Privet Drive had changed some, in the last seven years since Bellatrix Black moved in Number Four. Well, the street was still large and well-kept, sided by middle-sized square houses, lush manicured lawns and expensive cars, and except for a new layer of paint on some doors, it was almost the same as the first night she arrived there. But, after glancing deeper than the façade, one could easily spot the changes.
The children, for example. While it had been in Lily's predictions, even she had been surprised when a whole 27 women had got pregnant in her little party. Both Lily and she had to go the extra mile with memory and confusion charms to dispel suspicion. Nonetheless, the neighbourhood became very famous, and even BBC had run a small piece about the "baby boom of Saint Agnes". Even so many years afterwards, couples from all over the country would come to the tiny chapel at the end of the street and light a scented candle before the image of Saint Agnes, wishing for a small miracle to happen in the hopeful woman's womb. And, more often than not, their prayers were answered.
With the surge of small children, the women had bonded closer. The needs of pregnancy had quickly flattened the fences and walls, both in the street and their minds. Husbands would gather a lot for barbecues, hotpots or just to crack a beer and watch some game, while the wives would come and go from each other houses exchanging dishes, recipes, gossip and some very discreet intimacy. Bella mainly liked to fuck Polkiss, because the woman was a complete whore.
The plan was for them to be there just for a year or so, before moving to someplace out the country, where Lily would be able to implement her plans away from prying eyes. However, Privet Drive had been so good to them that they decided to stay longer. Lily also wanted Harry to have hands-on knowledge about the muggle world, something Bella herself had turned her nose on before.
And, to the list of things that at first were to be temporary but quickly turned permanent, she kept the punk look, and in fact revelled in it. When she was a teenager, the Black family had been very strict with her, curbing most of her wishes and ideas. It was hard to compete with Cissy, the perfect Black Princess, but things turned for worse when Andy defected and ran away with that boy. Bella was forced to marry that oaf Lestrange, a man she despised for his tiny brain and even tinier equipment. She had played a game at first, the Quiet Proper Wife that Tortured Her Husband in Private, but it had become boring very soon. It had been a very happy day when Lily procured the parchmentwork with the goblins so Bella would return to be a Black. The fact that Lestrange had died in Azkaban had nothing to do with it, of course.
Bella hadn't been the only widow, nonetheless. Vernon Dursley had a very unfortunate heart attack not long after the Baby Shower, something that cemented the young, suffering sisters in the hearts of their little community. The man had left them some money, and Lily quickly invented some cock and bull story about working from home to a small company dealing with compooters, whatever they were. People easily gobbled that up, probably because they had no idea what that meant too.
She put the laundry in the washing machine and tapped the wooden construct with her wand. Being home was nice (having Lily on top of her the night before had been nicer), but with two kids there was no end to the housework. She trudged up the basement stairs, feeling the sting in her abused bottom. The riding crop had been exquisite, but it sure had been hard to sit or to move up and down the stairs. Maybe she would ask Lily for some murtilap essence and some rubbing. Or she could make Harry rub it for her, he was so cute when teased.
Her mood nosedived when she remembered Lily would be gone again the next day. She had found a good lead in Bulgaria and had to pack in a hurry before the information was picked up by some other. Bella had just come back from her own mission. These days, the work had been piling up, and they would be all together for less than a week before one of the two had to leave. They had promised each other never to let the missions overlap, so one of them always was at home for the kids, but with the number of leads, side missions and quests, it had been difficult. Bella thought it should be hard for the children, but they were strong and very independent, so it hardly showed. However, it was just façade — she was a mother, she could sense their loneliness.
She would convince Lily to have a break after the Goddess returned from Bulgaria. Maybe they could travel to somewhere cold, as the kids were home for summer break. Yes, maybe the mountains, Cassiopeia was too young to remember visiting them before. Thinking about her daughter, she went upstairs and knocked on the smallest bedroom door. The five-year-old could be such a lazy-bones in the summer. Bella smiled, thinking about all the times her cute baby had complained about the heat. She was a winter girl, just like her mother. Hum, the room was empty, the bed was properly made and there were no toys on the floor. Maybe those child-raising books were producing some results. Not as if she would say that aloud, Lily would be insufferable for weeks as she had been the one to praise them before.
Harry's room was also tidied up, but the raven-haired boy was nowhere in sight. They probably had gone playing with their little friends. She picked his stuffed owl from the floor and put it back on his bed, opened the windows and spied the street. Cassiopeia was with him, there was no doubt of it, and he could take care of both of them. Lily's power and kindness were showing more and more in him. He was eight already, and still unholy cute. Lily had been very careful for him not to grow up conceited and stupid like his father, but there was nothing to worry about. The boy was kind to a fault and had a strong self-assurance around him that would make the girls throw themselves at him as soon he hit puberty. The way Lily was possessive, that would be very interesting to see.
She closed the door and went to their own room. Lily was very confident in her taste for muggle clothes, but she sure was a disaster around robes. She probably packed a bunch of plain black ones and so be it. Bella wouldn't let her Goddess look like a Hogwarts first year in Bulgaria. Even at almost thirty, she looked more like twenty-two, she would look great in some of those new robes Lilith had been advertising the last issue. Bella herself looked barely in her twenties, their powerful magic and a good amount of potions keeping their looks even after pregnancy and the passage of years. Lily could easily model for the next cover of Lilith if she deemed wizarding fashion worth a single thought.
