AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I completely forgot about the first part of this chapter. Elodie is from my other Tom Riddle stories... and I suppose this story is a sequel, of sorts. Anyway. Just in case you were lost.
Everything was shimmering. Voldemort glanced down at his hands, and noted that his eyes could barely focus on the spider-like digits. Something strange was happening; something he couldn't control, and that frustrated him beyond belief. The man was the type of person who always had to be in control of every little detail of his life.
Things were going... decently. They had the two Malfoy daughters, Turny and Snape's wife locked up in the castle, and were waiting for the next move from the Order.
It wouldn't take long, and he could be sure their attack would be in massive numbers, considering they just had to rescue the inmates.
However, they would be easily dealt with, and then he could set onto bigger goals...
Like finally buying his beachfront house in the Bahamas, a guilty fantasy he had had for years now. Shaking his head, he forced himself to come out of his thoughts and into the reality of here and now. The irony of that sentence nearly killed him right then and there, and he couldn't help but ponder where here was, to be exact. It had to be a dream, because this was not real. Potter wasn't strong enough to control his dreams, though there were numerous occasions where they were linked.
But this wasn't one of them. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep, exhausted from dealing with incompetent servants all day. Now, he was here... wherever that was.
"You look well, Tom."
He froze on the spot; that voice... The alluring feminine one that had taunted him for years, right up to her death. Even after that, he was still haunted by it. Her laughter. Her screams. Her fiery temper. Everything.
"Hello, Elodie. I had no idea the dead could still sway my dreams."
"I take it as a personal achievement," she chuckled, slowly coming into view as she walked toward him. Nothing had changed since he last saw her; hair long and white, swept back into a curly bun. Her cheeks were a little wrinkled, though age hadn't taken too much of a toll on her lovely facial features. She had put on a little weight, but what woman didn't when they passed forty?
"We've never done this before," he commented, a little surprised at this meeting. It was so out of the blue, a turn he had never expected. His body stiffened when she came into full view, though once again he couldn't explain why.
Lovely, Tom, lovely.
Bloody HELL, that voice! He had gotten rid of it years ago... Perhaps just shortly after Elodie passed away, sharing a death with her beloved husband Edward. Old age was the cause, according to the papers.
"I've never thought about dropping in, actually," she mused, an aged hand reaching out to touch him. He backed away instinctively, his lip curling out of disgust, and horror. This wasn't real - his imagination was playing tricks on him again.
"We've watched my little boy grow," Elodie informed him. "I'm sure you know who he is... My darling grandson?"
"Yes, we have a bloody history," he snarled, groping around in his pocket for his wand, which was conveniently not there. "What does this have to do with anything? Why are we here?"
"Does it scare you to be trapped in a dream, Tom?" she asked softly, her eyes flashing with a hint of anger. "You know, like the ones you put Harry in... Is it strange to taste the bitter sweet tang of your own medicine?"
"Mad in life, and mad in death I see," he snorted, finally relaxing when he realized what she was doing. Elodie Potter was toying with him, most likely wanting to put him through the ropes for hurting her grandson so much over the past... twenty, thirty years? He couldn't even keep count anymore, really.
Harry Potter had ceased being his biggest threat once Dumbledore passed away, and that seemed like eons ago.
"I'm not mad, Tom, and I never have been," she said curtly, tilting her head to the side as she studied him, her voice echoing oddly through the dream-like world he had been shoved into. "I didn't bring you here just because of Harry."
"Oh?" Voldemort laughed, his own voice still piercing and cold, the tones bringing delight to his ears each time he spoke, "Then please... inform me why I'm here so I can get some rest. I have a lot of ... issues to take care of when I wake up."
"So I've noticed," she agreed, nodding her head at him a little, her eyes twinkling faintly. "Let them go."
"What?"
"The children you have locked away in your Charms room," she said bluntly. "They haven't done anything worth imprisonment."
"Oh, I have to disagree, Kitten," he replied, the old pet name rolling off his tongue before he could stop himself. "The boy betrayed me, as did the girl. They deserve death, by most wizarding laws."
