HARRY POTTER AND THE SEERS' TRUTH
BY Lady Lestange
The Seventh Suffering
Chapter 46
10 REVIEWS. Here's the new chapter— Sorry, we didn't stay with Ginny—Well, no I'm not sorry, but the next chapter continues in the Chamber. I really hate blackmailing you into reviewing, but hey, I'm a Slytherin. It's in my nature, so when there are 10 reviews for this chapter, the next one will magically appear. Love my readers and reviewers. Answers to reviews follow the story.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and previous situations belong to JK Rowlings. No infringement is meant or implied. No money is made from this Fanfic. THANKS JK.
--LADY LESTRANGE
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(A/N: I've been reading a number of fanfics in installments like this one myself, and find it is sometimes hard to remember exactly what has happened before-In a fic as complex as this one is, I thought having a reminder may be helpful for you. If you want to skip it, just page down FIVE times. --Lady Lestrange)
UP TO THIS POINT: Parvati has been having dreams and visions about the Dark Lord, Harry and a Prophecy Child. So far, they are not sure who the prophecy child is, and it is important for them to find him/her. The Sorting Hat is not sorting, so the students have "little brothers and sisters" to show around. The dream team thinks that The Sorting Hat failing is a plot to hide the Prophecy child from the teachers and anyone who can help insure that he/she stays on the side of light. No one is sure that the brothers and sisters actually belong to the house they are currently in.
The Hogwarts Express has been attacked. Dark Marks have been in the sky. The floo network is compromised. The Minister of Magic has been turned. Snape is now teaching both Defense and Advanced Defense, but it looks like Advanced Defense is just an excuse to let the Slytherins and Ginny and Edward visit the Dark Lord. Mrs. Figg is teaching potions and we know very little about her so far, except that she was against Dumbledore's suggestion to make Poly Juice Potion.
Beatrice is an animagus, a bunny. Edward's granny looks like she could have given the Dursleys a few pointers on cruelty. Slytherin is a house at war according to Snape, divided between Death Eaters and those who want to stay on the side of light. Harry uses his Invisibility Cloak and finds out when it is ripped, the Invisibility spell ceases. There is an unwelcome addition to Myrtle's bathroom, Olive Hornby. Peeves is his usual annoying self, but the Baron seems to have a little less control over him.
Samara, for some reason, lofts some wicked, powerful curses. She doesn't look like she has total control over them, which isn't really surprising since she's learned magic on her own from a book, that Harry is sure is a dark book. She seems to like Draco, but don't assume this is a romance. It is not. Ginny is still hearing voices in her head. Harry's scar is hurting more, and neither he nor Ginny know what this means. Ginny is closer with Harry this year, but again, not romantically. There is Edward, the new Gryffindor, who seems interested in Ginny, but Ginny really hasn't gotten over Tom.
We find out about Neville's powerful auror parents. We learn that Neville has a memory charm that was put on him as a baby. He's a more powerful wizard than anyone ever thought as evidenced by his yew wand and the way he reacts to Snape's ministrations in trying to remove the memory charm. We might wonder why Snape is trying to do this himself, instead of enlisting the help of Madam Pomfrey. Sirius and Lupin are on "fieldtrips" with the sixth and seventh years.
Of course we can also wonder why Snape is so determined to teach his classes advanced spells like the Patronus, or we can just chalk it up to Snape, being mean. The Fifth year class starts apparition classes and we meet Professor Sinistra. We also visit Hufflepuff, where we see The Wall, and Slytherin house, where we discover, to our amazement, a magic room that Draco shares with Samara, but Samara has a very unslytherin use for the room. Ravenclaw to come next weekend.
