Oh my wizard god! Exams are going to kill me you guys!

Also, I have officially decided to revise the first story, and rename it. Maybe it's because I'm picky, but it keeps bothering me.

Plus, I thought of a better plot line.

Anywhos, here's an informative and entertaining chapter!

Enjoy!

Achieving the Impossible

Parchment 26: Consequences

"What say you, Sella?" the man leaned down to her height, "You want daddy to teach you how to fight?" His hair was black, which was dramatic against his pale peach skin. His facial features were blurred, but his eyes were locked with hers. The green eyes looked different, happier; As if he lacked a care in the world. They existed in the past, a happier time, before this terrible war. She reached a hand to her wand, and stood herself in a dueling stance. "I'll get it right this time, for sure!" she exclaimed. He simply laughed at her, putting himself in a dueling stance as well, "Always daddy's little girl," he replied, "Aren't you?"

She would give anything, even her life, to go back to this time. When things were simpler, when fighting was nothing but playing to her. Back when she was only pretending to be a soldier. Those moments, when it was just her and her dad, pretending to be locked in combat. It was kinder, to be beaten by someone you loved, rather than someone you despised. At least then, after the battling, there was always a hand to help her up. She never had to help herself up.

Her eyes opened, heavy from her lack of energy. She was sprawled out on her side, strung across the gravel like a rag doll. She could feel the cuts and scratches filling in with blood, clotting for protection from the unsanitary world outside. The air was cold, and bit at the raw skin on her scrapes. She did not move, not even to lift herself off the ground. Lixella just lay there, her eyes fixated on her left arm; Which was sprawled out in front of her. That cursed skull and snake, slithering and twitching around on her skin; As if it owned a part of her. Her eyes moved to her right arm, draped over her side. The word, "LIAR," was still carved into her flesh. The two of them made an excellent parallel, describing her life perfectly. She was living in hell, having to lie in order to stay there. That dark mark on her arm was a lie, it meant nothing to her. But, she would never be able to get rid of it. It was a part of her identity, no matter how false. Lixella was a death eater, forever stuck on that side of the fence. Her father was gone, again. He was running from her, because she wasn't strong enough. She couldn't beat him, she had failed. He must be so disappointed in her, for choosing this side. He must be so angry that she didn't come with him; Even though he has spent the last year, running from fear, just to see her.

"Lixella?" asked the voice of her uncle Zander. She turned her eyes to him, but not her head. She did not want to avert her attention from the wicked truth on her arms. Not to mention, she was far too scuffed up to want to move. He put a hand on her shoulder, "I know," he nodded. It was good, at least, to have someone that understood her current pain. "But," he said in a low voice, "He is, at least, alive." She felt empty, as if the compassion had just been sucked out of her. Only apathy remained. Nothing but muggy, emotionless apathy.

She had nearly killed her own father. She had almost raised her wand at him, to take his life. She had almost taken someone's life, someone she cared about. The worst part was that, in that short moment, she had convinced herself that it was okay. She had twisted her own speech, and thought, around until they made her action a good one. How could she have done that? How could she have thought that it was alright to murder her own father? She had never contemplated killing anything before. Who was she? What was she?

Uncle Zander helped her to her feet. She was quite happy to not be wearing her usual Christmas attire of dresses and heels. Had she been wearing heels, she would have fallen over from how much her head was spinning. She looked around, it seemed that she wasn't the only one who got thrown to the ground. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Bellatrix came rushing across the pathway. She grabbed Lixella's shirt, gripping it tight, and stared at her with mad dark eyes. "How did they get out?" she sneered, almost spitting in Lixella's face. Lixella just stared at her, blinking. "How did he escape?" Bellatrix almost shouted.

"I don't know," Lixella stated, shaking her head with attitude. How could Lixella possibly tell where they went? Why did Bellatrix insist on thinking that it was her fault? "Maybe they apparated away?" she asked.

"This entire estate is covered in disapparition charms," said Lucius, helping his wife off of the ground.

"Yes, how did they get out?" uncle Zander asked to no one in particular.

"Knowing William," said Snape, "He probably had a trick up his sleeve. He was always very good at wriggling his way out of trouble." For a moment, his eyes shot to Lixella. She did not understand this gesture, as she had never gotten in trouble with Snape. Though, she was her father's daughter, and several teachers at Lunareth would say the same about her.

