Hello all! Tis I, rave, your happy nonsense supplier and local raving lunatic. Heh heh, get it? *rave*ing lunatic? Get it? Get it?

*long pause*

Aww....never mind.

This bit is rated PG-13; as I recall, there's violence in it. Yes, that's it. Violence. So..er...the last part might not make much sense, but it will all be explained...much is explained later on. Have some patience, grasshopper. Thank you a thousand times to everyone who reviewed the first bit and the prologue--Trinity Day, peeves_is_peeved (you've heard of Nick Drake too?! yes! yes! yes! *does a happy dance* i've got to pick up that biography somehow...), Sherry, soz, Blaise, magical*little*me, netshark...oh, there were more and I can't remember them and I love them so! ;_; *weeps* You're *all* my heroes. Thank you so much.

By the way, a quick pronunciation guide to the names of our Irish ministry party who show up at the end:

Niamh--pronounced Neeve

Aoine--pronounced like a sort of cross between AN-ye and AN-ya

Sean--pronounced Shaun

Kieran--pronounced KYEH-ran

The rest of them are basically pronounced the way you'd expect them to be pronounced. I think. If you can't pronounce "Michael", for example, I'm giving you up for lost.

If you leave a review i might consider NOT feeding you to the evil Writer's Block monster that lives under my bed. Muahahaha.

-rave.

Bryter Layter--Part II

Stars, Seekers and Stones

Erin hopped up and down in her seat, rubbing her hands together against the unseasonable cold and breathing out clouds of frost. "Anika's first match," she said excitedly to no one in particular, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. "I'm so nervous I could absolutely die."

"You don't have to be nervous, that's Anika's lookout," laughed Iris Cantor, blowing into her palms in a futile attempt to warm them. "Why didn't you bring your wand, Erin? I tell you, I could do with a good Heating Charm about now..."

"Yeah," chimed in a third Ravenclaw, Yvonne Lipson, through chattering teeth. "You're the only one who knows them well enough."

"Pfft," said Erin, obscurely. "Anyway, the excitement will warm us up! Look, look, it's starting!" Professor McGonagall had walked out to the edge of the field, accompanied by Elisha Stanton, a fifth-year Hufflepuff girl who always announced the matches. "Hush, you guys!"

The referee, Madam Hooch, was saying something to the two captains, who had already come onto the field. James Potter looked completely at ease; Will McKinnon, on the other hand, looked decidedly nervous. Finishing her speech, Hooch leapt onto her broomstick. At that signal, twelve blurs--six red, six blue--came shooting out of the locker rooms and into formation, floating in the air. Erin, perched on the edge of the seat, could just see Anika, looking faintly green, taking up her position by the hoops. "YOU CAN DO IT, ANI!" she screamed, waving a blue flag furiously. A whistle blew.

"And they're off! Ravenclaw starts with the Quaffle--Chaser Andrew Chang of Ravenclaw, a nice pass to Delia Quick--Quick with the Quaffle, haha--"

"Do you mind, Stanton?"

"Sorry, Professor--Quick really speeding down the field, there, and--oh! A very close call, there, with that Bludger--nicely deflected by Will McKinnon, Ravenclaw beater--and a pass to Vanessa Pierce--a neat interception, there, by Chaser Sirius Black!" Erin gave a yell of disappointment that was lost in the cheers of the Gryffindor supporters. "Black's speeding towards the goalposts--a new Keeper this year, Anika Donovan--sorry, Donelan-- have to see how she handles this one--he shoots--SAVED! An excellent save by Donelan!" Erin's throat was nearly ripped apart, she was screaming so loudly and enthusiastically.

Anika quickly passed the Quaffle to Vanessa, body so tense she was almost shaking. You're doing fine, she told herself firmly. Don't get worked up, or you'll destroy your own chances.

Oh, no problem. Don't get worked up. There are only--what, a THOUSAND GAZILLION PEOPLE watching me? I won't get worked up. Of course not.

"And Pierce with the Quaffle--she's heading for the goal--nice dive around Chaser Darren Jordan--she's getting ready to shoot--wow! a very nice fake, passing instead to Andrew Chang, puts it in, no problem, making it 0-10 Ravenclaw!" This time, the Ravenclaw cheers were deafening.

