let all this, this enormous, agonizing burden overwhelm another's soul, dragging them further and further into damnation? Are you really at peace knowing now what I have told you?" she demanded, shaking, with her pale face drenched in the tears of blood she was crying.

She added a few moments later in a whisper of ultimatum and defeat, as though it was the final nail in the cross she had so long bore and carried herself, as to spare her husband the wrath of hell she had faced every night. "Yesterday would have been my due date. W-We would have been holding him, safe in our arms, today..."

“I did not say you faked the records. You know I do not trust Healers...”

Viper couldn't be sure if he uttered his words in an attempt to try and console her in some way, yet couldn't find any way that would give her the impression he was trying to console her. With that logic occurring, she assumed it was yet another way of his to hurt her.

"So you assume I would pay my healers to lie for me? I-I don't know what to say, Sevastyan. Do you truly believe I would force that distance upon myself had I another choice or no reason to? Do you not know how it was hell for me to have to stay away, and cut myself off, away from all of you?" she sniffed, attempting to wipe away the tears of blood, leaving smears of crimson all over her pale features, forming a stark contrast. "Do you think so little of me now, and believe this was all just some charade?"

Time seemed to go slowly, yet speed up simultaneously, forming a giant blur of no recognition, the moment Sevastyan's hand met the side of her face. It was rather odd to the witch that despite her condition of CIPA, she was still able to feel the effects, both physically and emotionally of her husband's strike. Green weeping and bleeding eyes stared in shock at their owner's husband, as one hand gingerly held the side of her face. She could feel he burn and sting of his strike, both on the side of her face, and the pain ravaging her pained, shards of her heart. Upon her lips she felt another, different stream of liquid cascade down her face, tasting a bitter, metallic taste. She wiped her hand slightly over it, and brought her hand to her face, freezing at the sight. As though to add the salt of insult and irony unto her wound of betrayal and heartache, apparently Sevastyan's wedding ring had scratched her face the moment his hand had rammed against it.

"H-How could you?" she whispered in shock, as she held the side of her face, the blood of her tears blending with the the blood from her husband's slap, fully depicting the image of Lucrece, a spoiled, fallen angel, broken by the demons of fate, reality, and misfortune. She deserved it. She knew she did, considering all she had done. Hell, she had even gone so far as to beg for it. She knew she had pushed Sevastyan's last button by mentioning Roxane, but... it couldn't be helped, she supposed. Actually that was a lie, it could very well be helped. She was just too much of a fool to do anything but complain about the unfairness of it all, forgetting about her family and losing them in the process.

Despite the fear, pain, and shock, beneath it all nestled a small demon of anger, waiting to burst in full throttle. She was angry, angry at Sevastyan. How could he hit her and act like it was nothing. True, she had hit him first... but she was a woman. Was that not a justification in itself?

With a glance at her own reflection, disheveled, tear-drenched, and bleeding, she realized with startling clarity, one of her greatest fears had come to pass. Despite all of her efforts and determination, she had become her mother, Anette Viper: a depressed harlot, without her children, devoid of the love of her husband. Alone and unloved.

“Roxane and I vere through eight years before I came to Hogvarts! She found and married somevone else vone month after ve broke off the engagement! Shestrayed from me! Sound familiar?!”

She couldn't help it. She didn't want to say it, but it was on the tip of her tongue and practically begging to be released. It seemed that there was too much pain, too much anger. And not enough of love. Viper could only nod her consent as she released it. "I don't know, you tell me, Sevastyan. Did you strike her as well?" she fumed n response, matching Sevastyan's anger, all the while clinging to her now swelling face.

“I can’t believe you vould even think I’d vant to go back to her...!”

"I can't believe a lot of things anymore, Sevastyan." she replied coldly, with betrayed iciness entwined with her voice, with the blood red tears that never ceased, continuing to fall.

Sevastyan winced at this remark. He hadn’t thought she’d broken her own heart... The wizard decided to keep his mouth shut. Anything he said at the moment could be used against him, or could hurt his wife even further than they were both already hurting. The Russian didn’t want that. Amaranth did have a heart, of this he was certain in every sense of the phrase. Even if her heart didn’t seem to be his anymore, based on actions of the not-so-distant past.

“Lara...”

Despite the cascade of blood, Lara paid it no mind, her entire focus on the scene before her now. She trembled from pain and fear, as she watched her entire world, built on the love between her parents seem to fall, further and further down, making her doubt things would ever be the same again. "Mummy, Daddy, please! Make it stop! Please... I'll do whatever you want. I'll be a good girl. Just, please. Please stop fighting!" she begged over and over again, crying to the point where she struggled for her next breath against the ravaging sobs wrecking havoc over her small body.

Viper dropped the suticase in her hand, letting it fall to the floor as she clutched her mouth, stifling her own sobs. It was another whole new brand of pain, watching her little girl struggle to understand everything, to comprehend the knowledge that it was all over. She stared, frozen at her daughter's form, not sure what to do, what to say to console her. Only a blob of guilt was her companion, feasting on her soul, as she stood, her own tears falling, paralyzed in her misery and helplessness.

“Don’t drag her into this...You know damn vell love vould have been enough... I tried to love you! I’ve tried for Every. Single. God-forsaken day since you started avoiding us, and you kept pushing me avay!”

"Would it, Sevastyan? Would it truly be enough? Because love sure is having a hell of a time right now considering what we're doing over here." she snarled her own response, adding in a deadly, low voice. "If love had been enough, love would have saved him. Love would have saved us."

“You are the vone vith the secrets, so you tell me: Is love sometimes not enough?! Because, if it vere enough, I'm sure as hell ve vouldn't have vound up like this!” Sevastyan blurted, gesturing to their equally heartbroken states as well as the suitcase at Viper’s side, and the crying child in his arms.

"See, you even admit it yourself. Love isn't enough, Sevastyan. It never is. You can love someone with all that you are, all that you ever will be, and you can still lose everything. It doesn't matter if everything works out happily, or that the greatest of blessings are given to you, and you build a family together. In the end, none of it matters, because it is always taken away, ripped from your hand and heart and stolen from you!" she cried out in a hoarse voice, deranged and drenched with lunacy, plagued with misery, and overall pessimistic depression as in her moment of lunacy and anger at the world threw the suitcase over the staircase, sending it all hurtling to the ground, scattering all her belongings.

So much anger ran through her, so much pain, so frustration and resentment of the world around her and the hand fate had dealt her, giving her all she had ever wished for, and stealing it all away in the blink of an eye. She was like a soda can, shaken up, desperate for an explosive release. Desperate to release it all and free herself, she turned on everything around her. Vases, figurines, photo frames. None stood a chance against the witch's wrath as one by one each plummeted to their destruction, tossed to the foot of the stairs.

When it was all said and done, with all the fragile items surrounding them scattered into shards at the foot of the staircase, the witch struggled to breath as she clutched her head, feeling wave after wave of dizziness. Green orbs took in the hysteric form of her Mother with fear, clutching her Father desperately and tightly, now viewing him as her only lifeline, and only parent. However, the next word that escaped the young girl's lips were not one of anger or confusion, but a fearfully made observation that sent another wave of pain through her Mother.

"Demyan..." she breathed out, looking worriedly to her younger, weeping brother.

"We had three beautiful children, all from perfectly safe, normal pregnancies and deliveries... Do you truly believe had it not been for these he would still have died?"

Sevastyan should have known she’d take the worst possible scenario to his words. Gray eyes widened at the phial and her raised, hysterical voice. Sevastyan remained silent, not certain what to say. If he said yes, she could easily have a fit of sorts... yet if he said no he’d be required to clarify his previous statement. Sevastyan backed up when Amaranth looked about ready to throw the bottle, concerned for his safety. This seemed to be a day for many new things indeed, for the wizard never recalled his wife ever throwing things – particularly breakable things – at him in anything other than light-hearted play.

His feet... the one part of his body that was largely unclothed. The Russian jumped when the glass broke and shattered, sending bits and pieces everywhere. Sevastyan glanced downward in shock, finding that some of the glass had cut him. A shard or two lodged itself in the sensitive flesh. The wizard called his wife something highly unpleasant in his native tongue, an automatic response to the pain. He waved his wand to clear a path free from the glass and knelt to take care of his injuries, removing the glass and applying pressure upon the bleeding that followed. Sevastyan was thankful that, to his knowledge, only one foot and shin received glass.

"Just admit it, Sevastyan. You don't care about the fact you lost a son. You don't care about the hell I go through every. Single. F***ing. Night. Knowing that it was because of my our son died. ... You probably think it was wasn't even your son. Merely a product of your whore of a wife's numerous affairs..."

He hadn’t even thought about the possibility that the child could not be his. “OF COURSE I CARE!!!!” Sevastyan bellowed from his kneeling position, angry that she would even think such a thing. “That’s the whole f***ing problem according to you, isn’t it?! I’m alvays here, alvays around, ready and villing to comfort you! I’m your ****ing husband, for Merlin’s sake!! Vot the hell vould make you think I don’t care about you, or a child of ours?! Complications in pregnancy are not unheard of – ve vere lucky vith Lara, Demyan, and Lynn... this time, ve veren’t. Vithout being a seer, there is no vay to be certain of the future! Hell, if I’d seen this coming ve vouldn’t be having this ****ing fight!”

Panting from the exertion of yelling, Sevastyan couldn’t help but mull over the possibilities that the child in fact wasn’t his. He didn’t want to think that because that would put a crater-sized dent in all he had believed about his wife. About how much she had changed since meeting him. Yet... here she was all but admitting to numerous affairs if his ears heard her correctly. He would not ask, for it might get him slapped again. In his mind, she all but admitted it just now. Sevastyan felt about ready to be sick. What had he done to displease her so, other than give her a child that she’d lost? Had he held onto her too tightly? Pushed her away in his attempts to be close? She’d been wanting him to divorce her for some time now... perhaps his refusal to do so led to this. If that was what she wanted then he would sign them... his world was now little more than rubble anyway. “I never said I didn’t think it vos our son...” he muttered weakly. If it was truly the product of an affair, Sevastyan mused silently, then he really didn’t want to know.

"Every night, I-I see him..."

Gray orbs softened from their hardened stance at this, though the barriers went back up when Amaranth turned from him. It was sort of odd, making eye contact via mirror. However, he said nothing as she began to speak again. What kind of a man or wizard would he be if he didn’t at least listen to this? When she needed him most, it seemed, she had denied him... and now it was all coming out. How could he have known? He hadn’t seen any signs, and she had told him nothing.

