Night and Day;
Snake and Lion
A/n: I am terribly sorry that this is up so late! The modem and Internet access on my computer is screwed. I have to wait to post this and hope you will accept my apologies. The chapter is extra long for you. I will go for fifteen pages… I hope you like this chapter, as I don't know if it'll be good enough. I hope you review this afterwards.
And of course, Dyfan (pronounced Die-Fan *.*) is mine. It is Welsh for Tribe Ruler. Kind of befitting, don't you think?
And, also, the name Donella (pronounced Dawn-Ella) is mine. It is Celtic for Dark-Haired Elfin Girl.
Disclaimer: I own everything you don't recognise! If you do, then it obviously isn't mine. I just dream that I own everything. But it is a very good dream ^^! The assassin is mine! All mine! Mmwwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah! Clears Throat Umm… yeah…
I do not pretend to own the poems in this chapter. I can't rightly remember where I saw them, as I had written them down a few weeks ago for a chapter or two of mines to add somewhere. I don't own anything in this chapter really… I don't even pretend to! So you can't sue me for anything…
Farewell, My Friends
Chapter Three
He stealthily crept up the sloping hill towards the castle. The castle had many twisting towers looming over and above him. The walls, though old in age, were solid enough to continue standing. It was an amazing sight and one that would welcome many students. It was a school. But not just any school.
This one held a medieval air about it. It was a school of magic. The teachers there were Witches and Wizards. They taught others, like themselves, all the arts of magic. All, of course, except Dark Arts.
This school was Hell bent against that magic. He prided himself in going to a worthier school that would strengthen all his talents. He had graduated and become the most known eliminator in all of Europe. They didn't call him The Slayer for nothing. Without moving anything out of place he used the Fox Trot to quickly and silently get into the school.
He didn't go directly into the school; the main way. Of course, no one but teachers, students, and those asked would be let in unless they used a Secret Entrance. Walking along the stone wall he walked a few feet, counting them like he was told to do. After the fifth foot, he stopped and turned to face the wall straight ahead. Going in a precise and slow pace he tapped one brick, another, another, and a last one.
There was a lull silence and then surprising movement occurred. The brick stones began to rumble, much like the ones in Diagon Alley, and shake. A little dust sprinkled off of the stones. Suddenly the bricks began melting away, making a vortex shaped circle, and getting larger and larger. Enough that a half-giant would be able to fit through without stooping.
He waited a few seconds, to be sure, before scurrying in. Excitement bubbled within him, straining to break out like champagne in a bottle and a cork blocking it. The excitement of the kill. Of the life seeping out in front of him. He almost let out a cackle.
He was glad that the Dark King had hired him. To kill someone as important as the Boy-Who-Lived was a rousing feeling. He would finally be able to leave a very lasting mark on the World. The Dark King had allowed him any choice in how to kill the thorn in his side, but he only had but this night to do it. If he failed, the consequences were clear.
He heard the vortex hole closing and he walked swiftly down the passage. No torches lit his way. No Inner Light of the castle helped him. Suddenly he came upon a hideous wooden totem pole mask. The mouth was slightly ajar.
Lifting out a slow hand he slipped his fingers in the mouth and, tightening his grip on the lower lip, he pulled down hard. The mouth, not wanting to drop, came down weakly rustic. The mouth, after hitting the ground, was a huge gapping hole. It held a hidden flight of steps, leading upwards. He stepped in, climbing upwards in the pitch dark stairway passage.
An Assassin never needed light in the dark when he used his keen animal-like senses. He could see everything as if he was looking at it in broad daylight.
A giddy feeling was mounting in his chest, pressing to be set free and let loose. Frivolous thoughts flashed in his mind. Other ways to kill the boy. But he had the most effective way right of his belt. He ran a hand down to feel if the dagger was still in place, being careful not to touch the blade.
It had multiple of poisons soon to be brought in contact with the boy. He was pretty sure he knew which bed he was in. If he was anything like his father he was positive of the location. He couldn't second-guess his instincts now though. Up one flight of stairs, down another, right, right, then left in some corridors.
