After much deliberation I have decided to continue writing this story. After reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, I was at the point where I didn't much feel like writing anything anymore, least of all anything about Harry and Co.
Seeing as the 5th book has finally come out, I thought that my story would be left to rot, as my readers' time would be filled with words straight from JK Rowling herself.
But then I thought, 'I finished the book in 2 days, and already I want something else to read.' Well, what better to read than fanfiction. I thought that while we all waited for the 6th book to hit the stores, I would continue my story. So here it is, the next chapter. I hope I didn't write all this for nothing. I hope you all like it.
chapter eight
the fly—healing—Dobby vs. Reign—the tragic demise of a great man
You shouldn't have done that, you know.
Reign sat on the edge of a large four-poster bed draped in ebony. Her arms were wrapped around her knees in an effort to keep her body warm.
You see? Now look at you...
Her teeth started chattering as small bumps rose out of her dark skin. The tip of her nose and ears felt like ice, as did her fingers and toes. She threw her face into her knees, attempting to banish the ice-cold feeling creeping over her entire body.
The voice in her head sighed.
Haven't learned a thing yet, have you?
"Oh come OFF it!" the elf shouted suddenly, springing from the bed. She grabbed her hair and fell to her knees. "Just go away," she whispered as she rocked on her haunches, "just go away..."
A single tear escaped her green eyes as she turned to sit on the rug through which Severus left. Spreading her legs out in front of her, she leaned back against the bed and wiped the drop from her cheek. It was quite a long while before she remembered to breathe, or blink...all she did for a great amount of time was stare at the spot where the Potions Master disappeared.
When she did move, it was to rub her wrists. She hadn't mentioned it to him, but as soon as his Dark Mark began to burn, so too did her scars. As she sat massaging the pain from them, she wondered why anyone would want to go through what Severus went through to join the ranks of the Dark Lord.
Power, perhaps? Maybe for some...but Severus didn't seem like the power-hungry type. Respect? Certainly that was part of his motive. But there was something else...
Reign supposed it was a sense of belonging that brought him to the Death Eaters. She didn't know anything about his past, but his present here at Hogwarts convinced her that he was probably very lonely. And Voldemort must have said the right words to him...that's all it took...a promise...to belong.
But at what price?
Pain and humiliation, to put it lightly. Reign just couldn't grasp it...why? She would never understand why anyone would want to kill another for power—or worse...for sport. And she wouldn't ever understand why others would watch and want to be like them.
Reign bit her lower lip as she thought. Unconsciously, her right hand went to her left arm, where her saphie hung. She wrapped her fingers around the emerald, relishing the tranquility that surged through the tips and into the rest of her body. Now that she knew what was causing the annoying disturbances in her life, she needed to figure out a way to control it. Perhaps if she just sat back and closed her eyes...
She cleared her mind...relaxed her muscles, her senses. She concentrated on her breathing, and the jewel that hung below her shoulder. All the noises, the smells disappeared, leaving her in a void beneath her closed lids. Once everything was gone, she dared to open one eye...to glance at the clock...to see...
"Damnit."
She closed her eye and leaned back against the bed again, this time wrapping her fingers around the emerald. Before she could relax, however, a buzzing noise drifted to her ears. She opened her eyes to see a fly frolicking in the air a few feet in front of her, making a sinuous path through the atmosphere of the Professor's rooms. She watched it dart into the bathroom at the opposite end of the space, then closed her eyes again.
It didn't stay in the bathroom for long.
Reign's hands flew in every direction, hoping to swat the insect so she could rid her mind of its buzzing. With her eyes still closed, she listened to its call, attempting to track it. Her head snapped to one side, and then the other as it darted across her face. Then it was gone; over the bed and into Snape's office, she suspected. She attempted control once more.
Her lips thinned out and her jaw clenched as the sound came back. She could feel her blood boiling, her muscles tensing. Slowly she opened her eyes and followed the insect's trail through the air. Reign ignored the warmth coming from her arm that flooded her insides. She couldn't see her eyes glow with a fire unknown to her as her irises swirled in their sockets. All she concentrated on was the fly, and how badly she wished it would just...
Stop.