"Black back in possession--the Gryffindor chasers may well be some of the best ever assembled, I think we can all admit--working seamlessly--and it's Black--Moyer--Jordan--Moyer--Black preparing to shoot again--"

This time, Anika let herself relax. Sirius seemed to be moving in slow motion, his arms moving as though he would shoot for the leftmost hoop--but she could read the slight variation in muscle tension in his shoulders, and moved instead towards the center one, catching the Quaffle a mere instant later.

"Amazing! You just can't fake this one out, can you?" Anika could see the look of almost gratified surprise on Sirius's face as he moved back, but she ignored it, this time tossing the Quaffle to Delia.

The game was getting heated. Anika, however, seemed to grow gradually into the rhythm of it the longer it went on; after forty-five straight minutes of play, she had let in not one goal. Ravenclaw, meanwhile, was fifty points up--not a spectacular score but, to Anika's inexperienced eyes, a miracle.

"She's really good, isn't she? Their Keeper?" Remus muttered to the girl next to him, shading his eyes against the bright sun. "I've never seen anyone shut out Sirius for this long!"

"Don't worry," Lily Whitby murmured back, smiling. "James's got the whole game in the palm of his hand. That Emily Watson's probably all right, but she's only a third-year...James will win it for us."

"Oooh yes, James will win it for us," teased Remus, fluttering his eyelashes and clasping his hands melodramatically. "James can do anything. Oh Ja-ames, Ja-ames, Ja-ow!" He grinned at his friend, rubbing his shoulder. "You wouldn't be mad if it weren't true."

"Really, Moony, anyone would think you didn't want Gryffindor to win." piped up Peter, waving a Gryffindor pennant furiously. "Isn't that Keeper the one Padfoot and Prongs were teasing you about last night? Anita or something?"

"Er--no, I don't think so," Remus lied, avoiding Lily's beady stare. "No...that was someone different. In fact, I--look!"

James, who had been circling like a hawk high above the pitch, had gone into an abrupt dive towards the Gryffindor goalposts, so sharp it looked like he was going to crash. A gasp went up from the red-clad supporters--"He's seen it! The Snitch!"

Emily Watson had wheeled her own broom around and was racing after him at top speed, but she couldn't possibly match James's experience and skill. He swerved neatly around a beater sent by Perry Quick, dodged his own team's Chaser, Sara Moyer, and reached his hand out--

A roar erupted from the stands as James soared back up, clutching the Snitch in his fingers, its tiny wings beating against his palm. The swell of sound from the Gryffindors was so loud that it overpowered the disappointed yells of the Ravenclaws and the Slytherins' outright booing.

Anika landed in something of a haze, unaware that her teammates were near-ecstatic even after their loss, not even registering when they nearly bowled her over in a hysterical pile. It's over...it's over, and I survived...

"You were amazing!" screamed Erin, almost crying, fighting her way to the forefront. "Ani, you were incredible!"

"Oh," Ani said, dazed. "I can't believe I'm still alive..."

One face swam out of the haze and asserted itself before her eyes. Sirius. He was grinning hugely, ignoring the shouts of his teammates, apparently unaware of the incongruity of his red robes with the cerulean ones around him. "That was some excellent Keeping, Ani."

"About time someone kept you from getting too cocky," said Anika faintly.

His grin grew even wider. "Bit late for that."

"Never too late."

"Hey--I--er--" He looked around, apparently aware for the first time of the sheer number of irritated-looking Ravenclaws surrounding him. Dropping his voice, he leaned in closer to her. "I wanted to talk to you--meet me down by Hagrid's cabin after classes?"

"Sure," Anika said, unable to prevent a smile from spreading over her face. "Even though your stupid team beat me."

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "We didn't do anything. It was James, this time. See you later, then." With a jaunty wave, he vanished back into the crush of Gryffindor supporters.

*

She was walking out of her last class, Ancient Runes, when she ran into Gretchen Stoop beside the statue of Boris the Bewildered. "Hey, Gretch!"

"'Lo, Ani! Great job in the game today...you really showed that Sirius git what's what!" Gretchen's usually pleasant face was stamped with an expression of malicious approval.

Anika scratched her head uncertainly. "He's not really such a git..."

"Ani, he's a Gryffindor. They're all gits."

"Now, that isn't fair," Anika said, beginning to feel rather cross. "Every House has got its share of prats--look at Severus Snape, I mean, he's in your house and he's awful, but you're not--and what about that wanker Ellis Pritchard? If you judged all us Ravenclaws by him, just imagine!"