The room was perfectly ordered, but something was wrong. She strode towards the closet, and thoughtlessly moved the dresses and robes away, finding the hidden door in the back. She opened it and hissed loudly. One of Lily's Ward Breaching Stones was tucked in the corner, a round river stone with a perfectly circular hole carved in the middle. Both Lily and Bella had used those stones countless times, pushing it against a ward without breaking it, then using the hole to shove a wandpoint inside the ward. The hole was big enough just to provide some wiggle room to the wand so one could cast elaborate spells without disturbing the ward… or for a couple of tiny thievery fingers to be pushed through. She snarled, yanking the stone from the corner and pushing her hand inside the jewellery safe, feeling the ward trip as it should.
In the middle, Helga Hufflepuff's cup was proudly displayed, encased in glass. It was full to the brim with tiny blue diamonds, each one of them worth more than the entire Privet Drive. There were Black enchanted jewellery and inestimable heirlooms, pearls and jewels of every size, colour and age. On the bottom, right in front of where the stone had been, one of the small drawers was slightly open. She drew it further. There was a bunch of silver rings in there, she rummaged around the drawer, before closing it with a loud thud.
She was going to kill the little buggers.
"Mom is going to murder me," Cassie proclaimed, her small hands pressing against her face and hiding it. "I'm so dead."
Harry rolled his eyes at his sister's drama and put his face closer to the grate, trying to see something in the darkness. The children called it the rainhole and, at first, it had been only a passage in the curb for the water to drain down. Later, it was expanded to improve its drainage and had become a real deep hole in the side of the Main Street, covered with a metal grate. It was filthy, smelly, and completely dark inside.
"She's not going to simple murder me, oh no," Cassie went on, the other children shivering at her defeated tone. "First she is going to torture me, for hours and hours, and then she will gut me. You know what gutting means?"
Peter Polkiss moved his little head side from side, his eyes wide and fearful. Cassie looked right in his eye, grey on grey. It was the most evident proof they were half-siblings, like almost three dozens other children. Really, Peter's dad was stupid to believe he was his son.
"It means she will cut my belly open with a knife," Cassie helpfully explained to the children around her. "Then she will take my intestine and put one end of it on a pole, before throwing me from the roof or something like, and I will dangle for hours, while my intestine unrolls, and then… I die."
For someone a half step away from death, she seemed really enthusiastic about it. She even had removed her hands from her face, just to describe in gruesome detail her death. Harry threaded his fingers on the grate rails and pulled up, the metal groaning a little.
"Do you know how long is an intestine?" Cassie went on, targeting Melody Hunter this time, the older girl was already very green in the grills. Funny expression, that. "Mrs Webber said its over 12 feet long! Imagine the time it will take before it unrolls? Mom will need to push me from the top of a building!"
"Cassie, help me out!" Harry called, interrupting his sister. She scrunched her nose when she saw him touching the slimy grate.
"I won't touch that," she answered in her most posh voice, the one she had started to learn so she could act like a proper lady. "It's icky."
"You'd rather be gutted by Mom Bella?"
The five-year-old sighed while she pondered her fate. Icky or dead? Well, it wasn't a hard choice. She grasped the grate and pulled it up effortlessly, the metal creaking loud when she burst the solder joints just with her bare strength. While small, Cassie was super strong. Mom Bella said she took it from her father. It was another clue to Peter's true father: while none of the other children had Cassie's crazy strength, they were strong and incredible healthy even for muggle children. Peter would be a football star someday and Harry had a feeling he would not be the only athlete Privet Drive would gift the world.
Cassie tossed the grate to the side before cleaning her hands on her hanky. Harry wished he had one too, his hands felt greased only from touching the metal. He manoeuvred so he was crawling backwards to the whole, grabbing on the scorching asphalt. He had a feeling the hole wouldn't be hot (or even warm) inside.
"What are you doing?" Cassie asked, surprise on her pretty face. She really looked like Mom Bella, from the perfectly straight nose to the high cheekbones, but with stormy grey eyes instead of black and long straight hair while her mom had curly tresses. With her little hands on her lips and a furrowed brow, she looked even more like their mom. Harry was half inside the hole, his feet pressed against a pointy stone jutting from the wall, in the darkness. He was right, the hole felt cold and narrow. He smiled.
"I'm going to bring back the ring, so you don't die. Keep an eye out for cars, huh?"
He lowered himself even further, his hand finding some support on the rough surface. Cassie was worried, her little hands twisting against each other.
"And don't make that face, or it can get frozen like that forever," he joked, before disappearing inside the rainhole.
The place was tight, and dark. Harry was a little tall for an eight-year-old boy, with wide shoulders, and the walls of the hole were unforgiven on him. More than once his shirt snagged on something, and the last time he was sure he had ripped it. Well, he supposed it would be easier to explain a ruined outfit than a lost ring. He sighed, searching with his foot for the next foothold, finding nothing and glueing his sneaker to the wall with a tiny burst of magic. Sweat was dripping from his brow, the alternating spells were way harder than what his mom let him use inside the home, during his studies. His magic was still more accidental than controlled, so he couldn't even call what he was doing a sticking charm. Every magical foothold held differently, and twice he had lost the feel of magic and slid down roughly.
