**Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling would never do this to her precious creations. Only I would.
**Reviews: I broke 50, but I really want more, and I know you guys are more opinionated than that! C'mon! Review!!!!
~Ed, thanks for finally getting around to reading it. I'm sure you'll enjoy the rest.
~hasapi, I left you speechless! I'm so happy! Half of the charm of this story is the confusion, and if you can trust me, though this chapter will confuse you more, everything will clear up in the end. And as for the 'eep', I thought Draco was corrupt enough. We needed to infiltrate Gryffindor.
~FireSylph, yay! A new fan! I'm glad you caught on to the visual aspect of this fic, and as for your suggestion, I'm not sure what else I can do with Hermione and Draco, but if I do make another fic I'll always judge it by the caliber of this one and hope that you will keep me on tabs with my work, in terms of quality.
~Sex & Diamonds, lol, about Paxia...yea. You'll see. I'll explain why I took that "die Paxia bitch die" threat to heart after the last chapter. And sex is a tool for power as much as it is for love. The power has already been assuaged, so there's no need for the sex stuff now. Sorry to disappoint you there, but I hope you'll understand.
~LA, damn, if you cried then, what are you gonna do now? Don't hit me at lunch for what I'm going to put you through this chapter.
**A/N: Well, if the last chapter didn't elude that this chapter would be dark, I failed in my quest. This chapter is full of angst, is harsh, bitter, and will make some of you *cough* LA *cough* a bit, shall we say, sensitive. I'm sorry I had to do this, but it had to be done. This isn't the last chapter, so don't worry too much. Also, I saw Chamber of Secrets Saturday night, and I highly recommend it to anyone!! That was really good- but did any one else notice that "Draco" sounded like he always had food in his mouth? I refuse to believe he has a lisp. I refuse to!!
Corrupt
Chapter Twelve
Corrupt
Softly crunching through the snow, a pair of footsteps found their way from a back entrance of Hogwart's and to the Quidditch fields. The moonless sky was accented with dim bursts of heavenly, celestial spotlights, which filtered nonchalantly through the trees. The cloth which covered the audience towers rippled in the wind, which, though bitingly cold, merely whispered and faded back from whence it came. Reaching out a hand, leaning against the wooden beams on the playing field, she reached out and removed the invisibility cloak, to reveal a tall stature of a man she had known but hours ago, wrapped in black- visage hidden.
Pressing against her, he questioned the purpose of his risky excursion. She silenced him, and began to walk- slowly at first, then more briskly, until they were at a near sprint. Waves of such silently dark apostles filtered through the marshy entrance of the Dark Forest, through the poisonous weeds, under enchanted branches, witness but non-partakers to the wicked world around them- - pending their arrival to a guarded brush of dying embers, kept glowing by the breath of an unseen demon.
Mechanically, the pair descended into abandoned building created beneath the floor of the life amidst the trees, only to be followed, some twenty students behind, by Draco and Hermione. Snape took to the shadows, and caught Harry and Paxia's entrance. Had the damn soul within him contained any sense of conscience, he would have shed the tears an innocent would pour in witnessing four promising youths take passage into this world. Instead, he stared. Watched, closely. For Severus himself had joined this world as a youth, and the mark on his arm forbade him to withdraw from it.
Disappearing into the sea of black, Paxia found her way to a cauldron set in front of a backdrop of stone. Sharp inhalations met in unison as the cauldron's contents spilled forth and bubbled to produce the chassis of none other than Lord Voldemort. Freezing in shock, Harry nearly removed his hood in hopes of seeing if it was really her. Could Paxia really be that close in a connection with Voldemort? But he refrained, exposure now could mean trouble later.
Draco gripped Hermione's hand tightly. Neither obtained the strength to cry or collapse, having exhausted both earlier. Exanimate, their expressions remained numb and heartless. In moments the initiations would commence, and Draco Malfoy would succeed his father as the most powerful Malfoy in history. Each generation becoming progressively stronger with the acquisition of new recruitments for the Dark Lord, Draco knew it was his predestination.
The crowd circled the cauldron and its contents. From it, Death Eaters came forth and took positions next to their leader in order of importance. Paxia to his left. Snape to his right. Lucious Malfoy right behind him. A voice stirred the quiet, mesmerizing, enchanting, and wholly captivating- incapacitating the whole gathering....
"This twenty-sixth day of the third year in this millennia commences the initiation of our youngest generation. Each of you have sealed your fates as undertakers of my work, each of you will carry my orders and bring to my disposal the muggle community. The wizards of this world have shamed our blood, and with you, we will reclaim our purity. Extend your arms." Voldemort's voice reverberated through each mind, and simultaneously, for every initiate in the room, an existing follower grabbed a wrist. Black iron spikes were emblazoned with the seal of the Dark Lord, and dipped into the cauldron. Steaming, they were held to the skin of the children, for what were these students but children, until fully absorbed.
