Song for the moment: Arise by Flyleaf
TADA :D *dramatic fanfare* And now for the chapter you have all been waiting and dying for...well at least the chapter i have been waiting and dying to write XD Here questions shall be answered, lines draw and hopefully a little romance...kinda...if you squint and turn your head at a 173 degree angle ;p
BUT, I am actually very proud of myself for getting this done so quickly :) I literally spent three days spitting this baby out and ive got to say...i actually like it :) And i hope you will too :) If you have any burning questions and or comments please press the beautiful little button below and let them all out :D
OH i would also like to dedicate this to my best friend La Pequena Escorpion :) shes amazing. shes awesome. shes a dork XD but i love her just the same :)
But on to the story. To the war that is threatening to ruin young Melanie Strider's world :)
Melanie's POV
"Voldemort. His name is Voldemort. And if we allow him to win, we are all going to die."
Melanie felt as if the world had come to a screeching halt, time shattering and all smelling of acrid, smoldering rubber. Die? Die? What does he mean die? Like…die die? Cease to be, six feet under, worm food, die? Mel, being sheltered all her life, the entitled daughter of two wealthy doctors, couldn't even wrap her mind around the concept, couldn't even begin to comprehend how serious this newly revealed war was. And apparently neither could Lily.
"Whoa whoa wait! What? You must be joking! Die? This isn't some bloody James Bond movie!", Lily cried incredulously, her panic blatant under her thin mask of anger.
Rage and frustration rose in Padfoot, so potent and consuming it was visible in his burning, penetrating eyes. "Exactly! Which means we all could, and probably will, giving current events, die! Voldemort's power has grown exponentially over the last few years. Our man power has dwindled to almost nothing. For everyone one of us there's ten Slytherins and those numbers do not seem to be changing anytime so! It's only a matter time before Voldemort realizes how weak we truly are and moves to strike at England's heart: at Parliament. After that, he will rule over this country with an iron fist so constricting and horrible that it will put Hitler's Third Reich to shame!"
These ominous words seemed to echo and ricochet in Melanie's small bedroom, sharp deadly bullets that bounced off thin walls and rang back into the teenager's ears. The room grew colder, as if the words absorbed all warmth and life. Tension, fueled by fear and denial, snapped taunt between the two sides: Padfoot and Prongs imposing and steadfast on one side while Melanie and her friends were frozen solid in disbelief. Emotions welled in Melanie, a volatile cauldron that she couldn't even begin to describe. She wanted to slap Padfoot. Yell at him. Hurt him. Cling to and beg him to tell her this was all just a sick joke and laugh that barking laugh of his.
Suddenly, Remus, who had been silent since the dropping of this atomic bomb, stepped forward, his tall frame shaking, tremors running the length of his spine. "What…what you're talking about is…is impossible. England wouldn't let this…this…Voldemort achieve such a feat. Bloody hell, the world wouldn't! Our allies would never accept him as a leader. We'd go into the next World War before Parliament was overthrown.", he argued adamantly to which all Mel could do was nod stupidly in agreement, her brown hair falling into her eyes wide blue eyes. Rem was right. Something like this just can't happen in the shadows. People would find out, and quickly too. Even if these devils were working behind the scenes, they wouldn't prevail. They couldn't.
Padfoot smirked, a dark expression full of bitter irony and pity, as if he was privy to some humorless joke that they were not. "I'm sure antebellum Germany thought the same. And look where that led them: to be a scarred and divided nation, the countryside laid to waste and the cities full of poverty and pain, corruption and malice. The Berlin Wall only came down in the last thirty years for God's sake! And now, England is on the edge of the same inevitable chasm, only the population has its back turned to it this time, deluded by a false happiness that blankets their eyes and closes their ears. Voldemort is this generation's Danton and Robespierre rolled into one deformed and malevolent form. He has people everywhere in England, hidden like rats in the cracks of society, especially in places of power. When, because it is no longer a question of if, he does stage his coup d'etat, he will not be mentioned explicitly. He's too clever for that. Instead, he will have a pre-selected scapegoat that will burn once the dust has settled. But by then nothing will matter because all will be lost. So, make no mistake Miss Strider, we are at war, and we are losing. ", he said gravely, locking gazes with the increasingly trembling brunette, pinning her, trapping her.
