Kia Ora, whanau, howsit hangin'? We slaved over this chapter, lost half of it when the laptop threw a spaz and rewarded us with the Blue Screen of DEATH, rewrote it a couple of times, and disregarded spellcheck so many times it wasn't funny. On the bright side, we wrote over 9k words for this, so you can't say that it was half-pie. Actually you can, but that's entirely up to you if you hate this story that much. But the question is, if you don't like it, then why are you still reading it? Hn?
So...um...read and review? Almost at the big reveal, people! You know how we said Chapter 14? We lied. It's Chapter 13. Although, we have dropped many, many hints.
Again, READ AND REVIEW PRETTY PLEASE IT MOTIVATES OUR WRITING AND MAKES US SO STUPIDLY HAPPY!
Enjoy!
WARNING: OOC, swearing, Squalo, Clouds, disdain of peasants, plots, OOC-ness, Shakespeare, stupidity
"...be all my sins remembered." Hamlet, William Shakespeare
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"Ru Ana Te Whenua." Alien Weaponry (Go check them out, so AMAZING! 0_o)
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The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed throughout the hospital wing, and Belladonna sat completely and utterly still, cheek smarting from the slap.
"Tell me, niece, when did all your common sense flee?"
In front of her, eyes ablaze with rage (there was worry, and fear, but Belladonna wisely didn't mention it), Lady Narcissa Malfoy stared down at her with all the disdain she could scrounge. Pinned by her gaze, Belladonna felt very much like a bug about to be squashed by Lady Malfoy's heels. She opened her mouth to answer, or apologize, but Lady Malfoy held up a pale finger, effectively silencing her.
"Malfoy Manor has a telephone. I distinctly remember making you and young Ms Lovegood memorise it until you could recite it in your sleep." Yes, that had been a very fun week over the summer holidays, before they had been discovered and she had been sent back to the giraffe.
"I also remember telling you that certain books that were included in my dowry were not to be touched under any circumstances. Including the one bound in human skin written by our ancestor, Eridanus Black."
Belladonna shrunk back against her pillows, and tried very hard not to look guilty. She had obviously failed, but what did she expect? Aunt Narcissa was a Malfoy by marriage, but she had been and always would be a Black at heart. Belladonna could only be thankful that the Hospital Wing had cleared out as soon as the full weight of Lady Malfoy's magic had been felt at the front gates. Not many cared to remember, but Narcissa Black had been a frontline fighter for the Knights of Walpurgis before they had had changed to Death Eaters and she had gotten pregnant with the ferret peasant. Truly, she pitied Aunt Narcissa for having such a stupid son. Even now, however, Aunt Narcissa was a very skilled Healer, and was more than capable of wiping the floor with any Auror that dared to challenge her.
"Aunt Narcissa, I…"
"Be. Silent." Narcissa hissed, and Belladonna flinched as Black magic, matured in a way hers wouldn't be until she reached her majority, lashed around the room, shattering the jug of water that sat on the bedside table, and slicing the 'get well' flowers in half.
"I commend you on furthering your education in such a way. However, Eridanus Black was more often than not on the wrong side of the law. You should not had even thought about neutralizing the ritual the way you did."
"I didn't have a choice!" Belladonna snarled, leaning forward and clenching at the coarse bedsheets. "Or would you rather your husband be enslaved to a madman once more?"
"Yes!" Narcissa snapped back. "If it meant that you were safe!"
"I did what was necessary!"
"You are a child!" Narcissa screamed, and all the windows in the Hospital Wing shattered. Belladonna stared, eyes wide, at the loss of control. Aunt Narcissa took a visible effort to calm down, pinning her with a glare.
"You are a child, Belladonna." She continued, mildly calmer. "You should not have been in that position in the first place."
"The cup…"
"Was a fake. The real Goblet of Fire was hidden in the Defence Professor's office." Narcissa interrupted. "The real Alastor Moody was found in a trunk, half-starved and half-dead. The imposter dropped dead an hour after you disappeared. It has been concluded that it was he who entered your name in the tournament. He had also cast the stasis spell on the younger Delacour, and had released more Acromantula into the maze than was planned." Narcissa hesitated for the barest moment, before continuing on.
"His name was Barty Crouch Junior. The man who was found next to you was Peter Pettigrew. Both Death Eaters. Sirius Black has a trial scheduled for next week. As Heiress Black, you are expected to attend."
"Do you think I should go?" Belladonna asked, unsure. Narcissa sighed, deflating, and pulled up a chair.
"As a member of House Black, I would say that it is only proper that you go. As your Aunt and personal Healer, I would say no. Your magic…" and like that, Narcissa switched back to being mad.
"You are incredibly fortunate that you did not lose it! In fact, it is most likely the fact that you are Heiress to three Ancient Houses that you did not lose it altogether! The shock would have killed you, should have killed you! It is a miracle that you are alive, and you are very lucky that the Unspeakable's are not here to drag you away for testing. The fact that you are only suffering from extreme magical exhaustion and a mild cold solidifies that. That particular ritual calls for three casters, and if you didn't have three Houses to call upon, and such large reserves, we would be holding a wake and not having this conversation."
Belladonna hung her head, and tried very hard not to break down. It had been a rough few hours, and all she wanted to do was sleep, but she knew that she deserved this telling off. She had been stupid- desperate, but stupid- and now she was paying the price.
