A/N: Trigger warning in this chapter for sexual assault. It isn't graphic, but it is clear enough. The sections that include that are marked with an asterisk in case anyone needs to skip them.

~*~ALIBI

The Paths We Tread

Chapter 15:

The Fell Clutch of Circumstance

*Unknown

September 30, 1996

Severus bit back a pleased chuckle as he straightened up, calmly sipping his trousers and fixing his robes. Before him, the brunette woman also straightened, pulling her skirt back down with steady hands. He watched as she turned to look at him, her chocolate eyes vacant.

"Will that be all, Professor?" Emma asked sweetly. Her face was an emotionless mask, her dark brown ringlets frizzing around her head.

It was almost enough that he could pretend. Almost. But the older, lesser version of his vexing student still stood there, waiting patiently for instruction.

"Yes, thank you," Snape replied. "You are dismissed."

Emma smiled robotically and turned around, leaving the room without so much as a glance at either of the men in the room. One day… one day soon, her daughter would be just as pliable. One day, he would…

"Would you like another one, Professor?" a tense voice cut through his musings.

The dour Potions Master smirked as he looked across the room. Dan Granger was seated in a squashy armchair in the corner, placed with the perfect vantage point of the couch. The Muggle man was still, a half-drunk stout on the end table to his right.

But the male Granger's hand was clenched, white-knuckled, around the brew he was holding out in offer. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were anything but blank as he looked at Severus.

Clearly, Hermione had inherited her fire from her paternal line.

Severus smirked as he gazed back at the man whose wife he had just violated. "No, thank you, Dan," he said pleasantly. "I really must be going. Much to do."

"What a shame," Dan Granger muttered, and Severus's gaze sharpened.

The Curse was holding just fine on the female Granger, but this one… He shook his head, scowling to himself. Best not to take chances.

"Imperious," he whispered again, his wand trained on Dan Granger's face. He watched carefully as the spell sank into the other man's consciousness, as he relaxed back in the chair, his face slackening. Nodding to himself, Severus straightened his robes once more and headed for the foyer, spinning on his heel to Apparate from the home.

Just a few more weeks, and he would have his prize. Halloween was 31 days away.

Unknown

Dan Granger sat motionless in the armchair, his eyes fixed on the doorway where the son of a bitch had just disappeared. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to stand, to lift his arm, hell, to even open his mouth and speak. A little experimenting revealed he could move his fingers, but only barely. He clenched his hand around the arm of his chair, wishing he could scream.

He could hear Emma humming to herself happily as she bustled around in the kitchen, and he felt his fury surge again in his veins.

His Emma hated to cook. Never stepped foot in front of the stove unless she was handing him something. She didn't hum. She didn't wear skirts.

She didn't fucking break.

His fingers split open, blood staining the armchair where he had squeezed so hard that he'd broken the wooden frame.

He had trusted that man with his daughter.

Hermione was no damsel, no shrinking flower. Maybe she'd be alright. Heaven knew, she was stronger than that piece of work.

But so was Emma.

Angry tears prickled at the corners of his eyes as he sat there, frozen.

Maybe the others would figure out something was wrong. Pomfret – his wife had grown close with her. Or that Auror, the burly guy that had been checking in on them every couple days – Shack or something? Maybe they would know. The both of them had seemed to be good judges of character. Maybe they would protect her.

Day turned to night. Emma stopped puttering around in the kitchen and went up the stairs to bed, singing to herself.

Dan still couldn't move.

Please, God, he thought to himself, keep that man away from my little girl.

Little Hangleton Graveyard

Little Hangleton

England

Emmeline landed quietly behind the angel statue. The ground beneath her feet was slippery and she swore as she lost her footing, catching herself with a hand on the weeping angel's bent wing. Pulling herself upright, she looked around the graveyard with narrowed eyes. It was freezing out, but then again… it always was nowadays. You couldn't go two blocks without tripping over a Dementor in some parts.

If Moody were still around, he would have ripped them all a new one for checking out tips alone. But they were stretched thin, and no one was available right then but her and the twins. And things had been rather… frosty between herself and the pranksters since she had suggested their father had… well.

She shook her head, frowning. Florean was her uncle, of course she'd been upset!

"Ahem," a voice cut through her reverie, and Em jumped, grabbing wildly for her wand. She lit the tip and stared across the grass, letting out a relieved sigh when she saw who had startled her.

"Honestly," she muttered to herself as she shoved her wand back in her holster, "you could have told me you were coming, Charlie."

The other man smiled at her strangely, and Em felt a sudden chill go down her spine. The look on his face was serene, almost bored… completely out of place on Charlie's friendly, expressive features.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Around them, the air chilled, and Em's heart raced wildly as she watched her breath crystallize into vapor. Shadows began to move at the far reaches of the graveyard.

And the man wearing Charlie's face continued to smile at her calmly. And didn't speak.

It isn't him, she realized frantically. It's Polyjuice.

This is a trap.

"I want a taste," a guttural voice growled from behind her, and Em screamed as a hairy arm wrapped around her from behind. Sharp, claw-like nails dug into the soft flesh of her belly, and a pair of sharp teeth sank into her shoulder.

Emmeline screamed herself hoarse the man holding her up from behind ripped chunks of flesh apart with his teeth. Her tears froze on her cheeks as the temperature around them continued to plummet.

And Charlie's cheerful face watched impassively as she died.

Tonks Cottage

Sandalwood Bay, Scotland

October 5, 1996

"This is incredible, Mrs. Weasley," Hannah exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she worked through a steaming bowl of stew. The matron smiled at her, bouncing Emily on one knee as she watched the girls eat.

The weekly dinners at the Order safe-house had become a regular routine, one that Hannah looked forward to every week. It had been about a month since Mrs. Weasley had taken over for Sue's Auntie, stepping forward to take care of Emily while Hannah was at school and Auntie Amelia worked on… whatever she was working on. Immediately after taking Emily in, Mrs. Weasley had reached out to her and Sue, inviting them to come visit every weekend so they could see the little girl.

And so she could keep tabs on them, Ron had warned her, but Hannah didn't mind.

"I'm glad you like it," the Weasley matriarch said gently. "I'm happy to teach you the recipe – Ginny doesn't much like cooking." She shot a rueful look at her only daughter, who snorted and shook her head.

"Not all of us can be SuperMums," Ginny teased, a smile quirking at her lips. Hannah shot the other girl a look, then exchanged worried glances with Susan across the table.

Ginny's smile never seemed to reach her eyes anymore.

"Oui," Fleur agreed. "I 'ave tried zis recipe many times and cannot quite match ze taste. Beel always pretends, zou," she added with a slight smirk.

Molly chuckled and Sue shot Fleur a grin. The two girls had bonded over the last several weeks, and Hannah was glad. Sue tried to hide it, but she knew her best friend was wearied from her constant worrying over Hannah… and the war.