"you had better hope the dark lord is in a sparing mood when he returns," said Bellatrix, still clinging to her collar. "Or else this could be a very un-merry Christmas" her eyes were slits, "for you."

"Why?" asked Lixella, equally as venomous, "Is it because you'll have to spend it watching me get punished? No, watching your lover torture me would be a great Christmas gift, wouldn't it?"

"Why you filthy little…"

"Bella!" shouted Narcissa, jerking her sister's arm down, "She's just a girl!"

Bella huffed, pouting at her sister. Her eyes shifted back to Lixella, full of hate, "Younger or not, she needs to learn where to keep that sharp tongue of hers."

"I rather agree with Bellatrix on this one, Narcissa," said Snape, "Perhaps she needs to learn to…keep quiet."

"There will be no punishing anyone," snapped Narcissa, "I think we've all had quite enough for one night."

Bellatrix turned around, and marched back inside, pouting all the way to the door. Lixella smirked, on the inside, as she watched the mad woman trot off. Her uncle nudged her, "Good one," he mouthed, giving her a wink. He very clearly missed his brother's sense of humor. Lixella figured that, for now, she could fill that space.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, and began blowing rapidly across the entrance. They all made their way back inside, but were stopped by a large black mass. It spun around rapidly, until the wind ceased and Voldemort stood before them. Lixella had almost forgotten that he had left in the first place. He certainly did not look very happy. His head shot in every direction, looking for something to take his anger out on. Lixella let out a sigh, and tried to not roll her eyes. She knew exactly what was coming.

"Where is he?" shouted Voldemort, darting his attention from person to person.

"He got away, my lord," said Snape.

"What?" shouted Voldemort, "How? Who let him loose?"

His attention shifted to Wormtail, who was cowering behind him. "You couldn't hold him still for two seconds?" It was terribly obvious how angry he was; But, he didn't seem to be angry at Lixella's father. She knew that he was just throwing a tantrum, because he failed to kill Harry once more.

"Wormtail did fall prey to one of William's escape acts," said Snape, "However, it was not his fault."

Lixella was going to kill Snape.

"The little banshee girl couldn't kill him, my lord," exclaimed Bellatrix, wanting revenge. "She just let him walk free," Lixella was going to murder Bellatrix, first chance she got.

"Ah yes," he turned to Lixella for the first time; As if she hadn't existed until now. "The dear loving daughter," he said in a voice as sleek as satin, "Daddy's little girl."

Here it comes, the punishment. Lixella could have laughed at his predictability. She braced herself for the next move, maybe even death. She, for the first time, did not care what he did to her. The spell hit her square in the stomach, and she went flying backwards. Several feet of ground passed below her, and she skidded across the gravel once more. "Next time I give you an order," he exclaimed, as she landed, "I expect you to follow it through."

She breathed a single breath of apathy, and the familiar feeling of torture shot through her nerves. It was sickening, the fact that he was taking his anger out on her. But, that was Voldemort; A whining bully, who beat up others when he didn't get his way. Lixella was so tired of this. She was tired of being someone's henchman. She was tired of being trapped in this tyranous dictatorship. She simply did not care about anything anymore.

Her screams subsided, and Voldemort stood over her. "I do not have time for failures, Lixella," he said, "Nor do I have time to keep chasing your traitor father." Ah, so there was more to this punishment. Lixella could almost guess it. "I will be putting this task in your hands now," he said, "It'll give some use to those banshees of yours. Since you have so many, I say you put them on the job. I don't like waiting, so be quick about it."

She had been correct. In order for Voldemort to not kill her, she would have to prove useful somehow. Therefore, he would make her use something she cared about, to punish her. The predictability was too much for her to even roll her eyes at. She did not bother trying to get up; The night sky was much more attractive than whatever Voldemort was saying. The gravel scratched against her raw cuts, and she could feel bruises being formed. Her muscles were aching for a more comforting ground to lay on, perhaps a mattress. It would be nice to just lay there, and never get up.