"I hope you have learned from this very costly lesson." Narcissa finished tartly, and Belladonna nodded. It had been dawn by the time the Aurors had found her, slumped against the ropes that tied her to the stone angel, defeated and exhausted, wrists bleeding form the effort of trying to escape, with only a dead body for company. It had been the bones peasant's aunt whom had taken it upon herself to cut the ropes and drape her robes over Belladonna, careful not to touch her. It had been Auror Tonks (BlackmagicBlackprotection) whom had stood guard until they were ready to Apparate back to the school, the Metamorphagus cradling her gently, as if she might break, and fending off those who were shouting questions. It had also been Auror Tonks who had notified Aunt Narcissa of her condition, and had stood guard against the school Medi-Witch who had tried to shove potions down her throat, several of which she was allergic to.
"I am sorry, Aunt Narcissa." Belladonna mumbled, examining the coarse bedsheet. A slender finger, covered in old scars, tilted her chin up, and silver eyes held her in place.
"Do not be sorry for living, but do not forget this conversation, Belladonna. If you pull a stunt like this again, I will toss you on the duelling grounds myself."
"Yes, Aunt Narcissa." She replied obediently, and Narcissa leant in, placing a kiss on her forehead.
"Silly little raven." She murmured, drawing Belladonna into a somewhat stiff and unpractised hug, but it was the thought that counted. Blacks, in general, weren't big on physical contact, purebloods less so (unless it was in combat, because Cousin Nymphadora had a nasty left hook and an equally monstrous kick), so the fact that the normally uptight Narcissa Malfoy willingly initiated a hug…
"Stop smirking, Belladonna. It is most unladylike." Narcissa scolded, a teasing glint in her eyes, and Belladonna shrugged, Narcissa detaching herself and standing up straight, fixing her robes with a flick of her wrist.
"Behave, niece of mine. Please let me know if you require transport to your godfather's trial, should you wish to go."
"I shall. Thank you, Aunt Narcissa, for your help." Narcissa sniffed haughtily.
"Tojours Pur, little raven. May Hecate bless you."
"May the Morrigan guide you."
Narcissa swept out of the Hospital Wing, magic once more cloaking her, passing Theo and Luna as they snuck in through the doors while the nurse peasant was occupied, offering a nod to the two. Theo bowed, Luna nodded back, and they both flew to her bedside, Luna crushing her into a hug as soon as she was able.
"Idiot." She sniffed, Belladonna almost choking on blonde curls.
"You're injured." Theo stated, eyes fixating on the bandage that wrapped around her forearm where the rat peasant had cut her for the blood. Belladonna met his gaze, and shrugged.
"It's just a flesh wound, Theo."
"Just a…." Theo trailed off, turning away to stare at the broken windows, muttering a repairing charm with an unusual amount of venom, movements jerky and harsh.
"You disappeared for over six hours, Belladonna." Luna informed her. "We were worried. And then the Defence Professor dropped dead for no apparent reason, and he had a Dark Mark on his forearm, and then we heard that you had been rescued but we couldn't see you and…"
"Luna." Belladonna interrupted. "I am fine."
"Like hell you are, Bel." Theo snapped, green fire wrapping around his arm. "Extreme magical exhaustion is not something to laugh at. You won't be able to cast spells for over two weeks, three at most. That's three weeks of being in the firing line. Three weeks not being able to cast a lumos, let alone a protegeo. I don't share all my classes with you. What if Weasley decides that now is the time to drug you with a love potion, since your Familie Magiks are dormant until you have recovered? What if the older Slytherins choose to pick you off in the hallway? In the library? We can't be everywhere."
"Fleur, Viktor and Cedric have offered to watch you during class times." Luna added. "But none of them are allowed in Gryffindor Tower. You don't have any allies in there, except perhaps Heir Longbottom and Dean Thomas, but they can't be in the girl's dorm."
"Where the bushy peasant lies in wait." Belladonna muttered. "The chatty peasant and the gossipy peasant won't dare stand in her way, and Fay…" There was still no word from the brunette, and Belladonna was slowly but surely losing her mind over it.
"There is another two options." Theo spoke from the windows, staring out across the ground. "And that is you ask the House Elves to show you to the guest quarters. The only problem with that is that we risk the elves telling the teachers and the Headmaster where you are, which undoubtedly means that you will have to return to your dorms, regardless. You may get away with a few days in there, but that will not nearly be enough to replenish your magic in peace."
"That is not favourable." Luna interjected. "Simply because you will lack protection while in these quarters. Too much traffic going in and out of a previously abandoned area will not only give hints to the staff about your whereabouts (if we got the House Elves to remain silent on the matter), but also to the rest of the school, where no doubt you will be pestered for information that the Aurors and staff on-scene would not be willing to give."
"And the second option?" Belladonna leaned back into the pillows, her back starting to ache a little.
"You stay in our room. Move everything manually, procure some bedding from somewhere, and don't alert the House Elves or anyone. Fleur has offered to share her bed, since the carriage only had enough rooms for each student and the two teachers, but somehow I didn't think that you'd like that." Theo added, and Belladonna shook her head.
"As much as I like Fleur as a friend, I would not be comfortable sharing a bed."
"Durmstrang had some spare berths, but you would be in a very male dominated environment, since High Master Karkaroff decided to only bring boys for the Tournament." Luna chimed in, sending Belladonna a sly look. "But I didn't think that it would bother you. Theo vetoed. So did Cedric."
"It would be improper without a female chaperone." Theo sniffed haughtily, and Luna giggled at his expression, Belladonna hiding a smile at their antics.
"I think the second option would be best." She decided. "I could ask a Black Elf to move my things; they will not answer to the Headmaster, and the Hogwarts Elves will not be able to see them if I order them to stay hidden. Some bedding from the storage basement in Black Manor, perhaps. Maybe some wards."