The elf's jaw dropped to the floor as she lowered a raised finger that was pointed at the frozen pest. Lifting herself to her knees, she shuffled across the rug to where the fly hanged, suspended in the air.
A triumphant smile graced her youthful face. She turned to look at the clock; it was still ticking. Her smile faded but did not disappear. She had discovered the art of suspending an object in a timeless web.
It took her through lunch and afternoon classes to master the art. Practicing in Severus' rooms, she soon had various objects floating around the area. She would throw a pillow or a candle into the air and hold it there while she threw the next object. She also pushed the chairs over by the fireplace and stopped them before they crashed to the floor. With her hands on her hips, her sleeves rolled up, a shimmering forehead, and a smile on her face, she surveyed the state of Severus Snape's rooms.
If he would have entered at that moment, he would have been very upset.
Somewhere above her a bell tolled, signaling the end of afternoon courses and the start of dinner. After she replaced every floating object and two falling chairs, she straightened her attire smoothed back her hair. She was still wearing a smile as she went to the door, kicking back a corner of the rug that had been folded back in her escapades. She halted as she put her foot down.
While she was enjoying mastering her newly acquired power, Severus was most likely going through one of the worst times of his life.
It is funny how things work like that. Where—during the same span of one afternoon—one can be living: another, dying.
Reign lowered her head and said a silent prayer for the owner of the room that she stood in. She hoped that the gift she gave him would ease his pain; she hoped for his safe return.
***
It wasn't because her dinner was made by House Elves that Reign didn't want to eat. Nor was it the fact that she wasn't hungry—she most definitely was. Having skipped breakfast in order to go to the library, and then omitting lunch for practicing had certainly taken its toll on her appetite.
"Merlin's sake, Reign, was that your stomach?" Helena asked from next to her. The elf looked down at her lap, from where the disturbing noise originated.
"Yes," she said quietly.
"Well then eat something already!" the professor laughed, shoving a fork-full of potatoes into her mouth. Reign stared at the platter laid out before her; it certainly looked appealing...yet she had no desire, whatsoever, to place the masterpiece in her mouth.
"I can't."
"Pardon?" Helena spat after swallowing a mouthful of pumpkin juice.
"I'm just...too worried, I suppose." Reign heard a sigh from her right as a hand came up to her chin. Turning to look Helena in the eye, she could feel the warmth flowing once more. Helena's mouth hung half open as Reign turned her head to look over the sea of faces.
Time had stopped.
All of it.
Every person, save two, was frozen. Reign was one...
Caelan dropped her fork in her lap at the Gryffindor table. It happened again. She looked nervously from one face to the other, then dared to steal a glance up at the staff table. Before Reign noticed her, Time resumed.
"Your eyes..."
"What?"
'Your eyes...they changed..." Reign folded her hands in her lap.
"What are you talking about, Helena?"
"Only for an instant...Reign," she placed a hand on the elf's shoulder, "they glowed." Reign raised her eyebrow. "And...and they swirled." The elf's hand flew to her mouth to muffle a laugh. Helena hit her playfully on the shoulder. "I'm serious, Reign!" she hissed, leaning closer to her. "If only for a split second...I know what I saw...it was amazing..."
"Well," Reign started, attempting to think of an excuse, "some elves are known to express their emotions through their eyes." She looked at Helena to see if the bluff worked. "I told you I was worried."
"Yes....well, that was bloody strange."
"I'll try not to let it happen again." As they laughed, Madam Pomfrey came galloping into the Great Hall, pushing her way through students as they exited, swimming through the masses until she finally reached the staff table. She quickly ran around to where Dumbledore sat conversing with Professor McGonagall and proceeded to interrupt their conversation. After whispering into the Headmaster's ear, they both turned and looked straight at Reign.
She had been watching the mediwitch's spectacle with slight interest, but now their stares had piqued her curiosity. Very slowly and deliberately the Headmaster rose and led Madam Pomfrey to where the elf sat. Reign's knee began to bounce nervously as they approached.
"Severus has returned, my dear," Albus whispered to her. Reign nearly exploded out of her seat. Dumbledore and Poppy steadied her as she rose.
"Where is he?"