There was a muffled swishing noise, along with a rapid change in the wind. She suspected that Voldemort had just disapparated. Now would be a good time to get up. Lixella lifted herself from the rocky ground, and looked down at her legs. Needless to say, her clothes were ruined. She was a lot more scraped up than she had originally thought. Her legs were covered in blood speckled scratches; And, from what she could feel, her face was scratched as well.

She blinked a few times, trying to shoo away the dizziness in her head. Then, out of nowhere, something crashed into her. She was suddenly wrapped in a hug, a very tight hug, from Draco. Why was he hugging her? Of course, she had nearly died a few times tonight, and almost killed her own father. It was ridiculously comfortable, his hugging. He was a lot warmer than she was; Also, he wasn't covered in dirt and blood. Nonetheless, this was still rather odd. It seemed strange, having him hug her out of nowhere. "This is…er, weird," she said, without thinking.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Well, you don't have to apologize," she said, extremely confused by this weird mood that he was in. "It's not a bad thing…It's just, the sudden hugging seems a bit...er, out of character for you, don't you think?"

She was not sure why he was apologizing, there was nothing to apologize for. Wait, he was apologizing? Draco never apologized for anything. What was going on?

"a-are you okay?" she asked, sounding very worried for his health.

"Yeah," he nodded. His answer was more of a passing comment than an answer. He was not paying a scrap of attention to what she was saying. His eyes were fixated on the reddened scratches on her face. "That's the third time," he said, his voice trailed off; As if he was talking more to himself than to her. This was the third time that she'd been beaten by someone, and he had done nothing about it. He had made that promise, back in October, that he would keep her from getting wounded again. That he wouldn't let anything else hurt her that badly. So far, he had done nothing to keep that promise. It seemed like every time he looked at her, she was wounded, somehow.

He brought a hand to her forehead, and brushed away a smudge of dirt. "Why is it that you are always getting scratched up?" he asked, staring almost dazedly at the dried blood. He wanted to clean it all off. She looked strange when she was scratched up like this.

"Because I'm the one who can't keep quiet," she said with a tone of resentment. She knew the truth, "If I kept quiet I probably wouldn't have to deal with half of this crap."

"No," Draco shook his head, "You would still have to deal with all of this. You would just avoid the part where everyone tries to kill you."

"It would be a better idea to avoid that," she nodded, "wouldn't it?"

"You won't."

"True."

Lixella wasn't much for keeping quiet, that was obvious. Rebellion was second nature to her. If someone was going to try to take her down, she would not make it easy for them. Though, she could not deny that her situation would be easier to get through, if she could just stop speaking out. To her, staying quiet was agreeing, and Lixella did not agree with any of this. The only reason she was here, was because there were people here that needed her.

However, the one person that she needed the most, was on the other side. Her dad could be anywhere right now. How would she get the banshees to look for him? She couldn't just capture her own father, and drag him off to be killed. Voldemort would most likely make her kill him. She did not want that running through her mind again.

"Pretty twisted Christmas, huh?" said Draco, staring towards the front gate. He wanted to be anywhere else, anywhere but here.

"Yeah," sighed Lixella, looking in the same direction. There it was, the exit, sitting only a few yards away. She could do it, run away right now, and never come back. Her gaze shifted back to Draco, "pretty twisted."

Only a few days after the Christmas mess, Lixella set out to find the banshees. They usually stayed around abandoned buildings, and crypts. They had made their dwelling spot in the Cruxshade family crypt. It was much bigger than the Duskwood family cemetery, probably because the Cruxshades had lived in the same manor for more centuries. It was much more comfortable with the banshees. They seemed to have a completely separate life from the war. Considering that they weren't really involved in it. Lixella sat beneath one of the many large trees that surrounded the Crypt. She had been relaying the story of last night to the banshees, for the past hour. She told them about her father, how he was alive, and how Voldemort wanted her to kill him.

"How could anyone let this terrible man be in power?" asked Aileen.

"Aileen," said Cordellia, "Just because you and I died to rid our corner of the world from darkness, doesn't mean that all of the darkness in the world was extinguished."

"Yes, but," said Aileen, "how could anyone follow this man? I can understand the basilisk, that was a creature. This is a human being. Surely he must have some kind of compassion. Humans always have some kind of compassion."

"Not him," Lixella shook her head, "I don't know why he doesn't. He isn't exactly human."

