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The world's a bubble and the Life of Man
Less than a span
In his conception wretched, from the womb
So to the tomb
Curst from his cradle and brought up to years
With cares and fears
Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.
|Life-Francis Bacon|
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Part 6- The Meet of Mages
Dumbledore's office...
Albus Dumbledore cast Celeste a quick glance. "Where did you get that? The use of Time-Turners is strictly governed." He said sharply, with a slight twinkle in his eye.
Celeste laughed. "Oh, Albus, you're a failure as a Ministry rule stickler. I didn't steal it, I made it myself."
"Impressive...I didn't know you were that advanced." Dumbledore smiled.
"Albus, I have invented the Draught of Eternal Youth, a Time-Turner is nothing to me."
"Now, Celeste, it should work theoretically, but in practice...?" He glanced out of the window. "But a Time-Turner is a Metallurgists domain..."
"Much useful knowledge comes from unlicensed Alchemy. Pity it's outlawed." She said, unconcernedly.
"A very fine line between genius and lunacy." Dumbledore mumbled, chuckling. Celeste perked up.
"I heard that, Albus! But I was born an Alchemist, Azkaban wouldn't change that! The Ministry simply wouldn't see beyond my age when I applied for a license!" Dumbledore sighed.
"I won't argue. Come, we have work to do. I think we should talk to Draco."
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One of the deserted rooms outside the Great Hall...
"You want to what?"
"I want to marry you."
Draco swallowed and sat down on his bed. "Ah." He said, weakly. "Parry, um, we haven't been together in years...besides, I don't love you."
"Love." Parthenope laughed. "Love?, Draco darling? How delightfully quaint! Merely liking is far better"
"Eh?" The polished veneer of suavity was gone from his fearful face.
"It is impossible to love and be wise." She said, smiling.
"Francis Bacon." Murmured Draco instinctively. "But what has that got to do with-..."
"Listen." She interrupted. "You and I together can marshal an army rival to all. Draco, the Wizard War will be our victory. Your Dragonstaff and the Dragons, my Voice and the Armies of the Undead."
"I don't care for world domination, really." He said, brushing his hair back nervously.
"You're a Slytherin, of course you do." Draco cursed under his breath. "Besides, you can only choose Dumbledore and Potter or the Dark Lord."
"I side, Parthenope, with Hermione." He said, in a tight voice.
"Ah, the little MudBlood? That means you side with Dumbledore and, correct me if I'm wrong, I don't think you care for him or his multitudes of Muggles." Draco's hands started to shake.
Bloody hell, she can read me like a freaking book. Just keep in cool, remember what father said. Never let your enemies see what you are feeling. You love Mia. You love her. He told himself, calming outwardly.
"That's what will happen. Close your eyes to it if you can, you simply don't belong in that world. Nor do you belong in a world of servile worship of the Lord. Make your own world Draco." She smiled innocently, knowing each word tossed doubt into his turbulent mind.
"I have my own world. I just won't take sides." He said, clinging to a shred of obstinacy.
"Now, Draco, you have made me quite irritated. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to do this, but..." She took a deep breath and spoke in a pleasant tone. "Marry me or I'll join Voldemort and wreak havoc on the Muggles , kill your little girlfriend like her parents and bury her along with your mother and sister who, trust me on this, won't die such an honourable or quick death."
Draco blanched. "But I love her." He said, in a strangled tone."
"If one judges love by the majority of it's effects, it is more like hatred than friendship." She smiled again, and her voice dripped sickly sweet. "You don't have to decide now...tell me later, sweet...discuss it with Granger. Toodles!" She said, winking and pecking him on the cheek.
Draco watched with mounting disgust and horror as she walked out the door and his sister and Dumbledore came in.
He sat down, his breath coming too fast. His head spun and thoughts rushed wildly in his mind. Flashes of the future rankled in his mind. He held his head in his hands and started to sob softly. No tears ran down his face. Tears never ran down his face.