The bottom of the rainhole was exactly like he imagined: filthy, damp, cold and dark. Looking up, he could only see a small rectangle of blue sky, quite far away. It was deeper than he had expected. Harry took a deep breath, raised his hand and called forth some magic.
Cassie only wanted to show off a little. Really, they didn't need a real ring for their game, anything would be enough. However, he had the suspicion Cassie had invented that game only to get the ring. She had been crazy for it since mom Bella showed it to her, saying one day that ancient piece of metal and magic would be hers. His raven-haired little sister was anything but patient. She couldn't even understand the concept of waiting for something to happen, most of the times. It was no wonder they got in so much trouble.
But, hey, she was his cute little sis. He would get her out of trouble every time she recklessly dove in.
A small ball of light floated from his palm. It was the size of a marble ball, and the bluish light made it hard to see something in the hole, but it was better than darkness. There was a large pipe jutting from the wall, and another going down, probably to the sewer. If the ring had fallen inside that one, it would be lost forever, as it was as wide as Harry's fist. But they had heard a sound when the thing fell down, so it was probably in the muddy filth on the ground.
Hello speaker.
Harry jumped in fright, the voice seeming to echo in the confined space, neither male or female. His ball of light fizzled and gave out, so he pressed himself against the slimy stone of the wall and listened carefully. There was a rustle in the darkness, but it was too close to the ground. He concentrated and produced another light, even smaller as he was occupied listening out to dedicate himself fully to the magic.
"Where are you? Show yourself!" He said, the light floating over his stretched palm, it was hard to point it to the ground, he was afraid to drop it. Tired as he was, he might not produce another one.
*I can't understand you, speaker. Come closer, I'm here."
Against all his instincts, he knelt on the mud. There was a small snake on the ground, slithering from side to side, seeming… excited?
*A speaker! How lucky!"
Harry finally realized that the snake was the owner of the voice he was hearing. As muggles couldn't talk to snakes, that probably was something magical he was doing. Passive magic was a very wide subject, he knew something about talking to magical animals, but the snake didn't look like a Beast. He remembered mom Bella talking about some magic to talk to serpents, maybe in one of her Dark Arts lessons? Or the History ones? Or the Pureblood Customs ones? Well, probably the little guy wouldn't kill him if they could chat so normally.
Well, Cassie would have a field day when he told her about the snake. They had watched one of mom Bella's horror movies, late at night and with almost no sound on the TV, and it had a huge snake living in the sewers and eating people. Cassie loved the movies, even if she would get in trouble for watching them without permission and had talked at length about how exciting would be to have a man-eater snake in Private Drive. She would be pleased to know that her dream had come true, even if the man-eater part was still up to debate.
"What's your name?"
The snake stopped slithering and raised its small head to look at him. It was just a garden snake, probably washed down by the storm two weeks previously. Poor guy, living in the rainhole ever since. Well, it didn't look too hungry, so maybe there were rats or something down there? From its lack of reaction, it hadn't understood Harry. Maybe there was some trick to speak with snakes? Harry looked at in right in the eye.
What's your name?
What's a name?
Harry smiled. He had done it! Well, it kind of make sense for the snake not to have a name, it was kind of a human thing. Maybe non-magical animals had other ways to differentiate between each other? Smell? Did snakes had noses?
A name is… a word, I guess, you use to call people, so you can know when people are talking to you. Like when you call me speaker, that would be a name. Do you understand?
The snake seemed to ponder for an instant.
No, speaker.
Harry rolled his eyes.
Forget it, did you see a ring around here? It's a round thing, made of metal…
The snake slowly opened its mouth, showing the Black Heiress Ring inside it. It barely fit, the guy was really small. Harry jumped in happiness. Cassie wouldn't be gutted that night!
Yes! That's it! Can you give it to me?
The snake closed its mouth and looked at him in a very calculating way.
I found it. It's mine.
Well, what will you use it Mrs? You don't have fingers! But, you are right, you found it. So, how about we trade? What do you want for the ring?
The snake lowered its head for a bit, shifted its coils and then looked at him again, seeming resolute. Harry wondered if his snake-speaking powers also gave him the ability to decipher snake expressions.
Up.
He smiled. Coming closer, Harry extended his arm. The snake rubbed against it, and slowly slithered up, coiling around his flesh very firmly. Its small head stopped right next to Harry's right ear.
Are you male or female?
Female, speaker.
Harry used a small amount of magic to glue his hand to the wall. With a grunt, he started climbing, slowly and steadily. The snake looked like she was having fun.
I'll call you Penny. That's your name now. I once read a book about a guy named Pennysomething that lived in the sewers. Couldn't get much of the story, mom found it and took it from me. She said I'm too young for that kind of book.
Penny didn't offer any opinion about his mother's parenting skills.
Now, I can take you home, but first I have to tell mom about this speaking power, so I will leave you in the bushes on our lawn, it's very safe and sunny there. After, I think I can take you to my room. You'll love it, there are a big window and lots of sunlight for you to rest under. And we can try to scare Cassie, but I think she will probably call you cute instead of being scared. She has very unique tastes, even for a girl.