"I can't thank you enough for helping out with Emily, Mrs. Weasley," she murmured, a frown spreading across her face. "Auntie Amelia just had too much work, but you didn't have to step in like this."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Weasley shook her head, waving her free hand absently. In her lap, Emily muttered excitedly as a mobile of dragons and fairies spun above her head. "Children are such a joy at this age." Raising her voice slightly, she called over her shoulder at Fleur, who had moved across the room to add another log to the fire, "Isn't that right, Fleur?"

Hannah glanced at Ginny and Sue in confusion. Sue shrugged, but Ginny was watching Fleur like a hawk as her future sister-in-law straightened slowly. The part-Veela turned around and looked at Mrs. Weasley silently, her mouth set in a thin line.

The older woman smiled at her gently. "Have you told him yet?" she asked, and Hannah gasped as she caught up to the conversation. Sue was grinning, her eyes sparkling… but Ginny looked even more grim.

"Non," Fleur said quietly, shooting a glance at Ginny. "I am waiting unteel I am a beet furzer along."

Molly's eyes were misty as she nodded, but Hannah held back a tired sigh as she studied Ginny's face. Ron had mentioned in one of their late-night lake walks that his sister was getting more and more temperamental as the weeks wore on. She'd thought he was overreacting, but…

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said thickly. She reached out and clasped Fleur's hand, blinking back happy tears. "I'm glad someone at least is making time for happiness, even during such dark days."

The older woman looked at her daughter pointedly, and Hannah winced. Something flickered in Ginny's eyes, but to her credit, the younger girl said nothing.

"I am just trying to rest," Fleur agreed softly. The blonde woman sat back down gracefully, shooting the table a dazzling smile. "And keep Beel from worrying, since I am sleeping so much."

"You can't keep him from worrying, dear," Molly advised with a snort. "He gets that from me, I'm afraid."

"Mrs. Weasley?" Sue asked suddenly. "How did you and Mr. Weasley meet?" Hannah eyed her friend curiously, biting her lip. It wasn't like Sue to be a romantic.

The woman let out a happy sigh, eyes bright again as she smiled at Sue. "Oh, we were at Hogwarts together, dear," she said simply, and Ginny rolled her eyes, a slight smile on her face.

"Well, yes, but how did you start dating?" Sue pressed, and Mrs. Weasley chuckled. Hannah eyed the older woman curiously, and Fleur shot the woman an inquisitive glance.

"Well…" The older woman hesitated, brushing a curl back from Emily's face as she bounced the little girl. "Oh, bother. It was my fifth year, Arthur's sixth," she began. "I was dating a seventh year, Tiberius McClaggen. His nephew is one of the… well." She cleared her throat, eyes distant, and Ginny shot Hannah and Sue a meaningful look.

His nephew was Cormac McClaggen, one of the Marked students.

"Tiberius had started to be a bit… careless and cruel, and I decided to break it off with him," she explained. "I used to love Astronomy as a younger witch, and I spent quite a bit of time on the Astronomy Tower at night, stargazing. Only when no one was occupying it, of course," she added with a suprisingly wicked grin, and Hannah giggled. The Astronomy Tower had been a go-to spot for couples for quite some time.

"One night," Mrs. Weasley's voice went quiet, "I was on the tower and Tiberius showed up. We argued, and then he grabbed me and threw me against the wall and started to tear at my robes – "

She trailed off, clearing her throat, as Ginny looked at her sharply.

"And Arthur appeared out of nowhere, and blasted him clear off the tower," Mrs. Weasley finished, a shadowed look in her eyes. "I knew him from classes, of course, and he had a fondness for stargazing too, so sometimes, we would cross paths. But we weren't really friends at that point. I barely knew him."

"Everyone knew, though, that Arthur Weasley was a friendly, cheerful and easygoing wizard. He never yelled at anyone. Never got into fights or got detention. Model student, really," she added, her lips quirking in a grin. "Not like me. But to see him that night – he was so cold, so focused. He never hesitated."

Clearing her throat again, the woman refocused her gaze, looking at all the girls calmly. "The moment Tiberius was falling, Arthur just turned his back on him. Walked over to me and asked me if I was alright, took off his robes and wrapped them around me. By then, teachers had started to arrive, and I found out later that the Headmaster had caught Tiberius before he hit the ground." She coughed slightly. "Arthur was lucky he wasn't sent to Azkaban. They were able to justify it as defense of another, and he was sentenced to a year's community service."

A heavy silence fell over the room as the witches all processed the story. Hannah shook her head as she tried to picture the steady, friendly man coldly sending someone to his death. At sixteen. Their age.

Well, she supposed, I might have to do the same soon. Sue already has. She eyed her friend worriedly again.

"The McClaggens must have been furious," Sue whispered, and Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"Arthur and Tiberius have never managed to get along," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "The Ministry decided the ordeal was punishment enough, so Tiberius wasn't charged with anything. And after that, Arthur went back to being the friendly, mild-mannered boy everyone knew. The whole wizarding world assumed that he was afraid of his anger, and that that was why he was such a pushover."

Meeting her only daughter's eyes, Molly Weasley smiled. "But we know better, don't we?" she murmured, and Ginny simply nodded.

"Violence so young, it changes you," Mrs. Weasley continued. "That's why I just wish…"

Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat, eyes bright again. With a shake of her head, she reached down and picked up the baby spoon, coaxing Emily to eat some more stew.

Hannah coughed, glancing beseechingly at Fleur and Sue. The somber atmosphere was starting to wear on her, and Merlin…. Fleur shot the girl a gentle smile, and gently reached over and touched Mrs. Weasley's arm.

"Zis dinner was a wonderful idea."

Hannah nodded enthusiastically, sopping up some broth with a warm chunk of bread. She let out a quiet sigh of relief as Mrs. Weasley brightened, the room seeming to become cheery once again.

Ginny's mood didn't adjust, she noticed – the youngest Weasley sat perfectly still, staring down at the table.

But Hannah felt just a tiny bit better. Good food, a break from the constant training, patrols, classes, war preparation… She cleared her bowl and bit back a laugh when Mrs. Weasley brandished her wand, sending more stew spiraling into the bowl.

With so much heavy food in her, maybe she'd even be able to sleep that night.

"I just wish you could have gotten Hermione and Luna to join us, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said worriedly. "They both need a break."

"They're working," Ginny said tightly, not looking up from the table. The girl's hands were clenched around her spoon, knuckles white.

"Well, yes," the matron fussed. "But surely, someone else could – "

"Who else?" Ginny hissed. "Maybe you hadn't noticed, Mum, but we're running out of 'someone else's."

Moody's face flashed through Hannah's mind as Sue grimaced, and Mrs. Weasley's face turned red.