Celeste dropped to her knees beside him. "Draco, what's wrong, please, Draco..." She said, running her fingers through his tousled hair. "You can tell us."
He looked up, his face pained. "Can I?" Then he laughed derisively. "Perfect, now I get to ask the great Albus Dumbledore for help."
Dumbledore smiled genially. "I'm not quite so bad as you think I am."
Draco looked at him intently and shook his head. "Parthenope asked me to marry her." He said, in a flat monotone.
Albus' face clouded. "I was afraid of that. Did she threaten you?"
"Of course. She'll kill Mia, Celeste and mum...and join Voldemort with her 'Armies of the Undead'." Celeste's face turned hateful. Her mouth twisted into a classic Draco snarl.
"That psychotic little wench. Wait till I get my hands around her throat." She started to get up but Draco grabbed her hand.
"You're acting like a Malfoy. Stop it."
She turned her suddenly icy eyes onto him. "Nobody messes with my family." Draco tightened his grip until he felt Celeste's muscles relax. She sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me...I-...Draco." Impulsively, she embraced him tightly.
Draco smiled somewhat sadly. She actually cares enough to be angry.
"What am I going to do? Hermione won't even talk to me, this is my problem, she's got too many of her own." Draco tugged at his spiky forelock. "I'll deal with it. She's not going to bloody come in here and wreck my life."
He looked up at them. "I need to be alone for a while. Please."
They nodded and went out the cobwebbed door. "Nox!" He muttered to his wand and the light went out. He outstretched his arms palm up in front of him.
Nodding to the right side he said. "Parthenope, my path, fame, glory, control, power, my family and Mia alive. Loneliness, as well." He turned to the left palm. "Mia- but dead, Celeste, mum and the Muggles dead. Voldemort and Parthenope against me, Potter, Weasley and the rest of the world after my blood. Loneliness here too."
He started to weigh the options in his mind but suddenly cried out. "This is not fair! What kind of shit is this." He kicked one of the rotting tables savagely and watched it crumble to dust.
He sat down on the cold floor in the darkness and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he could feel himself being sucked into another world. He relaxed and let himself be transported.
Draco found himself in a dank room, with shelves filled with books to the ceiling. The air was musty and he coughed. A single thin book sat on the centre table. He walked towards it and touched the heavily bound cover. He didn't even have to open it.
The cover gently opened itself. The first page remained blank for a second and then lines of words formed written in a delicate hand with alternating gold and silver writing.
And disregard the boundary line,
If their love is true, t'will survive,
If not, but one will remain alive,
One will become the Gold one's heir,
And one will fall into Silver's snare.
Blood of the old shall replenish the new
Blood of many for the gain of a few.
If the course they steer is of Love,
Then of the Curse they are Above.
But in the end Destruction will knell
One will stand where the other fell.
He took a step back. "What the hell book is this?" As if responding to his request, the bottom of the page swirled for a second and then words appeared. "Ye Booke of the Fates- but that's an old legend!"
"Ah, but we live in a time of legend." Draco whirled around. "The legend is true and you are mine."
Draco glanced at him skeptically. The man was tall and regal, with short slightly curly black hair and penetrating brown eyes. He had negro skin which was scarred deeply. He wore a heavy costume of black with a green scabbard. "You don't look like Salazar Slytherin."
He laughed and Draco chilled. "I'm not. That weakling Slytherin was my heir."
Draco froze from the double shock of Slytherin being named a weakling and from the fact that Slytherin followed someone else.
"Don't look so shocked. They all make the mistake of thinking that the 'Silver one' in the curse is Slytherin. Even that failure of a Tom. So I decided this time I'd better make it clear." Draco somehow felt himself believing the extraordinary words. The chill exuding from the man convinced him.
"Who are you..?" Draco bit his tongue to stop from adding a 'sir' at the end.
"Not many know me, I existed before the Destruction. In fact, I created the Destruction." Draco blanched.