She was right: he was ignorant.

Sevastyan visibly paled the moment she began discussing demonic voices telling her to do things. Had that been her reason for being up on the roof back in spring? He paled even further as his wife continued with her tale. Had he heard a child’s voice calling for either parent, he would have gotten up and searched for them, too... As her breath came in gasps, Sevastyan felt an overwhelming urge to go to her. To comfort her. Yet, at the same time, didn’t see the point in it. Amaranth would only push him away again. She didn’t want his comfort... she hadn’t wanted it for a long time, it seemed. Not to mention he feared stepping in glass... magic wasn’t infallible, after all. It was the knowing he’d be pushed away that made the fury slowly resurface.

The Russian closed his eyes in attempt to block out the mental image conjured by her words. Why hadn’t she shared her grief, so that both could mourn and then move on? Hearing her move again, and personally fearing she’d hurl another bottle at him, Sevastyan snapped his attention back to Viper. Gray irises and onyx pupils shrank with deeper fear at seeing their owner’s wife cry bloodied tears.

"How do you tell someone all of this, Sevastyan? Why would you want to let all this, this enormous, agonizing burden overwhelm another's soul, dragging them further and further into damnation? Are you really at peace knowing now what I have told you?"

Was he truly at peace? No, Sevastyan decided, and shook his head slightly. The depression weighing down his heart couldn’t help but assume it didn’t really matter how he answered: things were still going to go to Hell in a proverbial hand-basket. He didn’t know how to answer her first question. In fact, Sevastyan wasn’t so sure Amaranth wanted to hear any of his answers in the event he had one.

“It is never easy...” the Russian ventured, feeling as though he were walking on eggshells. “But sometimes it is said grief shared is half grief,” Sevastyan shrugged, being somewhat vague. It was a saying he’d heard from his mother... well half a saying. The other half basically stated that joy shared was joy doubled, but he did not consider this an appropriate time to talk of joy. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, at any rate, to assume that by sharing one’s grief it would make moving on less difficult.

"Yesterday would have been my due date. W-We would have been holding him, safe in our arms, today..."

Sevastyan had no idea what to say, if anything. How does one react to learning that, at least half a year ago, one’s wife was pregnant and then miscarried but didn’t bother to tell you? ... Then, on top of it, find out about an affair? The wizard felt like the fifth wheel, destined to be left out. To be the last one to know a crucial detail. A part of him wanted to rush over and hold her, particularly to comfort her and find out why she was crying tears of blood. However, after all that had been said and done until now... he couldn’t. Instead, he levitated a box of tissues to her. “You’re bleeding...” was all he said. However he said it with a great pain... a combination of the agony of betrayal and the ache of a loss he’d only just learned about. The pain of a shunned husband and that of a bereaved father combined. It didn’t matter if the child wasn’t his... it was still the loss of a child. His wife’s child...

"So you assume I would pay my healers to lie for me? I-I don't know what to say, Sevastyan. Do you truly believe I would force that distance upon myself had I another choice or no reason to? Do you not know how it was hell for me to have to stay away, and cut myself off, away from all of you? ... Do you think so little of me now, and believe this was all just some charade?"

“Sometimes I don’t know vot to believe anymore,” Sevastyan muttered, not meaning for it to be as dark as it had come out. “I already said I didn’t think you vere involved, didn’t I?! It’s the healers I don’t trust...” There was a comment about not being able to trust her on the rise, though the Russian held it back. It was clear trust had vanished – flown away – so there was little reason to state the obvious. “I don’t know how it vos hell for you, Amaranth – I don’t! And it is because you von’t let me! But it has been hell on the children and I, too!” he blurted in his heartbroken frustration.


Sevastyan blinked and swallowed hard, glancing at the hand he’d struck her with. He honestly hadn’t meant to do it... he’d just snapped, his buttons finally pushed to their breaking point, at the mention of Roxane. With Viper’s CIPA condition she shouldn’t have felt it, although that was hardly reason enough to do it... By the shock in emerald pools she’d felt the same sting he’d been faced with. The wizard wanted to apologize, hold her, tell her he hadn’t meant to do it or to scratch her with his wedding band. Yet he doubted she would even let him get close enough. Sevastyan wouldn’t blame her in the least if that were indeed the case, and thus didn’t try.

At her question, Sevastyan had to look away. He couldn’t take the sight of her pain combined with his guilt. Not even his father had hit his mother insofar as he was aware... and here he had assaulted his own wife. He could practically hear Maksim making apologies for him if word of this ever reached him. How could he, indeed...

"I don't know, you tell me, Sevastyan. Did you strike her as well?"

Sevastyan winced, stung and yet angered by the question. He almost wanted to hit her again, but felt too guilty about it happening in the first place. “That’s not the ****ing point! I never laid a cross hand or curse upon you until now! And for your information: no, I didn’t ****ing hit her! She! ****ing! Strayed! From! Me!!” he snapped despite the obvious swelling of Amaranth’s face. ’Just like you’ve strayed from me...’ his mind and heart wept in silent, crippling agony. “To be vith somevone else!!!!” Sevastyan amended with no small amount of venom.



"Mummy, Daddy, please! Make it stop! Please... I'll do whatever you want. I'll be a good girl. Just, please. Please stop fighting!"

The Russian’s heart broke further, bleeding profusely upon hearing his daughter’s plea. Even he, who had been taught adult wizards were not supposed to cry, couldn’t help but shed a few tears of his own. He didn’t know what to do to soothe her, didn’t know what to do to ease the torture of one’s world crumbling to pieces. If he’d known how to do that, perhaps they wouldn’t be in this situation at all. All he could do was hold his child and stroke her hair. She was struggling so hard to breathe... Sevastyan murmured a spell in hopes to make at least something a little easier.

“Lara...” Sevastyan repeated, his voice strangled in order to prevent his heartbroken anguish from breaking free. “Cookie... This is not your fault. Please don’t think that... Don’t ever think that...” he whispered, utterly crushed in assumption that Lara thought her mischief was the cause of their argument. At the sound of something heavy being dropped, Sevastyan glanced in Amaranth’s direction to find that she had dropped the suitcase and was also sobbing. He felt as though he was walking on an ocean of swiftly-breaking ice... the results of which would find him attempting to navigate the seas with not but a small raft of sorts made of frozen waters. Everything was breaking, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"See, you even admit it yourself. Love isn't enough, Sevastyan. It never is. You can love someone with all that you are, all that you ever will be, and you can still lose everything. It doesn't matter if everything works out happily, or that the greatest of blessings are given to you, and you build a family together. In the end, none of it matters, because it is always taken away, ripped from your hand and heart and stolen from you!"

“I’ve found that out the hard vay, thank you!” Sevastyan snapped. He was really hardly one to talk considering his wife’s diagnosis, but it felt like he’d lost everything. The wizard had lost her, he knew it, and she was one of a few “everythings” to him. It felt as if quite a few essential pieces of him were ripped from his body without thought or care.

He backed up when Viper threw the suitcase down the stairs. It wasn’t fear of himself meeting the same fate but fear for Lara’s safety that made way for the sudden, fearful reaction. Afraid Lara would get caught in the maelstrom of flying objects, Sevastyan did his best to shield her from harm just as any parent would if they thought their children were in danger instead of telling her to run and hide somewhere. Vases and figurines bumped into him... a corner of a photo frame occasionally scratched at his arms... Sevastyan didn’t dare move lest the shift somehow left Lara unguarded just long enough to get so much as a scrape.

When the last echoes of crashing finally dissipated Sevastyan looked up from his position of guarding Lara’s head with his own, orbs of stormy gray saddened beyond measure. Amaranth seemed to be having a similar complaint in the breathing department, but didn’t know what if anything he could do for her. Poor Lara, he felt, was clutching onto him in what Sevastyan could only describe as terror at what had just happened.

"Demyan..."

Sevastyan jumped upon hearing Lara utter the name, and looked to where Lara’s eyes were fixed. Sure enough, Demyan was similarly petrified and weeping. Orbs of storm gray closed against the sight. “Cookie... vould you please go to your brother? Comfort him... I must see to your mother,” he whispered, pressing a tear-moistened kiss to Lara’s temple before cautiously setting her down.

Slowly – tentatively – he approached his wife. “Vill you just take the damn potion? You’re having an episode and have made your point,” Sevastyan requested in defeat, resigning to the feelings that he was nothing more than a shadow of the past and that their love had gone beyond stale. In his mind she blamed him for getting her pregnant and miscarrying, and punished him with her distance. “I’ll leave vith the children for Russia first thing tomorrow morning...” he added in a whisper, practically able to hear the rockslide of heartache reducing nine years of love and devotion to a fine powder.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

His mother’s words rang in his ears, her pain causing Demyan to be even more upset, and even angrier if that were possible at his father. Demyan couldn’t help but feel as though he’d done something wrong to make them fight, be it an instance of misbehavior or they found out the supply of cookies were about three handfuls of fingers short. The child couldn’t explain why he felt that he was responsible for their arguing, it was just how he felt. His Mummy was breaking everything they’d been told to be careful with. A photo frame or two with pictures of him and his sisters had been flung down the stairs, and Demyan had heard the crash. The boy couldn’t explain the hurt and confusion he felt inside.

Emeralds squeezed tightly against the chaos around their owner, afraid of what was going to happen to them now that everything was being ripped to shreds. Everything was wrong... he could feel it. As per any Viper male born with green eyes, Demyan slowly reverted into his naturally-inherited animagus form and coiled up tight. His tail wrapped around a sturdy-looking table in case there was another instance of thrown objects, not wanting to end up tossed into the middle of it all.

The serpentine form of Demyan was much too scared to move, going so far as to visibly quake with fear. Even in his animagus form the boy wept, though the sobs were now little more than choked hissing. ”I’m scared! Make it stop!!” he wailed in Parseltongue, not sure how to convey his thoughts any other way.

Emerald orbs stared in shock at what their owner had just done, and the blood cascading down Sevastyan's foot and leg. She hadn't meant to hit him with the potions phial. Never before had ever throwing objects to him. In a light, joking mood, yes, but... never breakable objects. And never straight at him. Though truth be told, it was rather hard for the witch to pinpoint exactly what she had intended to do or expected to come from throwing the phial... Regardless though, it hadn't been her intention in any way, shape, or form to harm and cause pain to her husband. It never was. Unfortunately, as proven time and time again, what we want is rarely what we get.

