The Alliance of Magic
By: Marie-Claire
Disclaimer: Nope. No. Uh-uh. It doesn't belong to me, dammit!
Author's Note: There are some comments about names in this chapter which might offend some people. If you are one of those, I'm sorry. However, I will not change anything in this story specially for anyone. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Thirteen:
"I'm nearly finished with your costume, Sakura-chan," Tomoyo was saying as she, Sakura, and
Syaoran walked by the library, nodding at a couple of people they knew from the Defense Club.
"Maybe you could come with me this afternoon to try it out? I have a few adjustments to make, but it'll be ready in time for the Masqurade."
"Arigatou, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura thanked her with a smile. "It was really nice of you to make my costume." She opened her mouth to say more, but the words were cut off when her lips opened in a big yawn, which she tried to cover daintily with her hands.
Syaoran's eyes narrowed at that. He missed nothing, especially with his Sakura, and it hadn't escaped his notice how unusually tired she seemed to be during the last few days. He moved to ask her just what exactly she was doing nights to make her so tired when Tomoyo beat him to the question by asking, in a soft, concerned voice, "Are you alright, Sakura-chan? You seem to be awfully tired."
Only he noticed the brief flash of panic in her emerald-green eyes, before she was smiling again, saying lightly, "It's nothing, really. I was tutoring Neville late last night. Maybe that's why."
"Not getting enough sleep, hm?" Syaoran asked, his voice silky, and only Sakura caught the dark undertones in his voice, for she waved her hands in front of her face a little frantically.
"That's exactly it, Syaoran-kun. Nothing to worry about!"
They moved on forward, smiling when they saw a few of their new friends, but Syaoran made sure that Sakura knew that he wasn't so easily fooled. Holding her hand, carefully with his fingers, he traced the codes that only she and he understood.
"You're lying, Ying-Fa."
Eriol ducked behind several shelves as he scanned the library for a sign of the girl who could quite possibly become the bane of his existence. His keen ears picked up the high, slightly girlish voice of Victoria Nelsen and slid swiftly towards a secluded corner of the large room, swearing softly under his breath. He only breathed easily when the girl, apparently deciding that he wasn't to be found in that room, sashayed out with her clique of giggly, simpering friends.
Humming a little under his breath, he was about to head out towards the Restricted Section, where no doubt the more complex spell books were located, when he caught the gentle, mysterious smell of flowers.
Smiling a little, he walked leisurely over to the last shelf, and was unsurprised to see Tomoyo, her lips pursed and long, dark hair unbound, holding a book on Battle Magic that seemed totally at odds with her gentle persona.
She hadn't noticed him yet, and his smile grew wider as he studied her silently. He couldn't fathom how, but she seemed totally at ease here, amidst the dust of books and the grime of several years of no cleaning, as she would in a marble palace, dressed in the finest gowns that money could buy. Perhaps, he mused, it was because of the way she carried herself, the knowledge that she was good enough for anything, and that she didn't have to bow down to anyone. But there was a humble dignity about her that you couldn't shake... and it was the fine line that divided her from other people.
Even with her hair in disarray, and with dust in her clothes, she still looked lovely, Eriol conceded.
And because he couldn't resist the sudden swell of emotions that came with that thought, he strode over to where she had sat down, pocketing his glasses along the way, with only one goal in mind.
Tomoyo noticed him when he was only a step away from her, and her eyes widened when she saw the determined set of his face. "Hiiragizawa-kun, wha--?"
And then she was silenced in the best way Eriol knew... with a thorough kiss.
The book dropped to the floor, where it squeaked indignantly before scuttling away, but she paid it no attention as her hands lifted to lock at his nape as he deepened the kiss. It was like riding a gentle wave, soothing, refreshing... it calmed her like nothing else could. His pale hand was at her neck, and she leaned into it with a satisfied sigh.
Two Ravenclaw seventh years, looking for a particularly hard to find book, The Invisible Book of Invisibility, smiled when they saw the couple and walked away from that shelf, careful to be quite. It seemed that their House had adopted the two as their own honorary Ravenclaws in the group of foreigners, and one shrugged at his housemate as they walked away.
"No question who those two are going with to the Masquerade."
"Nelsen's going to blow her top over this one."
And because they weren't particularly fond of the girl as well, they chuckled in glee as they walked out of the library.
"I trust I don't have to warn you about the dangers of dealing with fire, Draco? Her friends wouldn't appreciate it if you play with her as carelessly as you do everyone else, and trust me when I say they would be the least of your worries." Blaise said conversationally as he twirled his wand, an Ollivander Original which was polished so much it shone. The trademark ebony of the Zabinis and with a basilisk scale as its core, it was 10 inches and very powerful.
Draco, if he had been anything less than the aristocratic pureblood that he was, would have snorted derisively at the threat. "If, and if there comes the time when you will be able to successfully intimidate me, Blaise, you will be the first to know. But that time hasn't come yet." He however, inclined his head in a graceful goodbye as he stood up from the pouf he was lounging on. "The warning is duly noted however. And Blaise?"
"Hm?"
"I will not harm her."
He walked away, knowing that Blaise trusted him enough to believe his words, for the dark-haired boy leaned back in his own chair, turning his eyes from Draco to watch the leaping, dancing flames of the stone fireplace as several of their Housemates approached him, intent on asking for his help with their own schoolwork.
His destination was the other side of the room, near the doorway, where Meilin Li was in the center of quite a sizable crowd of second and third years. She seemed to genuinely like children, and was smiling indulgently at a brown-haired third year who was describing his family's estate with great gusto. Apparently, the child was a bit homesick and Meilin had brought him out of his sad thoughts by encouraging him to relay his childhood to her.
While she was unaware of the awed and admiring stares she was getting from the youngsters, most pronounced especially in the male's faces, Draco was not, and the slight tightening of his jaw was the only clue that any observer would get of how it bothered him to have anybody else staring with more than friendly thoughts at the younger Li.
"Brat." He bit out, acknowledging the younger students crowded around her with a small nod. They nodded back at him, some of the females curtsying a little, and he met the iridiscent ruby red eyes that were watching him curiously. "If I may have a word?"
She was pouting a little from the 'brat' that he had called her, but she stood up anyways, brushing one tanned hand over her cloak to smooth them out. Or rather, his cloak, since she had yet to return it, and he had yet to ask for it.
Meilin took the arm he offered her as he led her to one of the more secluded corners of the Common Room, smiling at a few of the Slytherins who raised their heads from their own conversations to greet her with either a good-natured smirk or a simple incline of their heads. She had developed an easy camaraderie with the Dark House, and was most probably the first person whom they accepted into their fold without complaint. Due to this, her foreign friends received some kind of respect as well from the Slytherins, for anyone who knew the girl understood immediately her deep loyalty to her friends, and would brook no bad-mouthing about them.
Draco, for his part, was presenting the cool and icy image that he was known for in his House, although he could feel the amusement that rolled off from Meilin in waves as she glanced from time to time at his carefully expressionless face. Eversince the incident in The Pit, and after the talk that Blaise had with Draco, he had begun speaking with the Asian girl in a more intimate manner, attempting to get to know her and to puzzle out the interest she woke in him.