"Would Lady Malfoy assist?" Luna asked, bouncing onto Belladonna's bed, and Belladonna shook her head.
"I wouldn't want to trouble Aunt Narcissa any more than I already have. She's already taken time out of her schedule to make sure that I didn't die of any unforeseen complications, and I wouldn't want to make a bother of myself."
"I doubt she would see it that way." Theo muttered, coming to lean on the other side of the bed. "But we'd have to make it fast, so that no one notices that you're missing. As far as they know, you're staying in the Hospital Wing for an undetermined amount of time."
"Stupid peasants." Belladonna commented, before she sat up quickly, ears picking up the sound of footsteps coming from the Healers Office. "Theo, perhaps ask a Nott Elf to assist you; the nurse peasant is coming."
"Luna, come on." Theo demanded, pulling the blonde off the bed, both of them hurrying towards the door.
"We'll be back as soon as we can!" Luna hissed to her, and Belladonna nodded, before lying back and pretending to be asleep as the nurse peasant approached, unquestionably about to proceed with all manner of tests, now that her Aunt Narcissa had left. Gritting her teeth, Belladonna forced herself to remain calm.
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She hated hospitals.
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"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Belladonna stepped inside the office cautiously, eyes peeled for traps. She should not have been out of bed until tomorrow, but the stupid nurse peasant (notmynurse) had deemed her fit to leave, and had all but thrown her out of the Hospital Wing, mentioning that the Headmaster had asked to see her as soon as she was better. Uneasy, Belladonna had complied, knowing that the Headmaster was a busy man, but he probably wanted the true story as to how she ended up in the graveyard.
"Ah, Ms Potter, do come in! Lemon drop?" He held out a bowl of yellow sweets, and she resisted the urge to grimace. She hated anything overly sugary; a result of watching the pigs eat over summer.
"No, thank you." She declined, the Headmaster popping one in his mouth and gesturing for her to take a seat. She did so slowly; the last time she had been unwary in sitting down, some idiot had placed a whoopee cushion under her chair. They hadn't been laughing by the time she had finished hexing them for the embarrassment. The Headmaster sat silently, scrutinizing her.
"I trust you are well, Ms Potter? It did take the Aurors a long time to find you, even with the assistance of young Ms Tonks calling upon the familial bond that you share."
"I am recuperating, thank you, Headmaster. Lady Malfoy was so kind as to lend her assistance into determining the nature of my injuries, and is confident that I will make a full recovery."
"That is good news to hear, child." Belladonna inwardly bristled at the tone, and the manner of address, but she bit her tongue, least she offend the Headmaster. Intimidating her schoolmates was one thing, taking on the Headmaster was another. She idly wondered if they would be dealing with the niceties all evening; she would rather avoid the small talk, considering she lacked the patience most of the time, and she didn't want to test how long her temper would stay at bay.
"Fate is a mysterious and fickle creature, Ms Potter." The Headmaster finally broke the silence. "One could argue that it was Fate that placed your name in the Goblet, others would disagree and say that it was the failings of a greedy man. The first party would reply that without the Goblet's assistance, you would not have made friends within the two other schools. The second would dispute that you had already made contact with Ms Delacour, and Mr Krum would have made his way to you eventually, being one of the few people who did not care about his fame." The Headmaster stared off into the middle distance, and Belladonna took great care not to look in his eyes, something warning her, and causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise.
"Would Fate really pay attention to someone as insignificant as me, Headmaster?" Belladonna asked, playing up the 'naïve schoolgirl'. "There are others more important than I in the grand scheme of things."
"Fate has a hand in all our lives, Ms Potter." He replied. "Be it small or large. Sometimes, I believe that Fate leaves behind guidelines to lead us to our fortune, or perhaps an order to dictate your fate, to drag you to your destiny, whether you like it or not. I have seen many fates and destinies, have seen students receive a 'call' to a particular vocation, seen some rise to the challenge, and seen others fall to the wayside, a few flounder, and several drown. Many are dictated by Fate; deemed her favourites, her champions, or even her playthings. Of this selection, I fear that you are the one Fate has chosen to meddle with, this time around."
"And what dictates my fate, Headmaster?" Belladonna asked, curious. Finding out that the Headmaster got philosophical was an interesting titbit, and perhaps asking for help from someone much older and wiser than her, superior in the ways of the world, wasn't such a bad idea…no. Why did she think that? Deceit, compulsion spells, her mind provided, a small murmur from Black confirming, before it went back to sleep.
"A prophecy."
"What?" Belladonna stated flatly, staring at the Headmaster. Surely, he did not just say what she thought he did.
"A prophecy that foretold the conqueror of the Dark Lord. Surely, as a disciple of Divination you would believe that…"
"Prophecies are self-fulfilling more often than not, Headmaster." Belladonna interrupted. "Anyone who studies Divination seriously could tell you that. In order for a prophecy to be valid, two opposing parties must have mutually agreed that it applied to them. One was obviously you, and I suppose that the now deceased Dark Lord Voldemort was the other."
"My dear girl…"
"I'm not your dear anything." Belladonna snarled, the Headmaster jerking back as she stabbed a knife into the desk, the pretty red fire swirling around the blade and handle. She took a deep breath, controlling her temper, least she end up back in the Hospital Wing so soon after she left it, and back into the clutches of the nurse peasant.