"In his own chambers," Madam Pomfrey said shortly. "Refuses to come to the hospital wing so I can heal him properly—"
"He's hurt!? How bad is it?" The nurse jumped back as Reign sprang toward her.
"Relax, child. He'll be fine," Albus soothed. "But I must stress that he is in a terrible amount of pain—physical, mental, and most likely emotional as well." Reign clasped her hand over her mouth.
"He's asked for you specifically, Reign," Poppy said from behind Dumbledore. "Stingy git won't let me near him. Thinks you can handle it better than I can—"
"Poppy," Dumbledore whispered sternly, turning to her. She looked instantly away. When the Headmaster turned back to the elf, she was already out the tall doors at the end of the Great Hall.
"How..." Poppy inquired, leaning on the table as she watched the elf disappear down the foyer stairs.
"Love, my dear," Albus said softly. The woman looked at him curiously. He just smiled, the twinkle in his eyes shining brighter than it had in many months. "All things are possible through love."
***
Harry had never seen anyone run so fast in his life; Reign was bounding through the halls, leaping left and right, clearing his peers' heads as they made their way to their respected common rooms. The look on her face—or that which he caught a glimpse of as she sped past him and his friends—was a look of mad determination.
As Harry watched her fly over Neville Longbottom's head and drop gracefully onto the dungeon steps, he prayed no one would try to interrupt her quest—whatever it may be.
The noise that was produced as his bedroom door crashed open made Severus Snape cringe; he would have leapt out of his skin, but he was in far too much pain for that. He winced when his mattress sank as Reign climbed up to him.
"Oh Kor..." Reign whispered between heavy breaths. The Great Potions Master lay sprawled out atop his comforter, his clothes still stuck to him, his hair mangled...and his face...
The pain of which Reign had been contemplating while he was gone was etched into his pale skin; blood still dripped from the corners of his mouth and nose. His dark eyes were barely open and hardly held life in them. The elf helped him open his eyes with one hand and wiped his blood away with the other. Severus opened his mouth to speak, but Reign stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"Don't talk. Just point to where it hurts." The man laid his hands on his chest. After much wasted time and effort, Reign managed to remove his frock coat and collared shirt. Beneath was a map of dark islands and deep canyons. Severus groaned as she ran her hands over the wounds.
"Shh..." she whispered as she bent down to kiss the bruises. After she rubbed the spot gently, it disappeared. She did this several times on his chest, and after each Snape's breathing became a little easier. When she was done she looked up to his face, which had regained some of its color. Severus looked at her with soft eyes, and pointed to his clavicle, where a large black bruise resided. Reign kissed the spot, grasping onto the man's arms as the pain flowed from his body to hers. When she was sure there was nothing left, she snapped her head up and rubbed the spot gently.
When she looked down at Severus, she smiled. The old smirk was back. He took one finger to her cheek and traced the outline of her face. It was then that Reign saw the scar above his left eyebrow. She touched it briefly, and Severus nodded. Leaning down to kiss it gently, she could feel the man's breath on her neck and his eyelashes against her skin as his eyes closed. A great and heavy sigh escaped his lips when she was done.
Reign leaned back once more and studied him carefully. He looked like himself again, save for a tiny scar on his lower lip. Reign thought it would heal just fine without her help: Severus thought otherwise.
He pointed to the injury.
Reign smirked.
"Now is that really life-threatening?" Severus nodded. Reign laughed softly as she bent down and took his lower lip into her mouth.
All other pain the Potions Master was experiencing was forgotten at that moment. Time paused as he and Reign kissed. It was an innocent enough embrace; his mouth really did hurt, after all. His sore hands slipped through her soft hair as their tongues danced. It was an ancient kiss, so gentle and yet so powerful that it could have passed for the very first kiss. Needless to say, Severus was disappointed when it ended.
Reign pulled back and steadied herself on Snape's legs. She could see a glitter in his eyes that she hadn't seen for eighteen years.
"What?" he asked, inquiring about her glazed-over stare. Reign blinked and took his hand in hers, kissing it gently.
"I'm glad you're all right."
"Well," he started, attempting to lift himself from his pillow, "I'm not dead." Reign laughed.
"I see your sense of humor isn't, either." She lifted herself from his body and helped him to a sitting position.