The chapter, CHAINED AND CHARMED, takes place at the same time as DANCING IS AN OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE-when Samara was in Slytherin, dancing. It is Saturday afternoon. Harry and the Gryffindors examine Samara's Dark Book, after they come back from lunch. They find an extreme potion, and decide they need to make a trip to the Chamber of Secrets. Ghastly Ghostly Dinner is when Gryffindor's meet with Samara after her little trip to Slytherin. Samara and Beatrice are persuaded by Edward to help him steal his snake back from his brother Ethan. Things get a little out of hand, and Samara learns more about Slytherin than she ever wanted to know.
Now the Gryffindors are mad at her. Samara wants to make up and be friends with them, but is it possible to befriend both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy? How far will she go to make up, or will she just find some valuable information to store away for future use? (So, don't you want one of those Tee shirts?)
LIONS AND TIGERS: We see a very stressed out Snap both in Harry's memory of what happened with Snap and Neville and in the actual DADA class. We find out Trelawney doesn't want Samara in her class and Samara decides to take Ancient Runes instead. McGonagall assures Samara that Trelawney has done her a favor. McGonagall further talks to Samara about her experiences in Gryffindor, opening the door to give Samara someone to talk to, if she so chooses. We also learned lots more about animagi in McGonagall's class. Snape dismisses the Gryffifndors and keeps the Slytherins after class. We find out it's because Snape wants them to practice their patronus because the Slytherins are so lousy at the spell. Could it be because there are so few happy memories to chose from?
In DRAGON BREATH AND BLUDGER BATS, Ginny and Edward set the Slytherins up with fire mints, and Samara gets extremely angry at them both because they hurt her friends. In an effort to contain her anger, she goes to the Quiddich pitch where she meets Fred and George. After lobbing a few quaffles at them in her anger, they decide to ask her to be a Beater for Gryffindor. She refuses, but later when she talks to Draco, he is not very nice to her, (hey, who said Draco was a nice guy?) so she wonders whether or not she should take the Beater job.
In WISH IT REAL; WISH IT NOT we see into one of Ginny's dreams. If you don't remember this dream, go and re-read chapter 28. In Chapter 29, THE SPELLING BEE, Samara is feeling homesick and friendless until Draco invites Samara back to Slytherin. Also, includes a short intro into what's coming up in potions class.
In Chapter 30, CHILD OF GRYFFINDOR, Neville and Snape break the Imperio part of the Memory Charm. The trio discusses the Founders' spells, which put their gifts in the Sorting Hat; however they do not have the original parseltongue version of Salazar's spell. Ginny also sees Edward painting and the reader sees a bit of Ginny and Tom's relationship. In SLYTHERIN GAMES—Well, if you don't remember it, you better re-read. Voldemort is finally out and angry—burning and pillaging and we see a little-known inside version of Slytherin through Ginny's eyes. In STICKY SITUATIONS, Samara uses her adhere charm on the Weasley twins, Neville sticks Beatrice's wand to his with bubble gum, and Edward is sticking in Gryffindor.
In OW POST the Slytherins get even for the Dragon Breath Mints, among other things—
In the Ravenclaw chapter—I'm still trying to think of a good name for it—Help me please—we meet a number of Ravenclaws and find out a little more about the characters, in Ravenclaw as well as Edward and Samara. So do you think either of them are really Ravenclaws? Hmmmm? In chapter 35 we meet Sirius again who plans to have a talk with Dumbledore about his keeping Harry safe and of course what that nasty Snape is doing to poor Neville. The Quiddich Game and then more of Neville's awesome Auror parents.
The war is heating up and touching the lives of the children. This story is rapidly approaching –nasty things. Not for the faint of heart. Last chapter, we had a relaxing time at Hogsmeade. Samara bounces from friend to friend and Harry has some nasty dreams, and Harry is shocked to find out that Ron and Hermione are a couple. We knew that already though, right?
In THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS the trio did some exploring, but failed to find the basilisk eggs. They found other things though. Obviously, they have to go back, but first Ginny gives them some instructions.