"What did the prophecy say?" She asked, mildly calmer, pulling her knife out of the desk and hiding it in her robes. Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent underneath.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..." The Headmaster recited, his tone weary and sounding as if the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders. Caution, her intuition warned, an act, a lie, deceit. Belladonna took a moment to process the words of the prophecy; take them apart, dissect their meaning, and then put it back together into something that made sense. Once she did, her blood boiled as the meaning, or lack of, became perfectly clear.
That was it? The damn prophecy that caused her parents to be murdered, had ruined thousands of lines, consisted of such vague ramblings that it could have related to anything? She would have never have taken it as seriously as the Headmaster did; Luna could See so much clearer, and even Theo's runes were more precise than this.
"The one spoken in the prophecy was you, Ms Potter. Voldemort chose to target you, as your birthday falls as the seventh month, July, dies. Your parents had defied him thrice, and he marked you as his equal…" His gaze flickered to the scar that marred her face, and she gritted her teeth. This was bordering on ridiculous, and she could not stand the idea of such a farce taking place.
"It refers to a boy." She stated coldly. "Which I am not. Clearly, your eyesight has long since abandoned you, along with your wits and common sense."
There. She had seen that glint before; he was irritated.
"You are the child of prophecy, boy or not, Ms Potter. Fate has decided that you will be the one to face him, and kill him." And now, the Headmaster had shown his true colours.
"He's already dead." Belladonna replied testily. "One does not simply survive the wrath of three Ancient Houses. Even if he did survive, how would he have done so, Headmaster?"
"I'm afraid that I cannot answer that question, Ms Potter."
"Cannot or will not, Headmaster?" Belladonna retorted. The slight hesitation was all the answer she needed. He was hiding something. Something big.
"If trying to convince me to be your little martyr was all you summoned me for, Headmaster, then no thank you." Belladonna stood, adjusting her school skirt so that it sat properly. "I will decline. Go find someone else to fight your fight."
"This is a fight your parents fought; to provide a better world for you." The Headmaster argued. Belladonna gave him a sarcastic smile.
"Indeed!" She replied, cheerfully. "And how is that working for them?" The smile fell.
"My parents died to create your perfect world, Headmaster. You will have to forgive me if I do not want to do the same."
"Then you leave me no choice, Ms Potter." The Headmaster stood, and aimed his wand at her unerringly; no sign of hesitation or even remorse.
"What?" She breathed, backing towards the door, her chair crashing to the floor.
"The prophecy is clear. You will be the one to defeat Voldemort, Ms Potter, even if you die trying."
How could she have been so stupid (come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly) as to fall into this trap? She was defenceless; if she attempted to use her magic to defend herself, she risked damaging her core beyond repair. She felt her back hit the door, realizing that she'd been backing away from the wand the entire time, trying the handle and finding it locked.
"Why are you doing this?" She asked, stalling for time that she knew she didn't have, ignoring the shouting coming from the portraits that lined the wall.
"Simple." The Headmaster dared twinkle at her, but his eyes were cold and furious, and Belladonna felt sick. "Because you, my dear, are essential to my plans."
"I won't!" She shouted, the pretty red flaring to life and trying to disintegrate the lock, but it was taking far too long at her current power levels, and the very use of it caused her vision to swim.
"You have no choice." The Headmaster dropped the kindly act, and Belladonna saw him for what he truly was. He was the spider, the chess master, the tyrant and the dictator. He was the puppet-master, and she had become entangled in his strings- had been entangled in his strings, and she hadn't even noticed. She had been outplayed, outsmarted, and that in itself burned in her very being, even as the Headmaster uttered the word that ended the match.
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"Obliviate."
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Grass. All she could see was grass, and an overcast sky. How…dull, and utterly typical. She vaguely remembered Aunt Narcissa talking about mindscapes during a lesson, but it had only been in passing, though. But…how had she ended up here? Last she remembered, she had been in the Headmasters office, being debriefed about the events of the graveyard, and then…nothing. Had she collapsed, or fallen asleep? Did the cat professor take her back to the dorms? Professor McGonagall had been in the meeting with her…right? Or had it been the starry professor?
Blonde drifted across her vision, and she stared at the curly locks, confused, until she remembered that yes, that was her hair. She had gotten so used to seeing dark locks instead of blonde, green eyes instead of…haterageanger. A flicker of movement caught her eyes, and she looked up to see someone else standing opposite her, the grass swaying in a serene breeze that tossed her hair and caressed her skin.
It was her, but at the same time…it wasn't.
"The memories that don't belong, are they yours?" She asked. The boy grinned at her, eyes hidden under his fringe, crown tilted at a lopsided angle, a knife held casually at his side. If not for the fact that he was a boy, she would have thought that she was looking into a mirror.
"They are." He drawled. Belladonna raised an eyebrow.
"I don't want them. Can you take them back?"
"Why?"
"I can't focus with them. They make my migraines ten times worse than normal, and they distract me during class."
"How dull." The boy sauntered towards her, knife spinning between his fingers, exactly how….exactly how she did it. What was this? "That you should be unintelligent enough to have to pay attention in class."
"Silence, peasant." Belladonna hissed. "I have to pay attention so that I know what the peasants want me to write. Hiding my true abilities is essential in this hellhole."
"Why?" The boy stopped, about two meters away, and shoved his hands in his pockets, slouching. "You are superior to them, in more ways than one. You should show them their place on the food chain. The worthless peasants aren't worth the air you breathe."
"Some are." She volleyed back, thinking of her Theo and her Luna, Fleur and Gabrielle, even Viktor and Cedric.
"Some are." The boy agreed, nodding. "But most of them aren't."
"Why are you here?" Belladonna asked, glaring. "This is my head. My mind."