Draco's skin singed and swelled, his pure blood beneath boiling. Engulfing this epidermal offender, the black seal officiated his new life as follower of Voldemort. His eyes turned to Hermione, who's skin had blistered, white as snow, and bleeding. Her blood boiled as well, but it could not receive of the magic- her's having no such purity of wizard heritage. The apostle meant to mark her freed her arm from the branding's torture, and resumed it in his own hand. Draco was held back as she was brought to the fore-front.
Harry Potter's arm suffered the same fate, and he, too, was brought before Lord Voldemort.
In a single gesture, their hoods were removed, and even the habitual silence of the room was forced to usurpation by surprise. Muggles attempting to join the ranks of the Pure bloods would not be tolerated, and to have his enemy at his mercy made the task of killing him all the sweeter. Voldemort lifted his cloak laden arms and levitated a petrified Harry and Hermione into the air. Drawing nearer to the boiling fatality that awaited them into the cauldron, their bodies stiffened, preparing to take their last breaths.
Paxia's demeanor changed from that of a reserved vigilant to that of a panicked lover. Her body catapulted past Voldemort, resisting a grab from Severus, and she leapt to the platform, propelling herself into the molten liquid as a sacrifice. Her body screamed as she churned into an oozing liquidization. Harry's body collapsed to the floor, heaving and sweating from his returned state of mobility. In similar fashion, Draco lunged forward to claim his own future for the sake of Hermione, but he was stopped- petrified much in the state of his beloved, by the same demonic creature.
Severus was taken aback with guilt and resentment. She was eighteen- beautiful, brilliant, and the one woman that had ever shown him strength. No matter what her will, he had begun to love her, and his reservations cascaded into mourning. His eyes shown with mirror-pools of sorrow, and even a death threat from Voldemort would be welcomed by him, if he could only join her now. But she would not have it so, even in death. Her final choice had been the salvation of Harry Potter. But why? Certainly not for love. She could not love. It was not in her capacity to do so. Voldemort had let her kill herself- he had other plans.
Bruised from the fall, Voldemort's greatest threat was allowed to escape death. The sacrifice of Paxia had strengthened the Dark Lord, and his powers overwhelmed those of his rival. Unconscious, Harry was let to lay there, unopposed for the time being. The levitated bodies of Hermione and Draco were settled to the floor, as Voldemort saw what no one else had. The true purpose of Hermione's induction into Slytherin. Hermione, as a pure muggle, would be his connection into that world which he so loathed. Through her, he would attain such a passage, and magic would devastate non-magic, eliminating the existence of all muggles, and leaving only his kind to take over.
"Incidere per obtinere il liquidus de vita. Miscere corrumpere et purus. Destruere le donares et revivere il apostolos di guerre..." The chant began in the mind of Voldemort, but his near-telekinetic powers made the room well aware his intentions. Incisions became evident on the scars of Draco and Hermione, and as their life bearing liquid drained from them, hers mixed with his. The red, stickiness from the blood marked the stone floors, draining into the remains of Paxia's corpse. A mass began to appear in the form of a woman- the same woman that had sacrificed herself. Voldemort had reincarnated the body of his most loyal disciple by mixing the blood of a muggle with the blood of a pure wizard. She now matched the potency of Harry Potter, and as he shook from his sleep, Paxia's full figure solidified and sought vengeance.
Kicking aside the breathless bodies of Draco and Hermione, an enraged creature expressing the wrath of her creator levitated Harry Potter and threw his tired frame against the stone wall. Stumbling, but realizing his situation, Harry reached for his wand- only to discover he hadn't brought it. He looked up and-
"Paxia," he whispered. His mind became flooded with his feelings for her. What was she doing to him? Could she hear him? Who was this woman before him? The questions remained unanswered, and she continued to forcefully pursue him. He knew what he had to do, he just couldn't believe it would be with her.
"Petrificus totalis," he yelled, but to no avail. With out a wand, that spell was useless. He needed a broader order. Or something that didn't require specifications. Seizing a rock by his shoe, Harry heaved it at his former classmate, nailing her shoulder. She winced, long enough for Harry to remember a fourth year taunt...
"Il che captare, collabi," with that, his pursuant fell in her strides, and seizing a broken remnant of glass, repeatedly plunged, guiltily, into Paxia's body. Her blood splashed, soaking the skin of her murderer, and the skin of the bodies beside her. With each stab, Harry cried. Cried for himself, and cried for his crimes. His own sacrifice to save humanity.