The Destruction was a time of old when all the knowledge of the age was burned. Books, records...people. Everything. Time and history started over then, but nothing was known of the age before the Destruction.
"I am Lord Daemersgrale Argentus Mortragen, the Sorceror, and you are my new heir."
"The Sorceror? That's a myth!" Draco swallowed and quickly hurried on under Mortragen's glare. "But- but what about Him, you know-...Voldemort." It didn't seem right to fear Voldemort when fear incarnate stood before you. A sorceror- the Sorceror, the high dark wizard. Evil was an understatement.
"Him? Oh no, he's more Salazar's heir. I'll explain later."
"Why did you create the curse? And who's 'the Gold one'?" Mortragen looked mildly impressed.
"You catch on quite well. 'The Gold' is-was, Helaine Wrathstorme." Daemersgrale did not say anything about why.
"That means Hermione's her heir."
"Quite. But that doesn't matter." Draco shrugged.
"But...that means she's powerful, how can it not matter to you?"
"Mmmm...you think she's like Godric Gryffindor. Of course, I forgot you know nothing. You see, Helaine married the powerful one, Gravero Gryffindor. Somewhere along the way in history, Helaine's title and Gryffindor's power fused into one person. She just has Helaine's blood, no power." He hurried over the last part. "The boy called Harry Potter is Gryffindor's heir, the new Gryffindor. Things haven't taken a linear course, you see, like I told you before, since our heirs became so powerful, they can have their own heirs. So you are my heir but not my heir's heir. However my heir's heir, the 'Great Lord Voldemort," He mocked. "Is connected somewhat to me but not directly. It's complex." Daemersgrale smiled. "All that is left is for you to agree."
"You mean I have to agree for this to work?"
Mortragen smiled thoughtfully. "Yes...in theory."
"Then I'm not. I told you, not interested in your battle and never will be." Daemersgrale smiled dangerously.
"You wish to refuse what Slytherin begged for?"
"Salazar Slytherin begged for what you're offering me?" Draco was incredulous.
"Why, yes. You have much greater potential than him. Perhaps even more than me...."
"No." Draco said it quickly, before the flattery could soften his resolve.
Mortragen closed his eyes for a second. His hair started to turn iridescent silver from the roots upward. His fingernails were curved and gleaming. He opened his eyes and they gleamed, no more brown. "That's why I'm called 'the Silver one'." His voice prickled Draco's skin and constricted his throat.
Draco's heart started to beat faster. His appearance was ghastly, terrifying. Daemersgrale fixed his eyes onto Draco and glared into them. Draco felt a mild cold, tingly but not painful. He looked surprised and then impressed.
"You have one of my gifts, I see. The power to freeze people's hearts and minds. The power those traitorious Dementors stole from me. Those who have it are impervius."
"Now, to the matter of your joining me. It'll happen sooner or later, preferably with you unhurt. I am offering you another chance, another way out of this alarming mess. Keep your pet girlfriend, defeat Voldemort and ensure your family's safety. And power, too." Daemersgrale glanced at Draco.
"What do you get out of this?" Draco asked, his street-smart mind kicking in.
"Clever, Draco Argentus Malfoy." His name pronounced by those lips seemed more a curse than name. "Little Tommy Riddle's getting a little too egotistical for his own good. Forgetting to pay obeiscance to his betters."
"He's not doing your power renewal ceremonies." Draco said, the light suddenly dawning on him. "And you and Slytherin are losing your power, your curses, your deeds...everything's fading! Voldemort's taking your place in the Trident."
Draco almost laughed, the situation was so absurd. Here he was talking to the Sorceror about the three most feared controllers of Destiny. Made up, always, of the Greatest Magic-user, the Greatest Dark Magic-user and the most intelligent magic user ever. They watched over humanity and pushed the pawns. Time was inconsequential to them. In death or in Life, the magic-users that formed the Trident didn't control it, it always controlled them.
"You're more advanced in your dark arts studies than the last time I checked up on you. Astute to guess that I am of the Trident. But then, time is different in the dead plane." Draco's curiosity was piqued and fear was discarded.
