&. black out days.

MORALLY G R E Y. { The image of deception }. Someone who hates neutrality and takes the side of the oppressor because she doesn’t want to be on a side that calls themselves an “Order” but has n o n e. Part of a side that has her twin brother, the person she will protect with her life — and has before. She took all the hurt Apollo was supposed to get as children. And she did so willingly.  

But Artemis is by no means a hero. And she is by no means a good person, at least, not in the traditional sense.

Her earliest human memory?

[ “The problem with memory is that it can easily be altered by what the mind wants, rather, than what really is. You could ask me a million times, and I could easily have a million separate answers. Besides, my earliest human memory? Are you implying that I’m anything but human? What other memories would I have if not human? Unless, I was a creature of some sort. I’m one hundred percent human.”

{ All Artemis can remember is her brother. Yes, usually her memory is sharper than Goblin made steel but she’s tried to forget. She can remember her cousins of course, but it’s Apollo, his eyes, her looking in the mirror, and his eyes behind her. Blue orbs filled with guilt.

“You didn’t have to —- ”

“It doesn’t matter." she says as she wipes the blood from her cheek.

The scar is a barely noticeable, but, it’s there. She remembers him kissing it.

"Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me for protecting you.” } ]

She gets the Dark Mark because her brother who is too good for this world refuses to & the message that was sent to her was —grow up. Grow out of your childhood and into the world around you. Stop looking at the stars and wishing upon them, stop doing anything you love because it will be taken away.

                 P r e p a r e yourself for something B I G.

Apollo is her twin, her life, the person she loves more than herself and she had to push him away to protect him. Does she believe in the Death Eaters? Not at all, she believes neutrality is the greatest of sins, especially in times of moral crisis. She believes e v e r y o n e, no matter what their blood status, has a use. She believes that desperate times call for desperate measures.

               But who is Artemis Carrow?

She’s the type of girl who used to sneak muggle books into the Carrow Manor and g i g g l e with her brother, run around the castle with him playing hide and seek. Falling asleep in his arms at their manor after looking up at the stars, challenging herself, trying to name every and any constellation. She’s the girl who’s innocence was stolen from her, but adapted to the new reality because it was what she had to do.

Artemis is a Ravenclaw, she’s logical and has learned to shut her emotions off like a light switch. It’s easy, it’s far too easy now, and she knows that she could be slowly losing her humanity. But she’s protecting Apollo. A n y t h i n g to protect Apollo. The girl has finally learned how to play the game that all Purebloods play — as if she didn’t talk in riddles before, now lies r o l l off her tongue so easily, she makes herself believe them, just for that moment. Mudblood, halfbreed, words that are disgusting and despicable to her, she f o r c e s herself to say. Oh, how she loves words, books, everything under the sun that involves any sort of literature — and she takes it seriously. Her word used to mean something, words always meant something, but now they seem to be worthless. Shallow. Artemis walks with grace, she smiles and laughs about genocide while she feels parts of who she was slowly dying.

She must pull off this act, because she knows Apollo is incapable. He is too good for this world, he is too wonderful, he is too BRIGHT. The sun.

                                      Her SUN.  

And she is the moon. Much like her name sake, she is a protector of young girls as well, strangely. She’ll kill neutrals, she’ll kill DA members if she must, but girls, people too good for this world, people who remind her of Apollo, even in the slightest way, are almost always spared. Artemis is teetering on a line, and has taught herself to tightrope walk into and out of the darkness that her brother wants to save her from. He never gives up, but she never gives in.

Yes, she hates neutrality, but she can’t become a monster. She isn’t like the brainwashed puppets around her. Does that make her worse? She ponders it. Before, when the thought of killing, the thought of hurting anyone was something so vile to her, she has now gotten used to it. She plans it and while simultaneously thinking about how she can protect the select few she loves, but always Apollo.

                                        Always Apollo.

Artemis slowly gives up her humanity to protect him, she turns off switches, she has to make sure he survives. She can no longer sit under the stars, she can no longer let herself read so much that it soothes her soul, she must become more ruthless, she must CUT out her heart and put it in a box where no one can find it. Though, it’s taking far too long. It’s more painful than she ever anticipated.

There’s a part of her that wonders if she could be a double agent, but who would trust her? Artemis Carrow barely trusts her own actions. It wouldn’t be wise to.

“Artemis, it doesn’t have to be like this — we can find another way.”

“There is no other way.”

Still, sometimes she looks up at the stars and wonders: what if? If the cosmos can still live, if the world is still turning under her feet despite the d e v a s t a t i o n .. —

W H A T    I F ?

SOME CONNECTIONS: 

Someone who indulges Artemis in her riddles and challenges her back. The girl loves to talk in riddles, but someone who just sees through it. Or they can riddle her back.

Maybe another Pureblood that sees that Artemis really isn’t all bad at all, and that she actually is somewhat struggling and is doing what she is to protect her brother.