A/N: Thanks, as always for the reviews, guys. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I can't outright promise a chapter tomorrow, because it hasn't been started yet, but hopefully there'll be one. Hope you like this one, let me know what you think!


The Years that Followed the Morning After.

by Flaignhan.


Emily slotted her book neatly back onto the shelf, and stretched. She glanced over to the clock and groaned.

"I'm going to bed," she said to Alison. "I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night..." Alison said absent-mindedly, not taking her eyes off of the long roll of parchment she was studying, quill tucked behind her ear.

Emily left the library and walked across the tiled floor, towards the staircase. She climbed upstairs quietly, her hand sliding along the carved wooden bannister, dropping off at the end when she reached the first floor landing.

She pushed open the door to her bedroom, waving her wand at the lamp near her bed. A warm glow immediately filled the room, casting enough light for her to find her pyjamas amongst the neatly arranged piles in her wardrobe.

Three loud cracks echoed throughout the previously silent house, followed by a high pitched scream that Emily knew could only have come from her sister.

She dropped her pyjamas as soon as she heard the noise, drawing her wand and running towards the door, pulling it open. It banged on the wall, the round brass knob leaving a large dent in the adjoining wall, though Emily couldn't care less. She didn't even notice.

She ran down the stairs, taking two at a time, her father close behind her in striped blue pyjamas, his grey hair sticking up at peculiar angles. He might have looked comical, were it not for the expression of anger and determination fixed on his features, all traces of tiredness banished by adrenalin and fear for his daughter's safety.

Emily was first in the library, where six hooded figures stood, cackling as Alison fought desperately to defend herself, her wand swishing rapidly through the air as she jumped, twisted and turned to avoid jets of dark magic.

"Stupefy!"

The Death Eater it was aimed turned around just in time to block Emily's spell, sending one back at her that she only just dodged in time.

Alison took her opportunity, casting a stunning spell at him while the attention was focused on her father, sister and now also her mother. She too had joined the scene, dressing gown wrapped around her, hair in curlers and her wand out, a fierce expression on her face.

The Death Eater dropped to the floor, and the others immediately raised their wands.

"Lord Voldemort would be very displeased if he found out you had been here," Emily warned them, her wand directed at the nearest Death Eater.

Her mother, father and sister gasped at the sound of the name, but the Death Eaters merely snorted.

"Call him here, I dare you."

"The Dark Lord has more important things to be doing, we shall deal with this ourselves."

Emily turned her wand on the masked figure who had just spoken in a dark and oily voice. "And what, exactly are you dealing with?"

"The Dark Lord has given us permission to wreak havoc in our spare time. We had some spare time tonight, so..." he trailed off, then quick as a flash, directed his wand towards Emily's father.

Before any of them could do anything, a jet of blue light hit him, throwing him back against the bookshelf on the far wall, his wand rolling away from him when he landed, unconscious.

Emily acted quickly, taking advantage of the moment of shock. She sliced her wand in the direction of the offending Death Eater, his face erupting in painful boils under his mask. He cried out, his hands flying to his face, yet still not daring to remove his mask, for fear of his identity being revealed.

Alison and her mother sprung into action, her mother managing to stun one Death Eater before she took on another, her wand moving faster than Emily had ever seen it. No household charms had ever required that amount of wandwork.

Alison began charming the books on the shelves and they flew towards their attackers with alarming speed, beating them around the head and obscuring their view while Emily and her mother continued to fire curses.

Once the Death Eater who had cursed Emily's father had managed to rid himself of all of his pustules, he pointed his wand towards the wall, flicking it sharply, a satisfied grin visible below his mask.

The bookshelf against the wall began to lean over, showering Alison with thick heavy volumes, pages and hard leather covers flying everywhere. She threw her arms over her head as book after book pummelled her, crying out as the spine of a hefty encyclopaedia of protective charms cracked her on the back of the head. She dropped her wand, touching her fingers to the top of her skull, then pulled them away to see bloodstained fingertips.

Emily froze. It seemed to happen in slow motion. All of them stood to watch as, with an enormous creak, the bookshelf toppled over, trapping Alison underneath.

"Alison!" her mother screamed, running towards the upturned bookcase, her quilted slippers slapping on the floor of the library.

She never reached Alison, a stunning hex hitting her squarely in the face. She fell to the floor, with a sickening crunch, her body crumpling as though she was made of marshmallow, leaving Emily on her own to face four Death Eaters.

"Call him," she said, backing away as they approached, drawing together into a semi-circle. She kept her eyes on all four of them, pointing her wand at whichever one looked most likely to shoot first. "I dare you."

The one on the left shot a stinging hex at her, and she blocked it, thanking Merlin that Tom had shown her how to defend herself properly. The hex rebounded and hit one of the walls instead, igniting one of the tapestries. It was covered in flames in less than a second, and Emily's jaw dropped, knowing her father would be furious when he woke up; that particular tapestry had been in their family for over four centuries. She glanced towards the leering Death Eaters, who were watching the flames dance with amusement.

"Aguamenti!"

