Seven
Peter knelt beside the cauldron, watching the bubbling green liquid closely. This had to be just right. If he got one step wrong, it would spell disaster for his master. He could feel the impatient spirit flittering about nearby.
"Hurry Peter," Voldemort whispered. "There isn't much time. I can't stay outside of a host for long."
A bead of sweat ran into Peter's eye causing it to sting. He wasn't a great wizard, not even a competent one. What made him think that he could be the one to restore his master to a corporeal form? Why did he have to be the one to perform this task?
He sighed internally. He knew the answer to those questions. He was the only one who'd come to his masters aid. He was all his master had. There was no one else. 'No pressure, right,' he thought bitterly. 'If I fail 'it just means the end of the purpose of my life.'
Slowly Peter poured the silvery unicorn blood into the cauldron. He then dropped in a human skeleton. The acid green liquid in the cauldron turned a poisonous black.
"It is ready my master," he said kneeling before the cauldron.
"Step back," Voldemort hissed. Peter did so hurriedly and watched as the red smoke that made up Voldemort's spirit disappeared into the potion.
For a moment, everything was silent, even the wind ceased blowing through the trees. It was as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting to see if the most terrible dark wizard in a century would return. Steam billowed from the cauldron. Red and green sparks shot several feet into the air. A massive explosion shook the clearing. The ground around the cauldron was turned to glass. A plume of black flame turned the air above the cauldron into a roiling inferno. . The cauldron cracked under the extreme heat. Peter watched horrified as the flames obscured the other side of the clearing from his view. What had he done? Had he killed his master?
Slowly, the heat began to diminish, leaving a thick mist hanging in the air. Peter hesitantly approached the cauldron. He raised his wand and waved it, clearing the mist away. He saw movement amongst the shattered stone. Peter brushed the stone aside, and gasped.
A creature stared up at him. It looked vaguely human, but that only made it more horrible to look upon. The thing had a flat snake-like face. Two stubby horns grew from its forehead. Its eyes were a glowing red, like tiny flames. Its thin spindly arms ended in flat hands with long boney fingers ending in raiser sharp claws that looked as if they could cut through solid steel. Its feet were flat with only three toes. Each toe was tipped with a talon that looked just as sharp as the claws on the creature's hands.
The creature moved feebly. It pushed itself into a sitting position and looked up at Peter helplessly.
"Master," Peter whispered. "Is that you?"
The creature smiled revealing needle sharp teeth. "Yes, Peter," it hissed. "It is I. You have done well. This body will do until I can be returned to my full strength. However, I will need your help for a while longer. I am very weak at the moment. It will take time for me to regain enough strength to restore myself to a stronger body."
Peter nodded vigorously. "You can count on me, master,' he nearly sobbed. "I will not fail you."
Voldemort smiled. He knew he'd been right to recruit Peter Pettigrew. The man might not be much of a wizard, but he was loyal to a fault. Sometimes fanaticism was better than any magic. He just had to keep Peter on his side. Torturing him would do no good. It would be better to use kindness and understanding to keep Peter with him. If possible, he would make Peter love him. He would make Peter feel as though Voldemort was the only one who truly cared for him, but that would take time."
"You have done well, Peter," Voldemort hissed. "You have earned a place of honor in my service. When I am restored to full power: You will be rewarded."
Peter felt his chest swell with pride. Voldemort was proud of him. He couldn't remember the last time someone was proud of him.
"Thank you, Master," he gushed. "I will not fail you."
"Peter," Voldemort chided gently. "Failure is not a sin. Do not make promises you will be unable to keep. You will fail because it is human nature to fail. The key is to learn from our failure, so that we don't make the same mistakes again. Do you understand?"
Peter nodded frantically, looking like a child who has just been told he has just won a life time supply of candy. "Yes, My Lord," he whispered reverently. "Your wisdom is only outmatched by your magical prowess."
Voldemort laughed inwardly. Yes, this was working out perfectly. A few months and Peter would be his devoted slave, obeying any command he gave him.