The banshees stared at her in confusion. She proceeded to explain how Voldemort had come back to life, after being killed by Harry 16 years ago.

"But," said Aileen, "In order for anything to be resurrected, it must have a soul. How did he acquire a soul after being killed. Once someone is killed, the soul is ripped from their body. Then it either moves on, stays put, or it is taken by banshees. The only way he could exist here, is as a ghost."

"I don't know how he got a soul," said Lixella, "Nonetheless how he acquired his own soul again."

If there was anyone who understood resurrection and souls, it was the banshees and the Duskwoods. The history of both was wrapped in the study of resurrection. They knew that one thing was for sure. In order to come back to life as yourself, you had to have your own soul.

"There is a way," said Cordellia. Aileen and Lixella looked over to her with wide eyes. "It is old magic, very dark," she stared at the ground, "I came across it when I was human."

"How is it possible?" asked Aileen

"It's called a horcrux, I think," said Cordellia. "The point of it is to enclose a piece of your soul inside of it. It can be anything, even as simple as a locket." She motioned to the locket around Lixella's neck. "In order to create one, you have to split your soul up, by killing others."

"He's done plenty of that," said Lixella, "Trust me."

She stared out at the scenery, as Cordellia further explained horcruxs to Aileen. The two of them were as white as the snow that covered the ground. Lixella wondered if that was it, horcruxs. Perhaps that was how Voldemort kept himself alive. It seemed completely possible. If it was true then, with the number of people he has killed, he could have an endless supply of horcruxs.

"Who discovered this, Cordellia?" asked Aileen, in disbelief of this items existence.

Cordellia did not answer, but looked to the ground. "Well," she breathed, "he was a…a very twisted man. He was mad, wanting nothing but immortality. He was," she looked over to Lixella, "A very old relative of yours."

"What?" Lixella's heart skipped a beat.

"His name was Herpo," said Cordellia, "There are several family lines that can connect to his. He was positively obsessed with dark magic, and soul preservation. He was also one of the first parseltongues. A very interesting man, but very twisted."

"No," said Lixella, "There is no way that the Duskwoods could possibly have anything to do with him." Aileen and Cordellia stared at her in confusion, as if she was wrong. "The Duskwoods don't trace back to anyone named Herpo," she said, "I've read all of the family trees. I know all of the connections. There's no way tha…" Then, it hit her. Lixella thought Duskwood first, simply because of their obsession with souls and resurrection. But, she missed a very crucial part of that. The Duskwoods obsession was only because of the banshees. It wasn't her mother's side, because her father's side made so much more sense. Cruxshade, the perfect name. It literally stood for, "A shadowed soul". A soul that had been shrouded in darkness. A soul that a wizard as dark as Herpo would most likely have. How could she possibly have missed that? "Oh…" she breathed, "of course."

"It is a very dark place that your family comes from," said Aileen, "You especially. What with both of your families obsessions with souls."

"And, to think," said Cordellia, "that you, a product of such a terribly dark history, would turn out to be so opposite."

Lixella had a hard time believing her family tree, sometimes. The histories of both, were riddled with sinister things. Cruxshades were inventors. It was no wonder that a distant relative of hers would have invented something to conceal immortality in. She remembered reading through the family trees of the Cruxshades, left at her American home by her father. That name popped up, of her relative that discovered the cruciatus curse. She shuddered a bit, thinking of how terrible her family was.

"Now," said Cordellia, "Your father. You need for us to locate him?"

"Yes," said Lixella, shaking away her thoughts, "I need you all to look for him. I think he is traveling with Arthus, my cousin. Also, they seem to be with a few others, wearing red robes."

"Red robes?" asked Aileen, wide eyed.

"Yes, red," nodded Lixella, wondering why Aileen looked so surprised.

Aileen looked to Cordellia with a terrified expression. "you don't think?" she said

"Were there any symbols on these robes, Lixella?" Cordellia asked quickly.

"No," Lixella shook her head, "Why?"

The two banshees exchanged another glance. "Back before you were born," said Aileen, "There was a group of witches and wizards, they were hunters." Lixella's fance scrunched up, puzzled. What was a hunter?