She couldn't help but flinch in response to the native-spoken curse word that escaped her husband's lips, directed at her. With the years that had passed and allowed her to learn and become fluent in Sevastyan's native tongue, she knew what the word meant. Hell, she had used them herself at a few particular moments, and heard it slip from Sevastyan before. But never directed at her. It was a painfully definitive moment in this day, for it seemed, along with many other events, to sum up just how far their relationship had fallen and crumbled, into the burnt ashes of angel wings. Once upon a time, those same lips had kissed away her tears, fears, and agony, speaking words of everlasting, immortal devotion. Now they cursed her very existence.

"OF COURSE I CARE!!!! That’s the whole f***ing problem according to you, isn’t it?! I’m alvays here, alvays around, ready and villing to comfort you! I’m your ****ing husband, for Merlin’s sake!!"

"Yes!" Viper exclaimed loudly tears streaming down her face as she trembled, nodding with acceptance and adding in a lower voice. "That's the problem, Sevastyan. You're always here, always around, ready and willing to comfort me, and yet I loathe it since it seems that all I ever do and can do is take. Take! Take! Take! You're here, standing as the perfect husband, and yet I can't ever seem to stop taking from you. That's all I seem to be good for, and I can't help but hate everything because of it!" she spat out in sprouting seeds of resentment blossoming in her garden of misery.

"Vot the hell vould make you think I don’t care about you, or a child of ours?! Complications in pregnancy are not unheard of – ve vere lucky vith Lara, Demyan, and Lynn... this time, ve veren’t. Vithout being a seer, there is no vay to be certain of the future!

She started pacing again. Round and around she went, back and forth, spinning everywhere. The room faded into blobs and blurs of unidentifiable colors, with only one thing constant in the maelstrom of colors: the face of her miscarried child. Her little boy, and fallen angel. Crying tears of broken crimson doom...

"Mama... Mama... Why, Mama?"

No...

Mama!

Please...

Mama! Mama, help!!

Have Mercy...

MAMA!!!!!


"I don't know! It's just... I want my baby... I-I want us. I want everything we had before.... before it was all taken away..." she whispered in hollow defeat, weeping tears only a grieving mother, lost wife, forsaken witch, and broken woman could cry. She lifted her shaking hand, covered in scratches and blood from it's earlier encounter with the mirror, and placed it over her flat abdomen.

While she knew very well that her womb was empty and life-less, much like how she felt the last few months, there were times when she could swear she still carried a child. For a while shortly after her miscarriage, her mind had somehow managed to convince herself that she hadn't lost her baby. It had all been a mistake. Weeks would pass and she would will herself to believe she was still pregnant, and that the twitch in her abdomen was the child moving, and that she was ravenous with hunger because of the child, and not because she had become so depressed that she had lost the energy to even eat. Perhaps that was why healing had been and was so difficult... She could never let go, forget, accept or overcome.

"Hell, if I’d seen this coming ve vouldn’t be having this ****ing fight!”

At those words she turned sharply and suddenly, looking straight into Sevastyan, emerald eyes meeting stormy grey. It was a long, cold, calculating look, though with specks of barely concealed vulnerability, sharpened into shards of frozen agony. "And why would that be, Sevastyan? Because had you seen this coming, you would have opted to not marry me, so you'd be a free, burden less man?" she nearly sneered.

She was jumping into conclusions now. Hasty, uncalled for, ridiculous assumptions that a faded, ludicrous mind concocted in a moment of sheer panic, pain, and lunacy. She couldn't stop herself. Hell, Viper wasn't even sure she wanted to stop herself. Months of pain, heartache, and self-imposed loneliness were finally released from their tightly sealed prison and escaping in a volatile cascade of doom, like acid rain drenching a white rose garden of purity, corrupting it and wilting it beyond healing, leaving nothing but ash in it's wake.

“I never said I didn’t think it vos our son...”

"You don't need to say anything." Viper admitted quietly. "Your actions speak more than well enough for themselves..." At this point, it seemed there was no longer any need for words. She could see the change in Sevastyan, particularly in the way he now looked at her. It seemed any ember of the love, adoration, and passion between them had died, left naked and cold amidst a cold, unforgiving winter storm, past the point of no return. Never again would the grey orbs light up for her, never again would he smile with or for her. That era had ended. They had ended. No longer were they "Sevastyan and Amaranth". From this moment on they were Sevastyan and Amaranth; Shadows of the past.

Like old loves and lies, it seemed shadows of the past too, died hard, for now, as she stood before her husband, weeping as the last of her confession poured out, cadencing to her seemingly unaffected husband, memories of them and their crumbling and sinking love flashed before her eyes. They pestered her, harassed her, and plagued her, tormenting her with near forgotten, escaped memories of a time when she had naiively believed that nothing could step in between her and Sevastyan's love, and that their bond was eternal and never fleeting, and that as long as they had each other, they could overcome even the foulest monsters of the abyss.

What a pity she failed to realize that the Monster was herself.

The split and shattered bond between her and Sevastyan seemed to be written in stone now as she watched with a pained expression the rather stoic form of her husband. While she was well aware of the distance she had imposed between them, she had thought for certain Sevastyan would at least attempt to comfort her once more at the realization of the loss of their child. Perhaps then she would even have reciprocated the action and sought solace in his arms...

It was wishful thinking she knew, on both her and Sevastyan's parts. However, as she watched all they had built and blossomed for nearly a decade crumble to agonized dust, it seemed wishful thinking, no matter how delirious was her only salvation. Just one more aspect of her imaginary world designed to be her shield from reality, to allow her to continue her dance of denial.

It was all truly over. Sevastyan no longer cared.

“It is never easy... But sometimes it is said grief shared is half grief,”

Another echo of dry, hollow laughter as she stared in incredulity at her husband. She recognized the saying for she had heard it quite a few times before. Her episode seemed to move into overload as the misinterpretations grew more frequent and severe, and she added in a cold tone. "And joy shared is joy doubled? Well then, if that is the case, than you must be over the moon with happiness! Considering the fact you doubt the child was yours and assume it's the effect of an affair I've supposedly had, I suppose I can't blame you!" she retorted with barely concealed venom.

"Perhaps grief shared is half grief, Sevastyan. But it still wouldn't have been fair to throw yet another burden unto your lap..." she admitted quietly, wrapping her arms around her shivering form.

She pushed away the box of tissues he levitated towards her, interpreting the use of levitation as yet another proof of his new unwillingness to even come within a foot of her, emphasizing her newfound conclusion that she truly was now untouchable. "Why does it matter? It doesn't make a difference to you, and it's not as though I could even notice..." she whispered in a monotone voice of defeat, turning away from him.

“Sometimes I don’t know vot to believe anymore,”

The nails on her hands were being hammered in, one by one, deeper and deeper.

“I already said I didn’t think you vere involved, didn’t I?! It’s the healers I don’t trust...”

The ropes around her was tightening, suffocating her, ensnaring her. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and yet couldn't die.

“I don’t know how it vos hell for you, Amaranth – I don’t!"

The cross was rising, planted to the ground like a tree, testament to a Nemo walking a path of betrayal and agony.

"And it is because you von’t let me!"

The crown of thorns was placed on her head, piercing her scalp, embracing and caressing her raw, burning flesh.

"But it has been hell on the children and I, too!”

All Hail Viper, the Queen of the Harlots, Crucified in the nails, thorns, and cross of her own sins and betrayal.

Viper shook her head in defeat, seeing no use for words now. It was like swimming amidst the ocean, covered in chains. You could flounder all you wanted to, but there would be no use. The only direction from this point on was down to the icy, lonely depths of Davy Jones Locker. "So what do you want me to say, Sevastyan? I've tried to explain, but it's no use. You can't and won't understand me. Hell, I don't think you even want to..." she choked back a sob as she added with a new wave of tears. "Has your opinion of me been so tarnished that you think I don't wish to be with you and the children? That I would and have willingly abandoned you all for my own, selfish, personal gain?"

"Sevastyan, look what the loss of one child has done to me." she asked of Sevastyan, turning to make eye contact, silently begging him to look at her, no matter how foul and offensive he may feel the sight of her is now.

"Imagine that intensified by four along with the damn incessant guilt I can't help but carry over what has happened! Why would I have done this if I had thought there was some other way and that it did not have to be done?" she pleaded with her husband, begging him to give answers her own mind could not.

While Viper had once prided herself on the fact that she carried very few traits from her Mother and was dominated mainly by Viper traits such as raven hair and emerald eyes, she found it harder and harder to differentiate her identity with her Mother's with each passing second she stared at her reflection. She could even recall an old song Anette used to sing every day before bed as she sat in front of her vanity, brushing out her transfigured-raven locks. It was a simple song, one Anette had said she had learned from her own Mother, Angharad. It seemed that the Harlot's gene was a dominant one, for while it had ran and carried on past Anette unto Viper, the women prior to Angharad herself had been guilty of infidelity.


With a hesitant touch unto the swelling portion of her face, Viper couldn't help but scorn at how despite all her efforts, history and her ancestor's mistakes had repeated themselves and she had mimicked her forebears in multiple ways. Perhaps it was true: You could never escape what lies inside you.

“That’s not the ****ing point! I never laid a cross hand or curse upon you until now! And for your information: no, I didn’t ****ing hit her! She! ****ing! Strayed! From! Me!! To be vith somevone else!!!!”

Anger bubbled, frothed, and boiled over her. Liquid fire practically ran through her veins at this new aspect of their relationship. It had hurt more than she could ever have imagined watching the man she had once regarded as her Savior and gift from up above mold into someone akin to the actions of her father. A thirst for revenge and a need to cause pain overcame and took over her, driving her to jump in full throttle and hiss in reply. "And yet you still remained bitter about it all for how many years, again? I lost track after about eight or so. Hell I even remember when we first got together at my chambers and I asked you what happened between the two of you, you were still bitter..."

Lara could only watch with fear, trauma, and horror as everything she once knew and held dear crumbled and collapsed all around her. With each word that escaped her parent’s lips, she clung tighter to her father, as though that action would coerce them to kiss and make-up. However, that little theory seemed to blow up in flmes as the fighting only grew worse and her sobbing only increased as her parents voices raised.

“Cookie... This is not your fault. Please don’t think that... Don’t ever think that...”

"Then tell me what I can do to make it all better..." she pleaded desperately, sobbing unto Sevastyan's shoulder. "Please... Mummy, Daddy... why are you all so angry? Please... I-I don't wanna play this game anymore..." Over and over again, the little girl pleaded, begging it all to end. She couldn't understand what went wrong and thought it was all a game... Like those stories that her Daddy read and Uncle Dracovan sometimes acted out. She didn't want to think it was all for real...