And in those smoky hypnotizing eyes, Melanie saw his pain, his anguish and with them came every war image that had ever past before, blurring and meshing, tearing at her soul and heart as Prongs' words reverberated through her skull, the eerie soundtrack to the slideshow of horrors. "Pain. And death. And if we don't stop it soon, the whole city will fall to ruin. People will die in droves. The countryside will burn. And the England we all know and love will fall under the reign of a tyrant, a man that has the potential to be worse than all of the totalitarian dictators put together."
Flash. Cities burned to cinders, the skeletal remains of buildings charred black against a grey, ash filled sky, black memorials to the lives lost, to the screaming terrors that had occurred there. Flash. Countries decimated, the once lush and fertile green fields dead and lifeless, shapeless craters torn into the murdered ground, Mother Nature's very own gaping, festering wounds. Flash. Countless unknown figures, dirty and injured men, women, and children, faces twisted in varying forms of agony, grief carved deep into their expressions as their hands were uplifted towards the sky as if to scream "Why God why?".
Fear. Agony. Death. Words that swirled in her brain, a ceaseless hurricane that stabbed at Mel's psyche until suddenly it wasn't the blurred faces of strangers that danced before Mel's eyes. It was Lily's wide green lifeless gaze that stared up at her from a ditch, asking why, why, why. It was Remus' body that was contorted and misshapen on a filthy, flooded street. It was her parents burned remains that lay in the scorched and hollowed out shell that was once her house.
It were her screams of agony and clawed hands that tore at the sky, asking an absent God what she had done to deserve this.
The world suddenly tilted on its axis, her world flipped upside down, and as Mel stared upwards with glazed eyes she realized she was on the floor, her cracked ceiling taunting her from its superior position. "How…how did I get here?", she wondered idly but her brain was so throbbing and exhausted under the onslaught of realizations that it could not develop an answer.
"Melanie!"
"Mel?"
Remus' and Lily's simultaneous shouts seemed muffled and faraway, like she was submerged underwater, the syllables morphed and unrecognizable. Sluggishly, Mel watched as three blurred figures hovered over her, faceless in her daze, blurs of brown and red and honey. Then, the world was moving again and suddenly the floor wasn't so hard and unyielding. No, now it was soft and cushiony, welcoming even. Maybe she could sleep here and when she awoke this will all have been a horrible nightmare. Darkness began to seep into her vision. Yes, a nap sounded really nice right about now.
"Mel, can you hear me?" A cold phantom brush upon her cheek banished the steadily creeping shadows. Confused and indignant that the dark had gone away, Melanie blinked and suddenly green and amber dominated her vision, concern and anxiety shinning in their depths. "Melanie? Can you here us? It's Rem and Lily. Come on, wake up please."
Hearing the pleading and beseeching note, Melanie mentally shook herself, gradually pulling herself from the groggy recesses of her mind, clawing her way back to complete awareness slowly but surely. Finally emerging, the first thing she noticed was that she was lying on her bed, propped up against a towering stack of pillows, Remus and Lily kneeling on each side of her, resembling some perverse position of reverence. Blinking one last time to clear the opaque sheen over her eyes, Mel licked her lips and cracked opened her mouth to speak but was silenced as Lily shoved a glass of water at her.
"Drink." Green eyes bore into her own and coupled with her tone of voice, Mel knew there was no arguing.
"Thanks.", she rasped and curled her shaking fingers around the slick and damp glass. Once the initial drop of moisture graced her lips, Melanie felt as if she had been wandering in the desert for days, her mouth dry, her throat cracked and parched. She finished the drink in three gulps. Sated and feeling better now that the room had stopped spinning, Mel moved to set her glass down but as she did, the two other occupants of the room finally garnered her attention.
"Padfoot they aren't ready for this!", Prongs hissed, getting into his friend's face, scowling as he threw out his arm to gesture to Mel and her friends. "We shouldn't be doing this. McGonagall would kill us if she knew! And can you even imagine how disappointed Dumbledore will be? Rule number one: Never involve the public!"
The look the blue-grey eyed man sent his companion was a mixture of annoyance, aggravation and impatience. "Well its too late now! And don't pin this on me mate! They wanted to know the truth and here it is. We warned them it wasn't some bloody walk in the park. And now there's no going back. They already know of the war so they might as well hear the entirety of the situation. And when hasn't McGonagall wanted to kill us or Dumbledore been disappointed? This one is just another tally mark on the buggering list.", he finished, crossing his arms in defiant anger.
Rules and more names that made no sense to her. Mel felt as if she was on one of those carnival rides that spun in perpetual circles. How far could her world spiral downward until it crashed and shattered beyond repair? And more importantly,would she survive it?
