Chapter Six: Celestial Illumination
Written by Elluxion
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I took down chapter six and posted it again. The reason being was that I had completely zero reviews. I worked very hard on this chapter and I want to hear your comments. It's very disillusioning and discouraging for me to log on every day to find that reviews are absent. I know that this is unfair, but I really do count on reviews to keep me going - it's really depressing for me. Guys, even if you hate this chapter, please for God's sake, tell me why! Thanks. Hugs and cookies, -John Mayer, Your Body Is A Wonderland. "Yes, that's it. Now hook one leg over the side... right. Settle yourself in properly. Okay, good. Now grip the broom with both hands, one in front of the other... no, lean forward a bit. You're doing fine, Hermione. All right... now point the broomstick upwards at a slight angle." Shakily, the broomstick began to rise, wavering in the air. Hermione's face was tense, stretched taut, as it brought her about five feet off the ground. "Relax," Draco urged. "Why don't you get on your broom, and then tell me to relax," Hermione snapped back, stiff and frightened. She brought the broom just a little higher, then levelled it out after she was ten feet away from the snow-studded grass. Cautiously, she brought the broom forward and back, left to right, getting used to the odd, jerking motions. Carefully she nudged it into wide, gentle, sweeping motions, feeling her body adjust. "How the hell does Harry do this, day in, day out?" she asked, but her bitterness had already given way to something that could be described as curiosity. Draco couldn't help but smile slightly. Hermione's look of fear had melted into one of exhilaration as she discovered the joy of flying. She was no natural, but she wielded the task of learning how to fly with admirable calmness. With a shrug, he swung a leg over his broom and kicked off smoothly. He was at Hermione's side in a blur, his body lithe and graceful in flight. Draco, indeed, had talent when it came to flying, and he was built for it: a lean body, long legs, the sense of balance. Languidly, he lingered in the air as the setting sun illuminated Hermione's profile. Draco watched her learn, taking note of the uncannily graceful, almost regal movements, like a dancer's. Hermione was no longer the snappish, hot-tempered Head Girl at Hogwarts: she was a young woman now, and Draco sometimes couldn't shake that thinking off. Nine years. It had been nine years since the word Mudblood slipped past his lips at Hogwarts. The old enmity had faded away: Draco was no longer the bitter, angsty teenager eagerly searching for trouble; Hermione was no longer the awkward, tall Head Girl stumbling at nearly every step. She had conquered her temper, but the spirit and fire were still evident. It was a quality he admired in her - the steely determination to see things through to the end. One hour had passed, and the sun was dipping her head, near the horizon. Hermione's dark eyes looked up and captured his. She looked at ease now, and relaxed. She gave Draco a business-like nod, and spoke. "Let's go." ~*~ The musty warmth, the dampness, the heavy silence... the Circle of Midnight's castle and stronghold brought the words death and tomb to mind. Which was as well, Cho Chang added to herself darkly. Which was what was going to happen there. She lifted her head, pushing her seer's senses out, testing for the tang of magic. Nothing was present. Cho shook her head and drew out her wand. "Lumos," she murmured. Her wand did not respond. No familiar surge of energy, no twang as the wand sprang to life, no mental snap that indicated a successful spell. So they've really blocked off all magic, thought Cho angrily. So I was right. Cho tightened slim fingers on the staff of her weapon, legs slightly bent even while walking through the foyer, ready for battle at any time. She didn't like the silence of the place. It unnerved her. The Vengeance-Seekers of the Circle of Midnight did not employ magic through wands. They had artifacts of magical power instead, power that responded to need and command. Yet they were almost infamous in the darker part of the wizarding word. The Vengeance-Seekers relied on weapons, swordplay in particular, and they were against the world as they had no magical lineage. As such, they had used one of the artifacts to block off all wand magic. The Starflower Mirror was one of the artifacts they had. Not for long. Cho had taught herself how to advance on cat's paws, quiet, merely a shadow's passing. She moved like that now, silent and fast and deadly. She reached a door that was heavy and big: carved with strange symbols and ornate patterns. With a wry smile, Cho snapped the bolt open and shoved the door open. ~*~ "Are we going in the correct direction?" Hermione asked, voice faint. She hadn't expected the dizzying speed Draco would set, or that they would have to fly nearly seventy feet above the villages, wizarding and Muggle both. Draco turned to look at her. "Yes," he said, giving her a quizzical look. Hermione chewed on her lower lip. She wished that her mind would quit going blank whenever he looked at her, dead in the eye, no pretense. She wished that her heart would quit giving her