Up a secret passage. One more corridor now. The giddy feeling started to pulse. The thrill of the hunt. The unsuspecting victim and the joy of the fear, strong, and hanging in the air. He then was standing in front of the sleeping Fat Lady, portrait guardian of Gryffindor Tower…
~*~*~*~
A slow grin appeared on Draco's face, warmth and all. The first real smile he allowed them to ever see. No hesitation came now as he energetically pumped the Headmasters hand as the magical contract bound to their souls, making it impossible for him to break it. Harry grinned at him affably. Professor Dumbledore and Draco let their hands drop and Dumbledore became serious.
"You do understand what the risks entail Draco? That this is deadly dangerous?" Professor Dumbledore asked gravely. Draco nodded, all exuberance evaporating. Harry, too, became businessman-like. They began hatching a plan to make the spy part more believable.
Then about an hour after two they left; Professor Dumbledore planning to tell Severus of the plan. Harry and Draco walked wondrously down the halls, talking and laughing, but making sure to dodge any person, ghost or Professor, etc.
"…And she was watching you? Thank God I'm not a male Perfect! I would had hollered for all I was worth!" Draco said in between hoots and chortles. Harry's face was lit up like a Christmas Tree.
"It wasn't that funny! I thought I had almost died!" Harry said in mock-anger. Draco positively cackled.
"That might've led her to fancy you more! I wonder what the Prophets would read. 'Potter Floats For Ghost!' maybe." Harry turned redder as more sniggers came from the pale boy.
"That's not even funny!" Harry shot back, now the most scarlet shade of red a human could possibly go. They soon stopped talking and waved each other goodbye, deciding it was time to sleep. Harry knew, and now so did Draco, where the Slytherin Common Rooms were. Harry went to the Fat Lady. She was gone.
Cursing slightly he sighed in frustration and slide down the wall, seating himself on the floor, planning to wait until the Fat Lady returned. Slowly he started to fall asleep, not even knowing that the Fat Lady had saved him from death, although unknowingly. Sleep he did unto morning when he was shaken awake by a grim Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. Confusion lit his face. What had happened? He thought in total bewilderment.
"Harry. What are you doing out here?" Professor McGonagall asked in a forbidding voice. Harry gulped before answering in a worried voice. Thoughts ran through his brain, trying to figure out what to say. Professor Dumbledore knew the real reason he was out of bed last night, but he didn't think Professor McGonagall did. Suddenly a white lie came to him.
"I came back after meeting with you Headmaster about extra studying and the Fat Lady was gone. I decided to wait for her but I must have fallen asleep. Why? What happened? Is everyone alright?" Harry said, chancing a quick glance to Professor Dumbledore whom gave a slight nod to him before looking back at his Head of House.
"Potter. There's no way to say this lightly. But, last night around one, someone broke into Gryffindor Tower, though we are unsure of how. But it seems that the person was planning to either attack or kill you. He, though, on the accident attacked Ronald Weasley—" Professor McGonagall started. Harry interrupted though with a shout of horror.
"WHAT?! Is he okay? Where is he? Do you know who did it? Can I see him please?" Harry said rapidly.
Professor McGonagall's face turned from grim to sorrowful. Harry had a bad feeling about what he was about to find out. She paused for a second, seeming to collect her thoughts before answering.
"Harry. The attacker killed Ron. His throat slit, and organs taken out. He died rather painfully. But it seems he was able to write something in his blood without the Assassin to notice.
"It read: Assassin was searching for Har— And then it cuts off. I'm so sorry Harry." She whispered to the frozen Harry. His face was blank of emotion. His mouth slightly open, a hollow look in his dulled green eyes.
"Leave me." Harry suddenly said quietly. Professor Dumbledore put a calming hand on the young man's shoulder for comfort but Harry violently shook it off. A sneer covered his face. "LEAVE ME!" He roared. Professor McGonagall jumped back and practically ran away. But Professor Dumbledore looked at him pitifully.
"Are you sure Harry?" He quietly said, taking a step back. Harry snarled at the olden wizard.
"Let me be!" He barked. Then he held his arms close before throwing them up as an energy wave threw back the Headmaster. He fell to the ground rather hard and when he sat straight up again and looked at the spot where Harry was, it was empty of any person, and especially Harry Potter…
~*~*~*~
Hate seared through his blood. He couldn't believe it. To get the chance to leave a mark on the world, and screwing it up just as easily. He knew he had then right bed. But why had that other boy been in it.