"Ginevra," the woman started, "I know you don't like to hear this, but you are still children, and – "

Here we go, Hannah thought with a sigh. They weren't going to escape a fight after all. Emily had started to whine, her big eyes filling with tears as the atmosphere grew tense. Standing quickly, she slipped across the room and scooped Emily up, clutching her baby sister to her chest. Mrs. Weasley let go without protest, still speaking.

" –someone has to – "

Fleur's lips were set in a thin line as she glanced over at Sue, who was eyeing Ginny nervously. The redheaded girl had gone completely still.

"What did you think, Mum?" Ginny cut in suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. Hannah shivered as the other girl's emotionless voice hit the air. Slowly, Ginny set down her spoon, looking up and pinning her mother with a cold stare. "That we could have a normal life? Finish school, get married, give you dozens of grandkids?" Scorn suddenly dripped from her voice and the younger girl scoffed, her eyes flashing. She stood smoothly, stepping back from the table and sliding in her chair.

"Normal died in the Department of Mysteries," she continued evenly, meeting her mother's stricken stare. "Hell, normal died in the Chamber. All we have LEFT is the fight."

Silence echoed in the room and Hannah rubbed her baby sister's back soothingly as the girl quietened. Mrs. Weasley was still staring at her only daughter, eyes wide and face mottled.

"Ginny, I – " the Weasley matriarch began, but Ginny was already shaking her head, shooting a rueful smile at her mother.

"I can't do this right now," the girl confessed. "I can't sit here and play happy families while the world burns. If that's what you want, Mum," she added, the bite coming back into her voice, "you should probably call Charlie or Fred. Fred would probably even wear a skirt for you."

Without another word, Ginny spun on her heel and strode to the fireplace. She was gone in a flash of smoke.

Hannah and Sue stared at each other, eyes wide, as Molly Weasley sat gazing sadly at the fireplace. With a quiet cough, Fleur got to her feet and swept from the room, Flooing out of the cottage without a word.

Mrs. Weasley broke down in tears, and Hannah rushed across the room to wrap her arms around the older woman as Sue scooped up Emily, watching with a soft frown.

The Fortress

Hirta Island, St. Kilna

Outer Hebrides, Scotland

Ginny landed roughly on her heeled boots, dirt and gravel flying through the air. She narrowed her eyes through the cloud of dust and fixed her gaze on the entrance to the Fortress, jaw clenched and shoulders ramrod straight.

She had shaken off Fleur at Shell Cottage and immediately set off for the island. She didn't want to talk about her feelings. All she wanted to do was hit something.

The weeks following their decision to drop out of classes had been among the most stressful of Ginny's life. Between learning to Apparate – a necessity at this point, her father had pointed out, and the others had agreed – researching with Luna, and setting the traps for the grounds, Ginny couldn't remember the last time she'd been still for more than four hours. She was exhausted. Her temper was fraying.

And they weren't even at the bad parts yet.

When she got back to the castle, she really needed to pay Vik another visit, see if he'd found anything yet from her blood sample. And check in on Hermione's treatment.

Something was off there, too, and she knew it. Hermione hadn't told them everything. She'd have to add it to her list. Above trying to figure out what unicorn blood had been used for, and what Rookwood was playing at, and –

She rubbed the back of one hand tiredly across her eyes, letting out a ragged sigh. She would have to apologize to Mum later.

She knew her mother, after all. While her Mum knew what she'd been through in the Chamber, she didn't really understand – how could she, after all? But the woman just refused to accept that her children were growing up, and had grown up fighting.

She'd lost her brothers, and apparently had her own scars, so Ginny supposed it made sense that her mother was terrified to let them fight. Ginny hadn't known about her mum's history with McClaggen, either. From Scrimgeour and Bones' reports from the Ministry before it collapsed, she knew the man was still alive. A month ago he had been, at least. Idly, she wondered which side he was really on. Maybe she'd get an excuse.

She was telling Ron. She was definitely telling Bill.

But she needed to apologize later.

Mind made up, Ginny nodded to herself and strode up the walk, her boots clicking on the stone as she crossed into the Fortress. Just inside the door, she practically ran into Harry, who stood with Deacon and Alex glaring at a seemingly random spot on the wall. Rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles, she grinned viciously as she joined them.

Halloween was in twenty six days.

Order Safehouse

Somewhere in Hampshire

Luna smiled serenely at the German, her eyes sparkling. "Thank you, Mr. Brand," she said in her quiet singsong as McGonagall stood stiffly beside her. The Transfiguration Professor snorted, her eyes fixed on the prisoner, and the German man smirked at her before smiling warmly at Luna.

"Always happy to help Pan's girl," the man said, grinning as McGonagall bristled. "If you run into any more trouble, you just come back and pay me another visit."

"I will," Luna said simply as the man's smile widened. She turned and skipped from the room, her eyes fixed on the fireplace.

Harry had given her a seemingly simple task, and yet. While Luna was easily able to communicate with the strange creatures of the world, she just couldn't seem to come up with anything that would be reliable enough to truly act as sentries for the school and the Fortress. The glow moths were wonderful for short term, but they tended to wander off after a short time. Aside from Celeste, of course – she always stayed with Luna.

Really, she couldn't blame them for wanting to go explore. The world was just so interesting.

If not for the blood drinking tendencies of Chupacabras, they would have been her next suggestion, but… She had asked Deacon, but the cursebreaker hadn't any suggestions. And truthfully, the man seemed oddly frightened of her.

She giggled at the thought as she stepped into the Floo, stepping out in Professor McGonagall's office. With a gentle smile, she thanked the Deputy Headmistress and skipped away to the third floor.

A smile and a kind word to the gargoyle had the sentry moving away, and Luna stood patiently on the spiral staircase as it wound slowly up to the Headmaster's office. She knocked once on the door and then eased into the room, slipping into a chair beside Hermione with a glance at the other girl.

Her friend seemed strained, eyes tired and hands shaking, as she sat at the large round table. Kingsley Shacklebolt sat on her left, Remus Lupin on her right, as she argued animatedly with Dumbledore. On the table before them, a large parchment was spread out, traces of black lines racing across the surface. They seemed to be almost vibrating, none of them staying in place for more than a moment.

"But if we use an object as the focus – " Hermione was saying, waving her hands as Dumbledore watched her indulgently.

"The charms simply aren't strong enough," the Headmaster disagreed. "No, this isn't the solution." The Headmaster's eyes twinkled slightly as he winked at Luna.

"Multiple objects?" Shacklebolt suggested, and Luna turned her gaze to the burly ex-Auror. The man glowed a deep sapphire blue, threads of gold light shooting through the aura. The cloudy haze still lingered around his head, and her eyes narrowed as she watched the man shift in his chair.

No, he wouldn't do. Neither would Dumbledore. His colors were too gray, Shacklebolt's too wrapped up in someone else. Turning to study Lupin, Luna smiled at the deep, steady amber that seemed to swirl around him.

