AN: Okay. I know there is a total lack of HP characters. Don't worry. They will be there. There's more info on this in my profile if you want it. They summary is not lying, I promise. Now, enjoy!

Standard disclaimer applies.

The drop of water balanced precariously above the rim of her eye before falling, leaving a salty track down her cheek. Her hands shook as the tear dripped from her chin onto the worn, creased sheet of parchment that she could no longer read through the moisture both in her eyes and collecting on the letter, smudging the ink. She didn't bother to hold back a sob, the people lining the table on either side of her finally noticing her anguish. Her dearest friends looked to her with worry and concern, and the others with morbid curiosity. When she proved deaf to their anxious inquiries, they turned to the letter that held her tortured attention. As they reached for it, however, it burned to fine ash beneath her fingertips by a burst of uncontrolled magical grief and fury, something that hadn't happened to her since she was a child, as though destroying it would make the words upon the paper less true.

It didn't help. The message was burned into her vision, carved into her mind. The power that set flame to the parchment didn't stop, rolling off of her in waves, heat and crushing misery destroying and igniting everything around her. She didn't stop it, didn't notice, maybe didn't care, and the people around her backed away, fleeing through the great doors of the hall. The more powerful ones, who were, coincidentally, the ones that loved her most, quickly emptied the hall of spectators while shielding them and what they could of the building from her hysterical wrath.

The pure, unadulterated power and magic continued to seep from her, hot, dry, and stiflingly overwhelming, eating at the stones like magical acid, leaving scorches and burns wherever it touched. The rough, sturdy wooden tables crumbled to dust, and the energy pushed with all it's might at the magical shields.

The barriers were held up by the four most powerful individuals currently residing at the manor, one of them her own kin, and they still wavered and very nearly fell beneath the assault. It was unheard of. The world hadn't seen such immense, consuming power since the days of sorcerers, centuries ago, and if it had, normal, everyday witches and wizards were not equipped to deal with such magic, and it killed them.

The girl --for she was only a girl, just past her sixteenth year-- was still oblivious to the chaos she created, sobbing with unconceivable pain, and let out a scream more filled with heartache and despair than the average imagination could even consider. Her eyes fell shut and she fell to the ground, her magic whipping back towards her, cushioning what would have been a fatal contact between her skull and the relentless stone flooring. Pulsing, it lowered her to the floor before seeping back into her skin, so sedate that even those who had witnessed its previous fury had to convince themselves it had really happened.

The shields were down the instant she began to fall, and her dearest surrounded her, desperation etched onto their faces. "Please be alright," they whispered, "Please do not be harmed."

Hours later, Faye Gracieux still slept, safely encased in the soft and comforting coverings of her own bed. Her brother lay next to her on the bed, cradling her in his arms and pleading softly for her to return to them. Her friends sat demurely in plush armchairs, three in number. Softly, they discussed in shocked, concerned whispers the earlier events. How could Faye, their Faye, accomplish such a thing? The girl they had known all their lives, lived with, laughed with, possess such power? They knew she was exceptional, they all were, but not to this extent! Was it really possible? Could she have the strength of Merlin, be the next Morgana, even…the new Queen Mab?

And that letter! What could have possibly been written to send their beloved, their very best friend, into such a depth of despair? The more they thought of this, the more fretful they became, for Aiden was still away on business. What if the letter brought news of him; horrible, grief-ridden news?

But they did not know, could not know until Faye awoke, Faye who was so spent by the unleashing of power that perhaps she would not come away undamaged, perhaps she could not come away at all, and then how would they cope? She was Faye, a cherished sister to not only her brother by blood, but them all. They could not live without her, could not remember a time when they had.

Because all six of them --Faye and Raven, the only girls, and Rory (Faye's brother), Aiden, and the twins, Elias and Piper -- had been together nearly from birth. All but Faye had been born within six months of each other, and Faye was born the year after. The rest were terribly protective of their youngest companion.

The six hated to be apart, and missed Aiden terribly when he left to accomplish his noble duties. They would all eventually have similar jobs to carry out, but Aiden was the oldest, so this was the first time any had accompanied their aristocrat parents on business, and it was tearing them all apart. Especially Faye. As the oldest and the youngest, she and Aiden were very, very close. And Faye had lived her entire life with him there, to catch her when she fell and comfort her when she felt alone.