Prongs' growled and spun away from his brother in arms, eyes flashing dangerously only to find Melanie awake and aware, the trio of ignorant kids staring at them in mixtures of fear and terror. His heated glare softened and then extinguished completely as he sighed and rubbed his face in fatigue. "Are you alright?", he finally sighed, directing his question at Mel. Startled at being addressed, all the brunette could do was nod slowly.
"Good…that's good.", he murmured, not knowing what else to say.
Silence then overtook the room, Padfoot stoically staring out the window, stubbornly ignoring the rest of them while Prong's rubbed at his neck in nervousness. Melanie felt her mind begin to wander again, delving deep into images and possibilities she'd rather not visit.
"Look Melanie,", Prongs abruptly began, causing all eyes to turn to him. "I…this…this was a mistake. We shouldn't have told you…any of this. And I know you blokes wanted to know the truth but…bloody hell I'm not good at this shite!You know...sometimes ignorance is bliss. I…"
But Mel cut him off before he could say more. "No! No please…I can take it. We can take it. Just…please…explain."
Even if this killed her…she realized she needed to know. Maybe…maybe she could help. "Oh shut up! If these blokes can't do anything what the bloody hell can you do?", her mind scoffed. Mel bit her lip and furrowed her brow. She didn't know exactly what she could do…but there had to be something. Anything.
Brown eyes met hers, searching for sincerity, analyzing her strength, dissecting her bravado. "Alright.", he said, after an endless, breathless moment. "But remember…"
"There's no such thing as faith and trust and pixie dust.", she joked, smiling wanly.
He chuckled without humor, so unlike his usual demeanor that it weighed heavily on Mel's heart. "No, no there isn't. But...okay, let's…let's do this I guess." He seemed at a loss for words, as if he didn't know how to proceed. "Uh…why don't…why don't you all get comfy. This will take awhile."
At the suggestion, Lily and Rem shifted off their legs so they were seated beside Melanie, their shoulders acting as pillars that supported her, that held her up, and used her for the same. But Mel couldn't help but feel grateful for their presence. If Lily and Rem were here…she could get through this.
Surveying them, Prongs moved forward and slowly sank unto the foot of the bed, gesturing to Padfoot who reluctantly followed suite. "I suppose the best place to start is at the beginning," he began at last, turning to meet their expectant gazes. "What do you know of English history? More specifically London?"
Ever the book worm, Remus beat them to the punch. "London, or Londinum as it was first named, was founded around the year 50 AD by the Romans after they had invaded England. However, ten years later it was burned to the ground in a series of rebellions. Over the next two centuries, Roman citizens came to and fro, the population topping off at about 45,000. Nothing of major importance occurred and in 407 AD, the last Roman left England. It was rebuilt but it lacked its former grandeur, only housing around ten thousand people. Then in 842, the Danes…"
"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold the phone mate! Bloody hell, I didn't mean to go back that far!", Prongs chuckled, holding up his hands to stop the boy's rambling, amusement dancing in his brown eyes.
Realizing what had happened, Rem flushed pink and he ducked his head in chagrin, honey hair swinging forward to hide his face. "Sorry." This usually happened when he was asked an academic question. It wasn't his fault though. Really, the lad was like a sponge, soaking up everything that he heard or saw. But the problem was the teenage population in London didn't find all of his knowledge as fascinating as Mel or Lily. I.e. he was picked on a lot. Mel reached down and squeezed his hand, silently telling him that she had enjoyed his impromptu history lesson.
"S'altight mate. Just…wow. I didn't even know that much." Prongs shook his head in…amazement instead of mocking. Well, that rose him up on notch on Mel's list.
"Prongs you don't know shite about history mate, so that's nothing new.", Padfoot taunted, finally giving his voice to the conversation, scoffing at his friend.
"I knew enough to pass the bloody exam!", Prongs returned, throwing a glance at his friend, his indignant tone ruined by a ghost of a smirk.
Padfoot barked a laugh, throwing back his head in mirth. "That's cuz we bloody cheated mate!"
An impish grin wormed its way onto the bespectacled boys face. "Oh yeah. That's right. But oi, that's initiative that is! We had to go through a lot to get those bloody answers! But anyways,", he said, turning back to the three bewildered teens. "Back to the topic. And for the sake of time, we'll start in the Middle Ages."
Remus' cheeks went a shade darker but he stayed silent.
