SQUWEEE!

She woke with a yelp as she was slammed into the far wall, colliding with Shi and tangling limbs. He shoved her off him with a snarl and rose, guns already in his hands. "This train supposed to stop?" he asked the students, who were fallen in a pile near the door.

They shook their heads, and Chandre froze as the screams began to start, near the back of the train. Shi cursed and bolted out the door. Chandre leapt up and ran after him, her gun in her hand. As she reached the door, she snapped, "Stay there!" and sprinted down the narrow aisle, telling the other frightened students to stay there. As she ran she popped the pick-me-up pill into her mouth, seeing Shi do the same, and a bolt of energy jittered down her spine.

She quickly passed Shi and stole his sword as she ran towards the back of the train, pausing at the last door, where she could feel the dark magic even with her shields up.

Shi paused beside her, and murmured, "Guns work here?"

"They stop fifty meters behind the train," she replied, just as softly. A whimper rose from the cabin before them, and something smelt like rotting eggs. He watched her expectantly, and she said, after lowering her shields, "Death Eaters. Three inside, two on each side, eight to the back. With something else. It's wholly magical. Cold magic."

He nodded, and fitted a silencer to one gun, then leaned out of the cabin doors, shooting the four on the sides of the train, while she burst into the cabin, firing her gun at the first hooded Death Eater she saw. Luckily her bullets were the kind that didn't pass through bodies, no matter how close, so she wasn't in danger of hitting anyone. The man's face disappeared in a burst of red, and she was aiming at the other two, downing one instantly.

The last one had grabbed a youngish girl, and she was sobbing wildly. The Death Eater pointed his wand at the girl's head, and growled, "Shoot me and she dies. Drop the gun and sword."

Chandre snarled, and bent down slowly, placing her weapons on the ground, watching him. As soon as she was standing up, he raised his wand and shot at her, and she ducked, dodging the spell narrowly and grabbing Shi's sword.

Leaping up, she jumped at him, too fast for him to react, and her sword slammed into his throat, just above the girl's head. The sword slammed deep into the woodwork and blood splattered against her cheek and poured on top of the girl's hair like crimson syrup.

Grabbing the kid, Chandre jerked back, taking her sword with her. Shi jumped into the cabin, putting the silencer into his pocket, and bent to pick up her gun, tossing it to her. She caught it without looking, and let go of the girl, pushing away.

"Through the side doors," Shi said, and they backtracked. "You take the magical thing. I've got the Death Eaters," he added as they reached the side doors.

She nodded, and they jumped down of the train, falling to opposite sides. Landing silently in an elastic crouch on the rough gravel, she tread softly to the end of the train, where the Death Eaters were waiting, ready to face the disturbance they had felt in the train, or just waiting for the job to get done with.

Gunshots erupted on the other side, and she felt spells being cast. Sprinting down the length of the train, she slowed and saw the scene. Shi had already reached the Death Eaters, and two lay on the ground, one headless with just a pool of blood about him, the other sprawled in an ungainly angle. Five others raised their wands to him, and she raised her gun, firing in rapid succession at them as something cold oozed up behind her.

Turning at the last moment, she raised her gun, and froze. The creature swept its hand up, hitting her. She was sent flying, dropping her gun in surprise but keeping a hold on the sword. Hitting the ground with a thud, she scrambled to her feet as the black robed and hooded creature came at her, leeching the very color from her surroundings.

Slamming up her mental walls to keep the thing from her thoughts, she attacked it, growing slower at every step as it drained something away from her. Snarling, she came forwards, and it swept her into its arms, lowering its face to hers in an awful mimicry of a kiss.

Yelling in surprise, she brought her sword up, and couldn't, it was too long. Dropping the sword, she put one hand to its face, trying to keep it from touching her, while her other hand quested along her boot, looking, looking--aha!--she pulled out the dagger and plunged it into the creature's back. It loosened its grasp on her, distracted, and she twisted, falling to the ground and on top of the sword. Rolling, she grabbed it and shoved it into the creature's chest as it came for her again. The watery runes on Shi's sword flared brightly before there was a burst of darkness and poof, and the creature was gone in a fluttering of ashes.