In THE CHAMBER, THE WALL, THE WAND AND THE WINDOW, Ginny gives the trio some instructions about the Chamber, the Gryffindor boys are having trouble sleeping and Harry's talking to the Snake, Kauket. Parvati has yet another vision, about a muggle and the earlier one about the wand is explored. Trelawney tells Ginny she will open a window to the past—Didn't she already do that? Is T
relawney a little late with this prediction, or does it mean something else?
In NO MORE GAMES we return to ADADA class and Ginny finds out by using the Quick Quotes Quill that the class is more than she planned, but the notes are stolen, so she has no proof to go to Dumbledore with—So she takes matters into her own hands. In PERVIGILO ARMARO, we see part of Ginny's awesome ward. Doors are opened and Tom is out, but he isn't everything we thought he would be. Could it be that he's keeping secrets from us? Puppy Puffs and the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Quiddich game offer a little comic relief. Chapter 44, MORS MORDRE. Ginny gets a dark mark. 'nouf said. BLOOD AND MAGIC MINGLED is Ginny reaction to Voldemort's Imperio curse, and a trip to the Chamber. In THE SEVENTH SUFFERING, We leave Ginny in the Chamber, while we go off with Samara to find out what happened to Ginny in Slytherin this morning, but Samara gets side-tracked.
Be warned, this chapter is the reason this fic is rated PG-13.
--Lady Lestrange
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A/N: This idea came to me in a dream—OK, really it was a nightmare—so being the Slytherin I am—Here it is for your enjoyment---or your discomfot. Muhahahaha. Cough. Chokes. But remember, it's just a story….
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The Seventh Suffering
Chapter 46
"Hermione, I don't understand," said Samara. "First you wanted to grow your hair long, and now you want to shorten it? Why don't you just cut it?"
"It's not the length of the hair that matters," said Beatrice. "It's the fact that she can alter it at will."
"You should try it, Samara," said Hermione. "I'll bet you could do it too."
"The one who should try this is Harry Potter," said Beatrice. "If anyone needed to have an animagus it's him."
"I'm sure I can convince him sooner or later," said Hermione. "Come on Samara, try to change the length of your hair."
"Oh, there's no point in talking to my hair. It never listens to me anyway," she laughed. "Besides, I've got enough schoolwork without adding anything that I don't have to do, thanks very much." Samara finished twisting her hair into it's knot and stuck her wand through it. Did you try to wake Ginny?" she asked.
"I tried," said Hermione, but nothing's getting through that ward. "I hope she's OK."
Samara stood for a moment at their dorm room door. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me, Beatrice?"
"Nope," said Beatrice. "I'm going over to Hufflepuff for supper. I have no desire to go to Slytherin."
"But it's for Ginny."
"You'll deal with Draco much better on your own anyway, Samara," said Beatrice. "Maybe Edward will go with you if you want moral support."
Samara sighed. No, she thought. Having Edward with her would not help her to get through to Draco.
"I don't know what you are so worried about," said Hermione. "You know he likes you. He hasn't even called you a Mudblood, Samara. He'll tell you what happened to Ginny. If he doesn't tell you because he likes you. He'll tell you so he can gloat. I know he will."
"I guess you're right, Hermione." Said Samara.
"Of course, I'm right."
"OK," said Samara reluctantly. "Find out if Sally Anne's dad is any better, OK Beatrice?"
"Sure." Beatrice nodded and smiled.
==
The distance across the Great Hall to the Slytherin table seemed to be miles. When Samara got there, she hesitated. Draco did not even look up, but Vincent Crabbe did.
"Do you think I could have your seat?" she asked him.
"Sure, Samara," said Vincent, moving to the other side of Greg Goyle.
Samara slid into his seat. "I wanted to apologize," Samara told Draco.
Draco looked at her. His aura, a swirling mass of dark reds immediately pulled in closer to his body, closing her out. "You did that already," he said. "Anyway, how sincere could you be? You meant to curse me."