Harry lifted his head from the rainhole. The first thing he saw was boots, high-heeled boots made of deep black leather, shining under the sun. Naked pale tattooed legs, a very short leather skirt. Besides the legs, she saw smaller, shorter boots dangling in the air, small legs encased in ripped tights and knee-length child-sized skirt. His eyes went up two torsos, one a lot more mature than the other. The woman had one hand on her hip, the other was holding Cassie in the air by the scruff of her shirt. Smothering black eyes zeroed in him, one of the boot encased feet started to tap. Cassie was looking to the ground, bonelessly. The other kids, wisely, had disappeared as soon as Bellatrix Black appeared on the curb.
"I have a perfectly good explanation for this," Harry said clearly, acutely aware of the filth in his hair, face and body, his torn clothes, ruined sneakers and snakehead socks. He also could sense the horrible smell from the gutter, and some of it would leave with him.
The snake raised her head from his collar, looking scared and very out of her depth. Penny uncoiled forward very slowly, without taking her eyes from the woman, and opened her mouth, spatting a saliva-covered Black Heiress Ring on the street, the just payment for the lift. Bellatrix raised a single thrice pierced eyebrow, and Harry gulped.
"For all of this," he assured.
Bill Weasley was dying. There was nothing he could do about it, even if he could move his hand enough to grasp his fallen wand. He didn't even have the strength to turn over, so the blazing sun could cook him on the front side too. Instead, he laid on the burning sand, almost buried already, feeling the life leaving him.
He had never thought about death before. He had seen a lot of grief, during his first years, as his family and most of the wizarding world had suffered for a long time after You-Know-Who's defeat. However, death had always been a strange, nebulous concept for him, and his Hogwarts Years, full of life and laughter had chased the morbid thoughts away. He had gone from Hogwarts straight to Gringotts, seeking his own independence and a life of adventure. Never before he had thought that that life would be so short.
There were two main tasks a Curse Breaker had to perform, he had learned on his first day at the goblin bank. Curse Breaking itself, the art of dispelling dangerous magic, and Ward Breaking, the subtle activity of disabling protective shields and limiting lines. In class, during hands-on practice, he had soon discovered both tasks were complete opposites: one had to be fast and sharp to dispel a curse before it attacked and broke you, and one had to be slow and cautious while investigating the weakness of a ward. He had excelled in both and had quickly been sent to the Egyptian branch, where he could train with the best, finding lost treasures in long-forgotten pyramids and tombs.
It had been his first assignment. The "young bloods" working together to turn down the ward protecting the tomb, only six of them. Two goblin instructors in the back, watching and grading their work. Bill was the leader of the group, as his grades were the best, even if he still struggled with the language. He had been slow and cautious, just like the books taught him.
The curse woven inside the ward had never appeared in one of his books. In fact, it should be impossible, there was no known literature about cursing a ward, as that would be like anchoring the curse into magic itself, instead of an object. There was a rumour about You-Know-Who cursing the DADA Professor position at Hogwarts, but that was it: a rumour. One couldn't curse such an abstract concept as a staff position. One couldn't curse a ward. One couldn't react quickly to the impossible, changing from slow to quick, from cautious to sharp.
That's why Bill Weasley was dying in the sand of the desert, that's why his tentative friends and grumpy instructors were in mangled pieces around him.
He was mangled too. Something in him, something deep and primal, far more in tune with magic and his own body that his conscious self could ever be, had sensed the impact, making him pull back his wand hand and brace himself, thrusting his left arm forward, parallel to his eyes and face. The curse had ripped that arm to the shoulder socket, but his head was saved by it. At the same time, his legs gave away and he toppled on the sand. For a moment, he had thought he had been only exhausted and shocked by the magic, then he realized his legs were gone.
The scorching sand drank his blood thirstly, but even after so long, he was still alive. Bill had read about cruel curses that kept their victims alive and agonizing for hours, some even for days. Maybe that was the case, or maybe his sense of time had simply skewed so hard to make seconds feel like hours.
Something brushed him on the side and wiggled itself under his chest. He was too tired to even grunt. But his dried up lips parted and his hoarse voice screamed when he was rolled roughly, sand burning in contact with his gaping wounds. His eyes were dried and unfocused, the sun was too bright after who knows how long he laid face down. The figure towering over him was just a blur of light and shade. But, at the top, he could see red hair, beautiful like…
"Mom?"
His voice sounded weak and distant, even to him. Maybe he hadn't even spoken, just moved his lips. He was so tired, his wounds couldn't even produce pain anymore. He was floating in his head, every thought a challenge for his dulled brain. The figure crouched beside him, and a cool, god-sent cool hand brushed his long hair away from his face.
"You are very strong, you are the only one who survived."
The voice was wrong, the figure was wrong, even the red colour was wrong. It wasn't his mother, it was just a female wandering in the desert. But she caressed his face so lovingly, in his last instant in life, that he couldn't ask for better.
Then her hands snaked under his torso, like a final embrace. And she lifted him as if he were a ragdoll, and the grotesque pain robbed him of every conscious thought.
Bill was comfortable when he woke up but, even more surprising, he was still alive. Maybe it had been only a dream, he wiggled his toes just to check they were still there. But the pain from sunburns and the exhaustion was still there, proving he wrong. He opened his eyes, but couldn't see. The redhead panicked for a moment, before realizing he only had a piece of cloth over his face. His arms felt like made of lead but responded enough for him to remove the cover.
He was in a tent, just like he had been living the entire month. It was a normal wizarding tent, wide and spacious, with a pitched ceiling made of cloth. He wasn't on a bed, but on a straw mat on the floor. The smell of incense was strong, but the room was devoid of furniture. He was naked.