“I’ve found that out the hard vay, thank you!”

Viper paused for a moment, staring at her husband and sobbing daughter, seeing an opportunity to counter him. She knew it was cruel and a cheap shot, especially as their daughter was struggling to breath even with the spell Sevastyan had used. And yet... whether it was because she was having an episode, or because she truly was consumed by bottled up emotion, she couldn't say. All she knew was that she had to say it, and there was no way she could stop herself. "Through me, or via Roxanne?" she asked with an almost sneer.

As the last of the breakable objects were flung down the stairs, Viper struggled to breath, panting from exhaustion and emotion that seemed to be eating away at every part of her, deep within. As the last of the suppressed emotion faded into fatigue, deep, welting shame took it's place, filling her. She couldn't bear to see the shock and fear upon them, and turned away, too ashamed to make eye contact.

"Mummy..." Lara attempted to break the silence, only to be overcome by fear and dissolving into tears once more, clinging to Sevastyan. While it terrified her to move even one step for fear of upsetting her Mother once more, in no way did she want to upset her Father either, particularly since she was still under the belief that it had been her and her siblings that had caused the argument. With that in mind, despite trembling with fear and shock, she nodded and did as her Father asked,

Her heart seemed to break even further as she watched her little brother mirror her earlier actions of panic, sorrow, and fear, in his animagus form. While she may not always have shown, especially with the numerous fights that had occured beween them, Demyan was one of the most important people in Lara's life. Not only was he her little brother, but also, though she wouldn't openly admit it, one of her best friends. "Demyan..." she breathed out in parseltongue as she crouched down beside Demyan, reaching out her hand. "Demyan, it's alright..."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Vill you just take the damn potion? You’re having an episode and have made your point,”

Yet another dry bit of laughter escaped her as emerald eyes rolled in disbelief. "And what point would that be, Sevastyan? That I'm a bad mother, a failure as a wife, a whore? There are quite a few and it's rather challenging to pick just one..." She paused a moment to steal a glance at Sevastyan through her shame before adding in a sorrow drenched tone. "Though you certainly seem to have made yours..."

“I’ll leave vith the children for Russia first thing tomorrow morning...”

“Don’t bother.” Viper uttered in a defeated tone. “No use disrupting and ruining your lives any further. I’ll go.” She declared as she began to descend through the broken glass and porcelain down the stairs.

Viper’s loud exclamation, confirming his caring for her was a problem, finally jerked a few more tears from his eyes. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing his pain. It couldn’t be helped. Why hadn’t she told him it was a problem? Why did they have to take this road? He loved her so much... why did she have to tear the floor right out from under him like this? What was she hoping to gain by crushing his heart so thoroughly? Had he not given her everything?

Oh, wait a minute... that right there was the problem... How silly of him...

“I’m not perfect,” he muttered, wounded at what normally would have been a compliment. If he were perfect, he wouldn’t be feeling so broken. So empty... so cut open. Did her statement of constantly taking mean that she took the love he gave, but didn’t feel it in return? Sevastyan dared not ask for fear of the answer he’d receive, even if she would say only to sink a dagger further into his heart. He had thought they gave and took their affections mutually... Did the ‘everything’ in her outburst of hate include him? The Russian could only assume the worst. There wasn’t enough hope to pray for the best...

Sevastyan watched her pace, on high alert for any unpredictable moves. Only if it was his last resort would he incapacitate her with a Stunning Spell. Vaguely the Russian wondered what she was thinking, if she was seeing reason or if she was still lost amidst delusions.

"I don't know! It's just... I want my baby... I-I want us. I want everything we had before.... before it was all taken away..."

“Amaranth...” he sighed wearily. Sevastyan wanted those very things himself... but the couple they were before was gone now, in his eyes because of her avoidance of him. Because of him always being there for her. Because he was only trying to be a decent husband, and instead created a problem by being so close... He was damned no matter what he did: had he cheated, they would be here, with himself in Viper’s place and probably pinned to the floor with the Cruciatus Curse twisting his body in ways a body wasn’t meant to be twisted. At least if he had sought another perhaps he would not feel like a plant in desperate need of care... But he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t. How many fights had he gotten into because of his own less than monogamous youth?

As her hand traveled to her abdomen, an overwhelming surge of guilt flooded him. Had they taken precautions, she wouldn’t have become pregnant and this would’ve never happened. It was a little late for pointing fingers and as much as Sevastyan wanted to point at her, he couldn’t help but muse upon the possibility that perhaps this was all his doing after all...

It was Sevastyan’s turn to flinch when Viper looked to him with eyes of sharp, icy jade. He didn’t like that look, and knew from other spats with her that it was not a good sign. He had meant that if he’d seen this coming he would’ve given her all the space she wanted. Apparently her mind had come up with a different scenario...

"And why would that be, Sevastyan? Because had you seen this coming, you would have opted to not marry me, so you'd be a free, burden less man?"

Sevastyan winced as though she had struck him again. In his opinion, she might as well have beat on him with fists instead of cutting him down with words. “No!” Sevastyan returned angrily. “But you’re so damn determined to believe that, that any attempt I make to elaborate is going to be blown off anyvay! ... I’ve never considered our marriage to be a burden!”

Where had all the time gone, and the love that went with it? Where had there determination to keep the other’s head above water vanished to, the weight of their broken hearts pulling them both down to the bottom of the ocean floor? What they had had was little more now than the glass shards at his feet.

On the inside, Sevastyan was hardly stoic. He was at a loss to do much of anything, certain there was nothing that could be done to fix this mess. The Russian wasn’t about to cry so openly and give Amaranth the satisfaction of seeing how this was eating at him, agonizing him... slowly killing him with the poison of their venomous exchanges. Like serpents in a pit vying for supremacy. Sevastyan felt he had been dealt a bite that would eventually be lethal, but only after a slow, torturous period of suffering.

The wizard shivered, feeling unfit to attempt to comfort Amaranth even for old time’s sake. If that was the problem all along, then what was the point of continuing as he had continued? It would all end up the same, insofar as he knew: he would try, she would refuse. The same painful cycle over and over, leading him further down a spiraling abyss he didn’t want to traverse. And now, after having struck her and saying so many things he didn’t truly mean... Sevastyan assumed his wife would rather smack the hell out of him rather than accept any affection he might offer in attempt to smooth this over. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to offer... it was because he felt like a toy that was no longer wanted and promptly cast aside. It killed him to see her hurting, but his own world of pain kept him from attempting to share that grief now.

"And joy shared is joy doubled? Well then, if that is the case, than you must be over the moon with happiness! Considering the fact you doubt the child was yours and assume it's the effect of an affair I've supposedly had, I suppose I can't blame you!"

Sevastyan was silent for a few long moments at that, completely flabbergasted. “You show me vone bit of happiness in this room! Vone measly, ****ing shred! There isn’t any!” he hissed at her. “I vould appreciate it if you didn’t tvist vot I’m trying to say out of proportion!” The wizard hadn’t at all been prepared for her to say something like that. “I vould not velcome the death of any child as happy news, no matter whose it vos! The only vone thinking the child’s father is somevone else is you! Or do you truly believe I did not change before coming to Hogvarts?! Don’t you ever accuse me of being happy about something like that!” The wizard’s face had turned beet red again; ashamed and furious that his wife would even contemplate such a thing, delusions or no delusions.

"Perhaps grief shared is half grief, Sevastyan. But it still wouldn't have been fair to throw yet another burden unto your lap..."

“If you can’t already tell, life isn’t fair...” he muttered darkly, quietly, also shivering. It was meant to mean the unfairness that was this whole situation for all those involved, not just himself. It probably wasn’t the best thing to say, true... but what more damage could they do now? “I vould have velcomed another child... even if only long enough to learn ve lost it...” he whispered, anger spent for the time being.

And here, as she pushed away the tissues, was further proof that anything he did wouldn’t matter. Anything he said would not be heard. It was irrevocably over, without any hope of reversal. When she turned from him, he turned away from her. Sevastyan couldn’t bear to see the pain he’d caused her, directly and indirectly. There was nothing left now... nothing but the broken glass and severed threads of all they had been. He swallowed several times to keep everything together, but Sevastyan felt like he was unraveling at the seams. A sniffle was the only answer he relegated his wife with in response to her question. It mattered because he didn’t want to see her bleed; didn’t want to see her injured in any way... even though by their own actions it had happened anyway. The wizard wanted to say it... but what was the point if nothing mattered anymore?

"So what do you want me to say, Sevastyan? I've tried to explain, but it's no use. You can't and won't understand me. Hell, I don't think you even want to... Has your opinion of me been so tarnished that you think I don't wish to be with you and the children? That I would and have willingly abandoned you all for my own, selfish, personal gain?

Sevastyan remained silent, not at all trusting his voice to such a task. What was there to say that wasn’t already said? He didn’t know what to think or what to believe. All he knew was the empty yet heavy feeling in his chest, the knotting in his stomach... the sadness in his soul, rapidly consuming. The wizard shook his head, at a loss to do much of anything more by way of communication. He didn’t understand, not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know how. They had gotten drunk on several occasions, together and on their own, and neither had done this until now for as far back into their decade as he could recall. Why was the night before so different?

He could feel her eyes on him, and reluctantly his gray orbs met her emerald ones. A maelstrom of emotions swirled within the depths, trying to understand, trying to put the shattered pieces back together. Yet ultimately trying in vain. His breathing was shallow, a bit ragged, almost gasping. Sevastyan ran a hand through his hair, hoping the action would help him focus. All it did was remind him of when he and Amaranth were just starting to become a couple... her hands tangling in the raven lengths... the scratches down his neck, his arms, and his back in loving caress... Memories that would soon be locked away inside his mind, yet always there to haunt him – remind him of what he’d lost.

Imagine that intensified by four along with the damn incessant guilt I can't help but carry over what has happened! Why would I have done this if I had thought there was some other way and that it did not have to be done?"

“I don’t know...” Sevastyan muttered, voice shaky. His eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head, a pair of fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I honestly don’t ****ing know...” The same hand covered the scratches she had given him, as well as the light bruising that formed, upon the side of his face. Fingertips probed the raised welts gingerly even though physical pain had for the most part drained from that area. Emotional agony didn’t fade that quickly.



"And yet you still remained bitter about it all for how many years, again? I lost track after about eight or so. Hell I even remember when we first got together at my chambers and I asked you what happened between the two of you, you were still bitter..."