"My clothes, please," he said as he wrapped his arms around his lean frame in the cool air of his chambers. Reign retrieved the articles from the floor. As Severus dressed himself, he never took his eye off the elf. He looked as if he was itching to ask her something.
"What is it?" she laughed, crossing her arms.
"Reign," he began, taking her hands and pulling her to him, "I know that I am alive because of you." Reign huffed in protest. "The Dark Lord's torture should have killed me tonight. He was in an especially vengeful mood." He paused, looking down to the floor, remembering.
***
"Remind me, Severus...exactly whose side you are on?" The high-pitched shrill that was Voldemort's voice rang out from beneath his hood and stung Snape's ears as he fell to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth.
"I only serve you, my lord."
"Is that so? Hmm..." Voldemort circled the crippled man beneath him until he stood directly behind him. After he pulled Snape's hood down and ripped his mask off, he leaned in very close, grazing his ear with his cool, thin lips. "Why do I have such a hard time believing you then?" He threw Snape's head into the dirt and stood on his back. "Fellow Death Eaters," he announced, addressing the circle of robed figures gathered about the graveyard, "what shall we make of this here, Severus Snape, who claims he is one of us?"
A few of the figures shouted unmentionables at the fallen man, while some spit in the dirt next to his face.
"You have heard what he has been accused of, now let your judgment decide his fate." With one swift kick, Severus was lying on his stomach, looking up into the red eyes of Lord Voldemort. "Get up, Severus," he demanded. Very slowly, the Potions Master obeyed. As he lifted himself from the ground, he could barely make out the hisses of the Death Eaters, the silent curses crossing their lips. He could feel their truculent eyes upon him, their zeal for violence as he stood before their lord, who reached inside his robes and pulled out a long, black piece of wood. He raised it to Snape's forehead, but paused before cursing the man before him. Stepping forward, he whispered into Snape's ear.
"I'm giving you one last chance, Severus. Do you, or do you not, have any helpful information regarding the elf?" The Potions Master looked straight ahead, unblinking.
"No."
"Very well," Voldemort sighed, stepping back and raising his wand once more.
Severus had decided, a long time ago, that he would not help the Dark Lord destroy the elf—or worse, gain control over her powers. But as he stood there, swaying in the darkness, pondering Death, he refused to accept his situation. It wasn't his time; he would not let it be.
"Not yet," he whispered, lowering his head.
"Pardon?" The man with the red eyes asked, in a slightly mocking tone.
"I have no helpful information...not yet, anyway."
"What do you mean, 'not yet'?" Voldemort took one long, cold finger and lifted the man's chin. Snape's mind raced as he thought of something to get himself out of harm's way.
"This summer the elf has asked me to accompany her as she returns to her home."
"Her home was destroyed, Severus."
"I have reason to believe that there may be something left that she is going back for. Something that could be very useful to us—you, my lord."
"And what is this 'something'?"
Damnit.
"I am not exactly sure yet, my lord."
"Very well," came the reply as Voldemort raised his wand once more. Severus refused to shut his eyes, to bow his head; he would not die like a coward. But instead of the Killing Curse escaping Voldemort's thin lips, it was something else.
"Crucio!"
Severus fell to the ground as thousands of the sharpest knifes slashed through his skin. As he lay crumpled on the earth, the Dark Lord stepped over him.
"You have been spared, Severus," he said sternly, "for the last time."
***
Reign watched as Severus reflected. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting lightly on his lap. The brief glimpse of happiness that had shown in his eyes previously was now nowhere to be seen. She gazed silently at his chest—the steady rise and fall of it—as he stared at the rug that lay on the floor beneath his feet. Slowly, the elf swung her feet out from under her and joined him at the sitting position. They sat in silence for longer than was comfortable, until Severus spoke—causing Reign to jump, even if his voice only came as a whisper.
"Why am I still alive, Reign?" A heavy, defeated sigh came from next to him. "That was no ordinary kiss, was it?" With large, sympathetic eyes, Reign looked up into his.