"You did it first!" Samara accused, and Draco's aura darkened, and although no indication of anger showed on his face, she realized that his guard was up—Did he feel threatened? She took a deep breath, trying to be patient with his stubbornness. "I know what I did was wrong," she whispered, putting her hand on his shoulder. Immediately, she knew that was the wrong thing to do and she pulled her hand back. "Draco, I didn't finish it. I stopped. Do you think we could start over—"
"I don't think I want to do that," he said.
Samara waited for a few moments, watching him eat. His aura was still pulled close to his body, turbulent and dark. This wasn't working. She stood with the intention of going back to Gryffindor table, but as she passed, Pansy, the girl stretched out her hand and caught Samara's.
"Sit with us," she said, making room between her and Lauren. Samara sat.
"No one is more stubborn than Draco," she said.
"So I see," said Samara. She wasn't really surprised. She knew when she first met him that he could be stubborn to the point of obstinancy, but she just never expected that side of him to be directed at her. "I really didn't come over here to make up with Draco anyway."
Pansy looked at her. "Really?"
"Well, I mean, I'd like to make up with him, but I thought I'd just give him a little more time. His aura is still really closed, and what I really came over for, was to find out what happened to Ginny this morning. Her aura looks like—Well, Pansy, you saw what I see—I can't ignore Ginny's aura and pretend that nothing has happened. Her aura is completely changed. When I touched her, I felt –a lot of dark magic. She's sick, Pansy. She's my friend. I want to help her."
Pansy and Lauren exchanged glances.
"She isn't the first one, to have these changes, but hers was the most dramatic—first there was Millicent and then Alvin and now Ginny—"
"We can't talk about this here," said Lauren, abruptly pushing away from the table. "Are you finished eating?"
"Yes," said Samara, standing and leaving half of her food still on the plate.
The three girls went to the Slytherin dungeon, and down to the girls' room. Millicent was in the room reading when they got there. Lauren shut and warded the door.
Millicent looked up. "Private conversation?" she asked.
"Well, sort of—but you can hear if you want to, I guess," said Pansy. "Remember what I was telling you the other day, after I did the polyjuice switch with Samara?"
"--About her being able to tell who had the Dark Mark by their auras, if she knew what she was looking for?" questioned Millicent.
"Yeah," said Pansy. "Well, she sort of—figured it out."
"But Ginny?" began Samara. "She wouldn't get a Dark Mark. She isn't—" Samara pulled her wand. "What did you do—"
"Us," spat Millicent. "That's rich! No one twisted her arm. Personally, I think Snape tried to stop her. Too much flack from Dumbledore if one of the Gryffindors got a Dark Mark."
"I thought only Slytherins—"
"Oh, yeah, Samara. That's right," said Millicent bitterly. "It's only the Slytherins who are evil. Not those goodie goodie Gryffindors. Well, believe me, if I already have the reputation of being evil, and have to endure the prejudice anyway, I might as well have the gold and glory. If I have a choice between being weak and evil and powerful and evil, I'm choosing the power. Excuse me," she said gathering up her books. "Us, Death Eaters have to study too."
After Millicent left, Lauren and Pansy's aura's both lightened and extended out from their bodies slightly.
"Lauren?" questioned Samara. "Alvin too?"
"Yeah," Lauren said softly. "We had agreed—that we wouldn't—and Snape won't force anyone. He told us that. It has to be our own choice. But Draco has been pressuring him—"
"Draco?"
"Yeah. Draco," said Lauren. "It's been hard for Alvin to stay with us girls. And then, Mr. Nott didn't agree either. On Thursday, he came and got him.
"Alvin's Dad?"
"Yeah," said Lauren. "He said he had been embarrassed by Alvin's cowardice long enough."
Tears brimmed for a moment in Lauren's eyes and then with a loud bang, that made Pansy and Samara both jump, the pillows exploded on one of the beds. The fire was immediately quenched with an out-pouring of water from Lauren's fingertips. "That skinny old zombie! He should have died years ago! Do you know his father is older than Dumbledore? I would have cursed him myself if I'd have known—I never wanted to do Avada Kadavra, but--Damn him!" Lauren stood with fists closed over the magic in her hands.