"Don't be ridiculous, Tom... I wouldn't call that treason," she snapped, and Voldemort raised his slim eyebrows as the entire white glowing bubble he was in shook violently. Was it controlled by her emotions? But... She was dead. How was this working?
"What would you call it?"
"Love."
"Love?" he sneered, repeating the word with a sense that it had scalded him, "You really are mad-"
"Have you forgotten what love is like, Tom?"
Dumb girl, Tom, dumb girl.
Yes she was- Shut up! He glared angrily up toward his forehead, and then grimaced, "Love is not something that I know, nor do I ever want to know, Elodie."
She was silent for a minute, and he wondered if he had struck a nerve.
Oh, what was he thinking, the dead couldn't feel! Rolling his eyes, he waited for her response. The woman before him clasped her hands together, and then finally sighed, "So you really do belong here... You're dead inside, Tom."
"I've been so close to death I can taste it," he snarled. "It's still on my lips... However, I am not dead yet."
"You are..." she whispered, and his heart felt a sudden pang of longing. It was strange, this feeling, seeing as he didn't even remember the last time he had felt like this. It must have been her, the old sensations she brought up. They were there when she was alive, all the time, and only made sense that they happened in her death.
"I won't let the children go," he said finally, shattering another quiet moment the pair were sharing. "No matter what you say, Kitten... They are staying with me at the castle."
Her beautiful eyes clouded with sadness, which was so much more noticeable now that she was in his dreams, "I'm sorry, Tom... I tried."
"Yes, yes you did."
Taking a small step away from him, Elodie Potter forced a weak smile, "I'll come for you when you pass on... It's difficult to find your way when you do it alone."
"When I... Elodie, I don't plan on dying anytime-"
"Soon? Yes... It'll be soon."
"Elodie-"
"Good bye, Tom... Please, save your soul, while you still can."
Everything started to go blurry again, and his eyesight was darkening. Releasing a snarl, he rushed blindly toward her figure, reaching out in the growing darkness to find her, calling her name thunderously, yet receiving no answer.
In a minute, it was over, and he was laying in his large bed back at Hogwarts. There was a thin sheet of sweat covering his body, and as he sat up, his head ached horrifically. Placing a hand on his forehead, his eyes darted over toward the clock, reading three thirty and groaning loudly before flopping back down on his mattress.
While some people found it easy to sleep, Annie Malfoy could not. She was frightened, and had tossed and turned all night. Eloise and Will were cuddled up together on the larger desk near the window. Well, Eloise had fallen asleep, and then Will went and lay down with her, which horrified Annie. Honestly, why would anyone want to sleep like that?
They were... touching.
But, no matter how hard she tried, sleep would not overtake her. There were occasions where she would sort of drift out, but then there would be voice from the outside hall, or the sound of a rat scampering across the room, and she would wake up completely, alone and scared in the dark room.
She had no idea how they were going to go home. Why were they here, anyway? She didn't remember doing anything wrong, or anything that would offend someone.
So why on Earth couldn't they leave?
Sighing, she sat up on the floor, rocking her small body back and forth as she curled her legs up and into her chest, a small hint of comfort that she so desperately needed. She wanted to be with her father, and Aunt Hermione. Maybe even her mother... whom she hadn't heard from in far too long.
The door suddenly opened softly, and a burly figure stepped in. Her eyes were used to the dark, so she could see that he was the one from earlier... The one who had brought her here. He had something clutched in his hand, but it was behind his back, so it was a little difficult to see.
He walked through the rows of desks, seeming as though he was checking for something, and then paused when he saw her sitting up on the floor. Clearing his throat, he said her name softly.
"Hello," she muttered meekly. "Who are you?"
He refrained from answering for a moment, and then said, "You... Well, you can call me D."
"Just D?" she asked, a frown touching her youthful face, "Don't you have a real name?"
"I do... I just don't like it."
"Oh."
As softly as he could, he climbed over the desks and walked toward her, "Where is your sister?"
"Asleep."
"Right then..." he trailed off, suddenly sounding as though he was uncomfortable, "I... er, have something for you."