**Reviews: I broke 50, but I really want more, and I know you guys are more opinionated than that! C'mon! Review!!!!
~Ed, thanks for finally getting around to reading it. I'm sure you'll enjoy the rest.
~hasapi, I left you speechless! I'm so happy! Half of the charm of this story is the confusion, and if you can trust me, though this chapter will confuse you more, everything will clear up in the end. And as for the 'eep', I thought Draco was corrupt enough. We needed to infiltrate Gryffindor.
~FireSylph, yay! A new fan! I'm glad you caught on to the visual aspect of this fic, and as for your suggestion, I'm not sure what else I can do with Hermione and Draco, but if I do make another fic I'll always judge it by the caliber of this one and hope that you will keep me on tabs with my work, in terms of quality.
~Sex & Diamonds, lol, about Paxia...yea. You'll see. I'll explain why I took that "die Paxia bitch die" threat to heart after the last chapter. And sex is a tool for power as much as it is for love. The power has already been assuaged, so there's no need for the sex stuff now. Sorry to disappoint you there, but I hope you'll understand.
~LA, damn, if you cried then, what are you gonna do now? Don't hit me at lunch for what I'm going to put you through this chapter.
**A/N: Well, if the last chapter didn't elude that this chapter would be dark, I failed in my quest. This chapter is full of angst, is harsh, bitter, and will make some of you *cough* LA *cough* a bit, shall we say, sensitive. I'm sorry I had to do this, but it had to be done. This isn't the last chapter, so don't worry too much. Also, I saw Chamber of Secrets Saturday night, and I highly recommend it to anyone!! That was really good- but did any one else notice that "Draco" sounded like he always had food in his mouth? I refuse to believe he has a lisp. I refuse to!!
Corrupt
Chapter Twelve
Corrupt
Softly crunching through the snow, a pair of footsteps found their way from a back entrance of Hogwart's and to the Quidditch fields. The moonless sky was accented with dim bursts of heavenly, celestial spotlights, which filtered nonchalantly through the trees. The cloth which covered the audience towers rippled in the wind, which, though bitingly cold, merely whispered and faded back from whence it came. Reaching out a hand, leaning against the wooden beams on the playing field, she reached out and removed the invisibility cloak, to reveal a tall stature of a man she had known but hours ago, wrapped in black- visage hidden.
Pressing against her, he questioned the purpose of his risky excursion. She silenced him, and began to walk- slowly at first, then more briskly, until they were at a near sprint. Waves of such silently dark apostles filtered through the marshy entrance of the Dark Forest, through the poisonous weeds, under enchanted branches, witness but non-partakers to the wicked world around them- - pending their arrival to a guarded brush of dying embers, kept glowing by the breath of an unseen demon.
Mechanically, the pair descended into abandoned building created beneath the floor of the life amidst the trees, only to be followed, some twenty students behind, by Draco and Hermione. Snape took to the shadows, and caught Harry and Paxia's entrance. Had the damn soul within him contained any sense of conscience, he would have shed the tears an innocent would pour in witnessing four promising youths take passage into this world. Instead, he stared. Watched, closely. For Severus himself had joined this world as a youth, and the mark on his arm forbade him to withdraw from it.
Disappearing into the sea of black, Paxia found her way to a cauldron set in front of a backdrop of stone. Sharp inhalations met in unison as the cauldron's contents spilled forth and bubbled to produce the chassis of none other than Lord Voldemort. Freezing in shock, Harry nearly removed his hood in hopes of seeing if it was really her. Could Paxia really be that close in a connection with Voldemort? But he refrained, exposure now could mean trouble later.
Draco gripped Hermione's hand tightly. Neither obtained the strength to cry or collapse, having exhausted both earlier. Exanimate, their expressions remained numb and heartless. In moments the initiations would commence, and Draco Malfoy would succeed his father as the most powerful Malfoy in history. Each generation becoming progressively stronger with the acquisition of new recruitments for the Dark Lord, Draco knew it was his predestination.
The crowd circled the cauldron and its contents. From it, Death Eaters came forth and took positions next to their leader in order of importance. Paxia to his left. Snape to his right. Lucious Malfoy right behind him. A voice stirred the quiet, mesmerizing, enchanting, and wholly captivating- incapacitating the whole gathering....
"This twenty-sixth day of the third year in this millennia commences the initiation of our youngest generation. Each of you have sealed your fates as undertakers of my work, each of you will carry my orders and bring to my disposal the muggle community. The wizards of this world have shamed our blood, and with you, we will reclaim our purity. Extend your arms." Voldemort's voice reverberated through each mind, and simultaneously, for every initiate in the room, an existing follower grabbed a wrist. Black iron spikes were emblazoned with the seal of the Dark Lord, and dipped into the cauldron. Steaming, they were held to the skin of the children, for what were these students but children, until fully absorbed.