And now, for this to happen, when, of all times, he was away, maybe because he was away. She loved the others dearly, and was extremely close to them as well, but they weren't Aiden. They knew it and accepted it, because he was the eldest, their leader. Not their glue; they loved each other just as much when he was away, but he was the comforter, the counselor, and they all wished he was here now, if only just to prove the gruesome letter was not a report of his fate.

Tears dripped from Raven's eyes as she said so, something that did not happen often. They had all learned at an early age that the nobleman's court was a cruel, petty place, and to show emotional distress or outrage was to show yourself as weak and out of control. Power was obtained and held by sharp, silver tongues and impeccable images. Only among the most trusted of company could the nobility and their children show any emotions other than contempt and dominance, and such times were still to be made a rare occurrence.

For the six were children of nobility, raised to be superior, intelligent, beautiful, and powerful; in control, excellent leaders, highly-ranked mages, and, in short, perfect. Their fathers were kings and their mothers were queens; together, the eight adults made up the oligarchy that governed their isle home, Densorcelle, an entirely magical, invisible to muggles, unplottable, undetectable, decent sized place in the Bay of Biscay, near to France. The center of the lands their parents ruled over was the location of the manor, Maison de Coeurs, (which was really more of a castle) that their families lived in. The six were some of the most influential mages in the realm, and all still in their teens.

But even they had never seen such power as Faye had exposed. Their thoughts ran in circles, from Faye to Aiden and back. They needed to get word to Aiden, they agreed. But how? They knew not where he was, and though they could probably find him through magic and the bond they all shared, none wanted to leave to alert him and they felt that the 'incident' should be kept as quiet as possible, so a messenger was out of the question. They could keep the inhabitants of Maison de Coeurs hushed, but beyond the walls, there were ways of making people talk.

Unless there was a spell…? One that wouldn't meddle with free will, for they were opposed to using such things in situations less than life-threatening, but would still enable the message to get to Aiden, and only Aiden.

As one, Elias and Piper left Faye's room, somewhat reluctantly, for the library and it's immense collection of spell books. It would have been easier had Faye been capable; she had read almost every one.

Raven heaved a heavy sigh, mixed with a dry sob, and moved onto the bed, full skirts and all, so that she and Rory lay on either side of Faye. She needed assurance, to hear her best friend's breathing, to know that she wasn't lost in dreams forever, that she would wake up. But she didn't. Faye's breathing was steady, but that didn't mean it would stay that way. And even if she wasn't dead, who was to say she wouldn't lay comatose for years upon years?

Faye lay on her side, Rory facing her in front, Raven's chest to her back. Raven buried her head in the younger girl's shoulder. "Please wake up," she whispered desperately. "I need you here."

"She will." Rory's voice was scratchy with held-back tears and emotions. "She has to. Where are Elias and Piper?"

As she was about to answer, Piper mind-spoke to her, informing her of a suitable (if somewhat unorthodox) spell and a fix on Aiden's location. Not for the first time, she bemoaned the fact that they couldn't send thoughts to the others over greater distances; for instance, from here to wherever Aiden was.

"They just found a spell, so we can send Aiden a message. And they found him. He's in Trèblanche. They're sending the letter now. "

Trèblanche was not to far from the Maison, only about thirty kilometers. Aiden and their parents must have been on their way home. Rory sighed, in relief but also in sadness, feeling thankful but still pleading for his sister's safe return.

Aiden had never been lonely in his life. He had always had his friends, from the nursery, to private tutoring sessions at the Maison, to the year the six had spent in a mage's college, four years before normal mages even thought of the entrance exam. Actually, for Faye, it was five years before.

Now, surrounded by fearful servants, jealous lords, and conniving businessmen, he felt utterly alone. Every word spoken to him was riddled with terror, spite, or fabrication. Then there were the older men that thought him nothing more than a spoiled, uneducated child, never mind that the seventeen year old had already accomplished more than they ever would.

He wanted his friends. He wanted Piper and Elias to whisper to him hilarious insults that would make him snigger before he remembered that he must be dignified. He wanted Rory to discreetly place 'harmless', yet completely infuriating, spells on the most annoying of the fat old aristocrats. He wanted Raven to roll her eyes and point out everything that they said or did wrong, her voice filled with contempt and wonder at how such people had ever come to power. He wanted Faye, wanted to listen to her as she spoke to the noblemen, ugly and aged, spouting pretty words that left the people feeling insulted but unable to figure out why.