"What's it like? On the dead plane?"
"'Tis being immured and ensconced in ye vile past. 'Tis eternal torture. Not one of us hath not a regret. Each is played out again and again, life slowly strangulating one's death. 'Tis but eternal, one doth 'die' following death also. 'Tis the same forsake they name it transcending." He said, sounding surprisingly ancient and tired. "Cursèd be, I am reminiscing and speaking in the old tongue. It shan't happen again. A change in the Trident causes huge changes to the fabric of reality. If I lose my place I will be immured in limbo forever. Your world shall never be the same."
"What do I have to do if I choose to be your heir?"
"Now you're talking. You don't have to kill the Muggle-borns. That was Salazar's stupidity. I judge by talent. You may not join Albus Dumbledore, though, I have no fondness for Muggles and I know you don't either. Riddle must be vanquished. It is your destiny to be great, Draco Argentus Malfoy, it must be fulfilled." Daemersgrale smiled again, a smiled that slithered into your heart and squeezed the life-blood out of it. "Achieve your ambitions."
"I don't- don't know..." Draco faltered. It's a nightmare- a nightmare...He said to himself.
"No nightmare Draco Argentus Malfoy. I will be seeing you again. Think the prospects over carefully."
"But I thought I was descended from Rowena Ravenclaw!"
"My great-granddaughter! Yes, you are. But surely you know that Salazar and Rowena were siblings, Godric and Helga were, too. I chose Salazar of course, much easier to bend to my will." Draco gulped.
"I'll think about it." Draco said weakly, willing his eyes to open.
Like an invisible hand holding him back, the Sorceror's eyes bored into him. "I'm sure you will." He said, and Draco was thrust back into his own world.
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In front of Hogwarts...
Hermione brushed the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. The pumpkin carriage was ready. This time, not to convey her to a train station filled with laughter, but a burned, desolate house and memories- oh, the memories!
It gave her physical pain to think about her parents. A dull throb that she hoped guiltily would die away. A certain queer ache when she thought about her last conversations with each of them. The heartwrenching jolt when she remembered her mother's mannerisms and realised that she would never see them again.
Hermione shivered and wished her father was there, just to hold her and tell her that things were going to be all right. She almost half believed that her mother would be waiting at home to comfort her and to remind her that anything was possible.
She even missed their dental advice.
"Look, Herm, are you sure you're all right?" Harry asked, patting her arm for the tenth time in eight minutes.
"It's a redundant question." She replied hollowly. "Of course I'm not all right."
Harry looked away, uncertain at what to say. He thought that he would be best equipped to help Hermione because of his parents, but he was wrong. he had never had to experience that loss- except with the Dementors, and even then he had known beforehand that they were dead.
Harry ran his fingers through his hair. Her grief was just so absolute. She hadn't changed clothes in days, her hair was dishevelled and she hadn't even packed properly.
It was like another person had invaded Hermione's body.
Cursing herself and feeling guilty, Hermione glanced around quickly, looking for Draco. She wasn't even sure that he would say anything to make her feel better- but she knew she wanted him there.
"Look, anything you need, we're here, okay?" Ron interrupted, his voice a little too loud.
He held her upper arm and pulled her into an embrace, patting her back. She drew away and he relinquished his hold on her reluctantly. Hermione felt suddenly resentful.
He's supposed to be helping me, not making me uncomfortable. Ron would never do that usually. She thought, and then realised the reason for his actions. Love is as strong as death, Jealousy is as cruel as the grave. God, do I have to think about death?
"I know, Ron." She replied, like an automation.
She took a deep breath and put her single bag onto the carriage and climbed on.
"Come on, Crookshanks." She called, as the ginger cat jumped on. The carriage started with a lurch. She waved to Ron and Harry till they passed around the bend and she lost sight of them.
I really thought he would come. She thought, as she started her journey home. She rummaged in her bag and found a novel. She flicked to her red and gold bookmark and started to read.