The nakedness made Bill realize his arms and legs were whole again. That would be impossible, as dark magic fought against the healing arts. The senior curse breakers all had scars that couldn't be vanished with magic. As he was young, he thought them wicked. The arm rotated fine, even if tired to the bone, and the fingers were deft and strong like always. He wished for a mirror, but couldn't find anything in the room, not even his wand. He craned his neck to see the arm from all angles and found the seam.
It looked like a tattoo. A black ring, half-inch thick, run around the shoulder, laying on his torso, going under his armpit and coming around the shoulder blade, as if he had painted the arm socket. Other ring circled the top of his left arm, and when he raised the appendage and stretched it perfectly away from his body, he could see the two rings aligning. Thick curving lines connected the rings, like half-moons of black, in a repeating pattern between the rings. He tried to count them, but they were too many, not even an eighth of an inch between them, all curved to the same side, all perfectly aligned, circling the whole arm. He had never seen such marking before.
Bill shifted, tossing the light sheet to the side, and stood up, wobbling a little on exhausted legs. He wiggled his toes again. The same tattoo was on his each leg, on his tights, one black ring circling the muscle the other about an inch below, half-moons connecting them. He tried to stand straight and still: both were perfectly level. He brushed his fingers over the marking, but it felt exactly like his own skin, just pure black instead of tanned.
"I see you are awake already."
The voice made him spun on the spot and he stood face to face with his saviour. The woman was older than him, but not by much, and absolutely gorgeous. Long flowing red hair, emerald green eyes, full lips and an aristocratic face over a slightly long neck that made her seen even more regal, her body looking fit and curvaceous at the same time: big breasts, small waist, long firm legs. She was wearing muggle clothing, and her small, tight shorts left her tanned legs bare. She was wearing short boots, that creaked low when she moved. Dragon hide but a muggle cut.
"Who are you?" He blushed even as the rude words left his mouth. There was no doubt the woman was directly responsible for his survival. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He opened them again. "I mean, thank you for helping me, I'm sure I would have died in the sand if not for your intervention. But, I think we've never met before…"
She seemed amused by his change of tone. She left her body slide down to the floor, crossing her legs as she did, and looked perfectly at ease, sitting in a bare room with a naked young man in front of her. He gulped and threw his hands in front of his manhood, looking wildly for something to cover himself. The light sheet over the mat flew towards his hand, and he grabbed it. However, instead of covering himself, he couldn't help but stare dumbly at the cloth.
"How…?" He had no wand, and yet he had done magic.
"You still have some of my magic in you. That's why you can do some wandless spells, for now" she was amused, and he probably had looked stupid, his eyes bouncing from her to the sheet. She arched her eyebrow and blatantly looked downwards his body, making him yelp and finally move to tie the sheet around his waist.
"I'm… I mean… Uh…" Bill was stuttering, but he couldn't piece enough words together to convey what was storming through his mind. "How…?"
"I am a licensed Healer who likes to dabble in some very obscure branches of magic. You had lost three limbs and a lot of blood, so I had to improvise with what I had at hand. Are the legs and the arm feeling okay? Any stiffing? Shakes? Needle-like pains? Crumbling?"
"No, they feel fin…crumbling?"
"As I said, I had to use what I had at hand. That means, sand."
Bill moved his hand in front of his own eyes, rotating the wrist to glance at the skin on its back, the veins and the tiny freckles.
"This is… sand?"
"Of course not. That's flesh and blood and bone, perfectly integrated with you. If not for the binding seams, you wouldn't be able to notice the difference. But, yes, that was sand before becoming flesh."
Bill never heard of a spell able to transfigure sand into flesh, even if he never been a prodigy in transfiguration like Tonks. He flexed his fingers, almost expecting them to crumble and fly away in grains.
"My name is Lily Potter, you may have heard of me."
Bill's eyes snapped to her, his own hand forgotten. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help. He was around eleven years old when Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who. While he had never met her before, there was a photograph of Lily Potter in almost every house in their world. His mother had hers just below their family clock, a huge painting of the woman cradling her baby in her arms. That woman in front of him, however, was quite different from the painting.
"You don't look like Lily Potter."
The redhead woman smiled.
"As you just observed in your own body, William Weasley, no one survives a brush with death unscratched."
He moved his lips, trying to ask her questions, but every single of them looked so important he couldn't determine which would be first. She choose for him.
"Your name was tagged on your jacket. The clothes are gone, however, and I don't have anything that fits you in here. I'll provide you with a cloak, later, when we were outside. As I said, I have an interest in obscure branches of magic and, just like your goblins friends, I realized that those old tombs and ancient magical sites are a trove of knowledge just waiting to be unburied. That's exactly what I was doing before. You and your team were trying to unlock the wrong door, I'm afraid. I've been inside the tomb for the last three days before I've found you in the sand."
"I… Uh, thank you, for saving my life."
Her smile was wide and warm, but he could detect a hint of wickedness underneath it. As soon as he realized that no Healer worked for free, dread uncurled in his stomach.
"Well, I'm afraid I didn't do it for the kindness in my heart alone, my dear. But we'll talk about the price later. About your other questions, my great knowledge about forgotten magic guaranteed my baby boy would survive that madman's Killing Curse. However, every great magic demands a greater price. When I recovered my strength, things had already changed much, both in our world as in my own body. But I'm still the woman that fought beside your late uncles in the Order of the Phoenix."