Sevastyan was learning how a volcano acted rather quickly, using his own anger for magma. It was active for a bit, then it’d die down, then before you knew it – boom! – it was back and spitting liquid flames all over again. This was how the wizard was feeling. If he hadn’t had a sense of conscience, he probably would’ve struck Viper a second time. Instead he paced in an attempt to walk off the anger. “Vot the hell does my past failed relationships have to do vith this?! Don’t tell me you’ve never held a grudge; so leave it the **** alone!” he snarled.



All the while Sevastyan felt his daughter grip onto him tighter, making him feel even more guilty about fighting with Amaranth in front of her. How he wished he could help Lara understand, but such a young mind did not need baffling adult politics shoved upon it. Absentmindedly the Russian did what he could to soothe, hearing the sobs, yet so engrossed with his altercation with Amaranth.

"Then tell me what I can do to make it all better... Please... Mummy, Daddy... why are you all so angry? Please... I-I don't wanna play this game anymore..."

Sevastyan glanced wearily to his sobbing daughter. He felt like he’d just been through a war, only to find out his duty was far from finished and that he’d have to go back to the battlefield to face another couple hundred foes. “Cookie... I’m so sorry, but there’s really nothing you can do... It’s a ‘Mummy and Daddy’ thing... If there vos a vay to fix it...” he trailed off, glancing to Viper briefly. The wizard didn’t finish his sentence, punctuating his words as-is with a kiss to Lara’s forehead. “I vish it vos a game, sveetheart...” Sevastyan whispered to his little girl, dabbing at the tears simply pouring down her face. He wanted it all to end as well; for it to all have been a game... some horrible nightmare to wake up from.

"Through me, or via Roxanne?"

“ENOUGH!” Sevastyan bellowed, doing his best to cover his daughter’s ears beforehand. “I thought you of all people vould know... You’re the only voman I’ve started a family vith! And now look at vhere ve stand!” Yes, it was a voice of anger, but it was also a voice riddled with agony and hysterics. He worried what witnessing this argument would do to his daughter... particularly because it was doing one hell of a number on him, although he tried to hide it. Liquid torment swam before his eyes, blurring the sight of the woman he had loved for a decade now before him... at what was looking more and more like the bitter end of a marriage gone sour.

It pained and worried him to have Lara leave his embrace and go to Demyan, but Sevastyan could only deal with one distraught family member at a time. And, in a last-ditch effort to salvage whatever was left between him and Amaranth, he’d chosen her. He hoped they could partially mend the gaping hole they’d created, soothe the children together, and then find some other way to go about this.

If only everything worked according to plan...

"And what point would that be, Sevastyan? That I'm a bad mother, a failure as a wife, a whore? There are quite a few and it's rather challenging to pick just one... Though you certainly seem to have made yours..."

Sevastyan tentatively placed his hand on her shoulder, ready and waiting for whatever she would do in response from passive to outwardly hostile. “Love isn’t enough... even ven ve vant so desperately for it to be true...” he whispered, also defeated, in answer to her question. Pure, unadulterated agony and suffering took up residence in his eyes.

He followed her down the stairs, barefoot despite the broken items cutting at the flesh on the soles of his feet. “Vhere are you going to go?! Vhere are you going to stay? This is your home... Please vait...” Sevastyan paused a moment, having come to a rather painful conclusion. Perhaps she was going to live with Victor... “Vot vos it that he had last night that I do not, or have not had, for half a year now?” he asked softly one of the questions that was feasting on his bleeding heart, a plea to top all pleas shining in his eyes behind unshed tears.

“If you are going to... to leave me... I have to know,” he added, teeth clenched as though waiting to be dealt a final blow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Demyan at first didn’t even hear his sister approach, so scared was he to take note of his surroundings. He knew it was dangerous, being in this form with breakable objects flying about, but he couldn’t help it. The child was scared, and felt horribly alone. He wanted his mother, but he’d seen the suitcase. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if perhaps his Mummy would consider taking him with her. Demyan didn’t want her to leave... he hated it when she left him at home, always wanting to go with her even if it was a ‘boring’ trip.

A long hiss of sobs issued from him as his parents continued to fight. Not even his sister, who was adept at getting them to stop fighting about minor things with even pretend sobs, was able to succeed. ”No, it’s not...” he returned, though gently coiled around her hand and arm. ”S-something really bad’s g-gonna happen... They h-hate each other... Wh-what’d we do wrong?!”


At those two simple words Demyan raised his head, the small cobra’s hood extending to its full size in alarm. The sobs halted just long enough for him to see Viper turn her back and head down the stairs. He had no idea if she would be back, and it was the thought that she’d never return that scared him nearly to death. ”MAMA!!!” Demyan screamed, the sound as bloodcurdling as though he’d just had a limb amputated without so much as a hint of anesthetic.

In panic he slithered as fast as he could off Lara’s arm, making as swift a beeline as he could for the stairs. ”Mama, please don’t leave us!!!!!!!!” he wailed.

A small wave of satisfaction washed over the witch seeing a few more tears escape her husband's eyes. It hurt so much within her; hurt to breath, hurt to speak, hurt to see... Hell, it hurt to live. She couldn't explain it, but... somehow... seeing another's pain helped lessen her own. She felt like a monster with that logic, but then realized with her current condition, logic was an elusive surrounding. Maybe that would have given her solace, knowing everything she was feeling: the satisfaction, inward smirk and all were just extended results of her disease, but it didn't. To her they were just excuses. Complete, utter bullsh!t reasons she was throwing to try and justify everything.

She was a monster. It was as simple as that. She had everything: a loving, supportive husband, and beautiful children, but it still wasn't enough. Nothing ever was, it seemed. She couldn't feel pain, yet craved it immensely. What she seemed to desire was something that was denied to her, causing her to have to seek it from others. She had to cause pain to feel it. She gave it out freely, easily, happily, all for her own damn satisfaction.

As she paced before Sevastyan, she could only imagine what he was now thinking. Perhaps as he stared at her through his tears and anger, he regretted the past decade of his life. Perhaps he had reached the point where he would gladly sell his soul to have that era of his life back and prevent himself from ever meeting her. Perhaps he wished he had stayed with another. Any other would do, as long as it wasn't Viper. Perhaps now, as he looked at her, he wondered what it was he ever saw in her, what it was he could ever love about her.

The long woven tapestry was unraveling now. Everything they had, everything they cherished, everything they built was fading fast now. Viper had broken her side of their loom of life and now their tapestry; their children, their home, their marriage, was all coming undone.

“Amaranth..."

He was growing weary now; she could hear the fatigue in his voice. He was tired of being pushed away, tired of being left behind, tired of being forsaken. He was tired of her. This was it, the end of an era, and the beginning of a lonely one. She wondered to herself, not daring to speak it out loud that perhaps Sevastyan, had he had the chance, would have cheated on her first, had he known what their future would become and that his wife would break her vows. Assuming that had he known their fate he would have married her at all. After all, surely in all their nine years and multiple pregnancies, Sevastyan must have felt tempted to be with another, other than herself. Perhaps if he had known their marriage was doomed from the start, he would have opted to take his own pleasure on the side. Perhaps that was one of the many factors of the issue.

She couldn't quite explain why, but after informing Sevastyan of all that she wished for, she couldn't help but feel... pathetic. Almost pitifully weak and embarrassed, in a way. It wasn't that she was embarrassed for wishing such things. Far from it, in fact. It was just something about revealing her deepest dearest wishes to her husband that made her feel uncomfortable. Viper was well aware it made no sense. After all, after nearly a decade of marriage and children between them, they had shared just about everything together, and here she was awkwardly uttering a wish, one that it seemed her husband and her did not have in common. Perhaps this was merely yet another testament to just how far they and everything they ever were had crumbled.

“No! But you’re so damn determined to believe that, that any attempt I make to elaborate is going to be blown off anyvay! ... I’ve never considered our marriage to be a burden!”

"Do you think I want to believe all this? Do you think I wish you'd pray for such things? The reason I do assume all that I do isn't from determination, Sevastyan." she paused a moment, struggling through her tears before uttering softly. "It's to brace myself for what shall be a rather harsh reality check..." she added with conviction and a sense of foreboding, clarifying that she truly did expect the worse, and had little, practically nonexistent hope for the best possible outcome. Though, if she were to be honest, she herself wasn’t quite sure what the “best possible outcome” would be for the both of them.

She stared at him with tears continuing to fall, contemplating on her question for him. It would likely cause him even more pain, for it would imply that she doubted him, yet... at this point, what did she have to lose? She'd already lost everything... at least if she ventured onward, she'd go enlightened, aware. "Truly? You would have me believe that given the choice, you wouldn't back away, or at least hesitate before going through all that we had? I-I found that hard to believe, to be honest..." she admitted lowly, each word softer than the last, as shame on her severe doubt of him showered upon her like burning needles.

It scared her beyond belief that now, standing here before him, she couldn't remember so many things that made up their relationship. For all that she was, she couldn't remember the last time they had kissed. She couldn't say for sure the last time they had been together, for much of her recent memories of that aspect were centered around her recent habit of clinging to one edge of the bed while insisting that Sevastyan stay on his half, contrary to their regular, former sleeping arrangements, where there, quite frankly, no such thing as “sides”, as both shared the middle. She didn't know when the last time he had held her was, or caressed her features just as he had in the early days of their relationship, and all the days that had followed. And she couldn't remember to save her life when it was last that Sevastyan had told her he loved her and she was able to reply back with a light heart and full, utter conviction that she loved him as well.

It was with cruel irony that now, at a time when the last thing Sevastyan would ever do would be to touch her, now was a time when Viper wanted nothing more than to curl into his arms, into his warmth, and into his love. What a fool indeed, to have taken for granted all the seemingly small things in life, only to yearn for them all during a solemn hour. She'd never be in his arms again. To her, they would be hard, rigid limbs most likely wanting to snap her, rather than comfort her. Warmth had faded to icy aloofness and distance, freezing away autumn leaves, and any chance of a reborn spring's romance. With affection, it had fled, far far away, from her grasp. He didn't love her. Not anymore. By the looks of things, he could barely even stand the sight of her. Just as well, she supposed, for where she had once felt love and warmth from they grey eyed gaze, she now felt cold, hollow, naked, and ashamed.

“You show me vone bit of happiness in this room! Vone measly, ****ing shred! There isn’t any! I vould appreciate it if you didn’t tvist vot I’m trying to say out of proportion!”