"For me?" she squealed, instantly excited at the chance to be receiving a gift, "What is it? Can I see?"
He scratched his curly hair, and then took a seat in front of her, pulling out a stuffed white bear from behind his back, "I... you know, thought you may... need it, or something."
She giggled loudly and eagerly accepted the toy, always happy to have someone dote on her, even if she wasn't too sure why. The bear had extremely soft fur, and adorable little eyes. Without a second though, she hugged it to her body, inhaling its scent deeply. There was no distinct name that came to mind with the smell, and she figured it didn't really matter.
"Do you... like it?"
"Yeah!" she trilled, holding the bear out and walking it across the floor, "He's so fuzzy and cute!"
Once again D's voice sounded strained, but Annie paid little attention to it, "You're welcome, I guess."
Annie twirled it around, picturing him dancing on a ballroom floor, and then paused, glancing up at the man, "How come you gave me a bear?"
"Well... I..."
He never had the chance to finish his sentence. In the background, Annie heard the distinct sounds of her sister waking up, and as the little girl glanced over her shoulder, she noticed she was quite right. In a moment, Eloise was awake and off the desk, her eyes wide to take in as much light as she could in the darkness.
"Get away from her!"
"Look, Loo!" Annie squeaked, turning around and holding up the bear for her to see proudly, "D got me a bear!"
"What's going on?" Will inquired groggily, sitting up on the desk behind Eloise, his eyes suddenly narrowing when they spotted D on the floor, "You-"
"Oh, go back to sleep, Marishka," D snapped at Will, pushing himself to his feet and glaring at the pair, "I wasn't doing anything bad to her... So, you may just wanna go ahead and keep those nasty thoughts roped back in your brains."
"Get out of here," Eloise ordered shakily, sweeping down and roughly pulling Annie away, dragging her across the floor. Discontent, the little girl slapped her hands away, "No! He's nice... Can't he stay?"
Why wouldn't they let him stay? He gave her a present! Anyone who gave her a real present should have been allowed to hang around for a little while longer.
"No, I seem to have... angered the beast, Annie," D informed her, a sarcasm in his voice that she was far too young to understand completely. "So I think I'll take my leave."
"You do that," Eloise growled, kneeling down behind Annie and holding her close, her eyes glowering at the adult as he bowed dramatically, and then swept out of the room, his footsteps still heard as he rushed down the hall and away.
"I liked him," Annie informed her sibling, irritated that Eloise had sent him away. "You were mean."
"What have we told you about taking things from strangers?" the older girl exclaimed wearily, snatching up the bear, which earned her a cry in protest from Annie. Will slowly swung his legs over the desk, and then slid up behind Eloise, his eyes on her lovely new bear.
"Give him back!" Annie whined, jumping to her feet and grabbing at the bear's legs wildly. Eloise made a face at her, and then turned away, checking the bear over for something... something that could have hurt Annie, perhaps? Bah, she had no idea.
"Doesn't appear to have anything wrong with it," her sister said finally, looking up at Will for some reassurance. "Do you think they've put it in here to listen to us?"
"There are less obvious ways to do that," he chuckled, taking the bear away and handing it back down to Annie, who snatched it and held it to her chest possessively. "Maybe he was just trying to be nice..."
"Or win her over."
"Mmm."
Eloise turned back to Annie, and then leaned down a little, fixing her hair, "Look, just don't talk to him again, okay? He's still a bad man."
"But-"
"He is, Annie."
The little girl wrinkled her nose at her sister as she turned around to get back on the desk. How could he be bad? He was so... nice. To Annie, anyway. He had that sardonic edge that her Grandfather had. Maybe that was why she didn't see anything wrong with it.
Much to her surprise, Eloise climbed back onto the desk and cuddled right back up to Will, even though hours earlier she had been furious with him.