"It is an ancient form of healing...and a very advanced one." Rising from the bed, Reign began to pace the room, keeping quiet until Severus cleared his throat. She stopped, looked at him, and sighed again. "I gave you a taste of immortality," she said simply. She was given a quizzical look by the Potions Master, who tilted his head and raised that cursed eyebrow, telling her that more specific information was required. "I gave you part of my life, Severus," she said quietly, her head lowered to the floor.
"You did WHAT?" he bellowed, rising from his seat. Reign put both hands on his chest and pushed him back down with a surreal force.
"Calm down. It's not as big of a deal as you are about to make it out to be. Elves are immortal, remember?" Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "It's not like I do it all the time, handing my life out to whoever desires it. I'd get too bloody cold..." she drifted off, "and then I would turn mortal and die."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"Well, better I do that than attend your funeral," she replied harshly. "It's already been done, Severus. Get over it." She took her seat next to him, and her upper lip twitched uncomfortably as they lapsed into a moment of silence.
It was quickly broken, however, by a familiar buzzing sound overhead.
Slowly looking up, Reign watched as the fly returned to torture them both. Severus followed her gaze, and as they watched together—both their necks aching slightly from the arch—Reign said quietly,
"Would you like to see what I have been working on all day?" Severus gave her a curious look, to which she smiled, never taking her eye off of the insect. It flew over to the shelves of books, passed a burning candle, and landed softly on the professor's desk, directly in front of the two adults. Then—after flexing its wings and rubbing its feelers together—it took off and headed straight for the elf. She, in turn, narrowed her eyes as they began to glow and swirl.
"Hmm...impressive," Severus observed from her side as the fly froze a few feet away from them.
"I try," Reign said as she stood up and plucked the insect from the air and placed it in her pocket.
"And just what are you planning to do with it?"
"Put him back where he came from—out a window, into the night..." Reign looked down as her stomach lurched. "On our way down to the kitchens." As if it was fate, Snape's abdomen protested at that very same moment.
"Excellent idea," he said as he stood. Reign wrapped her arm around his middle—as he was still very weak—and they walked together out of his rooms and toward a very large painting of fruit.
Tickling the pear until it giggled, Reign held Severus tight with one arm. As the painting swung open, she hauled him into the spacious kitchens and threw him down on the nearest stool. While she caught her breath, she heard scurrying all around her and caught glimpses of very small creatures darting about them. Soon there was a slight tug on her robe, and Reign turned, looking down at her assailant.
"Dobby welcomes Miss to—"
The poor house elf didn't have time to finish. Reign had leapt from her chair and it crashed to the ground as she picked the creature up by the neck and threw him onto the table in front of her. She grabbed her dagger and lifted it to his chin. Her eyes raged with a silent fire and her nostrils flared at the sight before her.
"Please, Miss, Dobby meant no harm—" He stopped as he caught sight of her ears.
And then Dobby the House Elf screamed.
Reign held on tight as he squirmed and whimpered beneath her.
"Please, Miss, Dobby does not wish to cause troub—" he cried.
"You couldn't even if you tried, you querulous plebian," she said through clenched teeth. She did not relax her grip as a hand rested on her arm.
"Did you think, with all of our meals being prepared by these creatures, that they wouldn't be here when we snuck in for a late-night snack?" Severus asked cautiously from beside her. "Let him go, Reign. He's definitely not worth the trouble." As soon as Reign relaxed, Dobby scurried off the table and fell onto the floor. Reign snorted as she sat down, mumbling, "I hate house elves" as several others of the species appeared slowly from their hiding places around the vicinity.
It was obvious to Severus, after seeing Dobby's reaction to an elf, that House Elves and their superior cousins did not have the best relations. But as to why Reign herself despised them so much, he had yet to find out.
As leftovers from that night's dinner were being laid out, the painting behind Reign and Severus slowly creaked open.
"Harry Potter! Harry Potter has come to see Dobby!" the House Elf shouted as he dropped a platter in front of the first two visitors and ran to the newcomer.
"Hello Dob—" Harry stopped at the sight of his least favorite professor and one of the more pleasant adults occupying Hogwarts.
"Harry, I'm starving! Go in already!" came the booming voice of Ron Weasley from behind him. When Harry didn't move, his redheaded best friend shot out from behind the door and over the ebony mess that was Harry's hair. "Oh," he said quietly, avoiding Professor Snape's famous glare.