Gasping, she staggered to her feet, hand twitching in pain, blood seeping through the bandage. There was a shot, and she looked up as Shi tackled the last Death Eater. They rolled about for a while as she ran up to them, but Shi had it covered, ending up sitting on the Death Eater's chest, gun pointed at its head.

She reached them and picked up the man's wand, watching while Shi questioned him after ripping off his hood, revealing a very pale, very scared, very ordinary brown-haired man.

"Why did you attack the train?" Shi asked. The man hissed, growing a spine, but her partner just slammed the butt of his gun into his face, almost casually. "Why did you attack the train?" he asked again, handing her the gun and doing something with his free hand to the man's neck. The Death Eater screamed, and she winced. She hated torture, even necessary torture to bad men like this. The reek of his mind unsettled her, and she normally didn't pick up the thoughts of people with her shields up high.

"L-lord V-voldem-mort t-t-told us t-to," he stammered. "F-for th-the boy."

"What boy?" Shi snarled, and touched a spot on the man's neck.

The Death Eater paled, but didn't scream. Shi was only suggesting the damage he could do. "H-Harry P-P-Pott-ter. Please d-d-don't le-let him k-k-kill m-me, n-nice girl," he said, imploring her with wide brown eyes.

She spat and kicked him. "Don't look at me, dirtbag. I know what you've done," she said, disgust and horror on her voice.

"P-p-please!" the man begged, tears welling in his eyes. Chandre wasn't convinced.

"I'm not going to kill you," Shi said calmly, stroking back the man's hair, pretending to be gentle. The man screamed, terrified. Chandre heard footsteps behind her, but didn't turn. They were friendlies. The porter and the two lunchladies.

"Chandre," Shi murmured, drawing her attention to him. "Can you put a message in his mind?"

She shuddered, and recoiled back. "In that?" she asked, and her partner looked up at her.

"Chandre, you're the only one who can make sure that he delivers it," Shi said, looking back at the man, hate on his face.

She nodded, and knelt beside the man, placing her hands gently on either side of his forehead. She may not be a strong telepath, but she was strong enough for this. With a deep breath she released her shields and her hold on her body, descending into the man's head and his memories. What she saw made her want to scream and beat her head against a wall.

She had met bad men, but this had to be near the top. He had raped children, women, and men, put the worst spells on all of them, and killed babies before its parents' eyes, all the while laughing merrily. What was worse was that he was an upstanding member of the community, with no one, not even his wife, suspecting what he was.

Carefully Chandre began to mold a message into the man's brain, taking all of his happy memories and locking them carefully away, then twisting the views of his memories so that he was the victim, being tortured, being raped. Finally, she implanted her message firmly onto his lips, with the compelling command to force him to seek Voldemort until he found the man or died. He wouldn't stop for food or water or bathroom, and she was jerked away at the very end as someone grabbed her body roughly, shaking her back inside.

Opening her eyes, she found she was crying, and looked up to see Shi kneeling before her, shaking her roughly by the shoulders. He snapped her name, but she watched as the man got to his feet and rose, shambling off in the direction of the woods, dumbly muttering, "The two assassins live. Try to come to the children and die. The two assassins live. Try to come to the children and die." The porter tried to grab him, but she shook her head, and Shi snapped at them to let the man go. He stumbled back off, screaming every once in a while through his repeated mumbling. Slowly he was out of sight as the forest swallowed him up.

". . . Chandre, kiddo." She snapped back into focus as Shi shook her again, and pushed away from him.

"I'm okay," she whispered, horrified to find that she was shaking.

"Dear gods, miss, what did you do to him?" the porter asked, scratching his grizzled head and staring in the direction the Death Eater had gone.