"I'm trapped here." The boy shrugged. "Five years ago, you became the dominant personality. There is a chance that we could merge without any side effects, except perhaps dysphoria, but that will come later."
"What do you mean, dominant personality?" Belladonna frowned. "This is my body. It always has been."
"Has it?" The boy challenged. Belladonna found that she didn't have an answer to that.
"If it was yours,' she began cautiously, 'then why is it now mine?"
"And now, you start asking the correct questions, Belladonna." The boy smirked. "You should be more wary around the old man; he's too clever for his own good. You were lucky that this time he underestimated how much you actually remembered."
"This time?"
"You thought that this was the first time he'd erased your memories?" The boy snorted, his crown falling forwards, a hand coming up to catch it. For a moment, it felt as though something were missing from her own head, as though she should have been wearing a crown as well. She clenched her fists, fingernails making little bloody crescents on her palms. This was getting ridiculous.
"What else has he made me forget?" The boy clenched his fist, mirroring her, and his countenance grew dark, the sky above turning a dark grey, to black, flashing with the pretty red fire.
"Our most precious people." The boy hissed. "The Sky. The Sun, the Rain, the Mist. The traitors, the dangerous ones, the corrupted. Our purpose. Our revenge."
And that resonated within her, on a whole new level. If she didn't have a purpose, then what use was ambition? What use was bravery, intelligence, hard work? And if she did not have revenge, what fuelled her purpose?
"Why? Why would he…?" Belladonna swayed on the spot, shaken to her core. A puppet, that's what the headmaster wanted. A little doll to guide the masses, or a scapegoat to satisfy the crowds if all else failed. Everything that had happened in her time at Hogwarts was suddenly seen a new light. The Defence Professor in her first year, the Basilisk in her Second, the Dementors in her Third, and now the Tournament that had almost claimed her life and magic. If she stayed, what horrors would await her in her Fifth year? What would happen once she came of age? Would the Headmaster seek to control her, to bind her magic to his every will and whim?
A thought floated through her mind. If he could erase memories, could he also create them, and place them in her mind? What was real, and what wasn't? If she became the dominant personality five years ago, why could she remember being four and receiving a slap to the face for the first time? How could she remember being six and getting locked outside in the cold, in the snow, and almost dying? The times she ran away from the pigs and the giraffe to blend in with the bright colours against the dark buildings?
"Will you help me?" She asked, the request coming easily to her lips, easier than normal. "Will you help me control and hide the memories, both mine and yours?"
"Of course." The boy laughed (ushishishi). "Why wouldn't I?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well,' the boy leaned closer, and lifted his fringe, and Belladonna clamped down on the surge of angerhaterage that turned the sky black at the sight of his eyes, 'I'm you, after all. Ja, ne!"
"Wait!" Belladonna called, just as the edges of the boy started to fade. "What do I call you?"
The boy looked over his shoulder, and gave her a smile that was so similar to her own, and so sad, that her breath caught.
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"My name…is Belphegor."
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Ring Battles- Mist
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"I trust I don't have to tell you not to kill the little Mist?" Xanxus bantered, Mammon sniffing.
"It wouldn't take much." Mammon murmured. "The mistling looks like she'll keel over any second. Besides, Mist Battles are battles of the mind. If she does manage to launch a physical attack, I have a way of dealing with those."
"Be careful." Xanxus replied, watching the small miser toddle off towards the field where the battle was being held. He was only mildly worried about the Mist; Mammon was an Arcobaleno, one of the World's Strongest, so they could handle themselves. Still, something felt off about the little Mist, who was standing next to the fluffball and fiddling with the ring around her neck. She was too skittish, and her eyes were darting everywhere. Oddly enough, she held a trident in her left hand, yet she lacked the muscle and the build to wield one with any sort of form or power (Triton in Rain, Squalo's third, was a demon with the thing, and his Name certainly reflected that). It could be used as a conductor, or a focus, but if that was the case, why a trident? Why not something smaller and easier to carry around? Wires, knives, even a miniature pistol (she looked like a knife girl. Serrated, definitely), something easy to conceal, wield and carry. Not that…that…monstrosity. Was it even properly balanced for her to fight with it?
The little Mist (he'd heard the Cloud brat call her Usagi-chan once. It fit) stepped onto the field, the Rain brat cheering her on from his seat, covered in bandages from the night before, the Sun bellowing about 'EXTREME FIGHT, CHROME-CHAN!' and the fluffball nervously twisting his hands together and asking the Mist to be careful, and not to worry if they didn't get the ring. Huh, the fluffball cared about his potential Guardians. A good start. Xanxus could work with that later; he assumed that he would be teaching the brat how to survive Vongola, since the sun baby trash was allied, and didn't know the inner workings. Who knew, maybe he'd be able to change Vongola through the fluffball into something less elitist. Or maybe the fluffball would do that himself.
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"Begin."
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Mammon didn't pull any punches, starting off with weaving illusions so thick Xanxus could almost taste them. Strange and terrifying beasts surged towards the mistling, who gritted her teeth, and Conjured vines that lashed around her form like tentacles. Some sliced through the beasts, others batted them away, and Xanxus was impressed.
"Good control." Yosei commented, and Lussuria hummed.
"Especially for someone so young. Mists are generally older teens and young adults; she must have Awakened early, and learn the hard way about Mist Flames."
"Or someone taught her." Slaugh voiced the thought that Xanxus had held behind his teeth. The Mist brats movements were too controlled, too practised, to have been self-taught. The Cloud Officer was staring hard at the Cloud brat, shoulders tense and muscles wound tight. The Cloud brat was equally wired, Xanxus could see, so either Slaugh was feeding off the brat's energy, or something bad was going to happen. It might even be both, with the way things were going in the Ring Battles. To have both Clouds on edge (the Flame type well-known for having good intuition to rival the Vongola Hyper Intuition)…it didn't bode well.