It helped that they met several times a week for their training sessions. The secluded place in the gardens where Meilin had glimpsed him before had been dubbed their unofficial Place, and Draco was proud of the fact that he was proving to be a worthy opponent to Meilin. After a particularly stressful day, those sessions, combined with his conversations with Blaise and Meilin were the only things that calmed him down.
He had taken to callling her Brat, the only term of endearment that Draco had given anyone, much like Blaise's own mi cara. He huffed inwardly. It was just like the dark Slytherin to give her a term of endearment in Italian, which was one of the most romantic languages in the world. The fact that Blaise adored the dark-haired girl wasn't exactly a secret and he often indulged in flirtations with her, but Draco was well aware that to the two, it was nothing more than friendly banter. Meilin was just as fond of Blaise as he was of her, and the sole heir of the Malfoy line was quite pleased that apparently, he was ranked close to Blaise in her affections as well.
While the rest of the school was a bit unnerved at how quickly she had been integrated into their close-knit House, Draco had no such doubts about how well she fit in with them. There was a cunning in her, much like that of her friend, the spectacled one with the mysterious smile, and a ruthlessness that amazed him as much as it made him wary. She could keep secrets, and kept a lot of them about the House of Slytherin, and her Healing Abilities and general sassy nature had earned her the respect of his housemates... as well as his own.
Which was why they had to talk.
She looked up when he offered her wine, which she accepted graciously. Then, raising expectant eyes at her friend, she smiled, "What's up, Draco?"
"I trust you don't have an escort yet for the Masquerade, am I correct?" Draco asked instead.
Raising an eyebrow at his question, she shrugged with one shoulder. "If you're going to tease me that nobody's going to ask me, I have to tell you now that it's all Blaise's fault. He's already made me turn down seven offers, for Merlin's sake! Doesn't approve of them and all that..." She smiled mischievously. "I'm threatening him that I'm going to accept the next offer anybody makes even if it's a Hufflepuff." She nodded in satisfaction. "That would irritate him more than anything, I believe."
Draco raised his own eyebrow at her, one corner of his mouth lifting up in a smirk. "Really." He drawled out. "However, I believe that you can do much, much better than a bloody Hufflepuff."
"Hm?"
"What I mean, brat, is that it would not burden me to escort you to the Ball."
"It would not burden..." She was unable to continue as she giggled in her seat, laughing as she set down her wine glass. "Draco, you make me laugh, you really, really do," she told him when she could control the laughter, her eyes glowing with the dancing flames. "Only you would be able to voice a proposal like that."
She leaned back in her plush seat as she carefully considered his offer with a teasing playfulness in her eyes. "Blaise has to go solitary, because the Prefects are going to be busy at the Ball. And besides, I have to admit you've made the most interestingly worded proposal... so, yes Draco," she smirked at him, her full lips curving in a playfully seductive smile. "I believe it would not burden me to accept your offer."
He acknowledged her acceptance with a small, rare, albeit genuine smile as he raised his own wine glass slightly before bringing it to his lips. The next hours were spent in light conversation as he proceeded to get to know the person that was Li Mei Lin more.
Sakura stared at Syaoran apprehensively, noting the tense set of his jaw and his stiff shoulders as he looked outside the window, one hand on the stone ledge, the other clenching and unclenching into a fist convulsively at his side. Harry had caught a flicker of the tenseness of Syaoran during dinner, though his friends hadn't, while their other friends, who had seated themselves at other tables, kept quiet about the whole affair. They didn't know what was bothering the amber-eyed Clan leader, but they knew that the couple would work things out eventually.
Or, more accurately, when Sakura fessed up with whatever she had done and Syaoran forgave her.
Which she just couldn't see happening with the brown-haired boy so angry.
"You lied to me."
Sakura couldn't help flinching slightly at that. "Syaoran..."
"You're hiding something and you lied willingly to keep hiding it..." Syaoran turned around, his lips a straight, angry line.
"I don't want to, Syaoran!" Sakura exploded, the green of her eyes becoming even more vibrant as they caught the meager light of the moon inside the room. "Goddess knows I would never, ever lie to you if I could help it. But I have to take care of this on my own!"
"That's bullshit and you know it!" Syaoran exploded. His amber eyes were flashing so angrily Sakura half-expected sparks to come from them. "You're not alone, Sakura. You're never alone! Goddamnit, I'm here..." He half-whispered, opening his arms to her. "Have you forgotten?"
Sakura came to him, breathing a sigh of relief as she was engulfed in the warmth of his arms. "At night, I dream, Syaoran..." She said instead, her hands on the sides of his face, her face burrowed in his chest. "And my dreams are dark..."
His arms tightened around her, gently but firmly, as he gathered her up closer to him. With amazing ease, he lifted her up and sat himself down on the wide window ledge. He was facing the moon, and carefully, he slid out the decorative chopstick that Sakura was using to hold up her hair. The silky strands fell down in a wave, lifting slightly with the wind and perfuming the air with the heady scent of roses. He ran one hand over the the long lenght of golden brown as he let her talk.
"Green light... and laughter, before the pain starts... A woman screaming and screaming, and a baby that keeps crying..." She whispered, shadows flitting across her face. "I don't understand it, but it won't let me rest... I feel as if it's trying to tell me something important... About another person."
"A prophetic dream, perhaps?" He suggested, still staring at the moon. "Have you asked Dream?"
"She reveals nothing... and the Cards, Syaoran! They're afraid..."
Outside the window, glowing over the castle, the moon seemed to flicker. Watching over Her children, spilling moonshine
over the whole land, its bright, bright whiteness flashed eerily into a deep vibrant red for a brief moment, before reverting back to its brilliant white.
For a second, the magical threads that moved the land glowed... and the castle shuddered deep inside. A darkness was coming to them... an evil, evil darkness. And it was coming soon...
Ren nocked his arrow in one fluid move, raising his practice bow expertly as he narrowed his eyes at the target. He had been doing it for an hour now, and beads of sweat ran down the side of his face and the bridge of his nose, though it didn't serve to distract him as he hit the bull's eye again and again.
On the other side of the room, which they had adopted as their own training grounds, Jason was practicing with his own weapon. Syaoran had lent him a spear, which, while not up to par with Ravenclaw's own, was enough to help him practice.
Their two Hogwarts comrades were conversing in low voices in the center of the room. Draco was twirling his staff in wide arcs, and while the moves were flashy, Ren understood that he was merely warming up and not showing off. An improvement, according to the dark-haired Gryffindor, from the time when the icy Slytherin merely sneered and smirked at everyone in the room.
"You've polished that at least a dozen times, Hadrian," Draco drawled out lazily, eyeing the gleaming sword in Harry's lap.
"Why do you call him that?" Ren asked curiously.
Draco raised one eyebrow. "It's his name, isn't it?"
"I thought your name was Harry," Ren frowned at the Gryffindor.
The Slytherin sneered at him. "You can't possibly think that a pureblood like James Potter would name his one and only son and sole heir of the Potter line such a simple name as that?"
Jason, who had been listening curiously in their conversation, shrugged half-heartedly as he strode over. "Hadrian's his real name, then?"