Perhaps.

With a smile, she got to her feet and slipped back out of the room, none of the others saying anything to her as she departed. Hermione had told her that her habit of randomly joining groups and then leaving was strange, but Luna supposed she had gotten used to it.

Or maybe the other spell just hadn't worn off yet. She supposed it would be hard to speak with someone invisible if one didn't know the invisible person was there.

Moving swiftly through the halls, she emerged outside the Potions laboratory, opening the heavy door with a soft creak. Inside, Viktor was bent over roughly a dozen cauldrons, muttering angrily to himself in Bulgarian as he moved between the different concoctions. A heavy perfume hung in the air and Luna grimaced.

It smelled almost like tombstones.

"Not vis one," Krum was muttering to himself, vanishing the contents of a cauldron with an angry scowl. Luna settled carefully on the top of a nearby work table and began swinging her legs back and forth as she studied the other man.

She'd asked Hermione about him, especially after she had noticed how much time Ginny was spending talking with the man. He'd started with the Auror program right after the TriWizard Tournament, Hermione confided, but resigned after six months, saying the department was far too corrupt. "He wasn't sure who he was working for," Hermione had explained. Instead, still wanting to help the war efforts, he had found a Potions Master and trained under the man, quickly elevating through the ranks.

Which was remarkably wonderful timing, Luna thought to herself. Especially considering Severus Snape had decided to show his true colors.

Luna was fairly certain if she could see him right then, he'd be surrounded by a haze of a truly awful color.

Krum, however. He was surrounded by a deep, warm garnet, just a touch darker than the color of fresh blood. He and Lupin would complement well.

Decision made, Luna nodded to herself as she slipped down from the table and quietly left the room. She had a few others to check on – she needed to be sure – but she was off to a good start on her second project.

The others could worry about getting the Fortress set up and planning out the war. She had two jobs. Find a creature to act as sentry, and save her friends.

And Luna Lovegood was not going to fail at either one.

Hogwarts Battlements

"Maybe," Ron said with a frown. "But that would leave the east corner uncovered."

"If we do an inverted triangle pattern, though," Theo disagreed, his eyes narrowed as he stared across the battlements, "we would just have to layer it correctly."

Dean nodded as he sketched furiously on his sketch pad. Scratching absently at his ear, the other boy muttered, "It looks like we could delimit it like this." He gestured at the sketch, pointing to a couple small intersections he had created, "But you should probably get your brother up here, Ron."

Ron snorted, his mind on his eldest brother. "Better luck getting one of his teammates lately," he said with a sigh. The eldest Weasley son was rather difficult to track down the last couple weeks. No one had seen him but Harry.

"Just as well," Nott shrugged, and Ron glanced at the Slytherin teen.

He didn't want to admit it, but the guy was starting to grow on him. Ever since the rescue mission at the teen's ancestral home, Theo had been… helpful. Helpful, but not pushy. He'd shown up regularly to every DA meeting since Harry had agreed to let him in. He listened, he worked hard, and he even helped some of the younger years that were struggling. He volunteered for extra patrols – and offered to go with Neville, Sue, or Hannah – people he knew Ron trusted. He offered to help with anything they needed, but always waited for them to accept instead of just trying to force his way in.

Ron was beginning to think the Slytherin was genuine in his change of heart.

That's how they get you, Moody's gruff voice sounded in the back of his mind. You can't be betrayed by someone if you don't trust them at least a little, boy.

Ron shook his head to clear it, frowning at the other two as they gazed at him patiently.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Did we miss anything?"

Dean looked back down at his sketch, tracing carefully over all the lines with his wand. As his wand tip moved over the sketchbook, each line glowed, small puffs of colored smoke drifting up from the paper.

"I think this is a solid start," Dean said finally.

Start, Ron thought. Halloween is in twenty six days.

"Great," he said instead, grinning. "It's just about dinner time, so let's pack this in for now."

The other two nodded, Theo rolling up the map he'd been studying, Dean tucking his sketchpad into his bag. As they went down the stairs, Ron shot off a Patronus, sighing tiredly.

Getting Hermione to stop working and eat was becoming even more difficult than usual. Even Shack couldn't tear her away from her projects anymore.

But that girl would come down to the Great Hall or by Merlin, he would go get her and drag her there.

Quickly, he ran through everyone in his mind. Harry and Ginny were at the Fortress. Luna was – well, he had no idea, but she had sent him a message saying she was tracking some strange… something. Nev was off with the twins doing recon on the Wyvern again. And Sue had just checked in twenty minutes before; she and Hannah were still with his Mum.

Everyone was accounted for.

Pausing on the main staircase, he waited patiently as Dean and Theo continued on into the Hall. After a few moments, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and Hermione's characteristic annoyed huff. Ron smiled as he heard her mutter something under his breath, and Shack's quiet baritone responded.

Without turning around, he held out his arm, and Hermione scoffed but smiled as she tucked her hand through the crook of his elbow. Shack nodded to them once before sweeping past them down the stairs, and Ron listened as Hermione chattered about their latest project as he steered her down the stairs and to the Gryffindor table.

Halfway there, a commotion stopped them. Ron sighed wearily as he turned. He supposed it was only fitting – Malfoy had been oddly quiet so far that year.

"You were where you belonged," Malfoy was sneering at Dean, as the black Gryffindor stood side by side with Nott. "In the muck with all the other filth. It's too bad someone let you out, Thomas."

Hermione made an odd sound in the back of her throat, and Ron felt his ears turn red. Taking a step forward, he drew his wand, and he felt more than saw as Hermione did the same.

Nott rolled his eyes as Malfoy hit his stride. Really, six years of listening to the other boy posture was too much. He had always considered the boy a friend – mostly – but listening to him prattle on was…

"I'm sorry you're bored, Draco," he cut in suddenly, before Malfoy's commentary to Dean could become more vicious. "Might I suggest you take up a hobby? Something you'll be better at than insulting others. Your skill in that area is somewhat lacking."

Instantly, Draco spun around, pinning Theo with an angry glare. "Skill?" the other boy sneered. "You bloody poofter. Couldn't wait to throw your lot in with the mudbloods and blood traitors, could you? Is Gryffindor cock that good?"

Off to the side, he saw Hermione stiffen, glaring at Malfoy, and Ron raised an eyebrow.

Nott just laughed. "You're like an angry terrier, you know. Snapping at everyone and everything."

"I should tell your father," Malfoy continued as if he hadn't said a word. "I've kept your secret for years, but he should know that his son is a bloody – "

"Might as well," Theo agreed cheerfully. "He already knows I'm a 'blood traitor' now; maybe it's best to get everything out in the open."

Dean coughed as Ron's eyebrow rose impossibly higher. Hermione was grinning.

Malfoy stepped forward as the Hall fell silent. At the front, McGonagall and Shacklebolt were stepping down from the Head Table.