In hindsight, he was glad the girls were not there. They were both rather stunning, and fairly often, cheesy old codgers would attempt to romance them, seeking both the beauty in their faces and the power in their names. The boys were all very protective of them, and when there were visitors to Maison de Coeurs, neither went anywhere without the company of one of the four young men, and they slept with extra wards on their doors. Sometimes, all six slept in the same room, especially when the more…persistent nobility visited. Young and old, many were hell-bent on trying something.

The girls got annoyed with them sometimes, and could take care of themselves, but the boys were determined that they would never need to.

Aiden stretched languidly, drawing the eyes of more than one of the females in attendance. How he wished for something interesting to happen…

With a squelching sound a silvery figure appeared in the middle of the unimpressive hall he currently sat in. All heads turned to the still-forming shape, but its focus was solely on Aiden. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and the guards around him (as if he needed them) tensed.

The figure, once fully formed and corporeal, was that of a woman…Raven? It couldn't be, he thought, waving the guards away. It was in her form, but silver in color, and shining with pearlescent light.

"Aiden du Chagne," it said, its voice similar to Raven's but more artificial. "I bear a message from Elias and Piper Marquer, of the utmost urgency, for your eyes only." She handed him a tightly rolled and bound scroll, before disappearing with another unsettling sound.

Turning away from any prying eyes with growing anxiety, he unfurled the letter. Urgency? What could be so terribly wrong that they would look up an unfamiliar spell? If it had been from Faye, it wouldn't have seemed so odd. She knew most all the books anyway. But Elias and Piper?

Scanning the message, his eyes widened and he was filled with a sense of duress. Turning to the kings and queens Marquer, Noir (Raven's parents), and his own mother and father, the only residents of Maison de Coeurs in attendance, and said, "Something has happened. I regret that I must depart immediately. Alert their majesties Gracieux that they should return home as soon as they find it possible. Anything they may cut short, they should."

The adults before him did not argue, only nodded, knowing that Aiden was a responsible, intelligent man and that he would not leave unless the cause was dire, which the look in his eyes served testimony to.

The wind whipped into the warm stone foyer of Maison, making the torches flicker and the maids shiver. Aiden rushed inside, having ridden for hours, alone, racing to reach his home. Again he raced, through the long, twisting halls of his home ever closer to the ebbing flicker of powerful magic, Faye's magic.

When he crashed into her room, eight startled eyes looked up at him. Raven jumped up and clung to him, crying in relief.

"You're okay," she sobbed. "We were so worried. Faye..."

She let go and moved away, and Aiden could see the youngest and most powerful of the six, her face astonishingly white against the rich purple coloring of the bedclothes. The freckles she so hated, but that Aiden cherished, stood out, so unlike their usual look of cinnamon sprinkled over fresh cream. Her long, curly auburn locks were tangled with the nightmare that she was currently living in.

Rory stood from Faye's immense mattress, where he had been laying with his little sister. He nodded to Aiden in a gesture that showed that Aiden had all his trust as a big brother, and that Aiden was fit to care for his beloved sister.

"Faye…" Aiden breathed, sadness drenching the sapphire pools of his eyes. He slipped onto the mattress and wrapped his arms around her, reaching for her mind with his own.

Faye was drowning. She was submersed in some realm of inky blackness, and it was pulling her down, and she was struggling and writhing but she couldn't get away and she couldn't breathe… And then it stopped. She gasped for air, and though the atmosphere wherever she had ended up was dry and stale, it was worlds better that the darkness that she hadn't been breathing before. She managed to wrench her eyes open, for she had closed them tightly against the watery gloom, but promptly shut them again. Crap. She thought. I guess it wasn't a dream.

Resigned to the reality she was faced with, she sighed tiredly and reopened her eyes. "What do you want, Vampyre?"

As loathe as she was to admit it, the creature was beautiful. He looked young—He was likely about nineteen when he was changed. The vampire's body was well built, but lean and lithe, despite the fact that he could likely bench press a house. His face…was deceptively angelic. His features were graceful and archaic; he looked as though he had stepped from the pages of a Roman legend. His hair was long, sleek and shiny, and of the deepest blue-black hue. Soft, slightly reddened lips were quirked under a perfectly straight nose. Faye knew better then to look directly into his eyes, but she had seen that they were of a dark, sapphire blue. At least they weren't red. He probably wouldn't eat her just yet, then.