Bah, teenagers were so hard to understand. Sighing, Annie made herself comfortable on the floor (well, as comfortable as one could be on the floor.), and then hugged her new toy tightly, sleep finally taking over.
fSeverus sat outside of the meeting room, on the floor, his head in his hands. They hadn't let him inside, but that was probably a good thing. He was far too emotional at the moment to be trusted with making decisions on their next course of action. Everyone was in one room, deciding how to rescue Ginny. How to rescue Annie and Eloise. And... Well, how to keep Draco from killing Will on sight.
Draco also was forbidden into meetings, as he was also a miserable wreck when the letter from Voldemort arrived the night before. His ears were still ringing with the sounds of Ginny's anguish, and he had barely slept at all. Nightmares kept coming out of nowhere whenever he tried, so why bother trying?
His godson was hauled up in his room with Hermione. The poor woman was forced to skive off the meeting to keep him from hurting himself, as he had taken up the habit of trying to beat the snot out of the cement walls encasing his room. Stupid? Yes. Surprising? No.
He still wished he could have been included in the meeting; he wanted to have an active voice when it came to the retrieval of his beloved wife. However, he knew there were countless other individuals, the majority from her extensive family, that also had her best interests in mind, so that managed to make him slightly less worried.
The attack needed to happen soon. Much to everyone's shock, most of the inmates had returned after only a few days with their families, ready and able to fight Voldemort. Even if they weren't as skilled as a lot of the Death Eaters, at least they would have strength in numbers. And that alone would be enough to slowly start reclaiming what Voldemort had taken.
He prayed that they managed to do it before the Dark Lord killed Ginny... He wasn't too sure if his old heart could stand another loss in his life.
"Severus?"
He looked up slowly, noticing that Arthur Weasley had left the room, a grim expression on his freshly shaven face, "Hello, Arthur... How are things proceeding?"
"We're finalizing plans for an invasion this evening," the redhead informed him, taking a few steps toward his seated figure, and then leaning back against the wall. "My boys are out of their minds... Molly was frantic this morning. Nightmares..."
"I had them too," Severus admitted weakly, figuring that Ginny's adoring family would be distressed with losing her so quickly. "What are we doing to get her back?"
His new companion slid down the wall, and actually ended up sitting beside him, much to his surprise. Arthur drew in a weary breath, "A small team of us is going to hit the castle, while the rest take on Hogsmeade... I volunteered, as did Lucius and Lupin. Most of the original Order members are up for it. Hagrid knows the grounds, and Moody can use his eye..."
"I will be involved with that," Severus stated, not taking no for an answer. "I want my wife back."
"And I want my only daughter back home," Arthur insisted, his blue eyes turning over to Severus. "She's the only one I've got, Severus..."
It must have been so difficult for Arthur Weasley. Imprisoned all these years, and missing his daughter's wedding... and now that he is finally a free man again, she was taken away.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," Severus muttered weakly, his dark orbs still glued to the ground, "I know you love her very much."
There was a stiff silence, until, "As do you."
"Yes, I do."
Well. This was awkward.
Severus shifted around a little, and then finally tore his gaze up to Arthur, "We'll get her back... alive. Knowing her captors, she will be hurt. Traumatized even, but we'll get her back."
"Sounds reassuring."
"You and I both know there is no point in sugar coating it, Arthur."
"Sometimes things need to be sugar coated," Arthur chuckled, his voice exceedingly strained. "While we're here, perhaps we should talk about Ginny."
Wonderful.
"Is it really necessary, Arthur?" Severus demanded impatiently, not really wanting to discuss his wife with her father. The man shot him an equally annoyed look, and then cleared his throat, "Quite, actually. I still don't know anything about your lives."
"Well, what is there to know?"
"Any thoughts for children?"
Of course. Bloody Hell, they were all alike. It seemed as though the only purpose for the Weasleys at all was to reproduce.
"We've been discussing it lately, but I fear I'm far too old to have a child now," Severus explained tightly, noting the flash of anger in Arthur's eyes. "Ginny spends ample amounts of time with the Malfoy children, though I know she wants them."
"Understandable, I suppose."
"Hmm."
The forced tone of Arthur's voice was evident, though Severus was pretty sure his was equally tensed. The corridors were quite dim, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Most of Azkaban was dark, even if the sun was shining brilliantly outdoors. There weren't a lot of windows to allow to light in, which was quite depressing for most of the people that had to live inside.