Gretchen's expression had become oddly cold. "Anika, I'm dating Severus."

"Oh!" Anika went completely scarlet. "Oh Gretch, I'm so sorry, I didn't know--I--er--"

The Slytherin forced a laugh. "You're entitled to your opinion, of course. Just don't get too tied up to those Gryffindors--you'll end up being sorry you did. Believe me." Her voice had taken on an almost sinister undertone. "And don't insult my boyfriend in front of me any more. If I didn't know better, I'd think that getting onto the Team had given you a swollen head." She turned on her heel and marched away, leaving Anika still trying to stammer out apologies and wringing her hands unhappily.

*

By the time she got down to Hagrid's cabin--still feeling slightly guilty, as though she were double-crossing Gretchen by going to meet Sirius--the sun was beginning to set, leaving long yellow streaks against the October sky. A slight wind stirred the grasses around the house, sending the colorful leaves spiraling from the trees through the air; the bright windows burned cheerfully against the chill night. Anika shivered, pulling her cloak closer around her.

"Hallo," said a light, soft voice from the shadows.

She whipped around, surprised. "Sirius?"

"No." The figure stepped into the light, his fair hair falling in streaks across his face. "Remus. Sorry to disappoint."

"Disappoint? Oh no, of course not!" She tucked a wayward strand of hair out of her face, blinking owlishly. "Is he...he told me..."

"He's trying to set us up," said Remus bluntly. "Thinks I need a girlfriend."

She laughed softly. "Do you?"

Remus snorted. "Interfering, arrogant little bastard, Sirius is. None of his business anyway."

"Nor any of mine," said Anika quickly. "He said he had something to tell me, though...or was he just..."

"He was going to invite you up to the Astronomy tower...James and Sirius and Peter and I--you know Peter? Peter Pettigrew?"

"I think so...he's that short boy, isn't he? A bit..." Anika fumbled with her robes, trying not to be cruel. "A bit...er..."

"Chubby," supplied Remus. "In a good way, of course. Well, we go up there, nights, just to look at the stars...you know, enjoy the night air...sometimes we just go to sleep up there. It's really a lovely place."

"...Catch a bit of hypothermia, you know, turn into little human ice cubes..."

Remus looked concerned. "Oh, are you cold? Here--" He fumbled in the pocket of his robes, emerging at last with a glass jar that seemed to be full of blue flames. She took it, wonderingly, and immediately gasped...it was as though she was being flooded with warm water, the most beautiful sensation she could imagine in the crisp night. "Oooh, Remus! This is lovely.."

He looked slightly proud. "Er, well, I'm glad...come in handy for me, it has."

"Won't you freeze without it?"

An odd, deeply sad look came into his amber eyes, and he turned away, staring pensively at the starry sky. "I'm used to the cold."

Something about him--the strong, almost tragic profile, the shadowed golden eyes--grabbed her somewhere behind her breastbone and tugged like an unhappy child at her throat. There was silence for some time.

She took a deep breath, mentally shaking herself. "I...I'd love to come up with you, but when? We're not supposed to be out of bed at night, are we?"

Remus turned back to her, the sadness in his face swept away by a sly sort of smile. "No one ever comes up there anyway. If they do...well, let's just say we've got backup." James's Prof-Repellant Pellets are really excellent, he added silently.

He offered his hand to her, eyes glinting enigmatically. "May I?"

She slipped her hand into his, cradling the flame jar between them. "There. Used to the cold or not, I feel better sharing this."

"Yeah," he said softly, not looking at her. "Thought you would."

She smiled at the ground, her cheeks slightly pink--perhaps, Remus thought, from the brisk wind.

*

"New moon," said Sirius, his hands behind his head. "Makes everything so much clearer. Do you see--" He propped himself up on one elbow, face silhouetted against the bright pinpoints of the stars, and traced a clear shape with his finger against the sky. "Orion, that is. And there--Altair, Vega, Mira." He rolled the delicious words with his tongue, tasting them. "If I ever had a daughter, I'd name her Altair. Altair Black."

"New moon," echoed Remus. "My favorite time."

"They're beautiful," whispered Anika, awed. "I never even knew..." She barely noticed the cold flagstones against her back and head, so drawn in was she to the crystal tapestry of midnight spread out above them, impossibly beautiful and enormous. "Even in Astronomy, you never look at them quite this way." She shifted slightly, lacing her hands across her small breasts, to look at Sirius. "Where's your namesake?"