"I-I gave him his just reward," Chandre replied, looking at him. She looked around, seeing the carnage and the pale faces looking from the windows of the train, filled with expressions of horror, fear and terror. "Shouldn't we get going? Voldemort might send another batch to come finish us off."

The porter and the lunch ladies nodded, and the porter asked, "What about the bodies on the train?"

"We'll deal with them," Shi said. "You start the train up. Ivy, Rose?" The two lunchladies looked at him, their round faces pale. "Calm the students. Don't freak out. You're the adults, remember? And get the prefects, those who aren't completely frozen and shocky, to help you with the youngest."

They all set off for their jobs, Chandre and Shi quickly dragging the bodies to the ditches and leaving them there for the carrions to fight over, after taking the wands and putting them in their pocket for Dumbledore. The engine was rumbling and they had to run to jump onto the back platform of the train, weapons bundled in their arms. Bursting through the door, she shoved her partner to the ground as spells sizzled above their heads. He rolled to his feet, and she snapped, "Wands down! The danger's past."

Shi had already reached the first body, and they picked it up together and carried it out to the back, swinging it off the train. It landed with a sickening thud and began to roll down the hill into the nearby forest, and the other two bodies followed shortly. They collected the wands again, but nothing was to be done about the bloodstains on the wooden panels and floor, at least, not right then.

Finishing with the last body, Chandre walked to the platform, feeling the blood drying on her face and hands. Shi followed her, and they stood outside, trying to clean off their faces with clean handkerchiefs. Giving up, Chandre mopped up Shi's face while he did hers, and they let the stained handkerchiefs float into the wind behind them, then headed inside, chilled yet jittery from the pick-me-ups.

On the way, Shi touched her arm lightly, comforting. It was his way of apologizing for making her go into the Death Eater's mind. He knew full well that she absolutely hated doing it; normally, she refused, and only for him had she done it.

The walk back to their compartment was silent, filled with long looks from the students, who stared at their blood covered clothes and Shi's sword and their guns, neatly tucked back into now-openly displayed holsters, with a little nervousness and some awe.

Only Harry was in the compartment, pacing back and forth with irritation and some anger. He looked up when they entered, his face slightly hopeful, and then it went back to its storm cloud expression.

"Where're the other two?" Shi asked as Chandre settled down into her corner, putting Shi's sword next to her own. She wasn't surprised at how pleasant and mellow his voice was, even this soon after a fight. Shi had excellent control over himself and his emotions, although mostly it was to keep his huge amounts of rage in check. He was a berserker, when someone pissed him off enough he didn't stop until everyone in the room with him was dead or dying or until he was thoroughly restrained, which was very, very hard. Fortunately, he hardly ever berserked, his control was so good; she had only seen him do it once, and he had nearly killed her. Not that there weren't times that she had almost killed him.

"They're prefects," Harry replied bitterly. "So they're with the first and second years, trying to calm them down, I think." He looked up at them. "Where were you?" He slowly began to take in the blood on their clothes, the way their eyes glinted with a strange fervor, the smear of red just under Shi's jaw, where Chandre had missed. His eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Death Eaters attacked the train," Shi replied, sitting down in his spot.

Chandre shifted in her seat, feet tapping with nerves. Pick-me-ups weren't meant for non-combat, and she hated the feeling when they hadn't run off yet, and her adrenaline was peaking. She glanced at Shi, who was staring down at his hands. They were trembling with suppressed energy.

"How many?" Harry asked.

"Not enough," Chandre answered, staring out the window. The door opened, and she jumped up, gun in her hand. Her arm was shaking slightly, but it wouldn't put off her aim, and Shi was beside her in the same position, his hand rock steady but his breath rasping in his throat. Hermione and Ron gasped, and she quickly lowered her gun, trying to breath slowly and not start to hyperventilate. Her partner slowly sank his head between his knees, his shoulders trembling lightly as he breathed.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, doubtfully. "You guys seem a little . . . tense." She stepped towards them.

Shi waved his hand, waving her off. "We're fine," he said without lifting his head. "It's just the pills. They're not meant for just sitting. Ignore us."