"Ok, so if I remember it correctly,", Prongs began, screwing up his face in concentration. "It was William the Confessor that chartered London and began the building of the tower of London. In…"
"It was William the Conqueror, not Confessor.", Rem suddenly blurted, going white as the words left his lips. He didn't want to come off as a know-it-all, he just couldn't help himself, the need to correct the other boy was… overwhelming. But his innocent attempts to help more often than not ended up with taunts and jeers coming from his classmates.
Prongs' brow furrowed, confused but not upset at all at being corrected. "Confessor, Conqueror close enough. As Pads said, history, not my forte."
"You don't have a forte Prongs. Besides annoying the shite out of me and making McGonagall turn purple."
The boy ignored the serrated barb. "But anyways the important part here is that the Tower of London was constructed."
Melanie felt her brow furrow. "The Tower is important?" How could that be? The thing was just a tourist site.
"It's not now, but it was in the Middle Ages.", Padfoot interjected, shifting to sit Indian style, despite the grimace that flashed across his features. "It watched over London under the orders of William and served as a deterrent for crime. However, the most significant aspect was its concept."
Padfoot took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if he was about to dive into a deep lake, and he was savoring the last shreds of clean air. "When Civil War broke out in England, between the King and Parliament, the government was too consumed by internal affairs that they turned a blind eye to the problems of the nation. So, the people of London, not the elite because they didn't give a bugger, but more the poverty stricken, came together and a secret society was created to protect the people. A behind the scenes task force, so to speak."
"Wait are you implying that…a black op team was born?", Remus asked and Mel saw that there was sincere confusion in his honey eyes, spilling over into his face and expression. "I've never heard of such a society in English history."
"Of course you haven't.", Padfoot said flatly. "This information was never to be leaked and if it was, never to be believed. The Four Towers of London, as the society was named due to the fact it take four posts to make a house stand and so four to make a city flourish, was a myth , a legend, a bed time story to tell to little tykes to get them into bed. Nothing more and nothing less."
"But it wasn't a myth. It was the truth, hidden behind exaggeration and glory.", Melanie said sagely, pieces starting to click in her head. She could scarcely believe this, the idea truly sounding like a bed time story but the more she thought about it...the more plausible it seemed. To ensure the safety and survival of the people, the population would have banded together and worked to thrive.
Padfoot nodded and leaned back on his hands to get more comfortable. "But they were not very effective.", he continued. "A rag tag band of peasants and pariahs were not going to do much against swarms of thieves and criminals. However, when all seemed lost, salvation in the form of four rich families arrived."
"Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin: four people who were sick and disgusted at the state of the nation and sought to salvage what they could. They met with the Four Towers in secret and decided to fund their cause. But that wasn't enough, at least not for Godric Gryffindor."
Something akin to pride flashed in his brightening eyes and that same pride seemed to jump into Prongs' mouth as he picked up the narrative. "Gryffindor wanted to be part of the movement, not just some spectator from an elevated throne. He went down into the city, into the slums, giving out what he could, stopping what crime was there. And, not to be out done, the rest of them, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin soon followed his example. So great was their influence, so grand were their results, that the "leaders", the stronger men of the Four Towers, gave the four all authority. And soon after that, the four new revolutionaries met and poured over a map of London, their goal to divide the city up into equal sections. To better cover and protect. And once that had been done, slowly but surely, the Four Towers followed suite, diving amongst themselves."
"And that is where the war began?", Melanie guessed, watching as the pride that had been residing in his eyes slowly begin to disappear, eaten away by a shadow of darker emotions, a preamble to the darker upcoming events.
But Padfoot shook his head, black tendrils of hair falling into his face and Mel turned her attention back to him. "No. The war didn't start until recently. When we say the Towers began to divide, we don't mean under hostile means. What we mean is that instead of people feeling a part of the Towers, they related better to their sections of the city, their homes. They were proud to be the Warriors of the Western sector, or Soldiers of the South. And over time, with the founder's deeds becoming increasingly hyperbolized, the sectors gradually took on the names of their leaders: Gryffindors were in the West, Ravenclaw to the North, Hufflepuff to the South and Slytherin in the East. And as the sectors assimilated the name, they also adopted the founder's coat of arms. It was a sort of nationalism that spread through the society and everyone wanted a symbol to be recognized by."