that annoying little tug when she saw the intenseness and purpose mirrored in those grey eyes. It was inconvenient, in a way. All right, let's sort this out. Hermione turned the matter over in her head. She confessed that, yes, Draco Malfoy was physically attractive. The calm yet determined grey eyes, the tall frame, the silken head of silver-blond hair... it was thus rational that she would feel attracted, yet nervous, when he gave her that soulful gaze of his. He wasn't the only man who had made her feel that way. Once upon a time, Ron Weasley had, too. So had Viktor Krum. And sometimes she chanced upon a stranger that made her feel that way too, a little infatuation, quickly forgotten, rarely remembered. They only had to fly a short distance to Azkaban. Most of the distance was in truth, the ocean, and they were heading for the beach. The twinkling lights below were entrancing and beautiful, and Hermione appreciated the sight, although she was slightly queasy. As a result, she kept her head straight up and eyes ahead most of the time. Which was why she failed to notice when the land had finally given way to water. She was still flying unconcernedly, assuming that they were still speeding over towns and cities. Draco shook his head and brought his broom close to hers, to warn her that they were flying over water, and even then, she didn't notice him. He understood. It was cold, up there, and he himself was numb. Gently he laid a hand on Hermione's arm. He was startled at her reaction. Immediately, she snatched her arm away from his grasp. Even as she turned, one hand groped around in her robes and brought up her wand, aiming it at him, and a spell was half muttered before Draco lashed out and gripped her wrist, nearly knocking the wand from her grasp. Her chocolate eyes widened as she stared at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, Draco," she said weakly. "I'm... I'm on edge, I guess... your hand was cold, and I just assumed... I mean... I - " "It's okay," Draco said quickly. Hermione was staring at something. He followed her gaze and realized that her eyes were locked on his hand. He released her wrist, a flash of embarrassment showing in his eyes. "Sorry," she said again, simply. "I understand." She was nervous. Realization broke upon Draco - and scared. Hermione was a courageous woman to have travelled so far with him, to have trusted him with her life, to have agreed to take up the task he had offered. But she was still frightened at what she would find there. "Don't be scared," he said in a low voice, searching the expressive dark eyes and finding tears. A searing streak of guilt reached his heart. "I promise you that I'll try to get us out of there alive." She smiled at him, eyes still brimming with tears - of what? Hermione herself didn't know. Perhaps it was her deeply-rooted fear, or the pressure, or the shock Draco had dealt to her with that one simple gesture. She had acknowledged that she was stressed and anxious and on edge, but it hadn't make her feel better - not like how Draco's words had. "I intend to get out alive, thank you," she told Draco firmly. Resolve strengthened her face. Laughter sparkled in his grey eyes. Hermione thought that was better than a smile, because she knew that the laughter was sincere and from the heart. "I just wanted to tell you that we're flying over the sea now." Then he veered away from her, and pulled ahead slightly to lead the way. Hermione tried to conquer her fear and scanned the sea below - a cold, pale grey. The waves were calm and small, serene as they blinked up at her. A salty sea breeze tousled Hermione's hair, pulling it away from her face. The rising and falling of the waves, the breaking of the tide against the seashore, the intermittent shrieks of a seagull... it was oddly calming, like a soothing lullaby. Hermione found herself marvelling at it. Everything was bathed in pale moonlight, washed in the celestial illumination, given a soft, calming touch. Hermione smiled, and they flew on. ~*~ "What are you doing here?" asked Robin calmly, standing up, letting the book fall from his lap and dropping into a defensive stance. The girl who had barged in ignored him, and scanned the library. Twenty-nine-year-old Robin eyed her cautiously. The library was a large place. Rows upon rows, shelves upon shelves, painstakingly arranged in a pentagon. The aisles were large and airy, big enough for perhaps three average-sized men to stand shoulder to shoulder. Ornamental weapons decorated the walls. The windows, situated neatly along the walls, admitted cold, beautiful moonlight. The moonlight washed over the girl. Robin estimated her to be in her late twenties. She was in possession of striking beauty. Her eyes were the shade of amethysts, but with a measure of wariness and a touch of coldness, and she had long eyelashes that swept her cheeks when she blinked. Her face was delicately sculpted, with clear ivory skin. She had brown hair mixed with natural highlights of blond. "This is the Circle of Midnight's castle," said Robin, feeling absurd. The other seven Vengeance-Seekers had moved to stand behind him, spread casually in a half-circle. "Women are not allowed in here." It was then Robin noticed the scythe she held loosely by her side. "I am here for a