"You are really… you! But why nobody knows about it? You are a heroine in our world! A saint! A…"
"Goddess?" Her smile was predatory now, and he shivered. But, like a mouse in front of the great serpent, he couldn't move an inch. "There is nothing I would love more than announce my survival to the world, William. But I learned something that night when I first 'died'. I'm not the only one who knows the forgotten secrets of the world."
"Who?" But he realized as soon as he asked. "The Dark Lord…"
"Voldemort lives," said her, and the cold rage in her tone frightened him more than the name. "And secrecy is the only thing that keeps my baby alive. But soon will come the day when all this darkness will end, and we will come to light. And that's exactly where you come to help."
Bill had learned a lot of old magic in his training, yet every wizarding family always had some deep knowledge to share with its children. He had learned much from his parents and his father's grave voice was echoing in his mind. When a wizard saves another wizard's life, that creates a bond between them. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he could still see her, beautiful and ageless, sitting primly in front of him in the bare room, amused by his antics and predatory at the same time. He lowered his head.
"Whatever you need, I'll do it, Mrs Potter."
She beckoned him with a gesture and he got closer. She gestured again and Bill awkwardly kneeled in front of her, his new left hand grasping the tie he had done on the sheet, hoping it wouldn't slide off. Her hand was warm and gentle on his face.
"For a moment you died, in the desert. I've brought you back to life, but your old bounds haven't followed you, William. Gringotts won't know, but your oaths are gone now. Tell me, what do the goblins do with the treasure in the tombs?"
"The valuables they like, they keep. Other things they auction in very restricted events. How could I tell you that? Oh, the oath is gone. Right. I… I feel tired, Mrs Potter…"
"There is a lot to do before laying down tonight, William. When you get back to Gringotts, you will tell no one of our encounters. I buried the bodies in the sand and vanished your lost limbs and blood. You were the only survivor. You won't speak about the broken oaths and will act as they were in place, even outside the bank. Only to me you will reveal the secrets you were sworn to keep. You will tell me in advance about every auction: where will it happen? Who is coming? And, more importantly, what's going to be auctioned. In two weeks, I'll send you a secure communication method, you'll use only it to speak to me. Also, I want a list of the usual goers on those auctions. Do you still know how to copy protected documents?"
"How do you know…"
"I have some ears at Hogwarts, and your ability to break copyright spells was what brought you the goblins' attention, wasn't it? I want you to create copies of every ancient document you come across in your expeditions. Every knowledge, no matter how small, is a weapon against the Dark Lord. For the life I saved, I ask you this."
There was magic in the air, ancient magic. Bill was very tuned to that kind of thing. He could ask for an alternative, he could even outright refuse and hope she killed him in a more merciful way than dying limbless in the sand. But… His family had lost so much to the Dark Lord and Bill had seen how little the things had changed after his fall. Slytherins still hurled insults to muggleborns and half-bloods in the corridors, Snape had started to terrorize the dungeons and protect the little monsters… So much blood spilt and yet those things walked free because they had money and status. He remembered that night, that long night of crying purple eyes. He would do anything to change that world.
"I swear, Mrs Potter."
Her smile was gentle, like a mother. Something fluttered inside of him, something that he had reserved only for purple eyes and Hogwarts nights under the full moon. He felt the heat rising from his cheeks, like a firstie holding hands with a girl for the first time. The corners of her mouth twitched, as if she could hear his shameful thoughts.
"You know, Slytherin spoiled the snake symbol for us, but here, in Egypt, they have another view about it. I personally always loved snakes, didn't you know? They are so… beautiful and majestic."
Something shifted under her right sleeve, and the cloth bulged as if she had grown another arm inside it. Something hissed loud, and he felt petrified, stuck kneeling in front of her. His eyes trailed the moving thing until a ruby-red snakehead popped from her cuff. A green forked tongue tasted the air, and tiny emerald beads looked up, to his face. Bill felt sweat running on his back. Lily's ruby lips parted again to speak.
"For me, snakes are a bond. The bridge between sin and redemption, between life and death, between man and goddess. And now, Willian Weasley, the snake will be the bond between you and me."
It lurched forwards, and he screamed.
Four hours later, she took him outside the tent and pushed two backpacks on his hands. He was dressed only in a long hooded cloak, made for the desert, and transfigured boots. They were tight and uncomfortable but would last for a good while. The sun was rising on the horizon. He could see the tomb from the tent, but the sand around it was undisturbed. He had tied a strip of cloth, ripped from the sheet, around his right forearm, over the burning. He could feel something coiling under the skin. His heart was breaking at their parting.
"You need to use the point me charm every half hour, and keep going north, following the wand tip. The sands are perverse and can trick the traveller, always check the position before advancing. The goblin settlement is roughly 25 miles from here. In the first backpack are the supplies you guys brought here, try to conserve as much water as possible as there isn't much. Only eat at night, and don't make fire before warding the resting place against animals. The other backpack has some of the most interesting treasure found in the tomb after I took my pick."
He opened it, and there were gold and papyrus inside.
"Completing your mission even after the death of your team will make the goblins look at you with new eyes. Don't disappoint them, or else you'll disappoint me. Remember about your mission and never forget about what happened with the ward. You have good instincts, William, trust them and you will live a long life. And now, you need to go."