Malfoy nodded, sneering a little. "Dumbledore apparently wanted to ensure that Potter here would be received wholeheartedly by the Wizarding Community, and what better way than to hint that he's just any other common boy by his name. Why do you think I hated your name so much?" He asked Harry.
Harry, or Hadrian, as he had discovered, frowned in slight confusion. "I thought you hated me, not only my name."
Draco waved a hand dismissively. "Of course I hated you. You rejected my offer of friendship back in first year, and you're my rival! Not counting the fact that you're the archenemy of the so-called Dark Lord that my idiot father is serving, of course."
The expression on Harry's face was incredulous. "You're still holding a grudge over that? You were a prat back then, what would you expect?"
"And you're a foolish git, but you don't see me holding that over you, do you?" Draco retorted, still swinging his staff.
"Dumbledore is quite the manipulative old coot, you have to admit that. By downplaying your name and your achievements, you aren't going to get the respect that befits the Heir of a Pureblood Line if he keeps portraying you as some ordinary boy who always encounters a stroke of luck and escapes his enemy simply coz he's lucky." Draco gestured with one hand expressively.
At his side, Jason was nodding in agreement. "That's why you had such trouble with the Wizarding Media last year. If you don't establish your influence, they're just going to walk all over you."
"Politics, my friend. It's all politics." Ren contributed. "You have to break free of outside influence to know your own power."
"Let's start again, shall we? He stood up, executing a kind of formal bow with his hair falling in perfect waves across his forehead. "Draco Lucifer Malfoy, Heir of the Malfoy Line."
Harry seemed to have gotten the gist of what he was doing. Standing up as well, he copied the same bow with the effortless grace that he had acquired from several weeks of battle training with Sakura and Syaoran. "Hadrian James Potter, Heir of the Potter Line." And from the slight turning up of the corner of his mouth, he appreciated the sound of his newfound knowledge.
"Ren Francis Delavenne, Heir of the Delavennes of France," he laid one hand on his chest, palm down, and bowed as well.
"Jason Townsende, Heir of the Townsendes of America," He merely inclined his head, though the slight smile on his face was enough proof of his sincerity.
"I almost can't believe it," Harry whispered as he smiled at his newfound comrades, green eyes sparkling. "The Heirs of the Four Founders of Hogwarts are together."
A ruthless smile curved on Draco's pale face. "Believe it, Hadrian. Because we're here, and nothing's going to stop us."
"Nothing will be able to stop us," Jace corrected.
"A new Era has come to Hogwarts, and it will start with us." Ren finished with a mysterious smile.
All Hallow's Eve had come, and it started off with a bang.
Fireworks exploded in a flurry of multicolored lights and sounds, and the doors of the Great Hall slammed open at exactly at seven o' clock. Music was playing from an orchestra of self-playing instruments in the corner, and balls of fire lit up the darkened Great Hall merrily as they danced their own tango up in the air. The Prefects led the way into the Hall, where they descended down a wide, spiral staircase as a floating parchment boomed out their names, costumes, and Houses. The Professors were all already at the Head Table, smiling and nodding in time with the music.
Ron was fidgeting in the new dress robes that Fred and George had bought him, while preening confidently at a group of twittering fifth years. Privately, Hermione, who was dressed in a debutante's ball gown, was of the opinion that the deep, dark red of his robes and half-mask clashed horribly with his red hair, but since other females seemed to like it anyways, she kept silent.
"Where's Harry anyway?" She muttered to herself, taking a sip of the glittering punch that was in abundance at the refreshments table.
"Who knows?" Ron had heard her, apparently. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be as concerned to the whereabouts of their other best friend as she was. He was now entertaining a couple of second years with his costume concept, which was Fire.
It wasn't highly original, but who was she to protest, Hermione thought. She didn't miss the satisfied glint in his eyes, and the delight he got from the adoring faces of those surrounding him. It didn't take a genius to understand that he was reveling in the attention being thrown on him, what with Harry absent.
Perhaps she was just being unfair, Hermione mused. After all, the attention being showered on Ron was now quite justified. He was the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, though she didn't think he knew that Harry had rejected the position to give it to him. He was still the Gryffindor Prefect, which gave him quite an added influence over the other students. And finally... Hermione fingered the small phoenix pendant she hid under her robes. Ron had one too, the badge of the Junior Members of the Order of the Phoenix. Fred and George had them too, though for some reason, Harry hadn't been invited to join yet.
Their main assignment, according to the Headmaster, was to watch over Harry at all times, but if you observed Ron's attitude, one would think that they had been entrusted with the capture of all of the Dark Lord's Inner Circle DeathEaters. He loved the feeling of importance that came with being a member of such a prestigious organization, and he just ate it up.
He had even stopped coming to the Defense Association meetings, which puzzled Harry, but he had made no comment on it. Apparently, Ron believed that he was ready for anything that the Dark Lord might throw at him and needed no extra training.
He was changing, Hermione knew. And she didn't know if she liked it.
"Mione!" He called out boisterously when the giggling girls surrounding him had dispersed. "What are you doing being all silent back there?" He swaggered over to her waving at all sorts of people.
"Ron, aren't you the least bit worried about Harry?" Hermione asked, brushing an errant lock of hair away from her face.
He waved a hand dismissively. "He'll turn up sooner or later. Harry always does."
Suddenly, the crowd erupted into whispers. Faces turned up towards the spiral staircase, from where people were still arriving.
Ron swore under his breath. "What the--!"
Hermione almost choked when she looked up. "It's Harry!"
But if it was Harry, then he had changed a lot! He was wearing robes of luxurious velvet in the darkest of dark blacks, trimmed in vibrant green and silver. His pale skin and forest green eyes were even more pronounced by his clothes, and not in a bad way. His gaze was quite unnerving, for he had rid himself of his trademark broken glasses, losing the shield that blocked him from the rest of the world. His face was calm and expressionless, the upper half hidden by a black and silver half-mask. He was wielding a staff a few inches taller than him, the silver handle made up of the curled body of a snake, and apparently, he had drunk a good amount of Hair Growth Potion to complete his costume, for his hair had been tamed into a low ponytail, the tips reaching down to his knees. Maybe the weight of the added length tamed his hair, for it wasn't sticking up at all, instead falling in one elegant wave, a few tendrils curling nicely around the sides of his face and chin. All in all, it was really quite striking.
"Hadrian James Potter of Gryffindor House, as Salazar Slytherin!" The floating parchment boomed out as Harry descended down the stairs.
"Hadrian?" Hermione whispered.
"Since when was his name Hadrian?" Ron wondered out loud, not without a trace of distaste in his voice. "And what's he playing at, coming as the Founder of the Snake House?"
Harry had heard him, obviously, for his first words upon reaching them was, "Since forever, old friend. And regarding the second question, because I felt like it."
Ron was dumbfounded for a second.
At the Head Table, Dumbledore was looking a little troubled, though he tried to keep up the grandfatherly facadé for the sake of his students.
Draco and Meilin were passing by on their way to the refreshments table. They had opted to come as two of the most powerful magic wielders of time, Merlin and Morgiana, and more than a few students were openly gaping at their fine clothing. What surprised the onlookers though, was when Harry nodded at Draco, and Draco inclined his head in return.