HPC
Severus Snape had been the potions master at Hogwarts for thirteen years. In that time, he had been in the service of Albus Dumbledore. It was true that he'd started Dumbledore's service to spy in case his master should return, but his master was gone. He had been forced to stay in this mediocre position. He could not leave to find another position. No one wanted to hire a former servant of Voldemort. To make his position more precarious, he could not even make any under the table deals, lest Dumbledore become suspicious, and send him to Azkaban. Over the years, he had accepted the fact that he was on shaky ground. His only solace was tormenting the Gryffindors, tormenting the house for the sins of those who had tormented him when he'd been a student, but he may soon have other things to occupy his time. The pain he just felt in his left arm might be the signal of a change in the near future.
He rolled back the sleeve of his robes, and stared down at the skull with a snake protruding from its mouth burned into his flesh. Was it his imagination, or was the mark clearer, more distinct than it had been since Voldemort had been in power.
He examined it closer. Yes, there was no doubt about it. The mark was clearer, and the edges looked slightly black. The mark only turned black when Voldemort summoned his followers, but it also burned continuously until the person responded to the summons. He had merely felt a sudden sharp pain in the mark. What could this mean?
He knew that his master had tried to return two years ago, and had been thwarted. His mark had not reacted to his presence at all. Could the marks reactivation mean that The Dark Lord had a body again? A cold chill went down Snape's spine.
Who had helped him, and why? More importantly, what was he going to do if Voldemort had returned? Was his position in Voldemort's inner circle compromised?
Could he return to his master without Voldemort killing him? If Voldemort had truly returned it would be wise to go to him immediately, but that was impossible. The ministry was watching him very closely. He could not risk being sent to Azkaban. He wouldn't be able to help anyone from there. Not to mention, his current employer would know if he went back to his old ways, and he had no idea where Voldemort was at the moment. Snape scowled. His employer would probably be the easiest to manipulate. After all, he wanted to believe the best of people, and that would be his downfall.
He would bide his time for now. He needed to know for sure if his master had returned before revealing himself. He would not risk his life for someone that might have been dead for over a decade.
HPC
Lily sat up in bed, and nearly vomited. The pain in her head was unbearable. What was happening to her? She stumbled out of bed, and barely made it to the bathroom before her dinner made an encore appearance. When she was done, she laid her head against the cool porcelain. Her dream came to the forefront of her mind.
She remembered blood and fire, screams, and the smell of death. Why was she remembering these things? She had never been in a battle like the one in her dream. She slowly stood up and walked into the kitchen. Pouring herself a glass of water, she sat down at the table. She dropped her head into her hands. A slight sob racked her body. Where was her son?
She hadn't thought of Harry in years, but the pain of his loss was still as fresh as the day he had been taken. She frowned. Why hadn't she thought of him for so long? She was his Mother. It wasn't natural. She should've been searching for him every day, not sitting at home doing nothing. She finished her water and placed the glass in the sink. She would think about this in the morning. It was time that she brought her son home again.
HPC
Voldemort leaned back in his chair exhausted. Traveling so far in such a short time had taken a toll on this fragile body. He watched Peter stoking the fire. It had been so long since he'd felt the heat of a fire.
"Thank you, Peter," he said gratefully. Peter sat down in front of him and began feeding him gruel.
Voldemort hated this mess. It was a mixture of corn meal and snake venom. It was the only thing his stomach could handle at the moment. As he took another mouthful of the disgusting paste, he considered his position. It was true this stuff was disgusting, but at least it was food.
"The caretaker on the grounds will be here soon," Voldemort stated after a while.
Peter frowned. "What would you have me do, master?"
Voldemort stared off into space thoughtfully. "We can't kill him. It might cause suspicion, and considering that the old man's cottage is on the ground, we can't risk an investigation by the muggle authorities. It might be best to cast the imperius curse on him and tell him to go about his business as normal. Being a muggle, he will not be able to fight the spell.
Peter nodded. "Would you like me to cast the spell?"
"Yes, in my current condition, I am not strong enough to maintain the spell for long periods.
Peter nodded, and headed for the door. "I'll do what you say, master."