"I suppose it is that good, hmm?" Malfoy said silkily. "You know, it's too bad my dear Aunt Bella took out Moody. You and that crazy old Auror would have made a lovely – "

Theo heard a shout, then suddenly, he was standing over a prone Malfoy, breathing hard. He shook out his aching hand, wincing slightly as his knuckles began to swell. On the ground, the Malfoy heir was white-faced, blood gushing from his now crooked nose. Behind him, he heard Hermione chuckle, and McGonagall's disapproving tones echoed through the hall.

Taking a steadying breath, Theo looked down at his childhood friend. "Don't speak ill of your betters," he said softly.

And without another word, as the students excitedly whispered, he walked straight up to McGonagall. Behind him, Ron said with a frustrated groan, "I wanted to hit the blighter."

Munroe Flat

Manchester, England

Really, it would be so much easier to pack if she could stop crying.

Audrey sat on her bed, Midas's head resting on her knee. She combed her fingers through the pittie's short hair, leaning wearily against her headboard as she stared blankly at the wall.

It had been weeks since Percy's brother George had appeared in her flat, telling her stiffly that he had died. She hadn't known what to say – she had only known Percy for a handful of weeks, but the man had saved her life, had been kind to her… truthfully, she'd been starting to feel an attachment. An attraction, even, dulled and muted though it was through the horror of what was happening to her life. When George had spoken, she'd gone numb.

Hands in his pockets, the stocky redhead – really, he looked nothing like Percy – had told her it wasn't safe, that England was going to become dangerous, and she should go if she could. Percy would have wanted her to be safe. He'd left without a goodbye, and Audrey had spent most of her time since then in tears.

She'd had a normal life, once. One with an absent father, dud boyfriends and too many bills, exhausting hours and brunch with friends, dog parks and hiking trips and pub crawls. Not this. Not losing all of her patients, soul-sucking monsters, and zombies destroying a government that didn't even exist, killing her –

Her whatever-he-was. Whatever Percy could have been to her.

She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the book pendant at her neck, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. She couldn't explain why she was still wearing the thing – maybe out of respect for Missus Cassandra, maybe because it had saved her life – but she wasn't sure she'd ever take it off. She opened her eyes and stared suspiciously around the room, waiting to see a cloaked demon appear, a zombie burst through the door –

But nothing. She was alone.

She let out a shaky breath, shoved her hands in her hair, and nodded to herself. Time to stop stalling. She could hide in there forever, or she could go.

So she got to her feet, threw about a dozen changes of clothes in a suitcase, grabbed the couple little mementos she couldn't bear to lose, and snapped her fingers. Midas trotted along dutifully behind her, and she gathered up a few of his favorite toys, his lead, his food and dishes, and his doggy bed. Ten minutes later, they walked out of her flat, and Audrey Munroe headed straight for the airport.

England could rot for all she cared.

But sitting in the driver's seat, she frowned. People were in danger… and she knew why. Could she really just leave?

Her daddy had taught her better than that.

With a shaking hand, Audrey brushed her hair back from her eyes and nodded to herself. Mind made up, she smiled over at Midas.

"We're going to see the Colonel, Midas," she murmured, and the pittie wagged his tail excitedly.

Shifting into drive, Audrey turned the car in the direction of her father's base.

Somewhere in the Rocky Mountains

Colorado, United States

"Well, fuck, Arthur, it's not my fault every damn tree looks the same!" Rufus growled, his tawny eyes narrowed as they peered around the summit.

Arthur frowned, shoving his thinning hair back. "It was somewhere near here. I can feel it."

"Yeah?" the other man replied. "You going to tell me what 'it' is, yet?"

Arthur ignored him. Rufus sighed tiredly.

It had been a bloody long day, taking an International Portkey then making four – no, five – bloody Apparition jumps before they had arrived back in the spot where Arthur had stashed whatever the fuck dangerous artifact he had. Why the fuck he wanted it back all of a sudden, Rufus had no idea. Hadn't Arthur told him to go get it only if he died?

"This way," the Weasley patriarch said suddenly, veering off down a narrow pathway to their right.

Rufus gritted his teeth and followed. Bloody. Fucking. WEASLEYS.

Hogwarts Grounds

Molly sighed tiredly as she walked through the gates, moving slowly up the pathways towards the school. It had been a long day. Sweet little Emily just hadn't wanted to settle the night before – Merlin knew, Molly loved children and had more than her fair share of practice, but it had been a long time since she had stayed up all night with a crying baby.

And then at dinner, overtired and overwrought, she had set off her only baby girl. Again.

Sometimes, she wished she could have Arthur's easygoing approach. His relationship with their children seemed almost effortless sometimes. Being the 'tough' parent was just not a fun job.

But she owed Ginny an apology. She had pushed her little girl too hard. How was Ginny to know, to understand how incredibly proud of her Molly was, if all she did was complain about how she behaved?

Molly let out another tired sigh, brushing her hair back from her eyes.

She'd lost both her brothers at once. She'd lost Percy, twice. She had spent the better part of twenty five years worrying that Arthur was going to get himself killed, with his clandestine job that he thought she knew nothing about. She'd spent the last nine years terrified that her eldest son was going to get himself trapped in a pyramid. Or kidnapped by tribals.

Was it so wrong to want her family to be safe?

With a snort and a shake of her head, Molly set her jaw and smoothed her expression. No, it wasn't. But taking her fear out on her family was wrong.

Constantly comparing her brilliant, strong, fiery daughter to more meek girls was wrong.

Although Hannah, the sweet dear, she was a lovely girl, wasn't she? And it seemed that her Ron was spending a fair bit of time with Hannah, lately. Maybe she could encourage…

She shook her head again, huffing. No. The children could make their own decisions.

Slipping through a side door in the castle, she made her way steadily up the stairs.

Hogwarts Grounds

"What I wouldn't give for a cuppa right now," Tonks muttered tiredly, rubbing her hand through her spiky pink hair.

Charlie snorted good-naturedly, reaching into his robes and pulling out a flask. He uncapped the tin and handed it to Tonks, and she laughed as she took a sip. "Okay," Charlie said evenly. "So so far, we've found that Vablatsky gave Riddle a part-time job when he was just out of Hogwarts."

"And fired him for stealing," Tonks finished. She spun on her heel, walking backwards up the path. Why Charlie felt the need to watch her like a hawk, she didn't understand. It wasn't like she tripped every time she took a step.

She promptly tripped over a root and fell to her bum.

"So maybe something he stole, she got back?" Charlie mused aloud, holding out a hand to pull her to her feet. "And he needs it, or didn't realize he'd lost it…"

"Why wait so long, though?" Tonks questioned with a scowl as she brushed herself off. "That was decades ago."

"Right," Charlie muttered. "It would have to be about something more recent, wouldn't it."

"Maybe it's something he can use as a weapon?"