"Bloody Hell, Harry!" Ron exploded. "Are you trying to be a Slytherin?"
Harry smirked, smirked, which made Hermione choke again, and he inclined his head, much in the way that Draco had. "Is that so wrong?"
Finally, Hermione could take no more. "Harry, what's all this Hadrian nonsense about? And are you sure it was wise to come as Salazar Slytherin? I mean, look at you! You're drawing attention to yourself!" She gesticulated wildly.
"As usual," Ron muttered lowly.
Harry's eyes narrowed for a moment at Ron. "Hadrian was the name that my father gave me, though I suppose I will still
answer to Harry. And if they want to stare, let them! It isn't going to affect me, not anymore." All this was said with such cold finality and incredible confidence that she couldn't help but be amazed.
At the other side of the room, Blaise was smirking from where he stood with Geoff Renault and Pansy Parkinson.
"The nerve of that Potter!" Pansy exploded, grimacing a little as she stared at the back of the dark-haired Gryffindor.
Geoff shook his head, though his eyes were shining with amusement, much like Blaise's. "I don't know, Pansy. What he did took balls to do, and I'm Slytherin enough to appreciate the act." He gestured with one hand at the still muttering crowd. "In one night, he shocked the whole castle and rendered them all speechless."
"He is proving to be quite a wild card, hm?" Blaise observed.
Pansy still looked disapproving, though her face looked significantly improved ever since she had it magically repaired last summer. "Draco's even encouraging him!"
"Which is the right thing to do," Blaise countered. "I for one don't wish to follow in our esteemed," the sarcasma practically dripped from his lips, "Elders' footsteps and kiss the arse of a mutated mutant, and Draco is doing the right thing by ensuring that we have a friend in Potter whenever the war erupts." Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "You are against the Dark Lord, aren't you?"
Pansy paled at his piercing gaze, though her voice was sure when she spoke. "Most definitely, Blaise. He is damaging our Estate's monetary interests, and I have no wish to be a pauper by the time this is finished."
Geoff nodded as well in affirmation. "Our House may be Dark, but we aren't all Evil. Besides, if Draco is siding with Potter, then perhaps it isn't such a bad move after all."
Blaise merely nodded at that, a dark smile on his face.
Tomoyo clasped her hands together in delight. "This is wonderful, Eriol!"
Said boy nodded in agreement as they descended down the stairs, already announced by the parchment. "It is lovely."
When they reached the floor, which had been transfigured into glass, Eriol bowed low with a smile on his face. "Would you like to dance, milady?"
Tomoyo smiled and extended one graceful hand in answer.
Students and ghost alike smiled appreciatively at them as they whirled into a graceful waltz among the other dancing couples.
Nobody seemed to notice that Eriol had charmed the floor they were taking up to make them float a good couple of inches above the ground.
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, allowed a smile to cross her face as she observed her children. "It seems to be going well, doesn't it, Severus?" Then she chuckled, saying, "Though I must admit, Mr. Potter's entrance was a bit shocking."
Snape leaned back in his seat, steepling his fingers in front of him as he did so. "I must say that it is quite an improvement for Potter," the name was spat out, "to take his true pureblood name. Imagine, the Boy-Who-Lived as simple Harry?"
The feline Animagus looked faintly disapproving. "Now, now, Severus, you know that it was Albus' idea for Mr. Potter to use that nickname. It helps the public think that he's just as average as the rest of them."
"At what cost, Minerva?" Snape murmured. "At what cost?"
"What do you mean?"
"He is the sole heir of quite an illustrious line of witches and wizards, Minerva, once of the oldest magical families in Britain. Not counting the fact that the Dark Lord himself considers him a worthy opponent. No, he is far from average."
A bemused frown was on her face when she studied him. "I never thought that I would hear the day when Severus Snape voluntarily admits that Harry Potter is far from average. I thought you hated him."
"I hated his father, and I loathe him," Snape admitted. "But I don't hate him. I may have hated his attitude, and his arrogance, but I do not hate the person that he is."
"He is far from arrogant, Severus, and you know it!"
Snape shrugged as he plucked a grape from the fruit platter in front of him. He took a few minutes to chew carefully, before saying, "Maybe not anymore. He is changing..." He looked pensive for a couple of moments, before he sneered derisively as an unfavorable entered his mind. "And so are his friends."
"Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley?" She frowned in puzzlement. "What's wrong with them?"
He raised one ebony eyebrow, brushing back his hair impatiently as he regarded her. "Come now, Minerva. Surely you have noticed?"
"Noticed what?"
Snape sighed in exasperation. "As you know, I was one of those who protested vehemently against Weasley and Granger's addition to the Order." He plucked another grape, rolling it in his fingers as he continued, "I do not think that they are mature enough for it. While I admit that Granger's brains and Weasley's strategic knowledge may be an advantage, her know-it-all attitude and his arrogance hinders whatever improvement they may bring to our cause."
Minerva sighed. "I have noticed that as well. I fear that Mr. Weasley is becoming too cock-sure of his own abilities, whatever they are. He doesn't understand that he is not as invincible as he thinks. And Ms. Granger has an irrational need to know everything there is about anything, even those issues that does not concern her."
"I am pleased that you are not blind to your cub's faults, Minerva." The Potions Master of Britain said lazily.
"It was the Headmaster's decision to let them join," She continued. "Let him deal with it."
Snape nodded as he popped the grape into his mouth. "We will see how this will turn out in time."
Fred and George, dressed aptly as jesters, were entertaining a sizeable crowd in the corner. Their eyes sparkling merrily, they took the opportunity to advertise a couple of their Wheezes in public, using a few truly unfortunate students as their guinea pigs. The crowd roared with laughter as, with a loud "POP!" the second year Hufflepuff student walking by disappeared, and in his place was a bewildered cross between a gila monster and a lemur. Apparently, the gila monster-lemur creature had the ability to breathe fire, and it snorted smoke at a couple of students as it waddled along, headed towards the Head Table where Professor McGonagall was looking apoplectic.
Seeing her furious expression, they took off, heading towards the tapestry covered wall at the far corner of the Great Hall, all the while bowing to their applauding spectators.
Ducking inside the heavy tapestry, they erupted into giggles.
"Did you see his face?" Fred cracked up, slapping a hand against the wall to support himself as he laughed.
George, from where he was rolling on the floor in giggles, shook his head as he gasped out, "Never mind his face! Did you see his tail?!"
Fred, wiping tears of laughter from his face, leaned over to help his brother to his feet. "Times like these, Georgie Porgie, make me proud to be a comic genius."
George stared at him in askance. "Georgie whattie?" Then he waved a hand dismissively. "Let's just stay here until Minnie cools down, alright?
"Sure!"
And it was in that one moment of silence, that one moment of peace, that the Weasley Twins were startled beyond anything they had imagined. Scared beyond anything they had ever imagined... And it was because of...
"Boo."
"Eeearrrghhhh!!"
Harry, who had been observing their antics silently from the shadows ever since they entered the tapestry.