HPC
Ginny Weasley flopped onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow, trying to muffle her sobs. Why did her family hate her so much? She hadn't meant to hurt anyone. She'd just wanted a friend. Had that been so wrong?
Tom Riddle had seemed so nice at first. He acted like he actually cared about her. She had told him everything. She'd told him about her family, about her brothers ignoring her, and how excited she was to be starting classes. Tom had listened. He had given her advice, and been her friend, or so she thought. Everything changed on Halloween.
The last thing she'd remembered about October 31, 1992 was heading to the Halloween feast, and then nothing. She'd woken up the next morning in damp clothes, covered in paint. She had been worried, but that worry had turned to panic when she'd heard about the caretaker's cat being petrified. She'd wondered who could have done this. Could they do it to people? She'd taken her concerns to Tom, but Tom had not seemed concerned. He'd told her that no Hogwarts student could perform such dark magic, and she shouldn't worry.
'They'll soon catch them,' he'd said. 'Just stay with your fellow students, alright?"
Ginny had agreed. Tom was right. Just because she didn't remember the night before didn't mean she'd cursed the cat.
Over the next several months, Ginny had several more blank spots in her memory. Her messages to Tom had become more frantic. She'd begged him to help her.
"I don't know what to do,' she'd written. 'I think I'm losing my mind.'
Tom had seemed sympathetic. He'd told her not to worry. He'd encouraged her, saying that she was not losing her mind, and for a little longer, she'd believed him.
At the end of the year, Tom had revealed his true colors. Ginny remembered entering the Chamber of Secrets. She remembered Tom rising from the diary, like a devil rising from the pit, and then everything had gone black.
She'd awoken to her families screaming.
"How could you," her Mother had asked her. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Your actions could cause your Father to lose his job."
Ginny had tried to explain. She'd tried to tell them that she didn't know that Tom was a dark wizard. It was then that they'd told her who she'd been talking to.
She'd been horrified to learn she'd been talking to Voldemort. She'd tried to say sorry, but no one was listening. She had decided to wait, maybe things would die down.
They hadn't. The last two years had been hell. Her family had shunned her completely. They mainly ignored her, leaving her to her own devices. She'd been left to buy her books with her pocket money, and to take the scraps of food once her family was done eating.
She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her time at Hogwarts hadn't been any better. Her own house had ignored her, viewing her as a shame on the noble house of Gryffindor. She had no friends to help her. That was what she wanted the most. She just wanted one person that cared about her. 'Who knows,' she thought. 'Maybe this year will be different.'
HPC
Harry watched the redhead through Vivienne's viewing pool. It had been a little over two years since he'd seen her. He could not comprehend what her family was doing to her. Why would any family do that to one of their own. He heard the tap of shoes on the floor. He felt Vivienne drop a hand on his shoulder.
"Why would they do that, Mother? Why would they abandon one of their own?
Vivienne shrugged. "They are afraid, son," she said gently. "They do not truly understand what was done to their daughter. If they did, they'd probably put her in a plastic bubble for the rest of her life. Possession is akin to rape. It is a violation of the worst kind. It is a violation of the soul. She needs understanding, not hatred and disappointment.
Harry's eyes were wide. "What can we do for her?"
Vivienne touched his head tenderly. "We can't do anything for her from here, but you will be going to Hogwarts soon. Maybe you can befriend her."
There was silence for a few moments. Finally, Harry looked up at Vivienne. "Alright, I'll try."
Vivienne smiled widely. "Good, just be careful, alright. Don't let anyone know that you are one of us. The fae are far more powerful than wizards."
Harry nodded in agreement. He leaned back against Vivienne. "When do I go back?"
"September."
"The first?"
Vivienne nodded. "Yes, it will need to be the first. I want you to stay there for the entire year. You remember what will happen in October?"
Harry nodded. "You are sure it will happen?"
Vivienne nodded. "I have seen it," she shrugged. "You will do fine. You have been trained well."
Harry nodded a troubled expression on his face. "I don't know if I can do this. What if I mess up?"