Four pages later she stopped reading. A queer clapping kind of noise could be heard above the usual rattle. Hermione started and flung the book onto the floor as she heard a rapping at her window.
With a shaking hand she opened the curtains and flung open the window. Her first reaction was surprise, shock and then bewilderment.
"Draco?" She said incredulously.
"Yup, yours truly. I missed you at school so I thought I'd ride by." He rubbed the neck of his Dragon. Hermione took out her wand and muttered the spell to stop the carriage.
*Slow up Alyewn.*
"Where did you pick up the outfit?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting her troubles.
"Hagrid. Was very helpful." Hermione looked over Draco in his black suede trousers, Slytherin green sweatshirt with chainmail over it, green Dragonhide gloves and black leather boots with green lining. He looked as if he belonged, especially with his staff. He wore no head-protection over his hair, now as unruly as Harry's.
Draco looked away from her and there was a smile playing on his lips; a smile of the sheer joy of DragonRiding and Hermione felt a chill. By Gryffindor, he looks so much like Harry. She thought.
He jumped down and looked up at her. Hermione giggled down at him as he stretched his arm up for hers.
"What's so funny?" Draco asked, irately. His big entrance hadn't evinced the awe he had expected; his ego needed some salve.
"This just reminds me of, you know, the Balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet." Draco allowed himself a small smile at Hermione's thought.
"Wanna make your own? Draco and Hermione's pumpkin-carriage scene?" She laughed out loud and then suddenly stopped. Her guilt for forgetting could be felt in the air.
"I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you. It's just so much has happened- and it's all my fault." Hermione stepped down from the carriage and Draco held her hand.
"Nothing-" He said, his eyes blazing a chilling fire. "Nothing- is your fault. In this if nothing else Voldemort has lost an ally."
Draco said it unconsciously, not even realising that he had acknowledged himself as a High Wizard. Someone that Voldemort and others would want as an ally- a powerful ally.
Hermione glanced up, noticing it. "An ally?"
"Forget that." My problems can wait. He thought. "Look, Mia, I know it's always hardest for the survivors of life, so I just came to tell you this one thing. Please just remember it." She nodded and he leaned closer.
"In grief, bend- but do not break." He whispered and kissed her softly. "Send me an owl."
He climbed onto Alyewn before she could say a word and was gone.
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The Vidya Institute for the Gifted, Principal's office
"Look-...Chaos, is it? Ahem, well, it is quite impossible for you to be a healer. You know that healing is such a volatile magic that the merest touch of the person could be fatal. Healers died out." Vidya explained gently.
"I can't harness my power yet. That's why I am completely covered. I thought at least you would see the truth."
"But you're lying! Isn't it obvious? Go ahead then, prove it, touch me without your gloves." Jay said, impatiently.
"It's not that. I-I told you, since I don't know how to control it, I might pull out your life-force." Jay looked disbelieving.
"Fine, I'm willing to take the chance. Go ahead or we won't help you. Heal this." He showed her a deep cut on his forearm. "Got it this morning." Chaos lip trembled and her fingers twitched.
Slowly, she pulled the glove off her right hand. The air around it started to crackle and pop alarmingly. Jay licked his lips, suddenly apprehensive. Chaos closed her eyes and squeezed, a few tears, crystalline and sparkling, trickled down her face, contorted with pain. She swallowed and seemed to draw into herself.
She opened them again, and they were slits like a cat's eyes. The air hissed softly and then stopped crackling. With infinite caution she touched him softly on his forehead.
For a second, the room was still then suddenly force like an explosion ripped through. The lights went out. All the energy in the air seemed to be pulled into the centre of the room. An aura of white-blue light illuminated Chaos. The air swirled around her, ripping books from off the shelves and upturning chairs.
Javed suddenly convulsed, gasping. The light shifted from Chaos to Jay, travelling downwards till it reached his arm. The light intensified and then melted away slowly. He relaxed and opened his eyes.