Why did he have to have woken up?! Why couldn't he had stayed asleep and not have woken the whole Tower with that echoing shout? Why had he had to use a spell to kill the little bugger instead of being able to do it by hand? Damnation! The Slayer thought as he plopped harshly down onto the motel rundown bed. Sneering at his surroundings he cursed his mishap.
He was surrounded by Muggle possessions, hiding out from the heat until he could go back to the Dark King to tell of his calamity. He was so close!
"Damn that Potter! Damn him, damn him, and damn him! I swear that I shall come back for him. I'll get him for this. And I'll kill him nice and slow, and as he's withering in pain and wishing to die, I'll give him the final blow to his heart!" The Slayer said in a positively seething voice.
He grabbed a glass vase from the Muggle coffee table and, with all his might, threw the budvase to the wall. He watched it shatter into millions of tiny little pieces on impact and fall to the ground in shattering remnants. He then sat back down and stare at the broken pieces for hours, silence surrounding the killer. Hours later he knew he would have to contact his master before doing anything else. Grovelling wasn't one of his favourite pass times, but it would be necessary to not be killed right away and to retime it.
For he knew he was to die, as he had failed his mission. But he was going to go out with a bang. He would have to beg to keep his mission and then go back to be killed himself, though how unfair that it was. It was the code of many an Assassin. And he was going out with a bang.
One way or another…
~*~*~*~
Harry stared blankly out at the distant mountains nearest to Hogwarts. He sat on a ledge and right next to a gruesome gargoyle. The wind whipped his hair slightly and stung his cheeks. It was, at first, hard to breathe because of the altitude, but now he was fine. It was now dark out and the stars lit the Heavens.
The moon, a quarter full, was the brightest thing in the sky. It was peaceful up here. Quiet. Nothing interrupted him hear where he could grieve in peace. But his face was emotionless.
Memories danced within his mind and out of his reach. Thoughts of his best friend raced through his blank eyes. He had been Harry's first Best Friend. The staunch friend of the Trio. Hermione had been the smartest, but was also loyal, but Ron had, unless he counted out the Goblet and the Triwizard Tournament, been the most fiercely loyal of them.
They had practically become brothers. What one had became the others. What one needed, the other would provide. They had even, out of pure stupidity, become blood brothers. Sharing their powers and magic with each other.
They had been practically inseparable. They had even planned out that the other would be the Best Man at each of their weddings. Ron had even made a long-standing bet that he would one day join the family by marriage. Harry had been so embarrassed by that comment. They had not once seen eye to eye on their Quidditch National Teams, but they had tried.
Harry even had Ron's Birthday present in his trunk, waiting for the month to be over to be opened. Something that would never be opened by the intended person. It had been a shrunken trunk full of things about, signed from, and given from the Cannons. Harry had been hoping…
Suddenly he disappeared again and reappeared next to the forest. He had no clue how he was doing this, but he was doing it anyways. Over the busy two summers, ever since he had learned his father had once been one; he had secretly been studying to become an Animagus. He had hoped that after he learned it he could teach Hermione and Ron. He changed with a slight 'pop' into a wolf.
The fur of the wolf was black as the night, even if he was a normal Grey Wolf, but still held a pure essence around it. He was six feet long and still had the emerald green eyes he had normally. He was and felt very powerful in this form. He looked mournfully up at the night sky, deciding to pay tributes to his forever gone human pack mate. He rose his head straight to the sky and let out a desolate wail.
Howls of the anguish, pain, and misery he felt lifted into the sky, the silent night filling with the lone howls of the wolf. It was his night to give his best comrade the best howls he could give, to symbolise the lose and unfortunate end. After a while he just tore off into the woods, racing away from the pain he felt in the one place he had found so much joy in. Howls still followed the retreating wolf into the night and until dawn…
~*~*~*~
Ginny Weasley had never thought the day would come when her brother closest to her age would die. The thought had never even occurred to her. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying like a waterfall. Even now tears were making their way down her face. It was the day of the funeral and she wasn't sure if she would make it through the day.