"Their goal was to rid the world of anything dark," said Cordellia, "But, their definition of dark was much more than anyone else's. They were a terrible threat to the banshees."

"They were the ones who set the basilisk into the forest," Aileen chimed in, "They figured that they could kill two birds with one stone. If they got the basilisk in there, and had it take out all of the other creatures; Then, they could plague the whole place, and it would be 'pure'."

Again, the obsession of purity confused Lixella. She did not understand why everyone wanted to be so pure.

"They're a very old group of people," said Cordellia, "Very very secretive. I had thought that they were all dead."

"You said something about a symbol," said Lixella, "what's their symbol?"

"A pentagram," said Cordellia, shaking her head, "made of hawthorn branches."

"They're a terrible insult to that wonderful religion," scolded Aileen, "I hate when people misuse that symbol."

There was a blurred flash, like a snapshot in her mind. The feeling of choking, two men in red robes. An old fireplace, sitting next to a shimmering basin. A symbol, carved into the stone of the basin's holder. A star, encircled completely, and made of thorned branches. It lasted for only a second, and left so quickly that Lixella wasn't sure if she had imagined it or not.

"If these people have your father, Lixella," said Cordellia. Lixella snapped out of her strange daydream. "We must act quickly to get him out."

"Why would they want my dad?" asked Lixella, "I think he's only there because my cousin knows that he needs help."

"He's your father," said Aileen, "They must think that he can get you there."

"But, why would they wa…" she started.

"Don't you know who you are, Lixella?" asked Aileen, "You were me at one point. We shared the same body up until now." Lixella was still confused.

"They don't know that you have resurrected us, Lixella," said Cordellia.

"They must think that if they can get to you, and kill you," said Aileen, "Then that will prevent the Duskwood banshees from returning. Thus, causing another dark species to go extinct."

Lixella stared at the ground, "And they're using my father to lure me there."

"We have to help," said Aileen, suddenly turning to Cordellia.

"Aileen, if they catch us, they will not hold back, you know that," said Cordellia.

"We have gone up against them before, Cordellia," said Aileen. She searched her best friend's face for some kind of agreement. "This girl," she pointed to Lixella, "Has gone through so much for us. I know, I was there while it was happening. All that she wants is her father. Plus, we have grown in numbers, and we are strong." Cordellia looked down, unsure of what to say. "If anyone deserves our help," said Aileen, "It's Lixella. We owe her so much. We have to take these men down, no matter what."

Aileen sounded strong and tough. She had the perfect tone of a great leader.

"Alright," agreed Cordellia, "But, we will do things carefully. This is going to take some time."

Cordellia was the perfect first mate. She brought Aileen back down to earth, and grounded their plans, so they could succeed.

Lixella felt so appreciated. These two were going to help her save her father, even if it meant starting a war of their own. "Thank you," she said, standing up, and hugging them both, "This means so much to me."

OH MAH GAWD! So, you all kept asking about the men in red robes. Try to remember back to the prequel, with Arclese and Tidon. That should help!

thank you for reading, happy Thursday!

TheUsernameIWantedwasTaken: yes, Dean/Pie fic will happen! Definintely...In fact, I plan on having an absurd fanfic week, the first week of my summer vacation, where I will be writing one absurd slashfic everyday! Lixella's father is a bit of a twisted bloke! he's pretty mad, and rather confusing.

FeyFaerie: Those red robes...from chapter 2 of the first story. I really should have been more clear with that one, sorry. I hope this helped. Oh gosh I can't wait to write these wonderful fics!

Raine Amorial: Harry doesn't know Arthus. Though, in my mind, the two of them would get along very well.

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx: You always review with the same thing, thank you for always reviewing! I love reviews ^_^

DizzyPotter: DO NOT BLOW UP! you're gonna miss all of the good stuff! Poor little Lita, whatever shall she do? *spoilers dear, spoilers* Voldemort is a terrible bully, I'm convinced that it's because he has no nose. Without a nose, you can't smell cookies, or firewood...what's the point of life without the ability to sniff? Draco will get his apple, no need to worry. And, Bellatrix will...well I think I speak for everyone when I say that Molly Weasley is a bad ass!

Thanks for the reviews guys! See you all next chapter, when we get back to Hogwarts :D