Prongs reached into his shirt and pulled out something shiny, holding it away from his neck so as to catch the light in the room. On closer inspection, Mel saw it was a necklace: a gold piece with a roaring lion and a scarlet banner. An exact replica of the one Padfoot had given her, the chain still heavy around her own neck. Not sure why, she grasped her own necklace, leaning forward so as to compare it with Prongs', Lily and Remus not far behind. Upon seeing it, the brown haired boy eye's went wide, staring at the bauble in amazement. His astonished eyes flickered back to Padfoot only to find his friend carefully examining his nails as if they were the most important things in the world, paying the rest of them no mind. The boy smothered a smirk, gave himself a mental note to tease his friend about it later and turned back to the still analyzing teens. "Rings used to be common but they were too easily lost. So, necklaces and tattoos became the norm. This is the Gryffindor symbol: a lion for courage, scarlet for strength, and the words Semper Fortis to tie them together. Ravenclaw's is, you guessed it, a Raven with blue and bronze as its colors. Hufflepuff is a badger on yellow and black. And Slytherin, they're green snakes." His lips twisted in a sneer. "Fitting if you ask me."
Suddenly, Remus snapped his head up, comprehension clear on his face, as if he had just solved some great mystery. "That's why you couldn't be found in Barnet! They'd see the symbol!"
Prongs grinned, leaning back as he tucked away his chain. "Very good mate. That's exactly why, cuz unfortunately for us, we were deep in Slytherin territory. In the snake pit if you pardon the pun. If word got around that two blokes baring Gryffindor tats were in the hospital, Death Eaters would have been dispatched for sure and we would have been screwed."
Melanie's brow furrowed in a frown. "Death…Eaters? What are those? I thought there were only four…uh houses." she asked. Figures. Right when she was starting to understand some of this shite, they threw her for another loop.
"Ah…well I'm getting ahead of myself. Those gits don't come around for awhile. Back to the history.", Prongs said. "As I said before, a sort of peace lasted for centuries, each sector making sure their people were safe, each in harmony with the other. As the years past, the founders aged and died but their dream and work didn't. New leaders were elected and they faced their own problems. But when worst came to worst, the houses, for that's what the sectors had now deemed themselves, came together to work out the issues. The torch of unity and patriotism was passed on, bright and living, and it was good."
"But it wasn't.", Remus interrupted once more. The two veterans turned to face the meek boy, eyes sharp with intensity but he continued, his own eyes acute. "England still faced problems. The plague for one. More riots and wars for another. Where were these Towers then?", he accused.
Bitter acid seemed from Padfoot's smile and out of the corner of Mel's eye, she saw Rem's Adams Apple bob. "Hell is empty and all the devils are here.", Padfoot said and Mel recognized it as a quote from Shakespeare. "Just because there is a force that works against crime does not mean it can stop everything. It's like blowing out a candle as an inferno rages around you. One does what he can."
Here, he grew quiet and as Melanie watched, waiting and anticipating, the mood in the room shifted to something stifling, something less comfortable than it had been a moment ago. What the two men had previously told them was more or less a history, cut and dry facts, stories and events that had happened centuries ago. However, what Mel was about to hear next…this was personal. This was their secret. Their war. Their burden. And the weight of that burden became apparent when Prongs continued the story, his voice flat and dead, eyes glazed as he stared at a spot above Mel's head.
"As is the nature of man, for we are all greedy bastards, the leaders of the houses grew avaricious for power, wanting to dominate over the others. There were sparse skirmishes here and there along the time line of London but nothing too major. Until the 20th century."
"When the World Wars tore across the globe, London was once again thrown into shambles. The leaders of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were killed in WWII and with their deaths went the balance of power. The entirety of the Towers was completely out of sorts, tensions high, two houses scrambling around leaderless; it was a mess."
This was it. The suffocating air was coming to a head, the anger simmering in Padfoot's and Prong's tight posture and tighter eyes were an alarm, a warning of what was to come. This was where the war was to begin.
"In the 1950s, 1952 to be exact, at a meeting of the Towers, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stood up and outright accused Gryffindor and Slytherin of murdering their leaders as the latter two houses had always been more imposing, somehow stronger. But the accusation was ridiculous.", Padfoot spat, eyes bright with rage. "The two leaders had been killed in a German bombing, a tragic accident but not murder. However, paranoia was as contagious as a virus in those days and it spread as wild fire."
Another pause overtook the duo as they tried to reign in their anger and gather their thoughts. And Melanie found herself trying to do the same. Her mind was positively reeling with questions. How had all this happened, and no one any the wiser? And how had all of this boiled down to war?