The dark-haired boy smiled, raising his hand again. "There--you see that bright one, there? That's Sirius. My mother would show it to me when I was just a kid."

"Sirius," rumbled James peacefully, "you're still a kid."

Sirius continued as if he hadn't heard. "She'd tell me that I could do whatever I put my mind to--that as long as that star shone in the sky, I'd be invincible." He was silent for a moment. An edge of bitterness crept into his voice. "My father never agreed with her."

"Bastard," said James casually. "Forget him, Padfoot."

Anika stared at the skies. "Padfoot...what's that nickname from?"

"Er..." An uncomfortable silence. "Bit of an inside joke, that."

"Ah," said Anika wisely.

Another silence.

"I think," said Remus cheerfully, scooting into a more confortable position on the chill flagstones, "that we should have a question-and-answer session. To get to know each other. We get to ask Anika something, then she gets to ask one of us something."

"Anything?" asked Peter nervously.

Sirius grinned wickedly. "I'm for anything."

"I'm not," said James firmly.

"Don't care," Remus said quickly.

"Not," voted Peter.

"For," said Anika at the same time.

They looked around at each other, laughing a bit. "All right, anything," conceded James. "Sorry, Wormtail."

"Doesn't matter," grumbled Peter. "Not like anything interesting has ever happened to me anyway."

"I get to go first," demanded Anika, giggling. "Right. Er...Sirius?"

"Fire away."

Doesn't seem sportsmanlike to ask about the "Padfoot" thing...that's a bit too mean. "Um...er...I can't think of anything!--all right, who's the most attractive girl at Hogwarts?"

"Professor McGonagall," said Sirius without hesitation.

"That," said Anika firmly, "is disgusting. Please make an attempt to get past your adolescent statutory-rape fantasies and give me a real answer. And you're not allowed to say 'You are, Anika', because I will see straight through into your lying heart. So there. "

Sirius poked his tongue out at her. "That was a real answer." Anika raised one eyebrow. It was a very expressive motion. "All right! Um..." He considered for a moment, scratching his chin. "Erin Piper or Sara Moyer. Toss-up."

"You don't deserve Erin," said Anika irritably.

"I don't deserve Sara either. That's why I lust from afar. Anyway, it's my turn. Turnabout is fair play, so who's the most attractive guy?"

"Purely physically? Probably Will McKinnon." That isn't true. You're surrounded by four people who are all more attractive than Will, and you know it. Even Peter is, in a cute, little-boy sort of way.

Oh, like I'm going to tell them so!

"Burly fellow without much brain, isn't he?"

"You aren't jealous because I didn't pick you, are you, Black?"

"Don't make me laugh! Aha, aha ha ha."

"My turn again." She thought for a moment, then abruptly remembered something. "Which one of you enchanted that damn dog to spy on me?"

All rolled onto their stomachs, gaping at her. "Y--what are you talking about?" Peter managed.

"You didn't close off the receiving end of your Transmitter charm properly," Anika explained. "I kept hearing voices muttering things like 'Has she taken it out from behind the bed yet?' and 'But where's Erin?' and 'If we're going to be voyeurs, we might at least be successful voyeurs.' Bit rum, having little voices emitting from a stuffed animal behind your bed..."

"That was a pretty good imitation of me, that last one," Sirius admitted.

Anika, not looking at him, glared at the sky.

"All right, it was me. I thought it'd be funny." He watched her sideways, but there was no reaction. For the first time--perhaps ever-- a tendril of regret brushed him. "Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or offend you or anything."

Anika remained silent.

"I really am sorry. Honestly." With a bit of a shock, he realized that it was true. With yet another shock, he realized that she was grinning. "What? What's so funny?" Suspicion assailed him. "What did you do to it?"

"I took advantage of the open-endedness of the spell, I admit." Her grin grew wider. "Sent a Manure-Mist through the charm. When you get back to your dormitory, you might have to break out the air fresheners..."

James whacked her on the arm, filled with admiration. "Awful! And yet so perfect!"

"Pfeh," said Sirius unhappily, imagining what the state of the dormitory would be when they returned in the morning.

"Serves you right," said Peter sanctimoniously.

"Oh shut up, Peter, you'll be smelling it too..."