"Maybe it's an ostrich. Or a robe. Or a bloody book," Charlie shot back. "We have to find out more or we won't have any way to narrow it down."

Tonks sighed. "Maybe it's not important," she said with a frustrated groan.

"Harry thinks it is. Bill thinks it is. Dad thinks it is."

Tonks grumbled under her breath, taking another draw from the flask.

"Maybe," she started.

And a scream echoed across the grounds, and Tonks spun around and stared at the school.

*Astronomy Tower

Hogwarts

Hannah wrapped her arms around herself, gazing out over the grounds. Her eyes nearly burned and she blinked rapidly.

Maybe she should try those eye drops Hermione had told her about.

Merlin, she hoped she would be able to sleep that night.

Something about knowing a battle was only weeks away was rattling her. Oh, Hannah wasn't a fighter and never would be. She would always try to defend her friends and family, but at her core, she was a caretaker. Not a warrior. Not like Sue.

Not like…

She shook her head, rubbing one hand tiredly over her still-burning eyes. Best not to dwell on that. He was probably just being friendly, all those times they wandered around the lake when neither could sleep. Why would he look twice at her, after all, with witches like Hermione and Sue around?

And that stung.

Hannah let out another sigh and leaned against the outer wall, her eyes fixed on the forest. She wondered if anyone had thought to check on the unicorn herd there. After what had happened in Ottery St. Catchpole…

"And what are you doing, up here all alone?"

She stiffened, closing her eyes momentarily. Cormac. Just what she needed to improve her mood. Turning to face the Gryffindor teen, she set her face in a friendly but distant expression. "Hello," she said quietly. "Nice night, isn't it?"

The boy ignored her, eyes fixed on her face. Hannah swallowed nervously when she saw the look on his face. There was something in his eyes – a sort of malicious glee – that had her taking a step back. "Didn't you know, it's not safe for little witches to wander alone at night?" he whispered. He moved forward a step, and Hannah backed up again. "You'll give a man all sorts of ideas."

No, Hannah thought, balling her hands into fists. Not again.

"It's almost like you're begging for it," the Gryffindor boy continued, a sickly smile appearing on his face. Hannah choked back a sob as he moved forward again, and she took another step back.

Her back hit the outer wall of the tower, and she closed her eyes.

"All alone," McClaggen whispered, "just waiting for me." She felt a shadow move over her, and opened her eyes to see the boy standing right in front of her. As she watched, he reached out and twisted a section of her hair around his fingers, staring at her. Hannah froze, her mind racing.

Come on, girl, she thought angrily at herself. You escaped Death Eaters! You can do this….

"My uncle always told me this was the best part," McClaggen muttered, still twirling her hair around his fingers. "Making you want it."

And as Hannah choked back another sob, he tightened his fist around her hair and pulled. She screamed, tears running down her face, and struggled to jerk free as her scalp burned. His other hand clamped around her wrist and squeezed, and Hannah gasped as her hand was forced open. Her wand clattered to the ground and suddenly he was everywhere – her vision blurred as she heard her robes tearing, felt his clammy hands on her skin. She swung wildly with her legs, trying to kick at him, but he just pinned her to the wall with one arm. Hannah sobbed.

"I'll get the others later," he was saying as she heard the clink of metal. "The uppity Mudblood bitch, Potter's little loon, and the Weasley girl – mmm." She heard him lick his lips and gagged as he clamped his fingers around her jaw, forcing her head back. "But you – "

Reaching his hand down, he jerked her trousers from her hips. "You're something, aren't - "

A sudden blast of cold air slammed Hannah back against the wall, and she screamed again as she fell to the ground. Several strands of hair tore from her scalp and she winced as the boy was jerked back. Spinning around, she stared as McClaggen screamed, a second blast sending him spiraling into the air.

And there, in the doorway, stood Molly Weasley, her kindly face twisted with hate.

"Not my girls, you little bitch," she spat.

The boy looked at her wildly, his eyes burning – and suddenly, he was falling. Hannah closed her eyes as a resounding thud echoed across the grounds, swallowing back bile. The tears started to fall in earnest and she flinched as Molly stepped forward, pulling off her outer robes. The Weasley matriarch tucked her robes around Hannah and pulled the girl to her feet, whispering softly to her. Behind them, the door banged open, and Hannah jumped, whimpering, as Molly rubbed her back.

Tonks and Ginny stared, Tonks immediately going to the ledge to look down at the grounds.

As Hannah struggled to catch her breath, Molly Weasley met Ginny's eyes and gave her daughter a grim smile.

Murray Household

London, England

The bottle was bloody empty again.

Mike cursed as he tossed the empty whiskey bottle in the bin, shoving his hands into his hair. He scowled, staring blankly at his car as he sat in his garage.

Well, it hadn't moved on it's own again since…. That night on the bridge.

He closed his eyes, the memory flooding his mind. Annie, grumbling under her breath that he'd had too much at dinner. The twins, screaming in the backseat. Standstill traffic on the bridge.

And that man – the huge, buff black guy, standing on the bridge like a sentry, just watching. Jumping forward suddenly and slamming something down on the roof of the car. That sickly feeling like a hook behind his navel and then the world spun….

He'd seen the news after. After they had landed roughly in a back alley, his wife and kids screaming in terror. After he had stopped shaking and driven them home. The bridge had collapsed, and everyone else on the bridge that night was dead.

That man had saved their lives. But how?

He shook his head, running a shaking hand through his hair again. Christ, he should just go back to New York.

The weeks since that night had been stressful, to say the least. His bum leg was aching again, and the other one – well, he hadn't had phantom pains in years, but Christ, was he feeling them now. The business in Kent, Surrey, Manchester, it was all wild, all inexplicable…

Just like what had happened to his family.

Something was very, very wrong.

He sighed again, shoving to his feet. His left leg buckled slightly under his weight and he swore angrily, muttering to himself as he waited for the feeling to pass. The clink of metal sounded as he moved towards the house.

The Army might have put him on leave, but he had a feeling it would be all hands on deck soon enough.

Time to go see the Colonel.

"Annie!" he shouted as he moved into the house. "Pack a bag and take the kids to Gloria's!"

Minister's Manor

London, England

October 6, 1996

Croaker sighed as he sat slowly in the plush armchair, his eyes narrowed as he stared around the room. It was a ridiculous hour for a summons, just gone three o'clock. Across the table, Tiberius sat fuming, his shoulders stiff and his eyes burning. Theresa Edgecombe was leaning into the man's side, rubbing a hand up and down his back and speaking to him softly. Now and then, a muscle would tick in McClaggen's jaw. Further down the table, Mafalda and Dirk were gazing at him with undisguised worry. The pair shared a look of concern and Creswell shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face.

Amos sat stockstill, glaring at McClaggen. That's right, Croaker thought to himself. His son was friends with the Abbott girl.

