Make Me a Match—Chapter 10— Playing with Fire
Author: Aian Omoi
A/N: Look! I'm updating! Frequently-ish!!! hahaha I think a few of you will like this one. :]
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
There was only darkness around them, and the faint sound of wind somehow whistling around whatever structure they were now in. The flames that had transported them to this place crept down their bodies and spilt like a pool across the floor, illuminating and charring the rose petals strewn about the ground, radiating from red to pink to white in a circular pattern. Each time a petal was consumed by the fire, they burst into little pockets of rosy incense. Harry and Draco still held each other as they witnessed whatever events might unfold.
As the flames, which now turned white, began to inflame the walls of the structure which they now noticed was a cave. Reaching the ceiling, they circulated into a single condensed orb, like a chandelier, which dropped to the central ground point below: Harry and Draco, and burst into a column of fire, gently washing the boys with its startling presence. Harry and Draco released each other, feeling the fire fall of their skin without a single burn, like a waterfall.
This all occurred in a matter of seconds as rings emanated from the top of the column out around the domed, circular room back to the base of the column every few seconds, like a heartbeat, but slower. Taking a cautious step, Harry detached himself from Draco out from the column of fire, only to be followed by the magical flames.
"What is this?" Draco asked Harry, now sobered by the strange events.
"No clue." Harry twisted his hand and twirled his fingers around in the white flames, marveling at their gossamer touch. Suddenly, through a door behind them, which they had not noticed, four figures, shrouded in black fire, entered and sat each on thrones of crackling fire.
"Who are you?!" Questioned Draco, motioning for Harry to come stand near him so that they could better fortify their position if need be.
"We are but pawns in the game of Fate." Said the first.
"Interpreters of Destiny." Said the second.
"Those who would see the kismet of two beings." Said the third.
"I am a Matchmaker." Said the first figure again, who spread their black wings out behind them. Their fire disappeared, seemingly sucked like a whirlpool into a broach on their cloak. Their face was hidden by a dark hood as they sat ever still on a burgundy throne, free of fire. Her wings crackled with bolts of black lightning, which now and then struck at the ground or the ceiling near the boys.
"I am a Matchmaker." Said the second as well. Her wings, when unfurled, expanded into two ivory-white appendages, which were circled by a clear, gel-like encasing of water, which rushed down to the ground, soaking the floor before the boys' feet before coming up to encase their whole body, quenching the flames which were then sucked into a pendant on the neck of the Matchmaker. The gel-like water continued to circle their body continuously as the third figure spoke.
"I am a Matchmaker." They said, unfurling bubble-gum pink wings, whose fires were instead brought to the tips of their wings instead of trapped into a jewel. Their fire formed a secondary set of wings which set sparks off into the cold air around them. Like the others, sitting on the same burgundy throne (those this one's was a slight bit larger), this Matchmaker was also hidden by a black hood and cloak. Only the fourth figure remained silent. That is, until he spoke.
"I am a Matchmaker." Their fire was pulled into a ring and a brooch on their chest which darkly shimmered in the poor light. This one had no wings but there was a wind that circled his arms and body. Harry and Draco were still unknowing of what they should do, trying desperately to come up with something, but they had no idea where they were and what spells might be in place. Plus, they were sort of curious. Matchmaker didn't sound like Dark Lord material or anything. Not very intimidating at all.
"Harry. Show us your wings." Said the third Matchmaker, her voice more seemingly feminine. It had been hard to tell if any of the voices had had a gender at first because of the crackling of the fire. Harry glanced over at Draco nervously before allowing his wings to come out into the open. Draco marveled at their sheer beauty as the Matchmakers drew in a short breath, like a restrained gasp.
"Scarlet." Said the fourth.
"Black." Said the first.
"Blood and loneliness." Said the third.
"Hope." Said the second. Harry and Draco exchanged looks after each of these lines, wondering what it meant, cringing that the thought of blood and separation. "Harry," spoke the second figure again. "Please demonstrate your Gift."
Looking bewildered, Harry answered, "Excuse me?"
"Your Gift: what your veela soul begs for release. As I shed lightning, so you shed something in turn." Explained the first figure.
"I don't have a clue as to what you're talking about. I don't know where I am and I don't know who any of you are. If this is about me, why is he here?" Here, Harry pointed to Draco, before continuing, "How can I trust you? What is this?"
"How rude of us! My name is--" The fourth figure never said his name because he was interrupted by Draco's interjection.
"Uncle Z!" Draco ran to the figure and threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly, much to the chagrin of the attendees, minus Harry who was a little irate at being in the middle of all this without knowing what exactly was going on. "I haven't seen you in YEARS! What's all of this about with Harry?" Elder Zyphal, or Uncle Z, chuckled before releasing Draco and saying,
"Actually, It's Elder Zyphal. I am the Matchmaker for the Vampires throughout the world. Lyphinnea, it might be better if we just explained everything. Plus, even as the room smells beautifully – nice touch Sipathae- I can't stand it. It's always so dark in here." With that, he motioned for an extremely stressed Harry and ushered Draco in with him. The remaining Matchmakers followed, taking off their hoods as Zyphal did.