Vivienne took his chin between her fingers. "You can do this," she said firmly. "I believe in you."
Harry nodded, looking unconvinced. Regardless of what his Mother said, he was only fourteen. How could he be expected to do what no other fae had done before him? He stood up straight. He may fail, but he would do what he could. He would rescue the scions of the fae and return them to Avalon if they wanted to return.
HPC
Later, Harry stood looking out at the rolling waves. What would he do if he saw Lord Voldemort. It had only been a few months since he'd defeated him for the third time. His mind went back to two years ago, when he had fought Voldemort while the evil spirit possessed the defense against the dark arts teacher at Hogwarts.
HPC
Vivienne and Harry crouched in the shadows watching as Brian struggled against Quirrell.
"We have to do something," Harry whispered urgently. "He cannot hold out much longer.
Vivienne gripped his shoulder hard. "No," she hissed. "We must wait. It isn't time yet."
As they watched, Quirrell struck Brian in the head, knocking him out cold. As he looked down at the unconscious boy, his face changed.
His eyes became red. His skin turned bone white. Every bone in his skull was revealed as the skin pulled tight.
"Time to end this arrogant little brat," he snarled in a strange hissing voice.
"Now we can move," Vivienne said and stepped out of the shadows.
The red eyes widened as they landed on her.
"You!" he hissed.
"Me," Vivienne murmured. "How have you been, Voldemort. You are certainly looking very… yourself."
"Look what you have done to me," Voldemort snarled. "You have destroyed my body. I can only enjoy the pleasures of life by possessing a willing vessel."
"A fitting punishment," Vivienne stated casually. Now do you see that death would be better than this pitiful excuse of a life you cling to?"
"Nothing is worse than death," Voldemort shrieked. "Death means oblivion. I will not subject myself to that."
"You still don't understand,' Vivienne said sadly. "Take him, Harry," she said softly.
Harry stepped out of the shadows, and snapped his fingers. Chains of ice appeared out of thin air and wrapped around Voldemort.
"What magic is this," Voldemort hissed fearfully.
"You are not anywhere near your full strength," Vivienne said. "We can't destroy you, but we can banish you."
"If you banish me, this host will die."
"He will die anyway," Vivienne said coldly. "The moment he allowed you to possess him, he sealed his own fate."
"I'm ready, Mother," Harry murmured as he finished drawing a circle around Voldemort.
Vivienne stepped back and began to chant.. " You who reside in mortal host, be gone now thy wicked ghost."
Voldemort sneered. "What was that supposed to…" He froze as the strange spell began to take effect.
Strands of golden light plunged into the body's eyes, nose, and mouth. Voldemort screamed as he was jerked out of the body.
Vivienne watched in satisfaction as the body crumbled to dust. The red smoke materialized in the air before them. She turned to Harry.
"Do you want to try and banish him?"
Harry looked at his Mother, his eyes wide.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Harry shrugged. "Evil spirit that has been such a fool, I banish you now from this school."
There was a deafening how. A violent wind blew through the room. The shade of Voldemort screamed as he was caught in the wind and carried out of the room.
Vivienne put an arm around Harry. "Not bad," she said smiling.
"Thanks Mum," Harry nudged Brian gently. "What do we do with him?"
No sooner had the question been spoken, Vivienne heard footsteps. Vivienne's arm tightened around Harry's shoulders.
"Let's go," she said hurriedly. They vanished from the hidden room, leaving a pile of ash and an unconscious boy behind.
HPC
Harry sighed as he leaned back on the beach. He felt rather than heard Vivienne sit down beside him. He turned to her, and smiled.
"I never did thank you for helping me protect my brother."
Vivienne shrugged. "I aided in his conception. That makes me partially responsible for him by our laws."
"What about second year? I thought a basilisk's stare was deadly to us as well as mortals."
"Same reason. Brian was in danger. I was honor bound to protect him."
HPC
Harry dodged the basilisk's lashing tail. He could see Vivienne off to the side, struggling to avoid the basilisk's gaze. He could hear the dark revenant laughing.