purpose, Robin of the Circle," she advised. She played her voice around him, hypnotizing him, entrancing him. Robin knew she was setting a trap, and he wanted to fight her voice but found with horror that he could not. Her voice had frozen him, a lilting aria. He did not question how she knew his name. Robin's mind was blank. She kept talking, violet eyes fixed on his. She spoke faster and faster, and her voice was weaving a spell over them all. Her voice was her weapon, and her words her magic. "I am Cho Chang, a seer. I am a seer of darkness and shadows. I tell horror stories. I relay messages of gore. I am a witch and I have command of magic, and yet I am half-Muggle and I have knowledge of swordplay. I am not an enemy that you want to make, Robin of the Circle. I am not a woman you want to cross." She paused, and Robin found that he could relax, slightly. "What - what are you doing here?" he forced out. She gave him a chilling smile. "I seek the Starflower Mirror, the Mirror of confusion and magnification. I would suggest that you merely pass it over to me, and no fuss will be undertaken. I would suggest, as well, that you lift the ban wand magic here." Almost automatically, Robin reached for the Sword of Esdrasm, resting on a table; the magical artifact he had in possession, to follow her orders. What are you doing? an internal voice whispered at him furiously. Are you mad? Robin lifted the Sword in front of him slowly. "Cho Chang, witch, user of wand. I will not permit you to take the Starflower Mirror, not now... not ever. It is one of the most powerful artifacts we own. You will have to kill us to get to it." She smiled. "Gladly." ~*~ There was definitely something wrong. While planning the expedition, both Draco and Hermione had expected a series of echantments to bar their way to Azkaban (or out of it), which was why they had opted for flying rather than, say, sailing or even swimming. They had figured that while in the air, they could see anything coming at them from a mile off, whereas the same couldn't be said while they were on or in the sea. But something would be set up to stop intruders coming in from air, too. Draco was feeling uneasy. It was too quiet; nothing had approached - not even a stray owl winging back to its family. He kept half an eye on Hermione, who was ahead of him, trying to think. It struck him then. An invisible barrier. Certainly a barrier would be set up, preventing them from entering through air. Draco wanted to smack himself in the head for not thinking about it, then his eyes widened in alarm. Hermione. He had to share his revelations with her, and warn her to slow down. He heard a grunt and his head snapped up, instantly alert. Then he saw what happened. In front of him, Hermione's body was crouched low as she made a wild - and futile - attempt to slow her broom down. So she's figured it out, too, thought Draco. The broom did slow considerably, and Hermione frantically wheeled it around. She looked up and caught Draco's gaze, helpless and desparate. "Hold on," Draco ordered, voice strained and tight. Hermione's knuckles were white as she gripped the broom even tighter. The broomtail slammed against the barrier, and a rainbow shimmer ran through the invisible shield. Hermione's body was thrown forward, slightly, jarred by the blow. She yelped, but it had not harmed her. Shaken, trembling, she floated the broom next to Draco. He shuddered to think of what might have happened to them if they had been going at full-speed, unaware. Cautiously, he inched forward and let a few fingers graze the surface of the barrier. The same multi-coloured sparkles washed through the shield that stretched like a dome, protecting the tiny island of Azkaban. "How are we going to get through that?" Hermione's voice was remarkably calm. Draco drew his wand out. "Incendio!" A jet of fire exploded from the the tip of his wand, driving itself right into the barrier. Draco cursed as the barrier merely absorbed the magical sprout of energy. "No, force won't work," Hermione said reasonably. "Maybe it was the spell that didn't work," Draco snapped back, his patience wearing thin. Hermione looked stung at the blow, before anger flashed in her eyes. "Fine, then," she said through gritted teeth. "Meltous!" Pale blue light shimmered quietly from her wand and touched the barrier. The melting spell hit the barrier, and it shuddered violently. Another splash of rainbow - and incredibly - a hole appeared from where Hermione's spell had hit. With a whoop of delight, Draco darted towards the hole - and it closed off, inches from his face. "The melting spell won't hold," Hermione muttered. Draco gave a quick, angered sigh. "There's a loophole in this system, Draco," she said patiently. "We've got to find out what. Getting angry won't help." A tense and heavy silence hung in the air, oppressive and gloomy. Draco watched as her face lit up. She propelled forward gently and her fingers, soft and searching, trailed across the barrier. Draco saw her back stiffen as the rainbow energy crackled around her, and she let out a hiss of pain. A jolt of fear rushed through him and he hauled her back, breaking her contact with the barrrier. "Are you crazy?" he asked heatedly, frightened and furious for her. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Hermione looked dazed, but she shook it off. "No, Draco. Don't you get it? The barrier will only let us through if we infuse ourselves with the same energy it contains." At Draco's confused look, she tried to explain further. "Stupefy," she ordered, and the yellow jet hit the barrier with much force. "See the rainbow light?" Hermione gestured at the barrier, which pulsed with the rainbow illumination, before quieting and reverting back to its original, invisible form. "That's the magic used to create it. We've got to make ourselves like the barrier, infuse ourselves with the same magic. Then it will let us pass. Fight fire with fire, but with the same kind." Hermione quoted an old wizard proverb. "I think I get it," Draco replied thoughtfully. "But wouldn't it mean we would have to go through a lot of pain?" "It will pass," Hermione said confidently. As if to prove her point, she touched the barrier again. The colourful twinkles formed an aura around her. Once again, Hermione stiffened, grinding her teeth. Another hiss of pain escaped her. Draco looked on worriedly, feeling like an older brother watching over a younger sister. Now he knew how Ron Weasley had felt when Ginny stumbled in and out of trouble. Then she seemed to tumble through, and her face was alight with victory as the barrier shook and parted for her. "Come through," Hermione told him - mouthed, really - her voice was very muffled. Draco looked at her, right into her eyes. Trust me, they pleaded, unwavering in their gaze. He held out one hand and laid his palm directly on top of the barrier. ~*~ Cho registered Robin's movements: stout, confident, graceful, but not with a lot of caution. She hefted her scythe up to meet the Sword of Esdrasm - a powerful item in its own right, but she had no interest in it that night. A metallic clang rang in the air, signaling the start of the battle. Robin instinctively dealt offensive blows. Cho parried his blows easily, one after the other, low, jabbing movements with the occasional sweep aimed to take her head off. Metal scraped against metal, a harsh, consistent melody. Cho did not bother to deal any attacks; it was too early for that. She could sense someone behind her, breathing soft and regulated. Her instincts were innately acute and made even clearer by her birthright as a seer. A smile touched her lips, her third one that night. The Vengeance-Seeker rarely played by the rules. With a sudden, graceful movement, she jerked around and her scythe swung smoothly as she severed the head of the Vengeance-Seeker who had tried to attack her from behind. She did not bother to watch the head hinge off his shoulders, like Nearly Headless Nick's, attached by a few pieces of trailing sinew and pure skin. When she whirled around, she noted that Robin's face looked indifferent. This was a man accustomed to killing, death, and gore. The blood on her scythe smeared onto his sword as they bit into each other and parted. She knew that Robin was the real threat; the other Vengeance-Seekers were small fry compared to his skills. A second attacker approached warily from her right. At that point, one of Robin's blows came at her face. Cho dodged the swift attack, and swept her leg out while bent in a crouch. The attacker fell down in a heap. She continued to dance around Robin's blows without parrying them with her scythe, her attention focused on the fallen attacker. When he attempted to get up again, fingers groping for his sabre, Cho snap-kicked at his head. Her heavy boot whacked into his face and his skull bounded off the floor. His eyes mostl of their focus then. Cho knew she had to kill him, or he would soon be up and attacking her again while she was fighting Robin. She raised her scythe with both hands, knowing the strength needed to perform such a maneuver. The curved portion of the blade hooked onto the Sword of Esdrasm, and she flicked it away from Robin. Robin's grip on the Sword was strong. He and his weapon were flung aside. Cho had bought a couple of seconds' time, but her shoulders ached as they paid the price. She bent over the Vengeance-Seeker, keeping her head hunched and neck protected, and drove the tip of her scythe into his heart. He died painlessly and cleanly. Something sharp swiped across her shoulder blades, bringing with it burning pain and the wet sensation of blood. Cho hissed like a wildcat, her eyes flaring, and jumped over the corpse of the dead attacker. Robin stood there, sneering at her as the moonlight fell over the blood dripping off the tip of his blade. My blood, Cho thought, nearly blinded by rage. Adrenaline pounded through her body. She lifted herself high and ducked another one of Robin's attacks. She attacked the remaining five Vengeance-Seekers openly, not allowing them to sneak up on her. She rounded on the weakest of the lot, a young boy who looked about sixteen. He looked terrified but courageously raised a rapier to fend off her attacks. Cho was on edge now, furious, deadly, fuelled by skill and refined by acute senses. She killed him easily, slitting his throat. The next two she dispatched was a tad harder to get rid of. Robin was behind her, trying to kill her, trying to stop her before she murdered his comrades. Cho turned the scythe so that the blade faced her. She slammed