Fred and George, after their initial shock, whirled around in outrage at the younger Gryffindor. "Harry Potter! How could you?!" Fred burst out.
"To your fellow Gryffindors--?" George followed.
"Your elders--"
"Your friends--"
"Whom, incidentally, gave you the Marauders Map, their most treasured possession,"
"Out of the incredible goodness of their hearts?"
"You wound us..." Georged sniffled theatrically, while Fred pounded at his chest with a martyred expression on his face.
"And doing it--"
"While dressed as a Slytherin!"
"You're evil...." George hissed dramatically. Of course, the fact that his face was still slightly pale from shock lessened the effect a little.
Harry, who had remained impassive throughout their dialogue, shrugged with a lopsided smile as he chuckled. "You should have seen your faces!"
The twins looked a little sour.
"Yes, that's fine..." George groused.
"Laugh at us."
"It's not as if we've helped you..."
"Out of your numerous close scrapes or anything..."
"And it's not as if we consider you an honorary Weasley or anything like that..."
"Yes, yes, carry on and make fun of us."
"While dressed as a SLYTHERIN!!!" Fred burst out emphatically for the second time.
Harry and George stared at Fred as they exited the tapestry. "Obsessed with Slytherins much, Gred?"
The other Weasley pinkened a little. "Sod off, Forge."
Stepping out into the light, they got their first good look at Harry's attire and both whistled appreciatively. "Wicked!" They chorused with evil grins on their faces.
Hadrian executed a flawless, sweeping bow with a modest smile on his face that made Fred and George gape. When he straightened up, however, he made a grimace, saying, "You should have seen Ron's face. He was near purple when he saw me."
"Can't take a joke, that one," George said with mock disappointment.
"Besides, at least Slytherin's way cooler than lets say... Hufflepuff?" Then Fred cringed when a gaggle of passing Hufflepuffs glared at him.
"Where is our little brother anyway?" Fred, still blushing a little as George and Harry laughed at him, glanced around the room. Then did a double take when his eyes passed the center of the ballroom. "George..." He gestured wordlessly to the location, while his brother obligingly turned to look, his eyes widening as well.
"Freakin'--"
"Hell!"
They turned to each other in mock horror, both with wicked grins on their faces that almost made Harry shudder. "Is ickle Ronniekins trying to pick up girls?!"
Harry couldn't help but chuckle, though he did make a half-hearted effort to stop their antics. "Don't tease him, please," he begged, not liking the gleam of their eyes. "I believe he's already a bit upset with me for coming here dressed like this," He gestured towards his clothing with a wince.
Fred nodded sagely. "Yeah, we don't think he'd appreciate that, especially if you're going to attract more attention than him."
"Our little widdle brother is a prat that way," George added.
Harry's eyes strayed back to where Ron was still persisting in his antics, preening and smirking at all those who noticed. "I hope not," he murmured. "I really hope not..."
"What in the bloody blazes is Harry's problem?" Ron grumbled as he glared at the dark-haired boy's back.
"Is there a problem, Ronald?" A soft, cheerful voice inquired from behind him, making the youngest Weasley male whirl around in surprise.
Ron's eyes widened a little bit in awe at the sight of Sakura's smiling face. A swirl of fairy-like blue green adorned her body, conforming to her every move, the brilliance of the cloth emphasizing the radiance of her emerald eyes. She had a pair of large butterfly wings attached to her back, which seemed to be charmed, for they twitched and fluttered every now and then.
"You look bloody gorgeous!" Ron couldn't help but blurt out, and he was inordinately confident when she laughed lightly. "Would you like to dance?" He seemed a little too sure that she would accept the offer, which was probably why his face fell when she refused with a pretty frown.
"Thank you for the offer, Ronald, but I'm here with Syaoran-kun," she refused gently.
As if mentioning his name had been a signal,l the Chinese boy materialized at her side. Ron stared enviously at the other male's green and gold attire, obviously recognizing the expensive material and the chic cut of the costume. He didn't have Sakura's impressive butterfly wings, but the immaculate white cape that he was wearing made up for it in style. A golden circlet rested on his brow, looking for all the world as if it belonged there. He was striking without being too flashy, elegant without being too boastful, and suddenly, for the first time that night, Ron began to think that he looked a little gaudy.
However, it wasn't like him to give up so easily. "Oh c'mon, Sakura," he said easily, laying a casual arm around the other girl's shoulders. "Ol' Li here wouldn't mind, would he? Just one little spin?" He leered at the other male.
Something streaked across the amber of Syaoran's eyes, something Ron didn't recognize. And because he didn't recognize it, he couldn't quite understand why it suddenly seemed as if the temperature had dropped a few degrees.
Syaoran's face was still as emotionally blank as ever, and his eyes were cool, but when he spoke, there was a warning in his voice that was easily understood. "Actually, I believe I would indeed mind." Then he smiled, coldly. And Ron's face paled. "You understand that, do you?"
Ron blanched even more. "Y-yeah, no problem. I-I'll just move along then." And without another word, he fled away from the couple as fast as he could with the orangey-red cape of his costume trailing after him.
Sakura blinked a little in surprise before letting out light peals of amused laughter. "You scared him, Syaoran-kun."
Her escort looked pleased. "It was no more than what he deserved." Then, he swept into a well-practiced bow, extending a graceful hand towards her. The sweeping move made quite a few of the students surrounding them stare, a few of the females giggling to themselves as they chattered interestedly. "A dance, if you please, my Queen?"
Sakura pretended to think it over, before she extended her own creamy hand towards his. "Why not, my King?"
And with a smile and a final, dreamy swirl of blue green against gold, they swept into the dance floor, looking very much like a king and queen as they ignored the admiring gazes of the adoring masses (students) who moved out of their path.
Meilin sighed gustily as she plopped bonelessly down on a lumpy couch. "I'm exhausted!" Then she smiled. "Exhausted, but satisfied. Draco's not a half-bad dancer."
"I would have been surprised if he was." Sakura commented, from her own reclining position on the opposite couch. "He's a pureblood aristocrat. He must have been trained for ages on social behavior."
"Like me," Syaoran added, grimacing in distaste at the remembered memories of hours of dance practice.
Tomoyo, a small smile on her lips at their conversation, walked over to them, detaching her hand from Eriol, who nodded at them and headed up to his own rooms. "Sakura," she began, "Would you please come with me to my room for a minute? I have something to show you."
Sakura smiled cheerfully back up at her, pausing for a second to accept the kiss that Syaoran dropped down on her head, then following Tomoyo out of the lounge.
The walk to Tomoyo's own quarters was silent and Sakura kept shooting curious glances at her bestfriend, but the ebony-haired girl seemed determined to keep her in suspense, for it was only when they had entered the doors to her rooms and the Silencing Charms and wards had come crashing back down did she begin to speak.
"Sakura, you're hiding it from Li-kun again."
Sakura stared at her for a moment, then her eyes narrowed and she let out a peal of bubbly laughter. "Again, Tomoyo-chan? Why would you think that?"