Classes had been cancelled for the week for mourning. The Slytherin's seemed to be happy of the death, though she had noticed that Malfoy had been almost half-heartedly trying to hurt the Gryffindor's feelings. Harry, she knew, wasn't taking it any better than herself. She had seen him walk around for days with a blank stare, saying nothing and not eating, speaking, or whatnot. She had started spending her time down by the lake late at night and had noticed the howls in the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione had taken it rather harsh, sobbing for hours until they had finally just slipped a sleeping potion in her tea. She, herself, two days ago, had been sedated until this morning. Though no one noticed a change in her face or eyes from what they had been. Though, now she wasn't as hysterical. Her mother was still sedated, as she was on the verge of suicide when she had found out.
Her father only had an anguished face on, nothing more, nothing less.
Seamus was the first to speak of Ron. He gave an Old Irish toast to his friend.
"May you have food and raiment. A soft pillow for your head. May you be forty years in heaven, before the devil knows you're dead." And he had then told of some of the fun times they had all shared, and their differences in Quidditch Teams. A sad grin was on his face.
Next was the Headmaster and he gave a little speech.
"Remember this. Death, is but the next adventure. Some people come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never the same. Ronald Weasley did this. But remember that the human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it.
"And remember that Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because dawn has come. He will always be remembered as fiercely loyal to his companions and the best Chess Master that this school will ever know. He was taken from us too early, but his memory will live on through us. Somehow I feel that he knew this would one day happen as we have found a written poem from him himself. It reads:
"It was beautifulAs long as it lasted
The journey of my life
I have no regrets
Whatsoever save
The pain I'll leave behind
Those dear hearts
Who love and care
And the heavy with sleep
Ever moist eyes
The smile in spite of a
Lump in the throat
And the strings pulling
At the heart and soul
The strong arms
That held me up
When my own strength
Let me down
Each morsel that I was
Fed with was full of love
At every turning of my life
I came across
Good friends
Friends who stood by me
Even when the time raced me by.
Farewell
Farewell
My friends
I smile and
Bid you goodbye
No, shed no tears
For I need them not
All I need is your smile
If you feel sad
Do think of me
For that's what I'll like
When you live in the hearts
Of those you love
Remember then…
You never die.
"Look for me when the tide is high
And the gulls are wheeling overhead
When the autumn wind sweeps the cloudy sky
And one by one the leaves are shed
Look for me when the trees are bare
And the stars are bright in the frosty sky
When the morning mist hangs on the air
And shorter darker days pass by.
I am there, where the river flows
And salmon leap to a silver moon
Where the insects hum and the tall grass grows
And sunlight warms the afternoon
I am there in the busy street
I take you hand in the city square
In the market place where the people meet
In your quiet room – I am there
I am the love you cannot see
And all I ask is – look for me
"Death is nothing at all….. I have only slipped away into the next room, I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no differences into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Let my name be the household name that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without the ghost of a shadow on it. Life means all that is ever meant. It is the same as it always was. There is absolutely unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you for an interval somewhere very near… just around the corner All is well."
Not a dry eye was there after that. Ginny was wailing again, but it was her turn to say something. She stood and walked up, still crying, but silently now. She turned around on the podium and looked out at all the Weasleys, a few Ministry workers, friends and a few teachers. No one else had been allowed to the funeral, as it had been a private affair. She gulped and slightly stuttered.
"M-my b-brother was th-the closest t-to my age. N-n-no one wo-wo-would have thought t-that th-this would ever happen. Well, it has. I loved Ron. He always was the most protective of me and at times it was irksome, but now I look back and find it endearing to know he cared so much.
"It grieves me to have to do this now. When he was only a Fifth Year student. No one knows who did it. But I swear on my brother's newfound grave that I will find and kill the bastard that did this. This is all I have to say." Ginny said, and walked away.
She had started in the speech to get more violent and angry, stopping her stuttering. She walked most like Professor Snape, surprisingly. No sound or voice tried to stop her. No one called out to her to wait for them. They just silently let her on her way.
~*~*~*~
She looked at the Elder Centaur in shock and hurt.