"How can we? You just took out a whole bunch of Death Eaters. With guns!" Ron exclaimed. "And a sword. Penelope said you rammed a sword into a Death Eater's neck when he was holding her and you didn't touch her. How'd you do that?"

Chandre closed her eyes and tried to construct her shields a little higher, but didn't have the right type of energy. Her breath started picking up as she caught their excitement and fear and alarm and roiling hormones, rolling her around and around her mind.

Shi touched her hand, lightly, and she jerked back, gasping. He recoiled in surprise. "Kiddo?" he asked gently, leaning forwards again. The other three were watching her with alarm, and she breathed faster, shaking her head, trying to clear it. "Chandre, what's wrong?" He took her hands.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled between her shoulder blades. "Calm down, calm down," she mumbled.

Shi caught her meaning, and turned towards the students. "Settle your thoughts, will you?" Suddenly he looked down, and cursed, all the while staying calm. He always had a calm mind, but then, he also had a natural wall that no telepath could penetrate without killing him. "Fuck. Your hand's bleeding again."

She looked down at the blood-covered bandages. Some of it wasn't hers, but a lot was. He released her hand and reached down into his pack, coming up with some linen bandages and ointment Madam Pomfrey had given them.

"Ah, you might want to look away," Shi told the students, and shoved the ointment jar into Chandre's good hand. Flicking a dagger into one hand, he slowly began to tear open the bloody bandages, Chandre watching, paying rapt attention. It was a way to calm down. Gently he peeled away the soaked cloth, and hissed. She winced, distancing herself immediately from the hand. It wasn't hers, it wasn't hers, oh gods it wasn't hers. She looked down again, seeing the hand. Looking at the back of her hand, it was just a couple burns and some welts, with blisters running up her forearm all the way up her elbow, oozing and popping when she bumped into things. Nothing special, just a little nasty. But the palm . . . she forced herself to watch, biting her lip from the pain, as Shi dabbed at the blood pouring from the cracks in the blackened flesh. Scorch marks radiated from the center of her palm to her fingertips, and Shi dutifully rubbed some ointment over everything, then wrapped up the bandages, leaving her hand free enough to do most things, even if it was painful.

"It's not healing," Chandre murmured as he finished wrapping it. She didn't understand. Six days, and it wasn't healing. Even something as bad as that should have closed up by now, even for a normal person. But she wasn't entirely normal. Her body healed much faster than average humans, thanks to genetic engineering generations past. This should be nothing more than a faint scar. And it wasn't healing.

"Poppy said something like that might happen," Shi said, putting the stuff back into his bag. "All we can do is keep it clean and let it heal." She nodded. Her resistance to magik of all sorts also prevented most healings, something that the nurse at Hogwarts had found out the hard way. When Chandre and Shi had been dragged in after their encounter with Voldemort, Pomfrey had tried to heal Chandre with a potion. The effect was almost instantaneous. Chandre had almost died, and had gone into a semi-catatonic state for a day before coming back out again.

"What happened?" Ron asked, staring at her now bandaged hand. Self-consciously she pulled the sleeve of her jacket back down, covering it.

"I burned it," she replied.

"No shit," Harry said, he covered his mouth in alarm at his slip, then went on. "That thing is toasted. How'd it happen?"

"It's a perk of our job. Don't ask," Chandre said, and Shi snorted in suppressed laughter.

Ron felt compelled to try, however. "You're not professors . . . are you?"

"Now we are," Shi said. He grinned slightly. "I'd consider this a vacation. How 'bout you?" Chandre grinned back, under a thin layer of control. Everything had stopped shaking except for her hands, which she stuffed into her pockets, safely out of sight.

The students stared at them, and then turned away when neither offered up any more information on what they did. They really didn't want to know, Chandre thought, turning back to the window to watch the mountains come closer and closer as the sun fell behind them, sending their world into darkness. The life of an assassin was not for the faint of heart.