"What's going on in there? Harry? Ron? Come on!" With a swift push, Harry and Ron stumbled into full view and Hermione came waltzing in after them. "Oh," she said, stopping abruptly, "Professor Snape...Reign. What a surprise to see you here."
"I should say the same about you three," Reign said as Ron and Harry gathered themselves after running into a nearby cutting counter.
"Sorry...it's just...we've been studying all evening for exams—"
"We?" asked Snape skeptically, eyeing Harry and Ron suspiciously. Hermione ignored him.
"...and we missed dinner...and the common room is dead bare...and we're awfully hungry—"
Severus held up a hand to silence her, and it was as if an invisible zipper had pulled itself over his student's lips.
"Well, you're all here. Have a seat," Reign said, motioning for them to sit around their table. She ignored the truculent glare from Severus, who—after a wasted effort to get her attention—stabbed his fork into the salad in front of him and proceeded to eat.
If it wasn't already an extremely uncomfortable situation for all of them, it got even worse when Dobby brought more platters filled with potatoes and stew. Very much by accident, a drop of stew managed to spill onto Reign. She jumped back from the mess, fumes coming out of her ears. It was a tense moment as Reign stood facing Dobby; she, shaking with anger: he, with the utmost fear.
"D-dobby is so s-sorry, Miss. D-dobby did not—"
"I don't want to hear it, House Elf," she snapped. "I just want a napkin." Dobby nodded, set down the trays he carried, and ran as fast as his legs would carry him away from the scene. Reign sat down just as he came shuffling back, napkin in hand.
"Here is the napkin Miss r-requested..." he said as he lifted a shaking hand to the elf. He looked away and shut his eyes, very afraid of any sort of punishment he might receive. Reign ripped the cloth from his tiny hands, shaking her head at the whimper that escaped his lips as he backed away from her.
"D-dobby is s-sorry, Miss—"
"I know, damnit!" she shrieked as she rubbed the stain from her clothing. All of the occupants around her jumped in their seats. Dobby shot out of her arms' length and retreated through the double doors opposite their table, not even glancing at the famous trio.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron were stunned—to say the very least—from what they just witnessed. Severus, on the other hand, continued to ignore his company, still enraged that he was dragged down to the kitchens to spend his night with Potter and company.
Harry and Ron recovered quickly from the shock of Reign and Dobby's encounter, digging into the delicious food laid out before them. Hermione, however, did not.
"Um...Reign?"
"Yes?" The elf acknowledged in a lighter tone, still scrubbing her attire.
"Is there something between you and Dobby that we should know about?" Reign halted in her cleaning to look up and scrutinize Hermoine.
"Besides as much distance as possible?" She bent down again, returning to her robe. "The nasty little pest..."
"What I mean to say is...is there something you have against Dobby?"
"Well, I had my dagger against him earlier, but your heroic Potions Master here stopped me in the middle of my mission." Hermione's eyes grew wide; needless to say, she was appalled. Both Harry and Ron looked up also, shocked at hearing Snape stopping such a bitter encounter. "I have something against all house elves, Miss Granger, not just Dobby," Reign said, answering her volatile glare.
"And why is that?" Hermoine snapped, turning to fully face the elf. Harry, Ron, and Severus had all stopped eating and were listening intently to the altercation about to unfold.
"This is not the time, nor the place, to discuss that, Hermione."
"Oh, I think this is the perfect place to do so. I'm sure these poor house elves would love to know why you seem to hate every single one of them—apparently for no good reason at all!" Everyone jumped but Hermione as Reign slammed her fist down onto the table. She spun around unnaturally fast to face the younger woman.
"Do not meddle in that which you do not understand," she hissed menacingly through clenched teeth.
"Then please, enlighten us," Hermione said lightly, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest. Reign looked from one eager face to the next—even Severus looked interested in what she had to say about House Elves.
"Fine," she said, throwing the napkin onto the counter, "you asked for it." Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks, while Severus and Hermione kept their eyes on the elf.