"Yeah, but the omniculars were on your bed...you'll be drowning in it..."

"Shut up, I said!"

"For some reason, this scene seems awfully familiar," said Remus thoughtfully.

"All right, it's my turn," James declared, settling back on his shoulderblades and regarding the sky. "How do you and Hagrid know each other?"

Anika hesitated. "I--I'm not sure that's fair..."

"Come on, Ani, you agreed we could ask anything!"

"I know, but..." This involved Hagrid's secrets as well, not just her own. [AN: Get your minds out of the gutter, you filthy pervs, before I set the skrewts on you.] "I can't...I mean, Hagrid..."

"Has it got to do with Hagrid's...er...parentage?" asked Remus unexpectedly. "Because we know all about that."

Anika's mind reeled. "You know?"

"Yeah," said Sirius easily, "we found out ages ago."

"Oh..." Anika scratched her head. "Well, then. I guess you might as well know...my mum met him at a meeting...support group, you know...for halfbloods, and magical creatures living as humans." She paused, finally giving a little sigh. "Might as well tell you...can't really lie, once I'm into the question. I'm half Sidhe, you see."

There was a short silence. Finally Peter asked, carefully, "Half--Shee? Which means what, exactly?"

"Sidhe," Anika said, rather impatiently. "S-I-D-H-E. You know, the Tuatha de Danaan." As it became apparent that they had no idea what she was talking about, she smacked them all--just on principle--and explained, "You stupid British bigots, don't you know anything about Ireland? The Tuatha were the people who lived there first. Just about flooded the place with all sorts of magic...old, elemental magic. You Brits can't even approach our level of enchantment. Sometimes they come out and...er...get freaky with the local humans. They're starting to die out, you see, they have to continue their line. My mum did, but then she went and fell in love with my dad--don't see why," she added darkly. "So anyway, now you know my deep, dark secret. Hagrid and mum are quite good friends, so he's known me since I was a baby."

"So you're half-faerie," Remus recapitulated. It explained a lot--the oddly large eyes, the high cheekbones, pointed chin and ears, long fingers, and ethereally pale skin. Deep, dark secrets...

"Well if you'd just said faerie, we all would have known what you meant," said Sirius irritably. "Funny Irish words with weird spellings, I don't know...Don't hit me again!"

"Not worth the effort," said Anika peevishly. "Brits. Thick as pigshit, the lot of you."

"You haven't got an accent," James pointed out. "You really Irish?"

"I was born on the Aran Islands, but I grew up in Britain...mum thought Hogwarts was a better school than Bunratty."

"We're obviously superior," said Sirius, in snobbish tones.

"You're obviously a twit."

"Oooh, I might need time to heal from that one..."

"Good, does that mean you'll take off somewhere and leave us all alone? Don't let me keep you..."

"God, Sirius, you and her are almost as bad as you and James!" said Peter in awe.

"You and she," corrected Remus automatically.

"Thank you, Professor Lupin!" said everyone together, glaring at him.

Remus shrunk back, waving his hands apologetically. "All right! All right!"

*

The hills were swathed in mist, the almost celestial green of their sides melting into the grey of the air and sky. Blades of grass, heavy with moisture, crumpled under the feet of the party of wizards as they beat a path towards the ghostly dolmen at the plateau.

Aoine Monahan brushed a shank of coppery hair out of her eyes, shaking moisture out of her green uniform. "Bit wet."

"No joke." Padraic Finnigan strode up next to her, his sharp brown eyes sweeping over the tall stones. "This place gives me the creeps--let's do what we have to and get out."

"Sean'd never forgive you for being such a coward, Paddy," teased his wife Nuala, her brown hair fuzzing around her face.

"Sean's your son, isn't he?" asked Aoine, hoisting up her cloak.

"Aye." A rare look of pride suffused the man's tawny face. "Sixteen, he is, and such a boy!"

"He'll be at Bunratty, then?"

"Aye, sixth year. Doing us proud, he is," said Nuala happily. "Your daughter--she'd be around Sean's age, wouldn't she, Michael?"

"Think so," grunted Michael Donelan, striding into the center of the hilltop.

"'Think so?'" teased young Kieran O'Keefe, tossing his long ponytail behind him. "And you're sure you have a daughter?"

"I don't see her much." The taciturn Michael had lost interest in the conversation; he was tracing a wide circle with his wand, muttering strange words under his breath.