"You mean to say that I am not really human?! How could you lie to me? I thought you cared for me! How could you do this to me Dyfan and not think I would care if I weren't human? I thought that since everyone was different then I was normal growing up!
"I've been lied to my whole life!!" She practically screamed him in his face. They had been in the middle of a debate on the Snake and Lion coming here when it had somehow gotten out of the Centaur that she wasn't human. Though how one thing evolved from the debate to if she was human or not was unknown to all at that moment. Dyfan, who had been the one to take her into the family, looked at her mournfully.
"I am sorry, Donella, but we had to keep the truth from you! It was and still is essential that you didn't know. You are an Elf, which is all I can say. The Elfin family you originated from was killed in trying to protect you from the Dark King. You were to grow up to train from us, that is why you were found so close near us.
"We were to train you on all our ways and about War. It was foretold that you were to help train two other's, and I know you know they are to come soon. You are to train them in the arts of War and the Mage. They are to save the world from the Dark King. They need to grow into their powers.
"After a few weeks of training you are to take them to the Elfin Tribe. They are to learn more from there. I am sorry that you were caught in between this, but your part is essential to the War. Donella, you know I love you with all my heart, and I'm proud of you. But you must understand why we did what we did.
"Can you? Please?" Dyfan pleaded dolefully. Donella sighed and nodded. She then stood on tiptoe to kiss the Centaurs cheek. She smiled, however, a bit sadly.
She then turned and walked out of the room, going to her private little hut. She walked into the one-room lean-to and looked around. A bed of hay was in one corner, looking ever so welcoming. On another side was a large flat stone. It was used as a table or chair, depending on ones needs.
On another side was a pier glass. The edges were sharp and dangerous from being broken there, but it was functional. She walked closer to it, examining herself closer than ever she did before. Like most Centaurs, she wore nothing, but a skirt-like thing made from hay braided and folded into a skirt. She needn't worry about a shirt as it was normal.
She about six feet tall and had almost olive coloured skin. Her hair was down to her hips and black as midnight. Her eyes were brown as the earth and she had slightly pointed ears, sticking out in view. Her lips were red as the rose and full. She was petite in body form, though her height made her willowy.
Her nose was a little too perfectly centred, but fine. She was told she was beautiful like the world, but whenever when she was young and told this she didn't understand. She was only three when brought here and she remembered none of it. She was now twenty-eight in human years, but was proud of it. She had been brought here earlier before James Potter and Lily Evans had been sent into hiding, as far as she knew.
She sighed and went to her bed with a nymph yawn. She knew a few Tree Nymphs, and they played together a lot. They were more airy in the head than she would like, but… They had taught her more about trees than she would like, but she had still loved them for it. She was also friends' with the neighbouring Werewolves, Imps, and Pixies.
She had learned from all of her friends.
She was especially attached to the Unicorns.
Sighing she walked to her bed and slipped into the hay comfortably, glad to have so normality. She last thoughts before drifting off to the beautiful cloud number nine for sleep was:
"Farewell friends. It looks like I won't be able to visit for a while…"
~*~*~*~
The wolf looked over out from the safety of the woods. He had told them that he had been unable to stay any longer after the first speech. He whined sadly as he watched Ginny leave after giving her oath. He might not stay as human, but he would at least stay as a wolf. The wolf in him told him he should be howling for all to hear to pay tribute to the lost pack mate, but his rational mind told the other that it would make them go out searching.
He promised to howl later though. He was lying down with his head in between his paws and keeping out of sight. His green eyes held too much pain and the tears fell, though it was unusual for a wolf to cry. He then suddenly had the need to leave once again. He sat up quickly and started to trot away, going deeper into the Weasley's Woods.
He knew it had to be partly magical as he had sworn he'd seen an Imp and maybe even an Elf. They had paid him no held though, only the Imp stopped to comfort him. He got the sense that they were sort of dull in the brain. But it had been nice being scratched behind the ears and shushed to get him to relax. He was now making his way into a middle of a clearing were he laid down, to just change back.
He threw his face down to the ground, sobs breaking through his blocked throat. Tears ran down like rain upon his cheeks.
He laid there for hours, trying to get the sorrow out…