She pecked his cheek and pushed him weakly. He stumbled at first but started to walk on the shifting sands. He looked back, but couldn't see the tent, probably he was already outside the wards. He was alone, in the desert, trying to survive so he could go back home. Bill felt lonely, for maybe the first time in his life. Something shifted under his skin and he cradled the wrapped arm.
A bond between man and Goddess. Well, at least it felt better than his previous bonds to the goblins. Under the inclement sun, he walked north, feeling as many men before, who had found eternal salvation in the desert.
Cassie was in trouble. Well, it was nothing new, but this time she had screwed it up from top to bottom. She shifted in her place, scrubbing the tip of her ripped All-Star on the carpet. Her eyes were down, her whole demeanour meek and contrite. She knew she wasn't fooling her mom, but it was the proper protocol for that kind of thing. It was three days before Harry's 11th birthday, his letter would come at any moment. If he got grounded because of her, she would have screwed it up perfectly.
And he would, she could see it from his pose. His body screamed apologizes, all of them in her stead. He always put himself in trouble to alleviate her burden. He would do it again, she knew, he would shift all the blame to himself. And, this time, with a bloodied nose and ripped jacket, he wouldn't have to do much to convince them.
They heard Lily's car smashing gravel outside. A door slammed twice and thin heels clapped against the porch. The front knob twirled and her second mother walked inside the house, her brow slightly furrowed. Silently, she pecked her mom's black lips and stood beside her, crossing her arms and staring at them. She smelled nice, something like flowers. Cassie hated when she angered Lily. Her mom was great and lovingly with her, but mom Lily was soft and warm, with bear hugs that made her little ribs crack painfully sometimes. Disappointing her was worse than being gutted and have her intestines curled around her so she could be used as a yo-yo. Well, she never had been gutted before, but the films made it look very gruesome and painful.
Thinking about her mom's films made her remember she had watched one of them after everybody went to sleep and she sneaked downstairs. Thinking about that made her remember mom Lily could read minds, all the time. The redhead's brow furrowed further. Oh, crap.
"Language, Cassiopeia Lily Black" mom Lily admonished. Mindreading was so unfair! "Well, you will be happy to know the Piers boy survived."
Harry sighed beside her, but she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Unfortunately, her mom saw it.
"Cassiopeia! You should be ashamed!"
"Oh, come on! Nobody likes Piers, not even his own mom! She wouldn't even notice he died, as long as Peter was around."
"That's not the point here!" Mom started, her black hair whipping from side to side. She had forbidden Cassie to shave her left side of the head, at least until Hogwarts. She pondered if that little incident would affect her prospects for a navel piercing on her 11th birthday… "You almost killed the boy for no damn reason!"
Lily pursed her lips, she really hated swear words, but they had a deal not to reprimand each other in front of the children. Cassie knew they had a lot of deals like that, like never having sex in front of them, or sending them to batty old Figg when they held little parties or had business partners in or when it was their birthdays and they would go to London to party the night away. She hated the old squib but… well, she had a thing for her cute kittens. Harry would always say he didn't mind and even listened to the same old stories about them. But, well, Harry was nice to anybody. Even to her, who always get him in trouble.
She deserved a good spanking, and would even accept it gladly if he could be sent away scot free. But, well, their moms stopped spanking her when she got old enough to stop fearing the pain and started enjoying it. Lily was having trouble keeping her "scolding face" instead of blowing up in laughter. Cassie tried to keep her mind clear and passive, but probably it was too late.
"He was killing Harry! I had to do something!"
All eyes shifted to Harry, who looked a little bit ashamed of it all. His nose was still bleeding and seemed crooked. Cassie hoped it would not stay like that forever, like Dumbledore's. Harry was too handsome for a crooked nose. Maybe a dragon-fang scar, like three twin slashes over his face. That would make him even more manly! Well, she would be in trouble then. He made her heart flutter just by being her kind older brother, what would happen to her if he was more manly? She would probably drop her knickers right there. Well, maybe then he would get a hint. Huh… She could try it before he left for Hogwarts. Better, she could sneak one of her used ones into his trunk. With a letter, so he wouldn't just think his mom had been distracted when packing underwear for him. Sometimes the boy could be so dense. Lily cleaned her throat. Clear mind, passive mind, clear mind, passive mind.
"Piers was talking trash about Krystal Weedon, I just wanted to make him shut up."
"Krystal?" Cassie hurled at him. Her nice train of thought had been interrupted by that name. "Piers Polkiss broke your nose because you were trying to defend Krystal?"
"Who is Krystal Weedon?" Bellatrix asked. Harry opened his mouth, but Cassie was faster.
"She is the whore of sixth grade! I can't believe you got decked by a muggle to defend her damn reputation," Mom looked like trying to interject something, but Cassie cut her. "I hope you are not making her feel special just because you made her suck your dick, Potter. I'm sure it wasn't her first."
"You made her…?"
"I didn't make anyone do anything," Harry assured his mother. Goddamn, his smug look made Cassie want to break his jaw to go with the nose. "They keep offering."
"They" mouthed Bellatrix, looking even smugger than Harry himself. Yeah, yeah, be proud of her little stud.
"So you fought the boy, after class. And he broke your nose? And how Cassie was involved in it all?"