"So angry and inconsolable were the two lesser houses that they actually declared secession from the Towers!", Prongs continued. "Can you believe the balls on those gits? Seriously! The roar of fury and indignation was deafening from what I hear."
"But fortunately,", Padfoot cut in before Prongs' could deviate from the topic. "Someone was their to stop them, to knock some sense into the idiots."
The pride that had slowly died away awoke with a vengeance in Padfoot's gaze, a spiraling fire, a beckoning light. "The man's name was Albus Dumbledore, a 20 year old Gryffindor with the mind of a genius. He managed to speak to all of the houses and brought them together to sign a truce. Evidence was soon found that the two leaders had died in the German bombings, not by foul play as had be said. Chagrined and humiliated, the two factious houses of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw signed the treaty and everyone left the meeting relatively unscathed. But the glass ball of disillusion that had been spinning precariously on an edge had slipped and fallen. Even if there was no out right war yet, any illusion of camaraderie had been cast aside. The sections that used to be tentative boundary lines now become invisible walls, barring and separating. There was distrust now, taking root in each house and those seeds grew into strangling vines in the 1970s."
With a world weary sigh, Padfoot shut his eyes, turning this face to the ceiling as if the next part was so difficult to relate, he couldn't do it while looking them in the eye. "In the late 1970s, a man came on the scene, no one's sure from where, but in the course of what seemed a night, he had assumed the Slytherin throne. Curious and bewildered, all four houses met together for the first time since the almost secession in '52. The man's name was Tom Marvolo Riddle, and surprisingly enough, he was a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin. Given the nature of the shady assumption of power, questions were asked, backgrounds checked, but in the end all seemed…kosher."
"It didn't stay that way though.", Mel deduced and when Prong's gave a curt shake of his head, her heart began to break. This would be the catalyst that was to ruin a city, a people, and the lives of these two young men.
"No, it didn't.", Padfoot went on, and abruptly he got up off the bed and began to pace the length of Mel's small room. The movement was violent, agitated, restless, like a lion trapped in a cage. "In 1980, a Slytherin…I can't even remember the bloke's name, but this bloke walked into Gryffindor territory, something that was not to be done ever since the 50s, strode right up to a Gryffindor that he had seen three years prior at the Towers summit, and shot him straight in the heart." He chuckled acrimoniously, stopping in front of the bed as he rubbed at his own chest absentmindedly. "The poor bastard was dead before he hit the street."
Melanie was appalled at such a revelation, her stomach roiling in disgust and the twin gasps of horror that emanated from either side of her said that Lily and Remus felt the same. This man had just been…killed…for no reason?
"W…why? Why was he k…killed?", Mel stuttered, the last word becoming lodged in her throat before it stumbled out, halting and pungent tasting.
Padfoot shrugged and sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Why is anyone killed? The Slytherin just felt like it. I'm sure there were other reasons, probably to initiate the war, maybe even a personal vendetta, but it all boiled down the nutter's desire to murder."
Bile rose in the back of Mel's throat but they weren't done yet. Even though these men had been so secretive before, so shut up and shut out it seemed that Mel had opened a long weakening dam. Words and feelings that had long been repressed, been stomped on, pushed down and nearly erased were now gushing from previously sown lips. They wanted to tell their story, wanted for their pain and tribulations to come to light. They had to get this out.
"As you can imagine, the Gryffindors were enraged. Tensions might have been high, but never had the houses done such an outright hostile acts against each other. To kill indiscriminately…it was unheard of amongst the Towers.", Prongs said, astonishment in his voice even though he probably had heard this story a million times. "Dumbledore, who was now the leader of the Gryffindors, immediately called another summit and when they were gathered he demanded to know why such an atrocity had occurred."
Suddenly, a rumbling noise tore through Mel's room and as she turned to locate it, Melanie realized it was Padfoot, the noise a guttural growl clawing its way out of his built chest. "And that snake bastard just calmly looked at Dumbledore and said that the Gryffindor deserved it. That we had all become lazy and pompous and that England was just the same. But he knew how to fix it he said and that wheels were already in motion. His plan was that from then on, all the houses would work under him, Lord Voldemort, narcissistic prick, naming himself a lord, and that he would usher in a new Era where England would once again be the superpower of the world.", he snarled. "What a load of fucking codswallop!"
His fury seemed contagious because suddenly Prongs was snarling right along with him. "And when the rest of the houses told him to basically piss off, because who in their bloody right mind would consent to shite like that, he announced that from that moment on, the Four Towers of London were no more. That he, as supreme leader of the Slytherins and soon of England, now declared war on the rest of us. If we should try and stop him from achieving his goal…it would be our lives to pay."