He turned his attention back to the fight in time to see Mammon dodge an awkward stab from the trident, the Arcobaleno lashing out with a staff pulled out of nowhere and connecting with the girl's wrist, before they moved their hands in an odd gesture, and mist stared to flood the area, making it harder for them to see the fight.
"Voi, boss, is Mammon…?"
"Yes." Xanxus confirmed. The mist trick was one he was familiar with, and Mammon only used it when they were about to get serious. The mist, saturated with Mist Flames and Mammon's secondary Rain, dampened and dulled the senses of those within, to the point where the attacker would either fall asleep, or attack out of desperation. And desperate people made mistakes. It also served another purpose; it prevented mental scarring for those watching. Xanxus had seen what Mammon was capable of once before, and it had given him nightmares for months. No doubt Mammon was trying to keep the brats from avoiding the same fate.
.
A chill ran up his spine as the mist thickened, and reached the little Mist's feet, the girl paling, before a smirk twisted her features, and Xanxus could not shake the pervading feeling of wrongness. That smirk did not belong on the face of the girl; it was something else, something other. The mist swirled around the girl, and there was the sound of demonic laughter that definitely was not female, and everything feel into place. That was the reason she had been chosen, the reason why a little rabbit was being pitched against a giant snake.
"Rokudo Mukuro." Squalo growled, as the mist billowed and swallowed the Mist Officer and the possessed girl, then grew too thick for them to see anything, flashes of light and vines occasionally escaping.
"Is he not in Vendicare?" Slaugh queried.
"The kid was an experiment from the Estraneo Family." Yosei explained. "Apparently, he could possess anyone he had touched before. He was caught a few months back, somewhere around this area. That's probably the reason why the little Mist was chosen; a direct link to Rokudo."
"But that's stupid." Slaugh argued. "Possession, especially possession for long amounts of time, such as this, requires extreme mental stability and capability, for both the possessor and possessed. If you aren't careful, you can lose bits of yourself in another person's mind, or you can kill the possessed person, either by overloading their mental stimulation, erasing so much of their own personality and replacing it with your own, or engaging in activities that require an immense amount of cranial activity. Fighting, as well as being physically challenging, also relies on the brain for a lot of the processing; threat risks, movement, strategy and so forth."
"How do you know this?" Lussuria asked, eyes narrowed. "There is next to nothing on possession, ghostly or otherwise, let alone the side effects on a human mind in real life."
"I…" Slaugh faltered, and Xanxus stepped in.
"Enough, Lussuria. You can interrogate Slaugh after the Ring Battles. Mammon has the upper hand."
And indeed, there seemed to be less vines, and the mist that had blanketed the field was slowly dissolving, the occasional flash of light throwing shadows against the wall of white, before finally dissipating to reveal Mammon standing over their opponent, breathing hard, but holding the Mist ring in one chubby hand.
"The Mist Battle goes to the VARIA." The Cervello trash announced.
"Lussuria!" Mammon shouted. Actually shouted, childish voice raised in panic as they held their hands outstretched towards the little Mist, indigo Flames blanketing the girl, but Xanxus could see what was wrong immediately. The girl's stomach was concave, and he had seen enough corpses to know what that meant.
No organs. The little Mist had no fucking organs.
"Voi, Mist constructs. That's how she was alive."
"And likely it was Mukuro who was keeping her alive, since he's in Vendicare." Yosei surmised. "Fuck, what a mess this is turning out to be."
"The old man knew." Xanxus uttered softly, voice taunt. "There is no way in hell that he didn't know about the Mist missing organs, the Lightning being five, the Rain being near suicidal, Gokudera being inches away from a psychotic break and so desperate for attention."
"Voi, not to mention that the Sun was leaking flames too fast for him to replace if he fought." Squalo ran a hand through his hair. "Merde. What a shitty mess."
"Something stinks, boss." Yosei muttered. "It's not right. None of it."
"Sawada." Slaugh growled, an answering one coming from the Cloud brat as he too spotted the External Advisor. Xanxus narrowed his eyes; for two Clouds to dislike the External Advisor on sight…actually, most of the Clouds disliked him. It didn't help that Sawada trash flared his flames so often, even among bonded Guardians. Squalo had often complained about it, during the first few weeks after they had taken over VARIA, and they had both been forced into incessant meetings with the old man and his council of geezers. Something about how Sawada had kept pressing and pressing, until Squalo had wanted to rip his throat out.
"Don't worry, Chrome will be fine! She just needs some rest!" Sawada trash tried to push his way past Lussuria, but his Sun was having none of it. Neither was the Sun brat, whom had run over to try and help the VARIA Medic (it was cute, the way the Sun brat had gravitated to Lussuria. Lussuria certainly didn't mind). The Sun brat stood in front of Sawada, and said something too low for Xanxus to catch, but Sawada just pushed him aside, the Sun brat clutching his ribs when he landed oddly. Lussuria stood up then, towering over the External Advisor, a look of fury etched upon their face.
"Voi, boss, I'm worried about Lussuria." Squalo watched his fellow Guardian argue with Sawada. "They've been rather…short tempered lately."
"Kids are involved." Xanxus reminded his Rain. "They've always had a soft spot for kids." Lussuria had once gone out into the slums near VARIA HQ, and had spent most of the day healing the street rats and the poorer kids whose families couldn't afford medicine, dragging his Division along for the ride. Xanxus remembered that day clearly. Yaxkin had been Named then as well, if he recalled correctly.