the tip of the staff into Robin's ribs, knocking the breath out of him as he stumbled and collapsed into a chair, trying to regain lost oxygen. Of course, everything came with a price. Cho once again paid for it as one of the following two slashed a short sword down her back, criss-crossing with Robin's earlier inflicted wound. She screamed this time, not bothering to mask the pain. Leaping up, she rammed the scythe so hard through his chest that the blade cut through the skin of his back. She had missed his heart. Annoyed at herself, Cho yanked the scythe back and drove it through him again, through his heart, this time with less force. He died on her blade, her third killing that night, and she brushed him off as if he was nothing but an infuriating thorn in her side. The other she toyed with, slashing small but painful cuts on his body. Finally she cut a brutal circle on his abdomen, watching the blood spurt all over the place. The thin flap of skin flapped forward. He tried to contain the entrails that were slipping out, with unholy screams. She left him to writhe on the floor. Three more left. She turned on them, her scythe whickering through the air. She managed to sever someone's head, since she had the element of surprise. She recognized the last two as Robin's right-hand men: Daq and Julius. She heard the laboured breathing of Robin, next to her. Her own breath was sobbing, seeking air. She eyed them all. Killing them was possible, but she did not want to expend any more energy that night. Suddenly she wished that her best friend was next to her. Draco Malfoy would be a blessing then, being well-versed in swordplay. He would give her comfort, knowing that he was perfectly capable of defending himself and even her. She would kill one, Cho decided. She would kill Daq, and then she would make a run for their secret chamber, hidden away in the library. She focused on Daq, trying to ignore the pain pulsing through her. She raised her scythe and began attacking him, favouring high motions and sweeps. A clean killing, she decided. Take off his head. With a scream, she lashed forward, making sure to pin him down. She jumped into the air and landed on top of him with all the force she could muster, dragging him down by driving a punch into his face. He thrashed beneath her, but Cho would rather die than allow him to escape. She gripped the tip of her blade and forced it into his throat. Then she unfolded herself, racing towards where she knew the hidden chamber was. She tried to ignore the throb in her shoulders. Magic hit her, searing her from head to toe, and Cho allowed the tears to stream own her face freely. She had forgotten that the Sword of Esdrasm was capable of wielding magic as well. She stumbled, half-blinded, but continued running. She found the shelf that hid the chamber. Still crying with pain, biting her lower lip in an attempt to veil it, she wrenched out the book that concealed the switch to the chamber. Cho slammed her palm onto the switch, and waited impatiently as the shelf grated open. She turned, trying to fend off vicious attacks from Julius and Robin both. Her movements were slow, as if she was trying to move through mud. Her limbs were heavy, and it would be so tempting to just lie down... and slip into the beckoning chasm of darkness... Focus, Chang! Cho darted in the tiny opening the shelf offered her, still in the midst of swinging open. She heard the grunts of Julius and Robin trying to squeeze in after her, and she turned her attention to the Starflower Mirror. There was no mistaking what it was. The room was brimming with magic, but she ignored it all. She ran for the Mirror, her scythe nearly falling from her fingers. The Starflower Mirror was rather large - about the size of a computer monitor - and oval in shape. Genuine starflowers crowded the edge of the mirror. She picked it up, and it was surprisingly light. She glanced up, on guard. Robin had managed to wedge himself through the slit. He raised his sword and spoke a single word, a strange language Cho had never heard before. The tendril of magic ripped through her, much more powerful than the tingle she had received in her wild dash to this very chamber. Cho dropped to her knees, still clutching the Mirror, refusing to make any more noise, refusing to scream. She lifted a sleeve to wipe her tears away, her amethyst eyes hard as ever. Blood flowed freely from her wounds. She saw Robin step in front of her, sword raised to send a final blast of magic, to finish her off. Cho closed her eyes. She had failed Lord Voldemort. Increasingly getting darker, I hope. *bleary-eyed* This chappie went through a ton of rewrites and I had to sit here for three hours every day before I was satisfied with it. Typos and grammatical errors are, of course, unpardonable, so please point them out and yell at me. I love writing and reading about swordplay, by the way. ;) Practically every non-one-shot fics of mine have swordplay in them. I do hope that you like reading swordplay, as well. (Even though I don't know a single thing about fencing and proper swordfighting.) Also this is my longest chapter yet. :-) Elluxion is blathering again, as usual. Well, do click on that nice purple review button there!
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