Draco's skin singed and swelled, his pure blood beneath boiling. Engulfing this epidermal offender, the black seal officiated his new life as follower of Voldemort. His eyes turned to Hermione, who's skin had blistered, white as snow, and bleeding. Her blood boiled as well, but it could not receive of the magic- her's having no such purity of wizard heritage. The apostle meant to mark her freed her arm from the branding's torture, and resumed it in his own hand. Draco was held back as she was brought to the fore-front.
Harry Potter's arm suffered the same fate, and he, too, was brought before Lord Voldemort.
In a single gesture, their hoods were removed, and even the habitual silence of the room was forced to usurpation by surprise. Muggles attempting to join the ranks of the Pure bloods would not be tolerated, and to have his enemy at his mercy made the task of killing him all the sweeter. Voldemort lifted his cloak laden arms and levitated a petrified Harry and Hermione into the air. Drawing nearer to the boiling fatality that awaited them into the cauldron, their bodies stiffened, preparing to take their last breaths.
Paxia's demeanor changed from that of a reserved vigilant to that of a panicked lover. Her body catapulted past Voldemort, resisting a grab from Severus, and she leapt to the platform, propelling herself into the molten liquid as a sacrifice. Her body screamed as she churned into an oozing liquidization. Harry's body collapsed to the floor, heaving and sweating from his returned state of mobility. In similar fashion, Draco lunged forward to claim his own future for the sake of Hermione, but he was stopped- petrified much in the state of his beloved, by the same demonic creature.
Severus was taken aback with guilt and resentment. She was eighteen- beautiful, brilliant, and the one woman that had ever shown him strength. No matter what her will, he had begun to love her, and his reservations cascaded into mourning. His eyes shown with mirror-pools of sorrow, and even a death threat from Voldemort would be welcomed by him, if he could only join her now. But she would not have it so, even in death. Her final choice had been the salvation of Harry Potter. But why? Certainly not for love. She could not love. It was not in her capacity to do so. Voldemort had let her kill herself- he had other plans.
Bruised from the fall, Voldemort's greatest threat was allowed to escape death. The sacrifice of Paxia had strengthened the Dark Lord, and his powers overwhelmed those of his rival. Unconscious, Harry was let to lay there, unopposed for the time being. The levitated bodies of Hermione and Draco were settled to the floor, as Voldemort saw what no one else had. The true purpose of Hermione's induction into Slytherin. Hermione, as a pure muggle, would be his connection into that world which he so loathed. Through her, he would attain such a passage, and magic would devastate non-magic, eliminating the existence of all muggles, and leaving only his kind to take over.
"Incidere per obtinere il liquidus de vita. Miscere corrumpere et purus. Destruere le donares et revivere il apostolos di guerre..." The chant began in the mind of Voldemort, but his near-telekinetic powers made the room well aware his intentions. Incisions became evident on the scars of Draco and Hermione, and as their life bearing liquid drained from them, hers mixed with his. The red, stickiness from the blood marked the stone floors, draining into the remains of Paxia's corpse. A mass began to appear in the form of a woman- the same woman that had sacrificed herself. Voldemort had reincarnated the body of his most loyal disciple by mixing the blood of a muggle with the blood of a pure wizard. She now matched the potency of Harry Potter, and as he shook from his sleep, Paxia's full figure solidified and sought vengeance.
Kicking aside the breathless bodies of Draco and Hermione, an enraged creature expressing the wrath of her creator levitated Harry Potter and threw his tired frame against the stone wall. Stumbling, but realizing his situation, Harry reached for his wand- only to discover he hadn't brought it. He looked up and-
"Paxia," he whispered. His mind became flooded with his feelings for her. What was she doing to him? Could she hear him? Who was this woman before him? The questions remained unanswered, and she continued to forcefully pursue him. He knew what he had to do, he just couldn't believe it would be with her.
"Petrificus totalis," he yelled, but to no avail. With out a wand, that spell was useless. He needed a broader order. Or something that didn't require specifications. Seizing a rock by his shoe, Harry heaved it at his former classmate, nailing her shoulder. She winced, long enough for Harry to remember a fourth year taunt...
"Il che captare, collabi," with that, his pursuant fell in her strides, and seizing a broken remnant of glass, repeatedly plunged, guiltily, into Paxia's body. Her blood splashed, soaking the skin of her murderer, and the skin of the bodies beside her. With each stab, Harry cried. Cried for himself, and cried for his crimes. His own sacrifice to save humanity.