In contrast to Sakura's slightly tense form, Tomoyo only looked amused. Worriedly concerned, yes, but still amused. Shaking her head in exasperation, she made her way over to the dresser next to the large four-poster bed, carefully taking out a small ornate box. The wooden cover was engraved with a single gold dragon, and when she held it, closing her eyes for a second, the box glowed a deep purple before dying down. Sakura's eyes widened when her friend took out two simple golden bracelets carved in the shape of curving dragons. When they were secure on both wrists, she stood up again, and focused on Sakura.
She raised her hands, and, taking a deep breath, pushed.
The gold bracelets glowed eerily. Sakura felt the effects immediately and she gave a sigh in turn.
When the amethyst sparkles that had come with the spell died out, she opened her own emerald green eyes and pouted. "I was never good at Glamour Charms," she groused.
But it seemed that Tomoyo didn't share her light-heartedness. Her bestfriend's face was clearly distressed, and she rushed over, laying both palms against her cheeks. "Oh, Sakura!"
Tomoyo was plainly horrified at the sight of her cousin without the Glamour Charms. Dark half-circles accented her eyes and her normally rosy cheeks were pale. The clearness of her eyes were apparently brought on as well by the Charms, for now, they were dazed and a little clouded. And her hand, when she raised it to hold Tomoyo's wrist, was deathly cold.
"Why did you hide these from Li-kun? From us?" She couldn't stop the hurt that filtered into her voice and Sakura looked a little guilty.
"I didn't want to worry you guys."
"By not letting us know just how much damage you've been hiding?" She walked away, slipping out of the room through an adjacent door, then coming back in with a glass of water. "Is it the castle? You and Li-kun and Eriol are strenghtening the wards, right? Is that tiring you out? You know that those two can do it on their own. If you were getting tired, you should have told them," she chided.
"Iie," Sakura shook her head in answer. "It's not that. Setting up new wards are tiring, but I recover fast from that."
"Then what is it?"
But it was as if the Cherry Blossom's lips had been warded shut for she refused to speak another word.
Sighing in frustration, Tomoyo glanced at the antique clock at the wall. "Well, it's near midnight anyways and you should get some rest." She didn't notice the haunted look that flickered for a moment in her friend's eyes. Turning back to Sakura, who was smiling once more, she waved one hand over Sakura's face, restoring the Glamour Charms.
"Come on," she said, pulling at her friend's hands. "Let's get you to bed, alright?"
They were halfway to the door and Tomoyo was trying to disable her own wards, when the clock began to strike twelve.
A stricken look came on Sakura's face, and this time, Tomoyo didn't miss it.
Her own eyes narrowed, she whirled around, pulling down the last of the wards. "Sakura? Sakura, what is it?"
But the clock had bonged for the twelfth time. And when Tomoyo looked back, all the blood drained out of her face.
Sakura had collapsed on the ground.
"ERIOL!!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were headed to Gryffindor Tower when they heard the loud bongs of the huge godfather clock at the Great Hall.
Ron was looking a little angry, as was Hermione.
But there was no time to be angry, for in the next instant, Harry, costumes, staff and all, had dropped to the ground soundlessly as if he was a marionette whose strings had been cut.
When they pushed him onto his back, removing his half-mask, they saw a sight that made their blood run cold.
His scar was bleeding... a steady flow of dark blood that rolled down the sides of his face in creepy rivulets, like a stream of tears.
And it had turned black.
In the dungeons, Blaise was almost too late to stop Draco's fall when the other Slytherin crumpled without another word.
His wand was out the next second and a series of Ennervates spilled out of his lips.
It made no difference. His chest rising and falling steadily, the light-haired Slytherin looked as if he had simply fallen asleep.
But he wasn't waking up.
With barely disguised alarm, he whirled around to a startled Geoff and a frightened Pansy. "A Healer! We need a Healer! Get Meilin!"
They took off running, trampling over a few Slytherins who had come to investigate the commotion, only one thought on their minds.
Meilin.
Jason was standing by his own private bookshelves, pulling out a heavy tome. At his desk, Matthew was intently studying a scroll. Lex, who was leaning by the wall, idly juggling an orange, was watching Jason absently.
That was why when Jason's knees crumpled and he collapsed to the ground, the book hitting the cement with a 'thud!', he was the first to reach his friend.
"JACE!!"
A few Hufflepuffs were chattering loudly as they clambered up the stairs, their masks dangling from their fingers as they giggled with each other. Perhaps it was because they were so focused on their conversation that they only noticed the body at the middle of the winding staircase.
But when they did, hastily removing the mask that covered the unknown person's face, they paled simultaneously.
For then, and only then, did they recognize the collapsed stranger.
It was Ren Francis Delavenne.
When the huge clock at the Great Hall struck twelve, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and holder of a sundry of other illustrious titles, propped his elbows on the Head Table, his hands clasped in a praying position. And then he closed his eyes.
When the clock struck twelve, the enchanted ceiling, which had been showing a cloud-filled sky, cleared, and the large, luminescent fullness of the moon shone eerily, making a few of the remaining students break out into whispers.
It was when the clock struck twelve that the screams began to ring out.
When Harry opened his eyes, he knew it was a dream. A dream, yes, but different than all the others he had experienced. For one, there were no screams, no darkness... in fact, it was as if he had simply taken a plunge into a Pensieve. His surroundings were in crystal-clear detail and color was very abundant.
He began to walk as he studied his surroundings, admiring the place. It seemed as if he had dropped into a Secret Garden. Sparkling water gushed forth from fountains placed around strategic locations and weeping willows lent their fragrance to the gentle breeze. Cherry blossom trees were scattered here and there and their soft pink petals danced with the wind.
A pebbled path led him deeper and deeper into the large clearing and it was as if his feet were carrying him forward. In
the distance, he heard the sound of tinkling laughter and light conversation, and though he couldn't make out the words, the feel of genuine cheer that came from those sounds comforted him. He made his way there eagerly, and his eyes widened when he burst into the alcove.
It was undoubtedly the Asian Representatives. His eyes widened even more as he observed them. Sakura was sitting on a swing, being pushed by a grinning Li. Meilin was tending to a flowering bush, the golden bangles on her wrists clinking together as she watered the flowers. Tomoyo was reading silently near a large tree, her skirts spread around her, while Eriol was conversing with a couple of faerie-looking creatures that Harry recognized as flower sprites.
It was amazing. He had no doubt that what he was seeing was a small portion of a day in their lives, and he felt a little humbled at the experience. He was witnessing them at their best. His heart was light in here. Surely this was their past, for their faces did not yet have the shadows that he sometimes saw across their expressions. Here was purity... here was joy... and he didn't ever want to leave.
But then everything turned dark.
When Harry opened his eyes, everything had changed.
Sakura and her friends were still there, but they weren't in a garden anymore. The memory had shifted, and he was inside an immense room, the walls covered with engraved unrecognizable symbols. Huge, thick pillars supported the room, and the ceiling stretched high above them. A few muffled screams pounded against the closed, ornate wooden door, and it was so hot... so fucking hot.