News of the events at Hogwarts the evening before had spread like… well, like Fiendfyre. He'd been sitting in this room not five hours before, listening to Fudge rave about the Weasley family. Molly Weasley had acted as judge, jury, and executioner, he had vented, "which just proves!" the emotional man had exclaimed.

Thicknesse has just nodded sympathetically the whole time. McClaggen had spat out a demand for Molly Weasley's blood. Edgecombe had suggested arresting her immediately.

It was Diggory who had scoffed at that, and the table turned to glare at him. "She's already on your Most Wanted list," the man had pointed out, a slight undertone of glee in his voice. "And you can't find her now."

Oh, Amos, Croaker thought to himself, eyeing the other man at the end of the table. An actor, you are not, my friend.

The door slammed open and Croaker let out a sigh of relief. He was getting too old for these early mornings.

But… wait.

His eyes narrowed, and Croaker sat up straighter as he watched Thicknesse sweep into the room, sitting in Fudge's normal chair at the head of the table. Down the other end of the room, Cresswell and Diggory exchanged a worried look, and Croaker just braved himself.

He knew a coup when he saw one, after all. He'd helped to orchestrate his fair share.

"There is no easy way to say this," Thicknesse said softly, his voice oozing the fake sorrow that Edgecombe seemed to eat up. "Minister Fudge is dead."

Theresa gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. Hopkirk and Cresswell stiffened, and Diggory just stared.

"Trace evidence at the scene," Thicknesse continued, "has given us our culprit."

"Who?" McClaggen demanded roughly, and Thicknesse sent him a sad smile.

"Amelia Bones."

Ah, yes, Croaker thought. I wondered when they would get around to dealing with her.

A murmur of shock went around the table. As he watched, Cresswell sat up straighter, and Diggory leaned back in his chair slightly.

"We must determine what to do about the Minister position," Thicknesse said, and the others all stared.

"Might I make a suggestion?" a drawling voice sounded from the doorway, and Croaker looked up to see Lucius Malfoy framed in the firelight, Nott Sr and Rookwood to either side.

Florence, Italy

June 18, 1996

(Fifteen weeks ago)

The murmurs woke him.

Bill's eyes shot open and he sat up slowly, wand already in his hand. He glanced at the cots to his left and right, eyes narrowed against the darkness. No, Lou and Deacon were both asleep. Shaking his head, he pushed to his feet, moving towards the doorway.

They had been on site for only three weeks so far, and it was already his least favorite job to date. Bill didn't scare easily – one couldn't do his job and be frightful – but there was something undeniably creepy about the site they were working.

But they had been going through tunnels for weeks, and so far – nothing. So much nothing, as a matter of fact, that they had started setting up camp inside the site, which was not the normal practice.

Louis had started grumbling the week before, and hadn't stopped since. Bill understood, wearying though it was to listen to. Ten percent of nothing made for a weak paycheck, after all.

But both Dumbledore and the goblins insisted that something was there. The goblins just wanted treasure. Dumbledore – well, Bill was pretty sure Dumbledore wanted whatever was making Bill's skin crawl every single waking moment.

For a few minutes, he stood in the doorway, motionless, listening carefully. But… nothing. Still, he thought with a sigh, and turned to go back to sleep.

You don't belong here.

Bill froze midstep, his hand tightening around his wand. Spinning on his heel, he strode back into the hallway, wand raised and eyes narrowed against the darkness. Across the tunnel, the torches flared to life, then died in a nonexistent breeze.

Game time, I suppose, he thought with a smirk.

Quiet footfalls sounded to his right, and he turned slightly to see Lexi and Jess coming out of the next alcove. "Did you hear that?" Jess whispered, her face white. Lex just frowned, her eyes scanning up and down the tunnel.

Bill nodded curtly, glancing back over his shoulder. Behind him, Lou had stirred, and the grouchy Frenchman let out a groan when he saw the way they were standing. Grumbling to himself, the smaller man stood, wand at the ready.

"Should we wake Deke?" Lex murmured, but Bill shook his head.

"Why don't you stay here, keep guard," he whispered back. There was a strange feeling gathering in the air, almost like ozone. "If something is here, we don't want it blocking our way out."

The girl nodded, her long purple hair swinging slightly, and stepped back to stand a few feet down the corridor, back towards the entrance.

"Come on," Bill muttered to the other two.

"We should get the rest of the team," Lou hissed, and Bill frowned at him.

"We don't even know if there's anything yet," he argued. "We'll summon them if there's a reason."

Sure, it was a breach of protocol, but… how many times, already, had they called the team for nothing? Somebody should get some sleep, he thought with a scowl.

Behind him, Deacon let out a loud snore.

Jess and Lou were looking at him strangely, but suddenly, Jess shrugged, grinning. "Lead on, Indiana," she said teasingly, and Bill shot her a glare.

Turning to the left, he set off down the tunnels. With the ease of years of practice, Jess fell into lockstep just to his left, Lou to his right. The Frenchman was watching their retreat, holding a small shield over them as Bill and Jess swept the tunnels for traps.

It was a trek of over an hour, but finally, they reached the end of the area they had explored. Bill found himself looking at a cave-in, a giant boulder blocking the tunnels. He glanced at the other two and saw Jess frowning, her eyes fixed to the obstacle.

You don't belong here echoed through the tunnels again, and Bill's eyes narrowed.

It was louder.

"Here," he said sharply, and Lou stepped forward, casting detection spells on the boulder. After a moment, he scowled and nodded, and Jess blasted the rock away.

The smell of ozone, the heaviness to the air, grew as Bill and his teammates stared through the opening. Behind the boulder was a small chamber, looking almost like a little ceremony room. There was a sundial in the center, a circle of stones arrayed around it, and in the furthest corner, a huge chest.

And a lot of dust.

"Merci," Lou muttered, his eyes alighting on the chest, and Jess snorted. Bill just shook his head, eyes fixed on the opening across the way.

He moved through the chamber without pause, Jess and Lou hurrying after him. When he reached the opposite doorway he stopped, eyes closed, and lifted one hand to the surface. Whispering under his breath, he carefully dismantled the small little traps that lay on the other side.

Javelins through the chest weren't anyone's idea of a good time, after all.

"We should call the team now," Jess said quietly. "That's the first actual trap we've found; there must be something – "

You can't steal this secret.

Bill grinned, his ponytail swinging in an invisible wind. "Come on," he said calmly, and he stepped through the doorway. Behind him, Lou groaned, and Jess let out a long-suffering sigh.

Well… there was a reason they called him 'The Maverick', wasn't there?

Then the door swung shut behind them, and Bill swore under his breath.

This is why you should always listen to Jess, he thought darkly. His hand clenched around his wand as he drew up a repelling ward, and all around them, skeletons wrenched themselves out of the dirt walls. He heard Lou shout as he blasted a skeleton to pieces, Jess yelp as she shook off a small, dog-like creature that was trying to tear at her leg…

Then suddenly, the skeletons cascaded to the ground in a rattling pile of bones.