Chaos almost smiled when suddenly her body jerked. A gasp was wrenched from her lips as Jay's eyes widened with fear. Chaos fingers shook as Jay started to glow faintly red. The light pulsed and converged into one point. Slowly, reluctantly it travelled to the point where Chaos fingers brushed his head.
Chaos jerked again, as the light started to transfer from his body to hers. Kaveri yelled.
Chaos turned to them. "Please...help." She breathed. "Get her off him, people, come on!" With quick reflexes she grasped Chaos waist and threw her halfway accross the room. It was made easier by the fact that Chaos had put her weight into it too.
The light pulsed quicker and then melted into Jay's skin. He opened his eyes and looked around. With an agile bound he leapt to his feet and flexed his fingers.
"I've never felt better in my entire life!" He exclaimed, lifting his sleeve to display the cut. The skin was smooth. "It's gone..."
Every head in the room turned to look at Chaos. She had slipped on her glove and was clutching her hand tightly. She was breathing heavily, but still managed to smile.
"Nice tackle." She nodded to Kaveri, rubbing her spine.
"What do you want from us? We can teach you nothing." Vidya said quickly, an undercurrent of respect in her tone.
"You have the most extensive libraries about Magical Talents. As you saw, my power controls me. The ancient books might be of some use. With the MageWar coming, my power will be sorely needed. You will also be my liason to the world. My home is Unplottable and fortified. If any wish to find me, you will direct them as you see fit." Her voice carried authority.
"Now wait a minute, something must also be done in return." Cyrus said. Chaos smiled.
"I will teach your students basic healing. When they join the war it will be a great asset." Vidya banged the table and knocked her tea-mug onto the paper-strewn floor.
"No!" She said, vehemently. "These people- especially the children- are not going to war! They must be spared the agony. I forbid it!"
"They are of great value to both sides."
"I will not allow them to die."
Chaos regarded her critically. "Is that not their own choice? Besides that, this is a War to end all Wars. This will change the way we live. If the Dark Side wins, you will not be safe wherever you hide."
Vidya's shoulders slumped. She gestured lifelessly. "The library's that way, Jay will show you."
As Jay and Chaos walked out of the room, he suddenly stopped and glanced at her.
"Chaos, will you answer one question truthfully?"
"Truth is merely a perspective." He waved his hand impatiently.
"When you took off your glove...why were there tears in your eyes?" Chaos regarded him briefly.
"The reason I cover my skin is twofold- Jay-, one is to protect others. The other, main reason is to protect myself. You see, I can feel suffering." Her lip trembled and her voice was raspy and low. "You have no idea what the pain of the entire world feels like."
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The International Wizarding Organisation for Peace, Geneva
The main Ministers for Magic, aides and other powerful magic-users sat around the table. The table was quite small, considering the fact that it would decide the future of the Wizarding World.
Ten men and women.
From Britain, Cornelius Fudge, the ineffectual figurehead of power. Percival Weasley, his advisor, fair but stern in his way. Albus Dumbledore, the only creature Voldemort was fearful of.
From America, Michael Booth, the typical gregarious politician. Jenny Candon, leader of the Anti-Dementor/Deatheater sect.
From Russia, Tatanya Orvalov, sharp and decisive.
From Italy, Roberto Danellini, new to the game of power.
From India, Vina Deshpande, enigmatic to say the least.
From China, Tsi-Yung Chang, quiet but intelligent.
And last of all, the co-ordinator, a man known only as Georg.
Around the table, each mind was going over it's own interests and anxieties. Each mind was also preoccupied by the eleventh chair, sitting empty, around the large table.
"I say." Fudge spoke up rather squeakily. "I say, is this really necessary, I mean-..."
"Obviously, Fudge." Tatanya said with disdain. "In a war both sides must meet."
Georg was about to say something when the air started to shimmer, the sign of someone about to Apparate.
"He is here." He said, simply.
The air condensed.
In the eleventh chair sat the Dark Lord Voldemort.
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