" a darkness that holds me,
and loves when I bleed,
it locks all the doors and then hides all the keys,
wish someone had told me what I couldn't see,
a glimmer of hope that was staring at me "
fred weasley x female oc
golden trio era
...
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IT HAS LONGBEEN said, that 'ignorance is bliss'. That as long as you don't know of something, you aren't privy to fussing over it's worries and dizzying yourself into a stupor. You can live a complete life without even batting an eye at anything but yourself. You have the fortunate unawareness of something unpleasant happening. Though, the common use of the term is usually when speaking in regards of children. Surely, they'd know far less than adults, therefore, they're allowed to enjoy their easy and fun days without the predisposed 'weight of the world' on their little shoulders.
In honesty, Rebecca Artemis Carrow was fairly certain that she'd never fall into the category as purposely obtuse; or that her life was anything as blissfully ignorant as that poet, Thomas Gray had once wrote about. It wasn't in her nature to be so blind to her own surroundings – the girl was so sure that she saw everything going on around her. She could pinpoint the very day that the leaves would begin their change from emerald to maroon then to auburn and gold. She was hyperaware of the shadows that frequented her childhood house, lurking behind every crevice; just waiting for her to wander herself a single toe out of line.
Like most pureblooded children, she was raised in the idea that her family name and their status meant more than anything. It was the single thing that kept the world spinning in their prideful minds – meaning, the collective was worth far more than the measly individual. Once that individual began to speak for themselves, especially at the cost of the family's name or standing; they'd be facing the wrath of one or more of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
Everything Rebecca did — everything she managed to accomplish from the moment she could walk on her own two feet — was based around, and connected to the fact that her blood wasn't tainted. Her mother, Alecto Carrow, upheld the same sadistic and conservative ideals of the rest of the purebloods did; treating anyone or anything not of pure lineage as if they were beneath her. She'd go as far as abuse house-elves for the smallest, most mundane things; purposely in front of her children to set the standard upon their impressionable minds.
Growing up, within the walls of the ancient Carrow family home, Rebecca felt as if her life was just as normal as any other child's. Her family was just as twenty-seven others, surely, they were all the same. Or, at least, that's the way it had seemed at first in her young perspective. Though, perhaps it's because she just wasn't as observant as she originally thought. The young girl never seemed to notice the looks of distaste her own mother would give her once her back was turned; the sneers, and glares, and scattered mutters under her breath.
Rather fortunately, she didn't realize how closed off she had become as a child, actively choosing to stay inside to play a game of Wizarding Chess against her nanny elf rather than frolic outside to scrape up her knees and palms. She wasn't exactly the most energetic of children – at least, not as time progressed and she grew older. She had been kept inside the familiar dreary walls of the château since before she could remember, talking and sitting amongst the house's staff for some playful banter and mental stimulation, while her brother, Roan, and his friends ran through the halls, laughing and giggling; unknowingly passing the very room she'd be confined in.
Though, in turn, all the time spent with the house-elves proved fruitful. The small creatures had ended up caring for her unconditionally, unlike the forceful labor and commitment that bound them to the other members of the household. They'd take turns sneaking biscuits to the young girl, simply spending time or even teaching her to tie her shoes or the little bows that donned the ends of her hair each morning.
And while she seemed to remain oblivious to her own mother, Rebecca was observant in all else. There wasn't a day that would pass that she wouldn't be caught at the top of the spiral steps – simply watching the commotion and conversation below her with such calculation. Her little eyes were always scouring the room she stood in, watching numerous shadowy figures swoop in and out of the entrance way and into the far drawing room. There was always people entering and exiting the home, returning in due time and in the same routine. Rebecca and her brother were to report to their rooms the very second they heard three consecutive knocks on the front door — no matter what.
Unbeknownst to the two children in the floor above, there'd be secret meetings going on downstairs. Ones they'd always have to pretend they never knew about; ones that they had no recollection of once their guests would leave the gated perimeters. Their minds wiped clean of any interaction, should they be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Memories lost to a simple, repeated spell – all in the matter of mere seconds and the pass of a wand.
And while the divides through all the different types of witches and wizards never made any sense to her, Rebecca would merely nod her head along to her mother's words, agreeing mindlessly just to get her to leave her alone. It was Roan, her elder brother, who had taught her from the first punishment she had received by their mother's hand – to simply go along with it all.
"Never anger her," he would say in a hushed tone, his young voice strained slightly as he ran a finger over the rapidly fading bruise on his sister's cheek, "just nod at whatever she says — speak only when spoken to – and you'll be okay."
The dark, auburn haired boy was cunning and ambitious as Slytherins came, there was no doubt about it. But Roan didn't have a single trait of leadership, nor was he ever the kindest to anyone outside his own family. Though, it was to be expected, having grown up confined to the walls of the Carrow house and simply not allowed passed the property of the house except for school – he knew nothing other than striving for familial protection and preservation.
It was to be said, at least in his own eyes, his little sister was the interesting one. Rebecca had the smarts for schemes and a bright mind – when she cared to actually use it. She well off could've been the family's golden child if it weren't for the clear dislike their mother had held like a constant rain cloud over her head. Though, it was because he knew her so well; that he knew that her thoughts and true self was usually hidden behind some form of literature and a stark, blank face.
It was the same wall of childhood innocence that had kept Rebecca safe from her own family. Not once did Roan see his younger sister truly smile, from what he could remember, the corners of her smile never quite met her eyes – the false confidence was pushed onto her shoulders like a heavy cloak. The girl was always calmed face, no smile lines around her lips nor crinkles by the corners of her eyes like any other child would have. She was a blank slate of porcelain, yet to be touched or painted over. Yet to be broken.