"Well then speak frankly! Stop hiding between metaphors, similes and pretty words masking the truth. Tell me what you really think. Just say it, Sevastyan! I know you want to! Tell me you regret ever meeting me! Tell me I'm a whore! Tell me I'm a bitch! Tell me I'm a murderer! Tell me you hate me!" the crying had increased yet again. She was on a roll, spitting out venomous words that contained much meaning, yet at the same time none at all. "Tell me you don't love me, and now, you will never be able to, again."

"Do it, Sevastyan. Please..." she begged of him softly. "Just say what you really want to say. At least then I'll know for sure, and I'll stop my assumptions. I'll know what you truly think and know firsthand, just how far we've fallen..."

“I vould not velcome the death of any child as happy news, no matter whose it vos! The only vone thinking the child’s father is somevone else is you! Or do you truly believe I did not change before coming to Hogvarts?! Don’t you ever accuse me of being happy about something like that!”

"Then don't accuse me of happily cheating on you!" she snapped back, matching his emotions, bit by bit. "I told you it was an accident! I told you it was a stupid mistake that I would give everything I have to take back! And yet... here you are thinking it was all part of a master scheme. As though I planned this all, right from the start..." She truly hadn't meant for any of this to happen. True, she had kept her distance from her family for quite some time, but it was never with the intent to pull away from them to dash straight into the arms of another. She never thought she'd see Victor. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be in the damn country. She didn't think she'd end up talking to him, or that in a rush of alcoholic influence and a sheer need to feel as though she were worth something would drive her into his arms and bed.

That was the problem of everything, it seemed. She didn't think. Not of her husband, not of her children. All that seemed to matter to the witch was herself and her own selfish needs.

“If you can’t already tell, life isn’t fair...”

Those eight words caused any blood she had left that hadn't drained from her to freeze in it's wake. She knew that saying well, for it was something her Father had uttered, more like sneered, at her quite often, growing up, often with a cocky, smirk, spoken with the intent of hurting her. Was that what Sevastyan was doing now? Just throwing words to her face blindly now with the intent to cause her more pain? Let this moment of hell merge with all the other damned days she had screamed, wept, and suffered through? Hadn’t she been through enough of those days in her childhood?

“Daddy I don’t want to do anymore spell work. I’m tired!”

“Get up, Amaranth. I won’t deal with my youngest born being a pathetic cretin incapable of even producing a stunner. And what have I told you about referring me to that atrocious butchering of a name I at the moment feel complete shame over? If you must refer to me with a title, have the decency to at least speak properly and call me ‘Father’. You aren’t some half-blood scum on the street. You are a Viper, and you shall speak as though you have at least an ounce of breeding. Now, on your feet.”

“But I can’t! We’ve been doing this all day. I need to rest. Can’t we keep going tomorrow?”

“Are you deaf or stupid, girl? Knowing you, most likely both… You shall obey me. Get up!”

“But-“

“How cruel of Fate indeed to have it so what appears to be my last child, be no more than a pathetic whiner. What are you still standing there for, girl? Get up! Get up or you’ll wish you were one of the many purebloods that your wench of a Mother was foolish enough to miscarry. Up, I say! Now!”

“I said no!”

“How dare you. How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You better thank the fact that you are a pureblood and such blood should not be dispensed so lightly, for if you were anything less, I would show you as much mercy as this overgrown rodent you seem so fond of! Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!”

“No! Cassiopeia!”

"Do you see now, Amaranth? Do you see what happens to those who do not obey? This! This right here is what happens to fools who are ignorant, fools who are arrogant. The Dark Lord has no patience for such, Amaranth..."

“Da- Father, please! I’ll do whatever you want, just please! Leave her alone…”

“That’s a good runt. Avada Kedavra!”

“F-Father… I-It’s not fair... “

“Oh my dear, foolish child. Have you yet to learn that life isn’t fair?”

She couldn't say for sure if Sevastyan had known what effect those words would have over her, or that if he recalled those particular word's memories in her childhood, but regardless it still hurt. In a way, albeit a rather sick, twisted way, it was as though he were rubbing it all in: the fact that they were no more, that their marriage was shredded to pieces, and that her child, a gift she would have loved and treasured more than anything, was lost in time.

Consumed by anger, craze, and grief, Viper gave Sevastyan a shove. It wasn't hard enough to cause pain or injuries. At least, not of the physical genre. Just enough to vent some of her pain and anger at the world and Fate. "What, is that your way of rubbing it all in my face now, Sevastyan. Obviously life isn't fair, otherwise if it were I would be rocking our newborn son to sleep, humming a lullaby with you at my ****ing side!" she struggled to catch her breath, nearly drowning in her tears before adding. "A-And you would have still loved me..."

“I vould have velcomed another child... even if only long enough to learn ve lost it...”

Trembling with pain, grief, and temporarily spent anger, Viper turned him with shining emerald orbs. "The children are everything to both of us, especially to you. Right from the beginning, you always desired them, wanted your own. Who was I to give you a gift, but then take it away the next moment?" she asked softly in a weak, weary tone, her voice now hoarse from the shouting and fighting. Whether she was searching for merely an answer, or a justification not telling him earlier, it was difficult to say.

The sniffle of an answer to her question shoved yet another nail through her bleeding, crucified heart. She asked him why would it matter if she bled or not, and instead of going off on a long explanation of why, built on worry and care she knew he held for her, he had sniffed. Once upon a time, he cared about her, loved her, worried about her. She ruined it. She ruined him, ruined them. It was more like Happily Never After, now.

“I don’t know... I honestly don’t ****ing know...”

As the rest of her reasoning and logic spilled out, she waited for her moment of redemption, any sign that Sevastyan would understand and, if she was lucky, forgive her. Like always though, as it seemed, she was to be denied. All Sevastyan did was shake his head, though whether it be in lack of comprehension or lack of care, Viper did not and did not want to know. It all hurt so badly as it was... there was no need to throw salt and bittersweet alcohol on her lashed, bleeding, burning, crucified form.

Her eyes darkened as Sevastyan ran a hand through his hair, her memories taking her to a nearly forgoteen moment in their past when they had first gotten together, and it was her whose hands tangled in soft, raven locks. It was with painful irony to think that she had ran her fingers through his hair, caressing any and every limb she could reach to show the love and affection she held for him within her heart, and now Sevastyan repeated the gesture in an effort to heal the damage to his own that she had caused.

“Vot the hell does my past failed relationships have to do vith this?! Don’t tell me you’ve never held a grudge; so leave it the **** alone!”

In all her years of being with Sevastyan, she had seen sparks, flames, shivers, etc. come forth from and because of him. There would be flames they would build and fuel together, and ultimately quench to amorous, burning embers within their hearts and bodies. That would be their fire, physical evidence demonstrating what their heart felt, yet lacked the adequate words to speak.

These flames weren't even relatively close to their flames. Where their flames were fueled by love, this was anger in its purest form. Ironically though, it was a side-kick to that love.

"Considering the fact that they were even a part of the day we got together, I dare say they have quite a bit!" Viper replied, doing what she did best, fueling this fire with her own anger. "Be honest now, Sevastyan. Did you begin our relationship as a way to forget about Roxane? It's rather difficult to think otherwise, considering you brought up her bloody name and revealed your anger of the outcome of that relationship before beginning one with me!"

That selfish aspect of Viper had re-emerged yet again. She didn't think about the fact that they were yelling loudly now, frightening her daughter even more, likely waking up the other two children, if they were still amidst the fields of innocence in Dreamland, unaware of the fact that the nightmares that plagued them before were now quickly merging with the hell's paradise of reality.

“Cookie... I’m so sorry, but there’s really nothing you can do... It’s a ‘Mummy and Daddy’ thing... If there vos a vay to fix it... I vish it vos a game, sveetheart...”

Both Mother and Daughter had similar reactions to Sevastyan's words, both seeing it as the epitome, and their fates written in stone. To Viper, they were well into the land of no return, with no chance at all of a reconciliation. To Lara, this was the end. Her parents had gone from being madly in love with each other to barely being able to stand in the same room and have a conversation without attempting to bite the other's head off. All she had known and thought about life, all those fairy tales and her Mother's testaments that Sevastyan was her Prince Charming meant nothing now, and stood as no more than hollow ash, rotting with the sands of time. Much like what was left of her heart was.

“ENOUGH! I thought you of all people vould know... You’re the only voman I’ve started a family vith! And now look at vhere ve stand!”

“Meaning I’m the only woman you had the misfortune of impregnating out of wed-lock and got landed with, forced to marry! Ironically, yet again, it was another incident I could be blamed for!” she hissed back her voice and posture wholly reflecting just how delusional and unstable she was, with her withering mind taking only fragments of information given, and melding it into an entirely different perception and image. The words she had spat out were a dangerous breed of two evils that plagued her: the shadow of doubt that had haunted her when their courtship had become a marriage, and the demons that now ran through her blood, heart, and mind, feasting on the fragments of her soul.

When Sevastyan had first asked her to marry him, her mind had immediately ventured into the land of doubt and disbelief. Considering the recent split between the two and the damages that still lay still being mended with each passing day, gesture of affection, and spoken word of love, she questioned the motives for his proposal. While she had much faith in him and their relationship, she couldn’t help but think that the only reason he wished to marry her was for the sake of the child she carried, so it wouldn’t bear the title of a bastard.

It hurt him then, just as much as she knew it would now. Ironically, both episodes of doubt were shadowed by a conflict of theirs due to her foolishness. However, unlike previously, it seemed their love was no longer in the blossoms of youth, able to withstand numerous blows from the winds of destruction coming their way. It had withered, crumpled, and rotted in age, where not even the nourishing, healing rains could bring it back to life. It had died, never to be born again.

“Love isn’t enough... even ven ve vant so desperately for it to be true...”

She couldn’t help but stiffen instinctively at the contact, as well as shed a few more tears at the words spoken in the same defeat plaguing her. This was it, it seemed; the white flag to both of their surrenders, only with neither of them victorious.

Once again, Viper felt herself torn between the mentality to pull away from Sevastyan’s touch, and by the sheer need to lean into the touch and be comforted, seeking the solace and affection she had for so long denied herself. In the end, emerald orbs closed as their owner decided to stand neutral, neither pulling away, nor reciprocating. However, the latter was rather contradicted, for subconsciously, she was relaxing under Sevastyan’s touch, just as she always had before. It was a bittersweet moment, feeling Sevastyan’s warm hand upon her now-relaxed shoulder, as the witch felt her heart burn with love for her husband as, despite the conflict between them and what would likely be their split, he still wished to comfort her. With her eyes closed, she allowed herself the overly indulged pleasure of reminiscing of happier times, back when all was well in the fields of ignorance and innocence.