"You cannot stop me,' Tom laughed. "Soon, I will have absorbed enough energy from the little girl to return to a body."
Vivienne pulled a sword of ice from thin air. She drove the sword into the basilisk's eye. The creature shrieked in agony. It thrashed and struggled.
"No!" Tom roared in fear and rage. "What have you done?"
"Killed your snake," Vivienne chirped cheerfully.
"You will pay for this!" Tom growled. "I will rip the flesh from your bones and drink the blood from your cold dead corpses."
"No you won't," Harry said calmly.
Harry carefully pulled a foot long fang from the basilisk's mouth. Vivienne gently took the diary from Ginny's unconscious form.
"You can't!" Tom screamed. "You do not dare to do this."
"Want to bet?" Harry asked. "I don't know what enchantments are on this book, but I don't think they can stand up to basilisk venom.
Without another word, Harry drove the fang into the diary. Scarlet ink and blood spurted from the diary. Tom screamed as his body shimmered and faded from sight.
Harry dropped the fang and hurried to the girl lying on the floor. As he approached, he heard her grown.
"Harry," Vivienne called. "We've got to go now."
"But Mom," Harry began.
"Now!" Vivienne commanded. She snapped her fingers and Ginny vanished. "She's in the bathroom above us. She'll be safe there."
Reluctantly, Harry followed his Mother out of the chamber.
HPC
Harry looked at his Mother.
"How was Brian in danger? He wasn't even in the chamber."
Vivienne's lips twitched. "The danger was in the school, not the chamber. If Tom had managed to possess Ginny's body, he could have killed every student in the school, including your brother.
Harry nodded accepting the explanation. "I'll try to keep an eye on him while I'm at Hogwarts."
Vivienne nodded. "Good, now come on, let's go prepare for your trip."
HPC
Albus stretched out in his bed. He was satisfied. Things had gone exactly as he'd intended. The tournament was set up. This would be the perfect test for Brian. Tonight, he would sleep with a satisfied mind. As he drifted off, he could see images of himself being proclaimed the one who had trained the savior. He would do what was necessary for the greater good, even if that meant sacrificing Brian Potter.
HPC
Voldemort looked at Peter. It had been over a month since he'd been returned to his body. He was a little stronger now, and with this returned strength, came clarity of mind. The information that Peter had given him was very useful.
"You are sure that this tournament will take place?"
Peter nodded. "Yes, master, it is to start on October 31st."
Voldemort's needle teeth flashed in a quick grin. "Good," he hissed. "You know what you need to do?" At Peter's nod, Voldemort leaned back in his chair. "Then let it begin."
Peter bowed low. "As you wish, my master."
Voldemort watched Peter stretch out in front of the fire. For the first time since his return to a body he allowed himself to remember his humiliating defeat.
The golden green eyes had haunted his mind for years, and the way the child had thrown his own magic back at him. There was only one race he'd ever heard of that could literally hold magical energy in their bare hands, but why would the fae be interfering in the wizarding world? More importantly, what was a fae doing in a pureblood wizarding home? Voldemort stroked his chin with one long finger. What was he going to do with this information? Could this knowledge aid him in returning stronger than before?
HPC
Lily sat at the table again, her head aching. She could remember the feel of blood soaked soil, the groans of the wounded, and the screeches of the buzzards. She blinked as the memory faded.
She wished she could talk to Vivienne. Why was she having these memories? What were they? Had Vivienne formed some kind of connection between them. Was she seeing some of Vivienne's memories, or were these her memories. Was she remembering a past life?
HPC
James rolled over in bed. The potion wasn't working as well as it used to. What had gone wrong? Had Lily begun to build up immunity. He needed to do something, but what? He couldn't give her anymore potion. She was dangerously close to an overdose as it was.
He would have to find a spell to keep her under control. Surely the Potter library would have something to help. it was for the good of the Potter family. Brian needed more attention. He deserved a good life. After all, he had defeated the worst dark wizard in history. If that wasn't the definition of a hero, James didn't know what was.
A/N: Would you all prefer spells in Latin or rhymes? Also, do any of you know the difference in Fae and fey?