The room they were welcomed into was a strangely cozy living room, with hides and yarns and cards and mahogany wood furniture and lovely slate surfaces and comfy hand-stitched blankets. The boys sat together on a loveseat while the others each took a seat on various chairs or recliners.
"You see," began Lyphinnea, "As matchmakers, we're obligated to inform you of what's going to happen. Harry, dear, you'll be wanting to, um, forgive me for the crudeness of it, but, have sex with Draco." Draco blanched. Harry blushed.
"Which is precisely the thing we want to prevent, because Draco should be a dominant Vampire."
"VAMPIRE?!" Harry exclaimed, turning to Draco so fast that it was a wonder he didn't get whiplash. "VAMPIRE? WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME *THAT*?"
"Hey, I didn't know I was gonna be in that kind of relationship with you! How was I supposed to know I was gonna have to tell you that! It's not like I planned on liking you! I just found out over the summer!" Harry sat back against the sofa, scooting a bit away from Draco, and stewing with frustration.
"Boys…" Elmadora muttered under her breath with disdain.
"Well…. ANYWAY, Nothing's worse than a dominant Veela, and this normally wouldn't be a problem, except that Draco's vampirism sets the veela off inside of Harry. A natural animalistic reaction, and we'd prefer that when you two bond on Draco's birthday, that Draco would be the one, to uh… you know, do it." Zyphal ended lamely. Apparently sex wasn't the best topic of discussion for these Matchmakers, which was ironic because it was a very large part of their business.
"Hey, who said anything about a relationship anyway?" questioned Harry.
"Yeah." Agreed Draco.
Sipathae reached for the table in front of them, snatching two cards. "Sorry dears, that's just the way it is. Fate chose you two." Harry sighed with resignation. This was just the sort of thing that would happen to the Boy Who Lived.
"So now Harry, What's your Gift?" queried Lyphinnea.
"I honestly don't know." He looked at Draco, who for some reason was blushing furiously.
"Ah. We thought that might be the case. Your mother could have shown you such glorious things." Elmadora ruminated.
"You knew my mother?"
"No, not directly, but we watched her. She had been matched with your father, and we knew something wonderful would come of your birth. Her proficiency in wizard magic and veela magic alike was profound. Her gift was the ability to protect things with an abnormally strong amount of magic. She once said it was through love."
"And that's why I didn't die when Voldemort came?" Zyphal spat when Harry said the dark wizard's name.
"Yes. So now, we need to know your Gift. Like a patronus, it will take time to cultivate, so close your eyes." Coached Sipathae.
"And think of Draco. His eyes, His lips, His heart. Think of all these things. Now your most dear friends, and the world you love. Think of what makes you happy. Think of what helps you live." Continued Elmadora. Harry smiled, recalling memories long since passed, and, relaxing, felt himself slump a little against Draco's shoulder. Draco pulled Harry's head against the crook of his neck and shoulder, that place where Harry fir most perfectly.
"Now think," continued Lyphinnea, "Of them disappearing and leaving the one thing that would take them away from you. Think of what you would do to them. Think of how evil they are. Think of Voldemort." Harry tensed, feeling something feral inside of himself rip through. His eyelids opened, revealing blank, white eyes. Harry sat up straight, and as if in a trance, walked out of the cave into the vast expanse of Alaska, his wings twitching with madness.
Suddenly, Harry let out some kind of howl that was a cross between a desperate swan song and the predatory scream of bird of prey. As soon as he reached the climax of the crescendo, Harry burst into flames, which burnt the ground into a charred nothingness. A cage of flame enveloped the Matchmakers and Draco gently without harm, as the second phase of Harry's Gift began.
Harry doubled over and then violently convulsed as dark clouds circled down from the sky to his fists. The snow froze in the air as if time had, but it really hadn't. A dark shadowy figure appeared from nothing to stand in front of Harry. It was a ghostly vision of The Dark Lord. Harry began to convulse again and after the paroxysm, stood straight to face his most innate demon. His cloudy fists rose, flattening into just Harry's hands, before Harry threw a cloudy orb at the vision, which disappeared and reappeared elsewhere. Harry fell into a cosmic rhythm: pulling cloud out from Heaven, casting it at the vision, pulling fire from his soul, casting it at the vision, pulling some kind of cosmic energy from nothingness, casting it at the vision, and when Harry could no longer move with exhaustion, the whole scene fell apart.
As the darkness overtook him, Harry last recalled Draco's worried eyes, Voldemort disappearing into a void, and wings and cloaks protecting him from the freezing snow.
A/N: PLEASE REVIEW!!!!! An entire chappie with the Matchmakers! YEAH!!