Lost within a mirage of an era of what she could only refer to as one of indescribable happiness, she raised her hand slowly with the intent of caressing Sevastyan’s cheek, returning the gesture of affection and comfort. Like a blissful dream, the mirage ended right at the height of happiness when Viper’s fingertips were gently skirting Sevastyan’s cheek, like the light breeze of a summer evening. Startled by how far her grand illusion lead astray traveled, and not wanting to cause Sevastyan to recoil in disgust, she pulled away, albeit a bit reluctantly.

“No. It isn’t.” she replied in the same, pain-filled gut wrenching tone, as she pulled away from Sevastyan’s touch, though with a slower, reluctant feel rather than the hasty, anger-driven one exhibited previously. It seemed that at this point, both had crashed and burned, with their flames left, shimmered down to exhausted, weeping embers.

“Vhere are you going to go?! Vhere are you going to stay? This is your home... Please vait... “

She winced in sympathy as she watched Sevastyan venture down onward after her, his bare feet cutting into glass. The display of such reminded her of her heart, with the aftermath words, touches, and gestures being her shards, nails, and salt upon her bleeding, burning wounds. “Anywhere. Anywhere the only person I can ever hurt is myself.” She siffed, wiping away her tears, though in vain, for with each tear she attempted to erase, three more took it’s place. She added in a heartbroken tone, “A home is only a home when there is a family residing there. Not two squabbling adults and three children caught in the crossfire.”

“Vot vos it that he had last night that I do not, or have not had, for half a year now? If you are going to... to leave me... I have to know”

While many of the words spoken and actions exercised caused Viper several aching, heart shattering blows; this had to be the worst. This was it, the fourth and final stage of her stigmata, and the ending of her musical, “Symphony of a Harlot”. Had what she had done caused this much damage? To her, Sevastyan had always been the definition of perfection and who she considered her gift from up above. Now here he was, doubting himself in comparison to the likes of Victor; Victor, a wizard who gave her more pain than he ever showed affection, spoke of his hate more than his love, left her with more regret than memories.

What had she done?

It took her several long moments to speak, as the tightening of her throat and the new, crest of all the waves of tears she had cried struck her, leaving her gasping for breath amidst snow white sorrow. “Nothing…” she managed in a whisper, shaking her head. “That was what he had: nothing. He isn’t the man I loved. He isn’t the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. He was never a man I even desired spending a life with. Nor is he or was he ever someone I wanted a family with. He’s nothing to me. I doubt I’ll even see him ever again.

That’s what he had Sevastyan: nothing. You have all that I ever was and ever will be, while he had nothing.” She hesitated a moment, her tears pouring down before adding in a softer tone.

“I was supposed to be your’s… Your colleague, your wife, the Mother of your children. Your partner in life. But… I failed. Each and every single time, I failed. N-No matter what I tried, I was never enough…

I-I just… I was drunk. Drunk and stupid, and in desperate need of a memory of a time when I was something, a somebody, and not just a damn failure! “ she wept, turning to Sevastyan, staring at his blurred image through her tears. “I’m sorry…”


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lara winced in reply to the tears racking over her younger brother’s even smaller animagus form, the sound of his hissing cries provoking her own tears to follow. What was she to tell him? Her Father had told her to comfort her brother, yet how does one comfort another when the question of what is happening when she herself can’t understand it. How can she tell her brother all will be all right when their parents marriage and relationship is falling apart right before their eyes and ears.

”S-something really bad’s g-gonna happen... They h-hate each other... Wh-what’d we do wrong?!”

“I-I don’t know…” she answered truthfully, tearing up as well. “B-But Daddy said it wasn’t just. Just… grown up stuff.” She offered to her brother, hoping that their Father’s words would calm him down, just as they did for her.

However, the young girl was proven firsthand just how wrong she was as the sound of their Mother’s voice echoed through once more, and he zoomed ahead before she could stop him. “Demyan, wait!”
- - - - - - - -

”Mama, please don’t leave us!!!!!!!!”

The cowardly aspect of Viper’s typical Slytherin character shone through as she tried to make her exit as swiftly as possible. Despite knowing her two children were nearby and the third likely up and awake in her room, she ventured on ahead, with no intent on saying good-bye. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t miss them… far from it, in fact. She would die for everyone and anyone in her family, especially her children. She merely couldn’t bear saying goodbye to the angels of innocence whose childhood she had surely spoiled and shattered.

The sound of her son’s voice caused her to freeze in her wake, clutching the rail for support as more tears cascaded. “Bunny, I have to go…” she attempted to explain, looking over her shoulder. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Be good for your Father, alright? I love you… So much.” She whispered, filled with emotion as she blew him a kiss. She wanted more than anything to take him into her arms, kiss him, and hold him until his sobs stopped and that charming smile he inherited from Sevastyan lit up his face once more, yet didn’t dare turn around, knowing that if she took him into her arms, she would never let him go again.

No, Sevastyan didn’t think she wanted to believe any of it. Nor did he think she wished for him to pray for anything of the sort. Gray orbs waited expectantly for the reason why she came to such conclusions about him of late. Her convinced and softly-uttered statement took him off guard. Had he done something in his nine years of devotion to show a lack of interest in and care for her, this morning aside? Did she not realize that despite the bumps in the start of their journey together, Sevastyan would do it all over again down to the letter in a heartbeat just to be with her?

"Truly? You would have me believe that given the choice, you wouldn't back away, or at least hesitate before going through all that we had? I-I found that hard to believe, to be honest..."

Apparently not. Sevastyan fell silent, lowering his gaze to the floor in hurt. She had doubted him each time he had proposed and once more she doubted him now. Perhaps even doubted him all along. He was both ashamed and angered that by some action on his part he had caused Amaranth to severely question his intentions and feelings for her. If only he knew whether that was the real Amaranth talking, or the look-alike that took her place during her ‘episodes’. “... I vould have done everything... exactly as it has been... over again in a heartbeat, just to be vith you...” he whispered quietly, voice trembling. “Everything except this morning...” Sevastyan wanted to tell her just how badly he wanted to re-write the morning’s events, but refrained from doing so. Wishful thinking and words wouldn’t fix this.

“... And yet throughout our years, it seems that you have doubted me...” the wizard muttered in an anguished undertone. With a sharp intake of breath, he snapped, “Is it because I am Russki that causes even my own vife not to trust me?!” Sevastyan didn’t really expect an answer as he was just blowing off steam. How he could go on about his heritage and ethnicity being the most conspicuous to certain eyes ever since the muggle World Wars...

When had been the last time they kissed? With furrowed brows Sevastyan couldn’t even recall. There were the small kisses he’d give her in front of the children, but it was quite a while since they’d really gone at it with the same ardor as when they had first fallen for each other. He knew precisely how long ago it had been since they had last been together, and in his opinion it had been far too long ago. Now there were invisible “sides” and “boundaries” upon their bed, whereas before there were none for they shared the middle. The Russian knew the last time he had held and caressed her but such a memory as of now was too painful to bear. Particularly because someone else had held her last night, instead of him. Someone else had caressed her... someone else had loved her...

"Well then speak frankly! Stop hiding between metaphors, similes and pretty words masking the truth. Tell me what you really think. Just say it, Sevastyan! I know you want to! Tell me you regret ever meeting me! Tell me I'm a whore! Tell me I'm a bitch! Tell me I'm a murderer! Tell me you hate me!

"Tell me you don't love me, and now, you will never be able to, again.

"Do it, Sevastyan. Please... Just say what you really want to say. At least then I'll know for sure, and I'll stop my assumptions. I'll know what you truly think and know firsthand, just how far we've fallen..."

Sevastyan swallowed hard. He really didn’t know what to think, or what to say. Despite feeling as though he’d been impaled the wizard still loved her. There was a danger in saying words out of anger, of which he was already guilty. “I regret... nothing!” he hissed with agony, another tear falling straight down from his eyes and onto his shirt, turning the small patch of cloth a deeper shade of blue. “... My only regret is votever I’ve done to no longer good be enough for you, and not being able to see it!

“You vant to know vot I really think?! I... I think ve need time apart. Perhaps I vill even just sign the papervork for divorce you’ve left for me and be done vith it. I don’t vant to, but vot other choices are open to us now?!” Sevastyan lashed out in a mix of sorrow, anger, and no small amount of hurt. It mostly bluff, but partly true as the thought had crossed his mind during their spat. “I don’t know how I can love you, if you von’t let me even look at you vithout shying avay from me! Sometimes, I don’t know vot you vant from me anymore!” There was more he wanted to say, but didn’t think it appropriate to say in front of the children.

"Then don't accuse me of happily cheating on you!

“I told you it was an accident! I told you it was a stupid mistake that I would give everything I have to take back! And yet... here you are thinking it was all part of a master scheme. As though I planned this all, right from the start..."

“Vot vos I supposed to think?!” he shouted indignantly, with a dash of hysterics. “You distance yourself from the children and I for six months vithout so much as a murmur of reason vy. How vos I to know vot happened, ven I am told nothing?! For six months I have entertained possibility that there vos something wrong with me, and for six months I have not for the life of me figured out vot it is I’ve done! Vithout knowing vot is going on, and vithout your reassurance and affection... vot other conclusion vos I supposed to come to?!”


As he watched his wife pale beyond her normal complexion, Sevastyan could tell he’d somehow struck a nerve. The wizard had meant the situation they found themselves in wasn’t fair to any of the parties involved. Yet, from what he was witnessing, Amaranth was not taking it the way he’d intended for it to be taken. The phrase had been used by Sevastyan’s own father, which he knew well, but only belatedly did the wizard realize that – knowing Lucifer Viper – it had probably been said quite a few times in her childhood as well. Hadn’t she mentioned something to that effect once before? The wizard couldn’t remember.

Sevastyan started at being shoved, like someone receiving an unexpected jolt of electricity. Physically, it wasn’t enough to cause any damage. Although, emotionally, it felt like another slap in the face and a further nail into the coffin that contained the love they had cultivated in marriage. His first instinct was to shove her right back, but the wizard refrained. Sevastyan already felt guilty enough for assaulting her as he had. Striking his wife brought him no pleasure, no sense of empowerment or victory... only further pain in realization of what he had done to a loved one. To someone he normally would not and should not have raised a hand to. He didn’t want to see her tumble down the stairs, acquiring more injuries as she went.