"I'm not ashamed to say it--place makes me a bit shaky too," admitted Connor Heaney, his russet hair in sharp curls from the wet. "Think about what happened here...those poor kids..." He shivered.

Aoine turned around, spotting their Diviner, Bridget Flaherty. She was struggling up the steep hill, her thick blond braid swinging in a heavy rope behind her. "Need some help, Bridge?"

"This place must affect her especially," muttered Padraic. "You know how it is with Sensitives, and Bridget the best mind the Ministry's got..."

"Yeah, but we need her, so and we do," Nuala pointed out, placing a protective hand on her husband's shoulder. "She'll be fine--won't you, Bridge?"

Bridget shook her head with some difficulty. "I don't like it here. But I'll be fine...let's set the containment spell in motion so we can leave."

Kieran scrubbed furiously at his eyes. "I'm with Bridge. There's too much power here...think about how it could be used."

"That's why we're here," snapped Sean Quinn, his weathered face impassive. "Michael! You've got the Circle set up?"

"Nearly," rumbled the last man, flinty gray eyes unemotional. "Too much enchantment in the air, though--disrupts me boundaries. I need Niamh for this kind of work...get the Old magic a bit under control..."

"I'm coming, Michael." Niamh Kilroy glided up the slope, ageless in bearing and movement.

They all paused at the clearing, the eerie silence affecting each and every one of them. The mist swirled in eddies and pools around their faces, lending every word an echo, and the stones loomed out of it threateningly.

Aoine was the one to break the silence. "Come on, then--"

But she had barely spoken when there was an awful scream from behind them. Bridget had fallen on something in the grass--her head snapped back, she was howling unintelligably into the mists--there was what sounded like a small explosion, and her body shuddered and slumped.

"Bridge!" yelled Nuala, dashing towards her and shaking her furiously. Her fingers fumbled for her throat--"No pulse," she breathed in horror as the rest of the team arrived behind her. "Merlin's beard, Aoine...she's dead..."

"Overload," snapped Michael, walking up behind them and running a hand through his midnight-black hair. "It happens to Sensitives...too much malevolent power around a place, it goes into their heads and--" He made a very abrupt, final motion with his hands.

"Connor! What was she looking at?" Niamh forced herself to put all personal feelings aside--this was too crucial--

Connor turned his teammate over with shaking hands. "It's a skeleton--tiny little thing--"

"The kids, Padraic," whispered Nuala, appalled.

There was a flicker between the teeth of the tiny skull. All jumped back instinctively--

A small, poisonously green snake slithered out of the skeletal mouth, like a grotesque tongue.

"There aren't any snakes in Ireland," said Connor shakily. "Salazar Slytherin took them with him when he traveled to build Hogwarts--remember, we learned about it at school. What's going on here?"

There was a shout from behind them. Kieran was moving towards the stones, crying, "Aoine, look, look at this--"

Suspended between the two supporting stones of the dolmen was something that looked like an enormous spiderweb, glowing faintly green against the silent fog.

A Gate, Aoine realized in dread, her commander's mind sifting frantically through all the knowledge she possessed that might help them. Necromancy... "Kieran, don't touch that!"

But it was too late--the trainee's overeager hands had brushed one of the spidery filaments. A blast of green light howled over the hilltop. Kieran flew backwards and smashed into the ground, his head at an unnatural angle. The green wind whirled around them, shrieking with the voices of a thousand lost souls...

"Avada Kedavra," hissed a voice from out of the mists, echoing through the tumult. Connor slumped and fell, dead.

"We're being stalked!" barked Sean, steely hair whipping around his face. "Defensive formations, now! Wands out!"

Michael pulled out his wand, his eyes flashing. "I'm taking that thing out. Can't have a Gate here, can we?" Before anyone could stop him, he had sprinted out of the circle and at the gate, his wand upraised against the maelstrom. The torrent of green wind swooped towards him, but he was faster--he screamed something in a language no one recognized, his wand steady. The gate went briefly red--

A flash of somewhere beyond the Gate--darkness and the writhing flames and so much screaming, so many people screaming--

--then exploded outwards, the gibbering green wind dissolving with it.

Michael flew through the air, then suddenly hit something--the air behind him seemed to have gone suddenly hard and sharp. With a sickening thunk, the invisible blade punched through his back and exited his stomach, leaving gaping red holes, wet and glistening.