"Oh, please. He wasn't fighting. He was getting his arse handed to him," three scolding faces looked at her, but she marched on. She was screwed already, what would be a match for someone already on fire? "Piers dropped him on the ground and was using his face as a punching bag when I arrived. That's how I got involved."
"And you…?"
"Well," Cassie wasn't ashamed of the act per se, she was ashamed of getting in trouble because of it. Lily looked like she had read and underlined that thought. Mindreading really was unfair. "I strangled him."
"Strangled…?"
"With my shoelaces. From behind. He was getting to a very interesting shade of blue before the teachers found me."
Was there a hint of pride in her mom's eyes? Clean mind, passive mind, she couldn't keep Piers' gaping fish routine from her mind eye.
Lily rubbed a hand over her own tired eyes. She sighed. Then she looked at her wife/chew toy/sub. Oh, the things Cassie had heard by accident, when she pressed her ear to their door in the middle of the night. After disabling the silencing wards. And the proximity wards. And the age line. She was very prone to accidents.
"Uh, well. You are grounded."
"She was grounded already. Remember, Bella? For the food fight. And, before that, for tricking the Langtry's boy out of his entire savings. And, before that, for running Mrs Figg over with her bike, breaking her leg."
"That was an accident! I told you already!"
"Well, the grounding thing isn't working, that's my point. I hate to take over Bella to discipline you, but this time you went too far. I'm going to hire a governess to educate you into a proper lady."
"No!"
"That's my final word. I already had someone in mind. She will shape you from the ground up, Cassiopeia. In no time, your tomboy phase will be over."
Cassie wished she could sign herself for the gutting. It would be less painful and a lot less gruesome too.
"And you! Fighting like a thug! Didn't I teach you to resolve your problems with wit and words? How witty do you think it is to brawl on the ground of the schoolyard? I sure hope you don't act like that at Hogwarts. If they call me because you were caught roaming the corridors in the middle of the night or throwing spells in the halls…!"
"Don't worry, mom. I won't be caught."
Bella couldn't help but guffaw. Lily snorted and rolled her eyes, all the anger vanishing from her instance.
"I got something this morning. I was planning for us to go to Fortescue's for a commemorative sundae but, with all of this, it's too late now. Congratulations, Harry. You are a wizard now."
From her bag, she retrieved a thick yellow envelope, made of parchment and addressed in green ink. Harry whooped and Cassie laughed, both kids almost piling up their redhead mother to read the letter. Cassie felt a pang of pain in her heart but pushed it down ruthlessly. She was happy for Harry. She was fine. She wouldn't miss him at all. In fact, she was even going to ask for his bedroom as soon as he was gone, she would move all her things to the bigger room and cram his in the smallest bedroom. Or even convert his bedroom into a game room and toss everything in the trash. He would sleep on the sofa during the summer. Or she would be kind enough to give in a corner of her own bed. And she would sleep with his arms holding her, so she would feel safe and happy…
Both her mothers embraced her, their arms circling her shivering body. Harry was over her, kissing gently her tears.
"I'll be back for Yule, you won't even miss me. And I'll write home every day, you'll have so much trouble trying to read my chicken scrawl that I'll be back before you finish reading the last one!"
She punched him in the stomach, lightly.
"Stupid. Get off me. You can't even beat down a muggle."
Harry laughed. He was handsome even with a broken nose, her big brother and his infinite kindness.
Lily took him to the kitchen, and her mother closed the door silently before kneeling in front of her. She was eight now and tall for her age, Black genes making sure she would be willowy and gorgeous just like her grandmother, or aunt Cissy. She had seen the woman on photos, and except for the eyes and hair colour, they were exactly the same. She just wished she would grow her mother's tits, for aunt Cissy had almost nothing in that department. She knew Harry liked big ones, just like their mothers or Polkiss'. The woman was completely different after installing her fake plastic juggs, looking down on everybody except when bent under Bella's body.
"Cassie," mom never called her that, except when she were very little. She felt like a child, so it was okay for now. "I know things will be difficult with Harry gone, but I want you to know you don't have to weather it alone. You can always talk to me and Lily when things get rough. You are my precious Black Princess, I'll move mountains to make you happy, don't you know it?"
She nodded, something hard blocking her throat. Stupid throat. Stupid Harry. She wouldn't miss him a bit. Her mother circled her with her inked arms and Cassie cried a little bit more. She would be strong for Harry and not miss him not even for a second. Later. For now, she needed her mom to say everything would be fine.
"I'll make sure the governess won't be too strict."
Cassie laughed at that.
"We are okay, then?"
"Course not, you are still grounded. And I'm sure you will be pumped full of etiquette lessons until you become a more civilized little monkey. But everything will be fine. And I'll kick his ass if he forgets to write you."
"You will?"
"I'll make that broken nose look like a mild nuisance in front of what I will do to him. So, I'm sure Lily lied through her teeth and has some Fortescue's under preservation charms in that bag of hers. How about we go check it out? And, tonight, you choose the film."
"Even a horror one?"
"I've just bought Freddy's Dead: Final Nightmare. They say will be the last one."
Cassie smiled wide, taking her mom's hand. She needed to properly congratulate Harry. And she needed to sneak some underwear on his trunk. With a proper letter, so he wouldn't be confused by it.
"Do you believe it will really be the last?"
"Not even for a moment."