An immense jet of water burst forth from her wand, suffocating the flames in seconds, leaving a soaking wet, ruined tapestry dangling pathetically from the charred wall.

The action cost her dearly. The Cruciatus hit her with such a force that she didn't even realise what was happening to her for the ten long, agonising seconds, until the curse was lifted.

She was laying face down on the rug, yet had no memory of actually falling. The faded patterns swirled before her eyes in a mess of beige, blue, green and red. She sat up, looking at her right hand blankly, realising that there was no wand clutched in her sweaty palm.

"Shall we take it in turns?" one of them snickered.

"Shall we wake the others and make them watch?"

Emily's lip trembled as she looked around for her wand. It was lying on the floor ten feet away from her. She scrambled towards it, the painful spasms in her muscles making sure that her attempt was pointless.

Before she was even halfway towards her only means of survival, the Cruciatus hit her again. This time it was held for longer, the pain more acute. The sound of her own screams filled her ears, though she could not feel herself making any noise at all.

"Bring him here!" she said breathlessly when she was given a moment's respite. "Now!"

They laughed, and another wand was pointed at her.

Emily tried to keep her entire body from shaking. She would not let them think she was scared. "If not him, then Arcturus! Or Abraxas!"

The wand faltered, the laughter stopping short.

"I dare you!" she hissed.

One of them squatted down in front of her, peering at her curiously through his mask. "So much assumed authority for one so young," he mused.

"You tell Lord Voldemort," she said the name with disdain. Lord Voldemort had taken Tom Riddle away from her. She hated him, but he was her only way out of this alive. "You tell him that Emily wants to see him. Now."

The Death Eater raised his wand and whispered a spell that Emily could not make out.

She gasped as the blood began pouring from her stomach, the pain too much for her to even feel, as though she had touched a hot surface and her brain was telling her it was cold.

"I dare you," she breathed, her limbs becoming heavier and heavier.

"I suppose I can grant your dying wish," he said with a smirk. He rolled up his sleeve showing a thick, muscular arm with coarse hair covering the skin. He turned it over, revealing a tattoo of a skull with a snake winding its way through the mouth, as though it were a tongue. He touched the tip of his wand to the image and moments later there was a loud crack of apparition.

He took one look at her, his permanently bloodshot eyes lighting with rage.

"She wanted to see you, my Lord," the Death Eater said mockingly, turning to face the tall skeletal figure who had once gone by the name of Tom Riddle.

There was a flash of green and in an instant the smug face became fixed in one of shock.

The three remaining Death Eaters disapparated in an instant, fearing a similar fate, as their master sunk to his knees, pushing up Emily's blood soaked shirt to inspect the damage. He pressed his wand against the skin, muttering counter curse after counter curse, until he found one that made a small, but still some improvement on Emily's state.

"My Dad," she whispered.

"Don't talk," he ordered.

"Can you help him? I don't know what they hit him with, and Alison's trapped under the..." she trailed off, closing her eyes, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

He glanced quickly over his shoulder at the fallen bookshelf. One flick of his wand put it back in its rightful place, another sending all of its books back home, revealing Alison, battered, bruised and bloody, though in a much better state than Emily. Another flick of his wand caused her to regain consciousness.

He turned back to Emily, casting and re-casting the charm that was making such abominably slow progress.

"Get away from her!" Alison was pointing her wand at him.

"I need you to make a blood replenishing potion," he hissed.

Alison didn't lower her wand.

"Now, if you wish for your sister to still be alive in the morning."

"Al..." Emily whispered. She found it too difficult to say anything more.

"Quiet, you're wasting your energy."

Alison ran off and returned moments later, juggling a cauldron and a large stack of ingredients in her arms. She pointed her wand towards her mother, who was lying face down on the rug. A couple of pink rollers, having come loose from her hair, were scattered some distance away from her.

"Enervate!"

Her mother sat up, hand against her head.

"Mum! Wake Dad up!" Alison told her as she got to work, chopping up ingredients and emptying them into the cauldron. It seemed the blow to the head had not hindered her potion making abilities in the slightest

Her mother turned and saw him kneeling over Emily.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, feeling around on the floor for her wand.

"He's helping her, Mum," Alison explained. "Here, squeeze the juice out of these, and wake Dad up."

"What's wrong with her?" she asked weakly, taking the beans that Alison had thrust towards her, squashing them with the side of the knife. She passed them back to Alison and approached Emily.

"You're blocking my light," he hissed.

She stepped back, then glanced towards her husband. She pointed her wand towards him, a jet of purple light waking him instantly. He looked around, blinking several times before he realised where he was, and what had happened. His jaw dropped when he saw him, his wand pressed against his daughter's stomach, blood soaking the rug beneath them.

"What in Merlin's name –?"

"Are you done yet?"

"Just a second," Alison said, pushing her glasses up her nose. She stirred quickly, flecks of potion splashing out of the cauldron and onto her trousers. She changed directions with her ladle, a large gloop of black liquid sloshing onto the floor. She cursed under her breath, and for the first time, her mother didn't scold her.