"What, is that your way of rubbing it all in my face now, Sevastyan. Obviously life isn't fair, otherwise if it were I would be rocking our newborn son to sleep, humming a lullaby with you at my ****ing side! ... A-And you would have still loved me..."

“No!” Sevastyan answered, raising his voice once again. Gray eyes closed, squeezing shut at the mention of the child they would have had. Matters of family were always a soft spot to him: go after his family and all else would be thrown aside to aid them, including his own life if necessary. The wizard could clearly picture the scene Viper laid out for him. How often had such a thing occurred with their other three children? Sevastyan had long since lost count, for he accepted every opportunity to do so without delay. “I’m sorry I phrased it that vay... just forget I said anything,” he muttered.

"The children are everything to both of us, especially to you. Right from the beginning, you always desired them, wanted your own. Who was I to give you a gift, but then take it away the next moment?"

She sounded so weary now, he noticed. So tired of fighting with him... or perhaps simply tired of him altogether. Sevastyan didn’t know how to answer, or if her inquiry was purely rhetorical. All he knew was that she was right about him, and had even expressed his thoughts about children to her. And now they bickered on while their children watched. Sevastyan could only imagine what was going on in their heads, and he didn’t like it. They were too young to be seeing this, and shouldn’t be seeing this at all. The wizard seriously contemplated dreamless sleep potions for the both of them to keep the nightmares at bay, and perhaps even imbibe in a little for himself too.

"Considering the fact that they were even a part of the day we got together, I dare say they have quite a bit! ... Be honest now, Sevastyan. Did you begin our relationship as a way to forget about Roxane? It's rather difficult to think otherwise, considering you brought up her bloody name and revealed your anger of the outcome of that relationship before beginning one with me!"

“Vot the hell... you asked me about her, and I told you, it’s simple as that! I didn’t think secrets vould have done vell in a relationship, so I explained! I vos bitter because it vos a petty reason that got out of hand that split us up, but since meeting you I have never regretted doing so even vonce!” Sevastyan shouted, agony and strain causing his voice to become hoarse and crack. “She and I vere over... for a whole ****ing eight years... before I came to Hogvarts. I vould never – ever – go back to her even if she vere the last voman left upon the Earth! I did not start a relationship vith you to forget about her! Did you start a relationship vith me to forget about Victor?

“... Vy are ve even having this conversation?!” Sevastyan asked a breath later, regretting his sneering return-inquiry. He held his daughter tight in an attempt to shield and protect her from whatever thoughts plagued her during all of this. “Surely if you doubted me this much it vould’ve been addressed before ve got married...” Tears shone in his eyes, but he refused to allow them to fall. He gently pressed a kiss to Lara’s forehead to try and soothe her.

“Meaning I’m the only woman you had the misfortune of impregnating out of wed-lock and got landed with, forced to marry! Ironically, yet again, it was another incident I could be blamed for!”

Sevastyan’s eyes widened in shock, and he immediately made to cover Lara’s ears before she heard too much. Children weren’t stupid, and Lara was the eldest, therefore it wouldn’t be too big of a jump to realize that Viper was speaking of how the little girl in his arms came to be. “I proposed to you because I love you! Ve vere not forced to marry... despite your friend Stefan’s antics as though it vere,” he hissed, glancing down at the child he held to make sure she was alright. “Vill you please vatch vot you say around the children?! For Merlin’s sake... are you trying to traumatize our daughter?!”


The wizard was not surprised to feel Amaranth stiffen beneath his touch. Sevastyan did not pull away, deciding instead to test his limits. What more there was to be done in demolishing their relationship couldn’t hurt him for he was already close to rock bottom with his nose ground into the dirt and sharp stones. She stood tall and neutral, and Sevastyan for one was relieved that though she would likely never love him again that he was not so repulsive to her as to be denied even a casual touch. Yet, if he weren’t mistaken, it almost seemed as though she were relaxing in response. It was familiar, and welcome, though with everything that had happened felt a bit awkward.

Sevastyan noticed her eyes close, a good sign in the past, and wondered what if anything he was supposed to do now. They were on the brink of breaking if not already broken, and yet here they were in a small gesture of affection. His mind was a tangle of emotions and thoughts. Alarm and adrenaline raced through his veins as Sevastyan noticed Amaranth raising her hand toward his face. Was she about to slap him again? Had she merely been lulling him into a false sense of security? The wizard stayed stock still with the mindset of whatever she saw fit to do to him, Sevastyan deserved. A few tears fell at the feather-light caress that ended much too soon, and in his mind likely would never occur again. Upon Viper’s leaving his touch, albeit perhaps a bit reluctantly as it may have been, Sevastyan removed his hand the rest of the way and let it simply hang limp at his side.

It was over. They had both lost, the floor pulled out from beneath them to send them plummeting to their own ruin. Flames of anger were now little more than spent but still-glowing coals. Their relationship had crashed, both parties too burned by the actions and words of the other to continue fueling the fires of rage. Sevastyan mused dejectedly for a few seconds just how far they had fallen and precisely how doomed their marriage was. If it was really to the point of divorce; if a simple separation for a while would help them mend. How the children would take to the split and how he would manage being a single father also crossed his mind.

“Anywhere. Anywhere the only person I can ever hurt is myself. ... A home is only a home when there is a family residing there. Not two squabbling adults and three children caught in the crossfire.”

Sevastyan hung his head, though nodded. She was right, of course, and a bit more lucid than she had been previously. His heart was broken but that didn’t mean the wizard no longer cared about her. “I only meant that the children and I could leave for Russia, so that you vould have a secure place to live... if vone of us must leave,” he murmured sadly, the gray orbs dull like clouds before a heavy rain. In a trembling whisper he added, “Despite everything that has happened... I don’t vant you to be in danger... I couldn’t live vith myself if something happened.” A small amount of life returned to his eyes to show his conviction, but wilted shortly after the statement was made.

Nothing? The wizard blinked with confusion, not understanding. He had been cast aside for... nothing. Sevastyan also couldn’t help but notice the past tense on the word ‘love’. Had he really destroyed their marriage, assuming Victor had taken his place, only to leave his wife, his children, and himself with absolutely nothing? That didn’t add up, but he continued to listen. Sevastyan needed to hear whatever words she would give him before she fled. Before she was gone and refused to return or bestow him with even the briefest of passing glances.

“I was supposed to be yours… Your colleague, your wife, the Mother of your children. Your partner in life. But… I failed. Each and every single time, I failed. N-No matter what I tried, I was never enough…

“I-I just… I was drunk. Drunk and stupid, and in desperate need of a memory of a time when I was something, a somebody, and not just a damn failure!

“I’m sorry…”

His wall guarding the ocean of liquid agony starting to crumble, Sevastyan noticed Viper’s form became so blurred he could only make out an ebony mass. He’d never intended to split up with Amaranth. Visions of them growing old together, never leaving the other’s side had filled his head since the day she’d said yes to his proposal of marriage. It hurt him deeply that she believed she wasn’t enough, knowing precisely what that felt like. ‘Vot are you talking about? You alvays vere enough...’ his eyes begged, since a lump in his throat had refused to budge so he could speak.

There it was... the something he’d been looking for. Gray eyes blinked and lowered, not quite sure how to handle her words. Victor had made Viper feel worth something in her drunken haze... a goal Sevastyan had tried to strive for even when they both were sober, but of late his attempts had gone in vain. From Sevastyan’s point of view she blamed him for the miscarriage, and it would not be a lie to say he was partly responsible. At a loss of anything more to say, Sevastyan returned his gaze to his wife. He blinked, sending further tears to their fates so that he could see her clearly. “A-as am I...” he sighed, then turned to look back toward the landing, where he knew the children were waiting, and heard Demyan wail for his mother. “They don’t deserve vot ve’ve just done to them...” he whispered, every bit of his body feeling as though weighted down with lead.

All Sevastyan could do was watch as his wife hurried down the stairs, fleeing from her son, and from him.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Demyan didn’t listen, couldn’t listen – he needed to see his mother – needed to know if he could go with her. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into his parents, but he was pretty sure that his father was the cause of all the pain. Every ounce of pain, sorrow, and tears were all Sevastyan Kaminski’s fault. The boy-snake however came to a screeching halt at the foot of the stairs firstly to see without getting too close to the eye of the hurricane, but also because he had spotted the broken glass and other sharp fragments that would surely result in terrible if not fatal injury if he were to slither or even walk down.

“But why do you have to go? Can’t we go with you, jus’ like on vacation?” he called in fluent Parseltongue, even his serpent-voice etched with pain at the thought his mother was going to leave and might never return. “... When will you come back home?”

“Be good for your Father, alright? I love you… So much.”

For both father and son, those last few words carved their fates into stone. To Sevastyan it symbolized that Amaranth wanted nothing more to do with him, and that they were officially over. To Demyan... well, at the tender age of six it was practically the end of the world as he knew it. “Then stay here with us! Please don’t go!” the boy sobbed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sevastyan had no idea what he was supposed to do. Amaranth was nearly out the door, his children were crying, and he himself was minorly injured. Gray eyes surveyed the mess that lay before him and at his feet. It would all have to be cleaned up before any of his children so much as thought of going to the kitchen for a snack. Everything around him seemed in ruin. It seemed now that even the chaos had died, and now they were left with the aftermath of the storm with little more than a hope that they could rebuild what had been lost.

Knowing there was nothing he could do or say to make Amaranth change her mind, Sevastyan half-heartedly began trudging back up the stairs. “I vill send you an owl... Saturday...” he whispered, exhaustion permeating his tone even though he had awakened not long ago. As he slowly climbed the stairs for to keep the glass from furthering its journey into his feet, the wizard could only hope that his children did not hate him after witnessing the horrific fight. No, not a fight... a war, it seemed like. A war to signal the end of one age and the beginning of another that was to be filled with loneliness and pain.

Bloodied footprints followed the wizard’s steps. Sevastyan’s gait would have easily reminded an outsider of a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. Reaching the landing with a cry of agony, the Russian fell to his knees. He tried not to show too much weakness in front of the people he loved, but it was becoming harder and harder to maintain the charade.

“Lara... Demyan...” he panted, voice cracking as he surveyed the pair. Sevastyan swallowed hard, hoping and praying they would not see him as a monster that was driving their mother away; that they would accept the affection he would always offer them, instead of shunning it. “I’m so sorry...” he whispered, holding an arm open for them to run to in the event both still found him worthy of giving the solace and love only a father could provide.