Pansy handed Lauren her wand. "Those were my pillows," she said softly.
Lauren held her wand for a moment, looking at them. "Sorry, Pansy. I think they're beyond reparo. I'll buy you some new ones." She said as she dried the bed and removed the soot stains with her wand.
"It isn't unusual for them to get sick," said Pansy. "It's the foreign magic that does it. I'd say give Ginny a few hours and she'll be all right. Well, I mean as all right as they ever get again after being connected to –Him."
"I just can't believe Ginny would—why? It doesn't make any sense."
"Actually, it does," said Lauren. "It was the influence of the diary."
"What?"
"There was this diary—" said Lauren. "Draco and I used to play with it when we were little. Of course, Aunt Narcissa and Uncle Lucius had forbidden Draco to touch it, but sneaking it was half the fun. When we finally figured out that it had belonged to the Dark Lord, we dared each other to write in it. Not enough to be possessed of course, as if we knew what it took to be possessed--Then in our second year, Uncle Lucius gave it to Ginny Weasley and she was possessed by it.
"That would have been Ginny's first year?" asked Samara, and Lauren nodded. Visions of the number of times that Ginny had said—I had this friend, first year—this Slytherin—first year—he was not my boyfriend—first year—"My God," whispered Samara.
There was a long silence. At last, Pansy broke it. "I think, Draco's looking for you, Samara."
Samara looked up in surprise. "How do you do that?"
"It's her gift," said Lauren. "Telepathy."
"But why with Draco?"
"Because they were a couple until he got his Dark Mark," said Lauren. "And then—"
"Lauren—" Pansy said warningly, and another silence stretched before them.
"I think I'll go," said Samara. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to be alone to think. She walked up to the Common room, and although there was several Slytherins in the room, they didn't give her a second glance. She was cautious nonetheless, pulling her hood up around her face and hurrying forward. It seemed strange. She knew everyone in Gryffindor Tower, and if this were Gryffindor half dozen people would have called 'hello' or invited her to play exploding Snap, but Slytherins were more private. No one had a reason to speak to her, and she seemed in a hurry so they didn't delay her. She went directly to the picture of Salazar and the green door, but stopped before she got too close. She wished she could get into the room to dance. She needed something to clear her head. Maybe flying, she thought as she retraced her steps, sat down in the gold and green sofa and looked at the fire.
If Draco was looking for her, he obviously wasn't looking very hard. Thoughts of Ginny and the Dark Lord's diary were running through her mind. First she was stunned. Then she was amazed. Then she was angry. Why hadn't Ginny told her? She stood up and paced the length of the floor, which took her back to the picture of Salazar Slytherin behind which was the green door. The snake was still sleeping on his shoulder.
"Hey!" she told the picture angrily. "Tell your snake to wake up."
The image of Salazar smirked at her. He lifted a bejeweled finger and stroked the snake between its closed eyes. The huge emerald on his hand glittered as brightly as Salazar's green eyes as he brought his finger to his lips signifying silence.
"No picture is going to tell me what to do," she muttered as she prodded the snake with her finger. "Wake up," she told the snake, and the doorway opened soundlessly. Still no one looked at her.
She stared at the open door in surprise for a moment, and then shrugged. Maybe Salazar knew she wanted to dance.
"Well. Thanks," she said.
She slipped quickly behind the door and ran down the thirteen steps before she thought to light her wand. She paused at the landing and lit it. Then she continued, still hurrying. What if the great door did not let her in? Draco had said it would only open to Slytherins. Well no matter. If she had to, she would wait outside the secret chamber and hope that no one found her sulking there. At least the corridor would be a quiet place to think.