Thirty seconds later, Alison was dipping a cup into the dark mixture. She hurried across to Emily, leaving a trail of black drips on the rug that covered the library floor. She knelt down raising Emily's head with her hand, tipping the cup against her lips.

Emily coughed as she tried to swallow, sending splatters of potion over Alison, who persevered, pouring the potion down her throat.

He watched, his thin lips pressed together as Alison took the cup away from Emily's mouth, laying her head gently down on the rug.

"Will she be okay?" she asked quietly, not looking towards him.

"I believe so," he replied stiffly.

"She kept daring them to summon you," Alison whispered. "How does she – is she one of –?" she couldn't get the sentence out, not knowing quite how to ask a murderer whether her sister had joined his despicable cause.

"You don't recognise me," he said, getting to his feet. Emily's body rose with him, following the command of his wand. "I look rather different now. Which is her bedroom? She needs rest."

Alison looked at him for the first time, surveying the high cheek bones, wondering what they would have looked like with proper flesh, not just a waxy layer of skin covering them.

"Her bedroom?" he prompted again.

"Up the stairs, turn right and it's the third door on your left."

He turned to Emily's mother and nodded, leaving the mess of the library smoothly, Emily floating at his side.


"Tom."

He clenched his fist but did not draw his wand. He imagined Emily would have something to say about it if he murdered her sister.

"That is the last time you shall address me as such, but yes."

"Mum and Dad want to call the Aurors," Alison said, nearing the bed and standing awkwardly by the side of it, her fingers pressed together as she talked into the air, not wanting to look at him.

"There will be no need," he informed her. "I will remove the remaining Death Eaters and fix any damage. You shan't be bothered again. Please extend my apologies to your parents."

"All the stories," Alison said, glancing at him and looking away again, "they say you're pure evil."

"And?"

"You're not."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No," Alison said. "Just confused. You could have been anything, you didn't need to do this, you had the brains and the charm to get anything."

"I have made advances in magic that you wouldn't believe," he replied. "Brains and charm do not achieve those kinds of results."

"If you're pure evil," Alison continued, knowing she was walking on thin ice, "why did you save her? Why after all these years? I know you never cared about her, that it was all just an act. And she swallowed it, the silly girl."

"You speak just as openly as she does," he replied, avoiding the question. "It's a trait I have always admired in her."

He picked up the boomerang on her bedside table. "Does she throw it often?"

"Every day," Alison said wearily, "and even when she's not throwing it she's carrying it round with her like she's got a Permanent Sticking Charm on her."

His mouth twisted into something that was almost a smile. He put the boomerang back in its place and trailed one pale finger down the side of her cheek. "Have you ever wondered why she doesn't look a day older than eighteen?"

"Frequently." She was unable to hide the hint of bitterness in her tone.

"It was an invention of mine. Technically she will never die, not of old age or disease at least. It seems she still has weaknesses, however."

"She's immortal?"

"I am immortal. She does not age."

"Because she throws the boomerang?"

"Yes."

"That's..." Alice couldn't think of a word that did it justice.

"I know."


She awoke to see him sitting in a chair next to her bed. The first thing she noticed was that the chair did not belong in her bedroom. It was a high backed leather armchair with small brass studs dotted along the edges. The second thing she noticed was that he was sleeping.

Emily looked over to the window. Sunlight was streaming in through a crack in the curtains, creating a strip of illuminated flooring, splitting the room into two separate halves.

He awoke with a deep breath, blinking once before all his thoughts came into focus. "How are you feeling?"

Emily thought for a second, before answering. "Stiff."

"Better stiff than dead."

"When you put it like that..." Emily said, groaning as she sat up.

"I am giving you no choice now," he said, after a short pause. "You are coming with me. I can guarantee your safety in no other way."

"I don't want you to guarantee my safety," she told him with a frown. "As grateful as I am that you saved me, I still think that you're utterly vile."

He chuckled loudly. "I will either leave here, and there will be no trace of Death Eaters having set foot in this place, or –"

"Or?"

"Or I will leave here with you, and there will be no trace of Death Eaters having set foot in this place. In addition, the most powerful protection spells ever invented will be cast upon this house and each member of your family."

"Ah."

"So you're coming with me?"

"Why do you even want me around?"

"You will have your uses, I assure you," he clasped his hands together, his expression confident.

"I'm not going to –"

"You will not have to do anything you have never done before," he told her.

Emily frowned. "What will I be doing?"

"You'll have to wait and see. Do not take it that you will be a prisoner by any means. You will be free to leave during the day –"

"Only the day?"

"It is too dangerous at night," he said. "You will have anything you wish for," he paused, and crossed his legs, pressing his fingertips together. "I have recently gained possession of a collection of books, too dangerous in subject matter even for the restricted section of the school library."

Emily opened her mouth, but it was a short while before words fell out. "My family will be safe?"

"I give you my word."

Emily smiled weakly. "You haven't changed that much, you know."

"Nor have you. It seems I can still bribe you with books that you aren't allowed to read."

Emily smiled tiredly and stifled a yawn.

"Rest," he said, standing up and vanishing the chair. "I will return tomorrow to collect you."