"Voi, I know that, but…more so than usual." Squalo frowned in the direction of the Sun Officer. Xanxus knew what Squalo was trying not to say. Belphegor's disappearance had perhaps been the hardest upon Lussuria, whom had blamed themselves (all his Guardians blamed themselves), and although the Sun had managed to keep their emotions in check for almost six years, Xanxus knew that sooner or later, one of them had to crack. Lussuria had told him, in confidence, about how his Rain Officer had shut down for a couple of days after he'd been frozen (time to process, Lussuria had called it. Time to grieve, wasn't said), and had done the same for a week after Belphegor had disappeared. Mammon had admitted, while the others were asleep on the way over to Japan, that they had lost control three months before he'd been unfrozen, the miser curled up next to him and wrapping Mist Flames around them like a blanket, Xanxus sneakily adding a few Sky Flames to the mix.
Judging by the short, sharp gestures and the snappy tone Lussuria was using to argue with the External Advisor, the Thai Sun wasn't far off their own little explosion.
.
And something told Xanxus that it would be quite destructive.
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Ring Battles- Cloud
"Be careful, Slaugh." Xanxus warned his Cloud, the small Scot staring intently at her rival Cloud. "He's strong, and fast."
"But he does not utilize his full potential. My task is to drag it out of him, kicking and screaming if I must." Slaugh replied, baring her teeth. Xanxus frowned, confused.
"That's not what I…"
"Of course,' Slaugh continued, 'I suppose I can deal with the ring as well, if it's that important to you. I shall try not to beat your cousin too badly."
"Cousin?" Yosei got out, staring at Slaugh as though the cloudling had gone mad.
"They look too similar to not be related, although it might be through your mother's side more than your father's." Slaugh continued blithely. "Maybe second cousin, or third cousin."
Xanxus stared at his Cloud Officer, mouth wide open, gaping shamelessly. No one, no one, had ever mentioned his birth family (no one had the guts to, at least not to his face), no one had even talked about his drug addict mother (who, now that he looked back on it, didn't really have any sort of resemblance to him), and since the whole 'not eligible for the Vongola' thing…
There was a choking sound from the 10 gen brats when Slaugh took off her VARIA jacket (standard issue, they hadn't personalized it yet, bar the small purple cloud on the right arm), to reveal…not the standard issue gear Squalo had given her. Xanxus himself resisted the urge to choke on his own spit at the sight of some kind of very form fitting gear, leaving no doubt that despite that fact they didn't advertise it, Slaugh was definitely female. On closer inspection, the black suit seemed to have a repeating motif of feathers (crow, maybe), with some sort of family crest on the left breast pocket (Fay, she had said, of House Prince. It had been archaic, but perhaps her family was older than even Vongola). Slaugh, heedless of the stares they were getting, stretched, arching their back and twisting around to loosen their spine, bending their limbs at angles he was sure weren't possible for humans.
"The battle…." He managed to get out, and Slaugh turned to look at him, rolling their eyes as they made their way towards the giant metal cage where the Cloud Battle would be.
"If it's that important to you, then I will win. Try to watch carefully, because it might be fast."
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It was.
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Well, time wise, it was the longest yet, because both the Cloud brat and Slaugh were evenly matched. Speed wise…all he could see was a white blur (Cloud brat), and a black blur (Slaugh), with the occasional flare of purple. He had thought that perhaps his eyes were playing up, but when he had asked Lussuria, the Sun had simply confirmed that yes, the Clouds were too fast for normal eyes to keep up with. There were moments where the battle had slowed down, like when Slaugh had been slammed into the cage wall and stayed there for a few seconds to regain their breath, or when the Cloud brat had disengaged from the fight to set his nose and shoulder back into place (which earned him points with the VARIA. Kid had fantastic pain tolerance and clearly wasn't squeamish).
It had hit around the two hour mark that they both began to slow down, slow enough that they could now see how they were fighting. Slaugh was quicker, but the Cloud brat was stronger, and Xanxus could almost feel the bruises forming with every hit Slaugh took. Some of them even he would be hard pressed to take and still continue fighting.
"Voi, the cloudling is good." Squalo whistled, impressed. Yosei nodded.
"If they'd shown this much potential while we were training them…"
"Levi or some other ambitious Cloud would have taken them out." Lussuria interjected. "They were smart to hide what they were capable of. However, 'Lussuria frowned, eyes narrowed, 'I'm not entirely sure what fighting style Slaugh is using. It looks to be Shaolin Crane Form, but it's….warped."
"Mou, I have heard of House Prince." Mammon admitted quietly. "Their Territory, combined with that of a smaller, lesser clan, is Scotland, with smaller parts of England and Ireland. It is said that they…discourage any sort of mafia-ish activity on their shores. They are rumoured to have a special sort of fighting style that is only usable to family members. Slaugh's introduction…"
"It may be that House Prince." Xanxus finished, watching as Slaugh kicked the other Cloud in the head, the brat dropping to his knees and rolling to the side to avoid an axe kick that would have certainly ended the fight. He lunged upward with a snarl, a vicious punch headed straight for Slaugh's head…if Slaugh hadn't dropped into full horizontal splits, and then proceed to sweep the brat's legs out from underneath him in a very well-practised move.