"Many...many years ago," she began, "the elves of my village employed the very same creatures working in these kitchens. Every household, no matter if they were rich or poor, also had a House Elf. Unlike wizards, however," she said in a slightly louder and more impatient voice after hearing Hermione snort in disgust, "elves clothed their servants, let them do as they pleased—wander the village, visit with others of their kind, etc. They had much more freedom under an elf's ownership than they do now with a wizards." Reign shook her head. "What a mistake that was...
"No matter how 'easy' house elves had it in our village, however, they still knew we were the superior race. They respected us—" She stopped when she heard Hermione cough into her hand, emitting a noise that sounded vaguely like "feared".
"And your House Elf?" Harry asked, to avert Reign's glare from his friend.
"Benie was his name; wily little plebian he was. Great cook, but never stayed around much. Only when my father was home, it seemed...
"My father was a member of the Order of the Spirit, the government and regime of our people—"
"Hey, that's kind of like the Order of—" Ron stopped as Harry jabbed him in the side. Reign ignored the interruption.
"He was the Keeper of the Order, and held all of the ancient secrets of our tribe. Benie knew this, just as the rest of the village knew..." Suddenly Reign's eyes glazed over as she remembered.
"It was raining the night they came. I was asleep in my room. I heard a knock on the door, heard my father's voice talking quietly with those outside in the storm. There were two of them. One had a high-pitched, awful voice that sent shivers down my spine as I listened to it in my bed. The other voice was more human, deeper...and oddly familiar, now that I think of it.
"I could hear the visitors asking to come inside...my father telling them it was late. Gradually the conversation grew louder, as they demanded entrance into our home and as my father denied it to them. I crawled out from my covers and went to the door, edging it open ever so slightly to get a good look at what was happening. My mother and brother were already in bed as the two strangers pushed my father inside and entered our home. The tall, hooded, high-pitched-voice figure stood close to my father as his companion tore apart my father's desk, searching for something.
"'There's nothing here, my lord. It's not here.' the man said after trashing my father's study. I heard my father ask what they were looking for. And I barely heard them answer as a clap of thunder shook the room.
"'The prophecy, old man...where is it?' demanded the shorter man. My father replied, saying he had no idea what they were talking about. I saw the taller man pull a wand from under his robes...before I knew it, a flash of green clashed with a flash of white...lightning lit up the room...and my father's dead body.
"I screamed from where I crouched behind my door. Not caring if they killed me too, I ran to my father and fell upon him, crying miserably. I heard—over the pounding in my head—the taller figure say to his other half that he knew my father did not have the prophecy, that 'the worthless house elf' had let them down, lied to them.
"And then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a small creature edge out from the shadows, shaking uncontrollably, mumbling his apologies to his 'master'.
"'I am extremely disappointed in you, Benie,' he said.
"'I know, master. Benie will not disappoint you again, master,' that wretched creature said, falling to the man's feet. I laid my head down upon my father's silent chest and saw, in the darkness of my closed lids, another flash of green. When I looked up I saw the limp body of Benie. Unlike my father's death, I had no pity for him. At that moment I was glad the stranger did what he did to that horrible, spineless, no good..." Reign's hands balled up into fists as her whole body tensed. Severus put a hand on her arm.
"'Do not fear, child,' came a raspy voice from above me, 'for death is a release, not a punishment.'" At that, Reign lowered her head and let the tears flow. "I was not a child then. This was twenty-five years ago. I didn't know it then...but that man, with the horrible voice...was Voldemort." There was a dramatic pause, where all four of her companions gasped. Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth in shock; Ron cringed at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, and both Severus and Harry stared at her with their mouths open. "Even though Voldemort did the deed, it was that damned house elf who led him to our home, who betrayed his family...who killed my father." She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around at the faces watching her, even the house elves brave enough to venture from their hiding places. "That is why I despise house elves, Hermione." The girl looked away as Reign rose and went to the sink to splash her face with water.
"None of this leaves this room, do I make myself clear?" hissed Severus. All three teenagers nodded slowly, in complete understanding.
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Is the plural of iris really irises? I couldn't figure it out. Anyway, hope this was worth your time. Did you catch the significance of Reign's House Elf's name? 'Benie'? Take a guess, I'll let you know next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews; I could just cry from happiness.
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