And it wasn't just the Order members living at Azkaban. Inmates with nowhere else to go, or nothing left out of their outside life also remained in the old building, living in the large areas, and charming things into beds inside the cells, whose doors were permanently removed.
"Is she happy?"
"Yes," Severus answered without a doubt. His skills in Occlumency came in handy when trying to read his wife, and his probing had proved that Ginny was happily in love with him, and quite satisfied with their married life. "Ginny does get testy with me, as does Molly I'm sure... and we do fight. But we are like every other married couple out there, with good days and bad."
"Do you keep her chained to the house?"
"No."
"Have you ever?"
Severus paused, "In the first few months, when Voldemort ordered it, she wasn't allowed to go anywhere unless I was present."
"Ah."
"I had to obey Voldemort... He arranged our marriage, after all."
Arthur made a face, "Why you and Ginny?"
"Despite him being... well, him," Severus surmised, trying to think of the best way to explain what he knew, "he actually likes Ginny. She annoys him to death, but he likes that she is strong. At that point in time, after she had been kidnapped, he thought I was lonely, and simply gave her to me as a... gift. Neither of us were happy with the state of things, but we got used to it in time."
He didn't really seem pleased with Snape's answer, but there was nothing he could really do to change that. The pair fell into an ominous silence, the faint grumbles of people from the meeting room barely heard through the stony walls.
Severus swallowed thickly, and then mumbled, "I love her very much."
And with that, he rose to his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and began pacing down the dark hallways, trying to pass the time alone.
"Oh, Ginny? Where are you, love?"
Ginny winced as Dean's songlike voice rang out through the Hogwarts passage, and she tore off down a staircase, nearly tripping over her own feet at the bottom.
He was playing a game with her. A twisted, demented game, in which if she could find an exit that she could get through, she was free to leave. However, most of the windows had been boarded up the night before, and the doors were locked. So, frantically, she was on the run from the man she once knew as Dean Thomas, her heart pounding whenever he playfully called for her.
She was wandless and basically defenseless against him. He had gotten so much stronger than she had expected, and his spellwork was just... out of this world. Not as good as her husband's, but still pretty damn good. There was a need in her gut to find Eloise and Annie, and make sure nothing horrific had happened to them, but that was becoming increasingly difficult as Dean put her through the ropes.
Coming to a screeching halt at one of the intersections, she peered around the corners, the soles of her bare feet aching from all the running she had been doing for the past hour and a bit. Heavy breathing was suddenly heard from behind her, and she let out a shrill scream when Dean slipped his arm around her waist, spinning her around and thrusting her face first into the wall, his mouth next to her ear.
"Look at that," he leered, lips tickling the shell of her ear, "I found you."
"Get off me, Dean!" she ordered sharply, elbowing back against him, only stilling when she felt his wand press against the base of her neck. His laughter was so hateful, so crude, "Be nice, Ginny... I can be nice, too, you know."
"You're sick-"
"A notion we all generally agree on there, Pippy Longstocking."
Dean let out a soft growl, and turned her around, revealing a man she knew as D, and nothing more. He had a rather grim look on his face, and seemed to be frustrated with something.
"What crawled up your arse and died, D?" Dean snapped, his hand curving around her hips and pinching, "I'm just having a little fun. How did last night go?"
Last night?
"Not quite as planned," D remarked, rolling his eyes, "Barbie threw me out."
Barbie? Eloise! Her eyes widened, "What did you do to her, you sick-"
"I'm not the sick one here, okay muffin?" D stated with a hint of amusement, "The freak holding you is sicker than I am."
"I..."
"Besides, D was in there to see his baby girl," Dean sneered, his lips once again pressed to the side of her face, his breath hot. "He's not the kind of guy that samples from his own gene pool."
Ginny's face blanched, "Baby girl... I... What?"
"Didn't D tell you?" Dean inquired, clearly amused by the vacant expression on the other man's face, "Annie is his daughter."