He whirled around and was blown away by the difference in his new acquaintances' appearances. There were no traces of the smiling, cheerful group that he has admired earlier. Instead, he was looking at five battle-hardened individuals. Sakura was dressed in simple white, but there was nothing simple about the staff that she wielded. It was silver and stood taller than her, a golden star and white wings adorning its top. Li was holding a heavy sword expertly, his strange green robes fluttering around him as he stared intently at the door. Eriol, he was shocked to see, was floating several feet up from the floor without help of a broom, a staff in his hands as well. Meilin was near the side, and the bangles that Harry had seen her wearing were glowing with a strong ruby-red light. Tomoyo was the most active of the five, for her hands were up and spread. When he looked more closely, he saw that the dragon bracelets at her wrists were glowing a dark purple, and the walls echoed that light.
They were not the gentle teenagers that he had met. No, they were fighters. No mercy, no mistakes.
"Eriol!" Tomoyo shouted from below. "My shields won't hold up for so long!"
Sakura, whose face was pale, looked back at her with haunted eyes. "Take them down, Tomoyo-chan."
"What?!" Meilin exclaimed.
"Sakura's right, Daidouji. We have no need for shields anymore." Li said. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword.
"He is coming."
They all shuddered simultaneously, and Tomoyo lowered her hands in defeat. The purple glow around the walls dissipated, and they all focused their eyes on the double doors.
Still, inspite of the knowledge that something terrible was coming, Harry couldn't stop himself from jumping when the doors banged open.
And he almost failed to stop his gagging reflex when a decapitated body went sailing through the doors, splattering blood everywhere.
Meilin blanched noticeably. "Syaoran... that's--that's Auntie Hua!"
Syaoran closed his eyes tightly, before opening them again. "Focus on the fight, Meilin."
But the doors had opened their vision into a one-of-a-kind nightmare. Blood was running on the floor like the waters of a spring. Harry vomited as he spied a squalling infant get impaled straight through the heart by a monstrous creature the size of a hippogriff. It had scaly green skin and a huge quantity of jagged, rotting teeth.
A screaming woman ran past, and they all paled when she was hit by a blood-red ball of light. Immediately, her skin began to bubble and she writhed in pain, screaming...screaming as her skin dropped straight away from her bones, her clothes burning away and her hair blackening as the acidic spell continued its damage. She was still screaming when a second, purple ball hit her straight in the head, her body exploding in a gruesome mix of bodily fluids and black flesh.
"Come out!" Sakura shrieked suddenly. "Come out, you BASTARD!"
Harry stared at her in shock. Perhaps it was because it was the first time that he had heard the usually gentle female curse, or maybe it was the sheer fury that radiated from her trembling form. Whatever it was, he was suddenly frightened. It was only a memory, he was certain. But the bone-deep fear that flooded him didn't seem to understand that.
It only worsened when He made His entrance.
There had been a time when Harry believed that there was nothing more terrible than Voldemort. And if one based the Dark Lord's looks against the villain that was strolling nonchalantly past the wooden doors towards them, Voldemort was clearly several spots higher in the ugliness factor.
However...
The person...no, creature walking towards them had a terrible kind of ethereal beauty. His hair was an unusual silver and his skin was pale, shadows of the flickering flames dancing along it. He would have looked like a normal boy of Harry's age, if not for his eyes... and his smile. The bloody hue of those hard orbs weren't that of a normal person's, and his smile was demonic, hinting of dark things... evil things.
And when he spoke, it turned their blood to ice.
"Excellent, excellent!" He smiled coldly. "You are all here..."
"Just as you wanted," Eriol spoke. There was a new hardness in his dark blue eyes now, one that Harry hadn't seen before.
"Yes. I must say, that is exactly how I wanted it," he whispered in deep pleasure. Then if possible, his eyes heated up even more when they fell on Sakura's still, tense form. "CardMistress..."
"Thanatos..." she hissed in reply.
The boy laughed, the hood falling back from his face as he threw back his head in mirth. "My dearest CardMistress, why so much venom? One would think you are not pleased to see me..."
Harry was horrified when the one they called Thanatos started walking forward. Syaoran tensed, while Eriol dropped down swiftly from the rafters, but Sakura was apparently fed up as well. He was no more than a mere five feet from her when, with a vicious snarl contorting her face, Sakura raised her one free hand and made a wide, sweeping gesture. Thanatos was blown straight back, his body slamming against the far wall.
But then he stood up with no damage at all.
"So vicious, CardMistress," he observed with a wicked smile. He flung one hand to his side and in it materialized a black staff as tall as him, a revolving silver orb on its tip. "You wouldn't possibly mind if I retaliated, would you?"
Without waiting for a reply, he jabbed his staff at them. Immediately, the floor broke, a wave of red static heading directly towards Meilin and Tomoyo. The amethyst-eyed girl immediately raised her hands and a dome of purple light exploded outwards to shield them, stopping the crackling lash of dark energy. Meilin looked positively furious, and she flung her arms out as well. Immediately, a ball of electricity erupted from her hands, speeding towards Thanatos.
He barely dodged it and it went past, singing the tips of his robes, although from the smile on his face, one would understand that he wasn't at all perturbed by the brilliant display of power. He looked so calm, so unworried, that Harry wanted to punch the smirk out of his face.
The next second, Li did just that when, appearing out of nowhere, he jumped up and slammed his knee straight into the enemy's face. Harry winced at the sickening sound of bone crushing against cartilage as Thanatos staggered back.
"You FOOL!" He screeched, and that was when all hell broke loose.
The creatures that were terrorizing the people outside flooded into the room, as if Thanatos had summoned them with some unseen signal.
Snarling and roaring, they swarmed inside, heading straight towards the outnumbered five.
Eyes wide, Harry watched as five were decimated within seconds by a ball of black light from Eriol's hand. With a simple sidestep, he avoided the claws of another who had tried to creep up to him unexpectedly, slamming the blunt end of his staff against its face, successfully crushing its skull. It dropped to the floor, twitching, and was finished off when Eriol conjured a dagger and impaled its heart. Blood fountained up, but Eriol paid it no mind for he was already making his way to his next set of targets.
Blinking, Harry spied Syaoran in the corner. The Chinese boy was a whirlwind of swift and lethal movements, and he was demolishing a small army of the creatures without too much effort. But upon a closer look, Harry found that it was not so. His green robes were dirtied and torn, and blood was beginning to pool on the area around his right thigh, were the horned tail of one of the creatures had caught him. Still, he kept on fighting, shifting between hands and feet, to his sword, to bursts of magical energy that were intensely powerful that the hairs on the back of Harry's neck rose.
Meilin did a backflip which separated her from most of her attackers. Crouching down, she made a small flick of her wrist, and, extending it, palm open towards her opponents, she took a deep breath and blew. Big black bubbles floated away from her, and for a moment, the creatures stared at it in disbelief and mild annoyance. One even gave a snorting laugh at the seemingly pathetic gesture.
They weren't laughing when, upon contact with their skin, the bubbles began to explode one by one with enough force to blow off their appendages easily.
Blood and gore spattered every which way, and at the end of the fight, when none of the creatures were left, all the remaining combatants were breathing hard.
And that was when Harry noticed Sakura and Thanatos.
With a shout of anger, he watched as Sakura was blasted off her feet by a wave of dark energy from the other's staff. It would have been enough to render a normal, full-grown man uncoscious, but Sakura was far from normal, and, twisting in midair and landing on her feet in a crouch, she slammed the star on the tip of her staff onto the floor. Immediately, a wall of ice began to rise from the floor, knocking Thanatos back by several paces.