She paused at the door concentrating. It was a complicated ward. One that she had never seen before. She studied it for several minutes, her hands feeling the texture of the wall. Several spots started to show signs of edges. "Open," she murmured almost to her self. "I will have this secret—" When she looked at the edges, they moved. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one appear. What would a Slytherin do? She ignored it. And then another. The first disappeared, but she thought it stayed in the same place. Studiously, she ignored it. Almost an hour later, she finally discerned where the whole perimeter was. At last she ran her wand around the whole edge without stopping. She heard a small click. IT OPENED. She had opened it. Draco was wrong. You didn't have to be a Slytherin. You just had to—well--understand them.
She took off her shoes and felt the warm earth beneath her feet. Warm? Something was different here. She sensed—Draco's magic—what they had shared and more-- something else—painful--Someone else—Uninvited—leaving discordance behind them. Who she wasn't sure—Who knew about this room? Snape? No, not Snape. Not Slytherin. No, that wasn't possible. It had to be a Slytherin—but who? She turned the puzzle over and over in her mind.
Suddenly her heart dropped to her knees. What if Snape came in here instead of Draco? What if anyone came in here instead of Draco? Perhaps she should run. Run home to Gryffindor. Oh yeah, that was Gryffindor bravery alright! Run to Hufflepuff and make a few shirts. Desert those who need you. That was loyalty for you. The colors and swirls from her current emotions were filling the air around her. She didn't like how they looked—discordant and fragmented—adding to the turmoil of the uninvited guests and Draco—unhappy and hurting.
With a sigh she raised herself up on the balls of her feet and began to dance, humming the song she heard in her heart. There didn't seem to be anything else she could do here. The dance soothed her fragmented nerves, as the song broke through her lips.
Ginny. Taking the Dark Mark. And Draco. What could she have been thinking to have cursed him with that curse? Imperio! Sometimes she just acted before her brain was attached. He would tell her in his own good time or not. Did it make a difference? Yes, she told herself as she gave herself to the dance, it did, because it defined trust— If he couldn't trust her enough to know she wouldn't hurt him or his family willingly, then what was their relationship based upon? Did they even have a relationship? Well, not now, she mourned. Not after what she did. Unforgivable. How could he trust her, after that? What could she do to make it up to him? And what about Ginny? Had she ever been her friend? Was there any trust between them either?
The beat of her heart was fast and turbulent, pouring out her anxiety for Ginny and the hurt she had caused Draco. The dance was cathartic and healing and wild.
She felt the magic of the room subtly change. He had entered the room. He stopped, waiting. She felt his emotions—surprise—determination—and something else—something unknowable. She faltered and then poured energy into the dance. She didn't want him to know that she sensed his presence—not yet.
Hadn't she already told him she was sorry? What could she say now? She said nothing, but she finally slowed her wild dance, waiting. He approached her, also in silence and took her hand. His arm went around her waist and he began to move to music that she didn't even hear. It was a waltz. Did anyone waltz anymore? Only Slytherins, she thought. She felt the three beat cadence and followed easily, her body attuned to the room's rhythms, and his. Her left leg had slipped between his and he pulled her close for balance and guidance. His aura was its usual murky dark red. He didn't seem angry. She couldn't place the emotion emanating from him. It seemed to defy definition, flitting from one emotion to another. They continued to dance quietly. His body was warming and she acutely felt his breath on her neck . . . His hand gripping her fingers. . . His palm on her back where sweat was starting to make her robe cling . . His lips touched hers once. Twice. Finally, he sat on the ground pulling her with him.
"I don't want to ruin this," he said. "He kissed her deeply and then turned her so she was settled in his lap, but couldn't see his face. She could however see his aura which radiated out several feet beyond his legs and his arms which were still wrapped around her.
It was black.
She did not speak. Did not dare to breathe.
"My sister was eleven," he said. Immediately the aura began to clear.
She hadn't even dared to touch him with her gift. She knew he would feel it and was afraid it would scare him away from her.
"She died when she was eleven. My sister Aislinn--Roan predicted her death in first year. He said, 'It's always the innocent who die first." He was speaking to Harry Potter, but he looked directly at me—"
"Draco, I was wrong to ask."