The words rang with finality."Our lives to pay." To live under such an ultimatum…Mel couldn't even fathom. But…how had people so young become involved? Surely…the Gryffindors did not recruit…children to fight this war? However, she didn't get the chance to ask as Padfoot steamrolled onward, fueled by hatred and wrath.
"So, the once proud and virtuous Towers of London, who had promised to protect and serve the people …we became nothing better than those asinine, daft gangs in America, being killed at random, arguing over imaginary line, sitting ducks in our own homes. Even if there was now a bigger evil to face, there was still too much history between the three remaining houses to work together properly.", Padfoot said fiercely. "Each house stood alone, all too stubborn and prideful to apologize or admit fault. So, in result, the generation before ours had to fight in the shadows, their sacrifices never acknowledged as lives were lost on all sides to keep the tyrant off his throne. And now…there's almost none of us left."
The last whispered admission was filled with so much emotion, the tone matching the abject hopelessness in his eyes, that Mel felt as if she was no longer on the grounded. She felt as if she was floating away, the world becoming fainter again. "Don't pass out again! Bugger it all! Don't pass out" But no matter how much she told herself so, the sensation that she was falling away could not be shaken.
Suddenly, a hand grabbled for her own, cold and clammy and as Mel slammed back to Earth, she turned to see Lily pallid and ashy, her eyes limpid gems of emerald in a sea of white. Certain that she looked the same, Mel squeezed the thin hand in her grasp, hoping to draw strength from her friend and maybe give some in return.
Again, Remus wasn't satisfied by the information given, he needed to know more, to know everything about the situation. "Wait, how much do the police and government know? They can't be completely ignorant. They have to be doing something."
Turning once again to the brain of the trio, Prongs answered his inquiry. "No, but they are so corrupt and infiltrated now that it doesn't matter. Slytherins are everywhere, in the media, in politics, and in the police, as you have already seen."
Padfoot gave Melanie an intense look and the image of the heavily scarred cop flashed in her mind.
"They know of us, of the houses that used to be the Towers, but the Slytherins are up there in places of power, whispering sweet lies of complacency in their ears and now their heads are too muddled to realize truth from untruths. The infiltrators fake police reports, say that some wild gang is the cause of the rise in homicides and make us out to be the bad guys.", Prongs continued.
"So its hopeless."
Lily, who hadn't uttered a single word since all this began, was trembling and scared, the antithesis to her usual fiery, ball buster self. She swallowed harshly and pressed on. "They're everywhere and there's no one to stop them. You blokes said it yourselves, it's only a matter of time.", she whispered.
Prongs' gaze softened, the chocolate orbs turning melted and gooey. Tentatively, for he already knew how volatile she was, he reached out and laid a comforting hand on her shaking knee. "I won't lie to you Lily. It doesn't look too good."
Lily closed her eyes and nodded, looking resigned and defeated already as her eyelashes grew moist. That floored Melanie because her best friend never showed weaknesses, never faltered or cried, always high energy and high maintenance. This…subdued Lily was something Mel knew she didn't like. Couldn't like. Couldn't deal with.
"But,", Prongs went on to say, swiping a bold yet gentle thumb under her eye. "But I promise you that we won't give up without a fight that will go down in the books. I swear right here and now to you that we won't throw in the towel until we've breathed our last."
"You shouldn't have to!", Mel suddenly exclaimed, no longer able to stay quite as sorrow and grief, and anger tore her apart, slashing her insides, twisting her guts. "You're only kids! You shouldn't have to die for this shite!"
Startled, Padfoot and Prongs turned to her and smiled thinly, grimly, identical looks of acrimony on their faces. "Melanie, Pads and I haven't been kids…hell in over a decade. This is the only life we know."
"That's my point! It's…it's unfair to ask so much of you.", she whispered, tears of her own brimming in sloshing, like a cup that was just too full.
An unreadable expression passed over Padfoot's face and he turned to look out the window. He was...uncomfortable with all the attention, the tears shed on his behalf, and so he tried to lighten the mood. "Well to be fair…Prongs and I volunteered.", he said and hastily went on to explain as looks of shock were directed at him.
"It's true. When Prongs and I turned sixteen, we were formally inducted into the Gryffindors but we had been working for them…since we were I think thirteen. Or maybe it was twelve. But either way, it had to be done. Voldemort had started recruiting teens in the 90s. The rest of the houses had to follow suite because the adults had a hard time…fighting off younger Slytherins."