The Vampyre was laughing. "No, pet, I shant eat you yet. Or at all, considering that we are in your mind at the moment."

Faye barely stopped herself from groaning. I hate when they do that! She thought angrily. Being locked up in her own head was one of the most aggravating experiences she had ever undergone—plus it totally freaked out everyone on the outside. At least he couldn't bite her here.

"And why, praytell, are we in my mind?" She snapped at him.

He was smirking an annoying little smirk. Maybe he couldn't bite her, but seeing as all her mental shields were on the outside, and he was on the inside… he knew everything she was thinking.

"I wanted to speak with you, pet." He told her, slightly mocking.

"Any reason you couldn't do that outside of my head?" Faye's eyes flashed.

"Would you really have let a lowly Vampyre into the capital of Densorcelle, which is currently unguarded by it's revered monarchs, without the permission of said monarchs? And my name is Delwyn, not 'the Vampyre'."

Faye stared for a moment before bursting into peals of hysterical laughter. "Delwyn? Delwyn? 'Pretty and white'?"

The Vampyre—Delwyn—scowled at her. " I did not choose my name, nor it's meaning. The point is, the only way for me to gain an audience with you was to meet you in your mind, so-"

"You sent me that scroll?! The scroll that showed me all of my family dead and bleeding on the ground? The piece of flipping parchment that caused me to fully destroy a decent chunk of my home?"

"Yes…Well…I had to get you to retreat into your mind somehow…And…Well…I didn't expect you to demolish anything…"

Despite the fact that Delwyn was a fairly old and incredibly powerful vampire, and that she couldn't really hurt him in her mind, he began to back away rather nervously.

"Vampyre, you had best state your business, and hope that it is bloody well important…Or you may find yourself very uncomfortably speared on the end of a newly sharpened stake." Her bluntness proved how incredibly serious she was—usually she kept her threats carefully veiled.

Quickly, Delwyn turned to business. "It is 'bloody well important'. It is the future of not only your family and your country, but also of the entire existence of magic, in every shape and form. Mages, witches, wizards, vampyres, werewolves, giants, even magical creatures are depending on your actions as of this moment.

"There is a man, a wizard by the name of Voldemort. He aims to control all magic, beginning in England and wiping out all muggles and muggle-borns there. I know that your country is well hidden, but he knows it is here and expects your people to join with him. Though you and I both agree with the blood purism his methods will put an end to us all. Joining him would be destructive."

"Am I to stop him, then?" Faye looked to the vampyre.

"Yes, but not alone. Take your friends, and go to England. You must find this girl," he sent a picture to her mind, "and this boy." He sent another. " The girl's power is equal to yours, and the boy's is as well, though the fools around them have not recognized them as the mages they are. The girl has the Sight, as well, though it, too, is hidden. They are smart, and trustworthy. you, with la flamme, le glaçon, le fort, les devinettes, et le merle will save all of magic…dom." He faltered.

" 'Magic-dom'?" Faye quirked an eyebrow. Though she was present enough to mock Delwyn, Faye was heavily distracted by the images in her mind. The boy was incredibly handsome. He was tall, at least 6'2", with a light but clearly defined musculature. He was pale and aristocratic, ice-blond with stony silver eyes. He looked haughty and superior and utterly delectable.

But the girl…The girl was the most gorgeous creature Faye had ever seen. She had long red hair, darker, more of a bloody color than Faye's, which waved throughout before softly curling into the ends, which reached her hips. She had curves that were gentle, but substantial, and an itsy-bitsy waist. She was long and lean, with legs that went on forever. She had cheekbones that were absolutely royal, a dusting of nearly-faded freckles, and amazing purple-blue indigo eyes.

"Yes, they are rather pretty, aren't they, pet? Though you're just as lovely as Ginevra there."

Delwyn looked amused, obviously having noticed that she was trying not to drool.

"Ginevra?" Faye asked, wanting to change the subject.

He nodded. "Yes, that's her name. The boy is Draco, and they go to a magic school in Scotland. That's really all I can tell you, because really, that's all I know."

She nodded. "Can I wake up now?"

The vampyre nodded, and Faye was drowning again.

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