Bill stared down the corridor as the other two caught their breath, his eyes narrowed on a glimmer of blue light.

"Bill - " Jess said warningly, but Bill shook his head, moving steadily down the corridor. Behind him, he heard the other two swear and follow after him.

He moved through one ceremony room, then another, then another. Nothing attacked them again, and the tingling sensation grew stronger with every step. The air was so heavy that it almost felt solid on his skin, the darkness tinged with a strange, electric blue.

"We should really – " Lou started.

Bill stepped through another opening and suddenly, the sound of stone scraping on stone echoed through the chamber. He spun to see a door sliding shut and Jess shouted, jumping through the opening. A few strands of her hair caught in the doorway as it closed just behind her, so close that it ripped the back of her shirt, and Bill's heart thudded in his chest as he stared at the closed doorway. On the other side, he could hear Lou grumbling.

Smart, Weasley, he thought derisively at himself. Real smart.

"What is this?" Jess whispered, her eyes scanning the walls. Bill turned from the doorway and looked around them, swallowing roughly as he took in their surroundings.

They stood in a huge, cavernous space, lit by the unnatural blue glow. The walls around them were crusted with blue crystals, the floor a smooth marble. In the center of the room stood a huge platform with a pedestal in the center, and on the pedestal…

Bill's eyes narrowed as he gazed at the huge stone. It was completely transparent, tinged with blue, with little bolts of lightning shooting through it. As he watched, a small bolt shot from the stone and disappeared towards the ceiling.

Jess hissed under her breath as she watched, and Bill nodded absently. That had to be something important.

"Lou!" Jess shouted suddenly, as Bill stood there, transfixed.

"I'm working on it!" the Frenchman snarled, and Bill stepped forward.

"Bill, don't – "

He didn't remember moving, but somehow, he was standing on the platform. With a few waves of his wand, he cast some quick detection charms, then nodded to himself. He spun around quickly, casting a strong ward and shield around Jess, then immediately turned his back on his best friend.

Sure, he'd play Russian roulette with his own life… but no way in hell was he risking hers.

You can't steal this secret echoed through the chamber again as he reached out. Holding his breath, Bill wrapped his hand around the stone, and lifted it from the pedestal.

Immediately, his mind flooded with images. Diagon Alley in flames. Dementors roaming the streets. A town, flooded and teeming with merfolk, their spears covered in blood. The images came faster, Ron and Ginny's faces coated in grime and tears, Harry and Hermione covered in blood, Charlie lying still, his mother sobbing – a desolate field, a graveyard….

The images came faster and he fell to his knees, grunting as a strange bolt of electricity shot from the stone into his hand. It seemed to run through his bloodstream and he felt a terrible burning sensation, blue light flashing behind his eyelids. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself back to his feet and struggled to uncurl his fingers from the stone.

But he couldn't let go.

Do you see, now, wizard? a chilling voice whispered. Do you see what is to come?

Bill swallowed, his eyes stinging. The smell of burning flesh hit him and he bit back a swear as he felt his hands blistering, the heat racing up and down his veins. Small bolts of electricity began to form around him, on him, and started shooting around the chamber. Behind him, he heard Jessica sob.

I can give you the power, the voice whispered, the tools to aid in the fight. You need only pay the price.

Bill forced his eyes open and suddenly, the chamber was gone. He stood in a graveyard, the headstones stretching on as far as the eye could see.

On every headstone, a familiar name was etched, and he felt a deep, chilling misery begin to build.

You must decide, wizard, the voice continued. Do you wish to play with buried treasure forever? Or do you wish to help the ones you love?

Yes, Bill thought suddenly, his mother's tears face swimming in front of his eyes.

"Bill!" Jess shouted, her voice breaking through the haze. Bill shook his head wildly. The electricity was sparking still, the bolts of lightning arcing around the room and bouncing off the crystals in the walls. The floor shook violently and the sound of scraping stone echoed around them.

You accept? it hissed.

Bill swallowed. He didn't know what the thing was, or what it was asking.

But compared to what he had just seen, did it matter? If there was even a chance that anything he'd just seen was true…

"Bill, please," Jess sobbed. A bolt of lightning shot from the pedestal and collided with the crystals behind her, and she shrieked as the lightning passed just a hairsbreadth over her head.

I accept, Bill thought at the voice.

Suddenly, the lightning vanished, and Bill gasped as the stone clattered from his hand. He looked down at his fingers, curled in on themselves and already covered in blisters, and winced as he struggled to straighten them.

He looked over at Jessica, hair swinging wildly, and swallowed.

"Did you see that? And the voice…" He swallowed again, his hands shaking. Everything was still tinged with a slight blue, and the color was fading from the room around him, almost like a running watercolor.

Jess was staring at him, her eyes wide and her pretty face pale. "Bill, I didn't see or hear a thing but – " She stared at his hands, a terrible look of grief on her face. "That lightning, I thought it was going to fry you…." Tears slid down her face.

Bill swallowed again, feeling like a cad. "I'm sorry," he said shakily. Jess just shook her head, pressing her hands to her face.

"Alright in there?" Lou's voice sounded through the stone door. "What happened?"

"We're okay!" Jess called back, her voice thick with tears. "Just – "

Bill stepped down from the platform, moving stiffly, and grunted as he felt another spark of electricity run up his back. Around him, the air seemed to grow heavy again, and he froze.

Dust was rising up from the floor, floating toward the ceiling. As it moved, it turned a soft, ethereal blue.

This isn't over, Bill thought frantically. "Jess," he called, and his best friend looked at him from behind her shield.

Suddenly, his father's voice sounded in his mind.

Never trust anything that can think for itself, the memory of his father's voice echoed, if you can't see where it keeps it's brain.

A bolt of lightning shot down from the ceiling, thick as a tree trunk, and a terrible laugh echoed around them. Time to pay the price, wizard, the voice said chillingly. You can't steal this secret.

And with sudden, terrible clarity, Bill knew.

"Jess!" he shouted, jumping towards the girl, but something blasted him back, and he landed in a heap against the pedestal. He struggled to stand as a cage of lightning appeared around him and the giant bolt struck.

Jessica screamed as the lightning shot through her, burning flesh melting from her face. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her limbs shaking, and she slid to the ground, static making her burned hair stand on edge. Bill screamed as he stared at her, and a blue forcefield erupted from his skin. He struggled to his feet and shook as the bolts raced over his skin, as the voice continued to echo in his mind.

Through his dimming vision, he saw the door explode in a shower of stone. Alex and Lou raced into the room, Lou crouching next to Jessica and Lex running to his side.

"I'm sorry, Bill," Lexi murmured, turning her wand on him, and everything went dark.

You can't steal this secret.