"Younger Slytherins."
"Children you mean.", Melanie returned sardonically, her face twisting in disgust, the taste of it sharp at the back of her throat. But Padfoot and Prongs didn't even flinch at her behavior as they replied simultaneously.
"Yes."
Mel just couldn't take it…the unfairness of it all, the atrocities, the horror. It was just too much. Not knowing what she was doing, propelled by a burning fire in her torso, she disentangled herself from Lily and Remus and leaned forward until she was right in Padfoot's face, her eyes livid and infuriated despite the rapidly building tears. "And how many children have you killed Padfoot? How many kids have you left in dirty, cold, alleys to die alone and in pain?"
She heard Lily's muffled exclamation of surprise but she ignored it, the blood roaring through her ears drowning out all else. These men, boys, no matter how justified their actions were, blood was on their hands, saturating and tainting. No matter the excuses, the things they told themselves and others, their hands had seen war, seen death. Lungs had ceased to expand, hearts to beat, blood to pump, all because of their actions. They were murderers, bathed in the blood of their enemies. With a cause or not, that is what they were. And it made her sick to her stomach.
Padfoot's eyes, those living yet frozen gateways, hardened into leaden ice, barring her from his thoughts as his jaw set into a tightened scowl. "Don't accuse me of things you don't even understand Miss Strider."
"I don't have to be a genius to understand that you have murdered people. Probably since before your voice began to crack.", Melanie hissed. Silence met her words. Because it was true. It was all true.
"Mel! What are you doing? These blokes are the good guys!", Lily cried out, yanking Mel's left arm to face her, the expression of screamingly incredibility apparent on both Rem and Lily. "Why are you being so cold and…and heartless?"
"Because it's the truth Lily! They can't even deny it! They have killed people! Men, women, children, all shot, stabbed and burned! They're no different then the people that started all of this! From the Slytherins they claim to detest", she screamed, so many emotions running through her brain that she could scarcely breathe.
Crushing iron wrapped around her right wrist and suddenly Mel was wrenched forward, slamming harshly into a solid, warm, wall. "Don't you dare compare me to those slimy, evil bastards." Padfoot whispered slowly, purposefully, the words full of malice and hatred and something unreadable as they fanned over her face, misleading in their soft caresses. "I have never been like them." Melanie glared weakly and struggled to get away, away from his penetrating, fury filled eyes, his harsh angry breaths, and his bruising grip.
Away from the abject betrayal in his gaze and the guilt of what she had said.
"I…I..I.." She couldn't even formulate a sentence and the combination of fear, pain, guilt, regret and frustration finally forced tears from her eyes as she whimpered pathetically. The warm salty water made glistening trails down her cheeks, the crystalline droplets slipping into her mouth, tasty of salt and fear, the ones that didn't trailing further downward, skating off her chin as she stared deep into Padfoot's glaring eyes, her tiny frightened reflection staring back at her.
"Pads! Let her go mate! You're bloody hurting her!" At Prongs' irate exclamation, the human manacle on her wrist tightened to the point where Mel thought he was sincerely going to break her it, muscles and bone alike screaming in discomfort. But at the very last moment, Padfoot seemed to think better of it for he exhaled harshly and flung her arm back at her, moving off the bed in the same fierce movement. Melanie immediately drew the abused limb to her chest, rubbing it carefully to try and alleviate some of the pain, Lily and Remus fussing silently at her side as the red handprint already started to darken.
The still enraged male stared at her for an immeasurable moment, something flashing deep in his gaze before his mouth tightened into a severe line and he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, slamming the door with a bang behind him.
A hush settled over the room, unbreakable and suffocating. After a few seconds, however, Prongs sighed something to himself and stood up as well, casting Mel an apologetic glance before quickly following his best friend out of her room. When the door clicked shut, Melanie didn't move as Lily and Remus moved to kneel in front of her, gently taking hold of Mel's bruised wrist, the former berating the brunette and Padfoot while the latter rattled off medical facts. But Melanie wasn't listening to either of them.
All she could do was stare past her friends at her off white door, regret and pain and other things swirling through her. "What did I just do?", Mel couldn't help but think, remembering the pain and betrayal in Padfoot's eyes. "What did I do?"
So...was that as good as i thought it was or am i just disillusioned? o.o If you have any thing you want to tell me Please please please please please please...
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