The battle was as bloody and brutal as anything that Harry had seen, but as it progressed, Sakura steadily gained the upper hand. With a particularly powerful burst of silver energy, she lifted Thanatos off his feet and slammed him down again on the unforgiving marble floor. The crack of bone was very, very audible, but only Harry winced.
Looking out the door, he could understand why Syaoran and the others seemed to be hardened. It was no puzzle to figure out that those people out there had been their friends, their family. And to see them die in such unmerciful conditions...
But then, Thanatos stood up. His robes were stained with blood, charred in several spots, and his silky silver hair was disheveled. But the manic gleam of his eyes hadn't disappeared.
"You have become stronger, CardMistress. And you have powerful friends..." Then the malevolence of his expression became even more pronounced. "But you are no match for me..."
A black glow came from his body, then erupted instantly. Syaoran was blasted straight off his feet and with a bone-cracking thud, he slammed on to the opposite wall. He slid down, dazed, and he fell onto his hands and knees, coughing up blood.
Tomoyo tried to set up a shield to protect them, while Eriol tried to reinforce it, but the dark lash of magical energy broke through their defenses and a gash appeared on her cheek as it passed, her robes tearing up as she dropped to the ground from the onslaught of power. Eriol was hit straight on the head trying to defend her, and his spectacles cracked as he dropped unconscious.
Meilin was lifted straight off her feet, and she skidded backwards and away from Sakura by several feet. Her arm was at an unnatural angle, obviously broken, and blood was soaking through her shirt.
But by far, Sakura was the worst. Instead of flinging her away, the dark power was holding her captive as it raised her up several feet into the air, twitching and struggling. Harry thought that was all, but then Thanatos flicked his hand, and it was as if an electrical surge hit Sakura. A bloodcurdling scream escaped her lips and her head snapped back as she writhed in pain. This continued for several seconds, before Thanatos lowered his hand with a smile.
Smiling cruelly, he snapped his fingers. Immediately, from the door entered the last of the creatures. But he was not alone. He was in possession of a weakly struggling man, and Harry stared in horror as he saw them.
"Otou-san!" Sakura cried out.
Harry's heart broke. The limited Japanese that he had learned while at Sakura's presence was enough to let him know that the man was Sakura's father. And the state that the man was in was enough to make anybody cry. The creature's claws were protruding from the man's stomach, soaking his shirt a dark, deep red. Both his arms were broken, and the tendons of his ankles had been cut. Nevertheless, the man's eyes widened in pained recognition at her daughter. "S-Saku--ra.." he rasped out.
"Otou-san!"
"What a lovely reunion, hm?" Thanatos asked wickedly as he walked over to where Sakura was hovering, unshed tears shining in her eyes. Carefully manipulating her binds, he lowered her down. She was a head shorter than him, so her feet were still inches off the ground when she was lowered enough to meet his cruel gaze at eye level.
"Don't you see, CardMistress?" He leaned closer, one hand lifting to tangle in her still fragrant hair, while the other cupped her cheek. His warm breath tickled her ear when he spoke. "Everyone suffers..." Then he lifted his eyes to stare straight into hers. "Because of you." Then he made a gesture, and Sakura screamed as she watched the creature rip her father's heart out. Blood splattered on the floor and she kept screaming. It only stopped when Thanatos, with a laugh of pure, sadistic pleasure, lowered his head to claim her lips in a searing, violent kiss.
Harry saw the furious rage and bloodlust that entered Syaoran's eyes as he reared up, not noticing his own injuries. He needn't have bothered.
Sakura had reached her limit.
She threw back her head, and with a scream of pure hate, the silver glow around her exploded.
On second thought, Harry changed his mind dazedly as he closed his eyes, the whole world had exploded.
When he regained consciousness, the next thing he saw was a sobbing Sakura nestled within Syaoran's arms. "He's gone, Sakura. He's gone... Hush, Ying-Fa. He's dead."
"Otou-san...Otou-san!" Sakura kept sobbing brokenheartedly.
Harry felt tears streaming down his cheeks as well, and he wanted to comfort her, but as suddenly as everything, his surroundings turned black.
He was unnerved by the quick change, until he looked to the side and saw people.
"Draco?" He asked in disbelief, staring at the Slytherin who looked like a fallen angel. The normally pale skin of the Malfoy heir seemed even more luminescent and his eyes were haunted.
"Hadrian?" Draco broke out of his trance. Then he looked around. "Ren? Jason?"
"What are you guys doing here?" Harry asked in confusion.
"I don't--" Jason swallowed. He looked a little unnerved as well. "Did you guys see that as well?"
"Sakura?" Ren asked quietly. "Yes, I did."
"So did I."
"Me too."
They were about to speak more, when suddenly, their surroundings shifted and they dropped into a dungeon room.
"What the--!" Malfoy swore.
They were in a different room this time, a darker one. A thousand candles flickered along the cold stone walls, and hooded figures were bowing to a hooded figure sitting atop a throne.
"Are those DeathEaters?" Ren gasped out.
"Yeah," Harry choked out. "Yeah, they are."
He spied a dark-haired woman near the throne, and nearly choked again in his fury. "I can see Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry gritted out. "And Peter Pettigrew."
"You know them?" Draco asked in surprise.
"We've met." Harry replied shortly.
"Wait a minute... Pettigrew?" Ren asked, his European accent pushing through because of the tension. "Wasn't he declared a casualty of the aftermaths of the First War by your Ministry?"
Harry responded by calling Fudge a very uncomplimentary name and a few muttered expletives.
Suddenly, the oily voice of Lucius Malfoy echoed from the chamber.
"My Lord, has the merging been successful?"
Dark, cruel laughter erupted from the figure sitting on the throne. Nagini, Voldemort's humongous snake, broke out of her coil to slither around the throne. "Yes, you good for nothing fool. It worked!"
The four students shuddered simultaneously when the figure pushed back his hood and silver hair was uncovered.
"Thanatos..." Jason whispered.
"He's merged with Voldemort?"
"Oh My God..." Ren whispered.
They froze when the blood-red eyes zeroed in on their location.
"I can see you, you know..." Voldemort, or Thanatos said wickedly. "Tell my darling CardMistress, that I'm coming... that I'm coming for her..."
And then they knew no more.
Author's Notes: Alright, folks! That's the end of this chapter. You have to admit, it's a bit longer than usual. I didn't intend for it to drag on that much, but I hope it wasn't as boring as I think it is.
People, I might have answered back during the first chapters that Fujitaka and Touya were alive. Well, Touya is. But quite obviously, Sakura's father isn't. Sorry for that!
Also, I really don't know when I'm going to update next. Things are really hectic for me. See how long it took me to finish this chapter alone! But I hope you guys don't lose interest.
Thank you once again to all my faithful reviewers! I love you guys!
Random Info: I've just finished the Hunter X Hunter Greed Island Series.... and it rocked! Gon and Killua are the best! smiles
Anyways, that's about it. Til next time, everyone!
And REVIEW!!!!