"Voi." Squalo breathed, impressed. Xanxus could only nod in agreement; not even Lindworm in Rain Division could execute splits in a combat situation as easily as Slaugh just did, and they held the top scores for agility and flexibility. That type of fighting took years to build up to, which led to the question; who trained Slaugh? And why did they think it was necessary for a fourteen year old to learn how to fight like…like they would die if they didn't? All the questions built up in his head, and Xanxus was getting sick of not having answers.
.
Finally, finally, Slaugh pinned the Cloud brat, both of them covered in mud and blood, clothes ripped and panting heavily, Slaugh straddling the Cloud brat and pinning his legs in place with their own, wrists held securely, and the Cloud Officer tore the ring from the necklace with their teeth, the Cloud brat offering only a token struggle when Slaugh's teeth came closer to his neck, before falling back, limp, staring at Slaugh with an odd expression. Across from Xanxus, there was a whimper of "Hibari-sempai", before the pink-haired freaks concluded the battle.
"The Cloud Battle goes to the VARIA."
"So cute!" Lussuria squealed under their breath as Slaugh rolled off the Cloud brat, and lay in the dirt, both breathing heavily and trying to slow down their heartrates, and Xanxus cuffed the hyperactive Sun around the head.
"I said not until Slaugh is sixteen, Lussuria." He reminded, and Lussuria deflated.
"But Boss…."
"No."
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Whatever Lussuria was going to day next was interrupted by wheezing laughter, the Cloud brat jerking slightly on the ground with the force of it.
"Carnivore." He gasped out, no doubt the three broken ribs that Slaugh had given him were making things difficult for him to talk.
"HIE! HIBARI-SEMPAI?"
"Smaller carnivore." Slaugh replied, equally breathless, and Xanxus exchanged quick, confused looks with his Guardians. Maybe it was a Cloud thing. Slaugh coughed up blood, wiping it away as they struggled to sit, the Cloud brat following suit, still staring at Slaugh like a…Xanxus growled. Absolutely not.
"Marry me." The Cloud brat asked, apparently in earnest. Lussuria choked. Squalo stiffened. Yosei burst into cackles, and Mammon sighed. Slaugh, however, froze. Like a deer in headlights, Xanxus thought, amused. The other brats paled, the fluffball flailing about in a panic, the Sun Arcobaleno staring in what appeared to be shock, mixed with exasperation.
"I…um…." Oh dear Lord, his Cloud was blushing. And stammering. A fledgling crush? Some sort of Cloud magnetism? The Cloud brat stood, offering a hand, which Slaugh used to pull themselves up, standing almost chest to chest. The blush intensified. Xanxus glowered. Clouds.
"I'm…not of age until I'm seventeen…." Slaugh managed to get out, and the Cloud brat frowned.
"You are…not an adult?"
"No." Slaugh confirmed.
"Hn." The Cloud looked thoughtful, before leaning forward, and uttering something too low for Xanxus to catch. Slaugh looked ready to faint, a look of mortification spreading across her face as the Cloud brat continued to talk, before the Cloud brat stepped back, and waited, expectant. Slaugh took a deep breath, and gave the Cloud brat a smile that seemed to floor him, if his subtle gaping was anything to go by, and leaned in to whisper something that made the Cloud brat smirk. The Cloud brat met Xanxus' eyes, and Xanxus upped his Killing Intent, letting a few tendrils of Flames twist around his fingers. The brat had the nerve to bare his teeth at him, before turning and sauntering his way out of the ring, Slaugh standing still for a moment, before making her own way out.
It wasn't until Slaugh made their way back to the VARIA group, lips and teeth bloody (had they bitten the Cloud brat?), that he noticed the ink on the inside of the Cloud Officer's wrist. Slaugh, catching his questioning gaze, shrugged.
"He wanted some control exercises to improve his speed." Lussuria, however, had also seen the ink, and grabbed Slaugh's wrist, pulling the sleeve up to expose the string of numbers and kanji, before smirking at the now blushing Cloud. Xanxus frowned. He hadn't seen the Cloud brat write anything, did he even have a pen? He glowered at the…yep, the cell phone number and address written in black against Slaugh's pale skin.
"Slaugh…" Xanxus fought to keep the snarl off his face as Lussuria grinned slyly at the Cloud Officer.
"We also exchanged numbers, in order to compare training notes." Interesting. Slaugh's voice had risen in pitch, and had a defensive tone to it.
"And…?" Great, now Yosei was in on it. Perfect, he had two matchmaking fiends dead set on hooking Slaugh up with the Cloud brat.
"An offer to assist in improving my Japanese fluency." Slaugh was now cornered, Mammon snickering next to Xanxus.
"As well as…" Lussuria pressed, and finally, they had pushed too far.
"None of your damn business!" Slaugh snarled, yanking their wrist out of the Sun Officer's grip and stalking off, Squalo losing his battle with the amused laughter he had been keeping inside.
"VOI! The cloudling has an admirer!"
"Fuck off, Superbi!" Slaugh shouted, Lussuria and Yosei dissolving into cackling like demented witches. Xanxus pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to stave off a headache.
"Why me?" He groaned, looking to the sky for answers, Mammon patting his hand absently. He received none. Typical.
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"The Sky Battle will begin at 1800 tomorrow."
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Ah, fuck. He'd forgotten that he'd have to fight as well.
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Curse the shitty old man.
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Wow. If you managed to make it to the end, congrats! That was the longest chapter yet! Also, if anyone can tell us the quote we referenced and the Shakespeare play it was from, we will write you an omake of your choice (no lemons though, sorry team).
Leave us a review! What do you want to see? What do you want to happen next? TELL US THOUGHTS ON THIS STORY TO THE EXTREME!
Ja, ne!
Vicky and Siofra