"Stupid man," said the disembodied voice again, this time thick with anger. "That was a favorite toy of mine you just destroyed." Michael's eyes went wide; he seemed to be trying to say something, but couldn't muster up the breath. His face went slack--he was dead.

"Who are you?" screamed Aoine into the sudden silence that had returned with the destruction of the gate. The five remaining wizards had backed into a circle, wands in the defensive positions in front of their hearts.

A cold, cruel laugh echoed from the shadows. "Imperio!"

Padraic suddenly whipped out of the circle, his eyes blank and empty. He was raising his wand, pointing it towards Aoine, no expression on his handsome face. Aoine gasped, trying to fumble for a spell, but Nuala's reflexes were quicker. She was a Hit Wizard; she killed the enemy. That was her only task. And her training made her thoughtless: "Avada Kedavra!"

Without a word, Padraic crumpled onto the ground, his wand falling to the earth.

"No!" screamed Nuala, realizing what she'd done, her mind blank, her entire body trembling. "No, not Padraic, no..." she moaned helplessly. I did this...

Before anyone could stop her, she'd pushed her own wand up against her temple--whispered something--and then she, too, tumbled into a heap on the ground.

"Damn it," said Niamh curtly. "I knew this place was all wrong. It's more than just the children."

"Show yourself!" Aoine commanded, trying to hide the shakiness in her body, her throat hoarse.

"As you like," said the voice lazily. The mist coalesced--it seemed to be forming the shape of a body...and then it ripped apart, like paper, and revealed the man standing there. Tall, darkly handsome, he appeared to be in his forties or fifties; the black curly hair was graying around the edges. His eyes, incongruous with the human attractiveness of the rest of his face, were a bright, glowing red. Aoine felt a dull, throbbing pain in the back of her throat.

The man smiled mirthlessly, a terrifying expression that didn't reach the hypnotic eyes. "End of the line, my dear Commander. I spent a good deal of time on that Gate." He gestured, carelessly, at Michael's bleeding corpse, still hanging in midair. "He had the stink of the Sidhe on him. No one else could have taken out a construction of mine...and I thought...but he was only a man, and a poor example of one at that. I hate fathers who don't care about their children."

"What do you want?" Niamh demanded; her bearing, even cornered, was still queenly.

He turned those awful eyes on her. "Ah, another with the Sidhe-stench on them. You shouldn't have meddled so much, Old One. You know what I'm after."

Aoine stared at her comrade. Old One?

A weary, defeated look came into Niamh's impossibly blue eyes. "The Elemental vessels."

"Niamh," said Sean quietly, his voice still steady, "what are you talking about?"

"Yes," hissed the man, sibilantly. "Precisely. All the Gates, opening at my command...I thought that sacrificing the children would be enough, but it looks as though I'll have to get the vessels themselves, not just their future acolytes...And as for the Gates...Luckily for me, the one you've just wrecked had already been tested...and I'm going to try out the effectiveness of the creatures I acquired within it on you, Old One. The other two..." His cold face flickered for a moment. "You'll be a warning."

"My God," whispered Niamh. "Then you're..."

"Niamh!" screamed Aoine. "Tell me what's going on!" But Niamh's eyes were fixed on their captor, enigmatic and unmoving.

"Yes." The smile grew slightly more sinister. "But you can call me Voldemort." He swept an elaborate bow, then stood up, raising his wand high. Something was moving in the mist...there was a swishing of long cloaks...Aoine's ears were ringing now, and she could hear something like a voice, a voice that sounded almost like her dead husband's...the man--Voldemort--was speaking again.

"I'm certain you'll appreciate these constructs, Old One. Soul-suckers...drawn from the depths of our neighbor worldgate. They won't kill you...this is something far, far worse..."

The cloaks had come closer. Her husband's voice now clear, Aoine could see what looked like a dark wall of cloth, breathing in slow rattles...

"Aoine! Help me! There are too many of them..."

And then her own voice, echoing everything she had heard on the afternoon he'd died, when all his defenses as an Auror had failed him and she hadn't been able to get there in time. "I can't, Aaron! I can't..." The wall of cloaks moved in closer. One of them reached for Niamh, who was trembling furiously, unable even to defend herself. It was pushing back its cowl...

"Aaron! Oh God, Aaron, can you hear me? Aaron, oh Aaron, noooo..."

No...