"Hush," he said. "Don't interrupt me." He spoke in a monotone voice, like someone who was given veritaserium.
Darkness covered his aura again.
"She was cursed--a squib—like your brothers. Do you know what happens to squibs in Slytherin families?"
Samara opened her mouth to speak and then shut it. She shook her head.
"Ugly things You see, Salazar Slytherin had decreed that there would be no squibs if we only married pureblood wizards, but he was wrong. Every seven generations or so, a family will start producing squibs. Sometimes one, two, three squibs would be born before the true--child. This was simply an inconvenience to be--dealt with.
Draco took a deep breath and continued. My parents knew she was a squib, but they kept trying to get her to exhibit some sort of magical qualities: Study. Pain. Fear. Sometimes—"
Draco broke off. His aura flickered roughly with the thoughts. It was difficult for him to speak of this time, but Samara could also see his aura clearing little by little, so she did not stop him. The darkness was leaking from his aura and entering the room. The room was sucking away what he wanted to leave behind. Samara realized that he had thought about this for a long time here in this room. He must have sat here thinking—'what shall I say?' It was the same magic and the same pain she saw in the new colors of the room.
She suddenly understood that he was not mad at her Imperio curse. He was frightened to tell her something he had never told before—Frightened? Embarrassed? Uncertain? Yes. That was the emotion. It was such a new and unaccustomed feeling for him, he dealt with it by pushing her away, but he was here now.
She let her hands linger, warm against his. His fingers were long and flawless. They were perfectly manicured and without scars, or blemishes or calluses. Presently, they were devoid of magic, but as she touched them, he unconsciously spread them an equal distance apart, as if ready to do a spell, but no magic sprang into them.
"Sometimes," he began again, "When my sister was frightened—or hurting—I--I would help her. Little things. My parents knew." He took a deep breath. "I didn't understand then about magical signatures. I thought I was helping. Showing her how to do something that she thought was hard. My parents locked me away from her the summer before Hogwarts—so I couldn't help her. While they—they—
He took a deep, ragged breath. "My parents tried everything. Nothing worked."
Then they sent me to stay with my cousins for a while—Gawd—I hate them." Abruptly, he pulled a handful of magic from the room—Fire, Samara realized.
Which cousins? She wondered, but she didn't interrupt.
Aislinn owled me during my first year. She begged me to get her away from them, but I was eleven, only a year older than her. What could I do?" Draco let the magic drop--drip, drip, drip, from his fingers until he was empty again.
"Here were the great and powerful Malfoys and they had brought a squib into the world. It was an embarrassment that would not be borne. She had to be a witch. My parents willed for her to be a witch.
Sometimes they blamed it on each other. My father said that my mother pulled Elemental Magic when she was too young, and my mother said it was my father's Slytherin inbreeding and they both blamed it on the Longbottoms for cursing them—They blamed each other, but they weren't the ones who suffered. It was only Aislinn who suffered. Damn Longbottoms," muttered Draco. "I wish they could see their own squib son—"
"Neville?" thought Samara. "Was he talking about Neville Longbottom?"
Draco took a breath and continued. "You see, my father had a task for Aislinn, if only she was a witch, even a poor one. He had a diary that belonged to Lord Voldemort when he was sixteen years old. At that time, Our Dark Lord was gone, wiped out of power by—by—no matter. Father thought that Aislinn could write in the diary on her first year at Hogwarts and open the Chamber of Secrets. Father had given a great deal of thought to the plan. Then even if she were a weak witch, she would still be remembered as the witch who gave Lord Voldemort life again. She would be honored. And the Malfoy name would be honored."
Samara dared not move or speak and break the tenuous thread that Draco was following.
But Aislinn's eleventh birthday came and there was no letter from Hogwarts. There was no letter from any wizarding school, because Aislinn had absolutely no magical powers. Her birthday was in January. Five months later at the summer solstice, June 21, after I had turned twelve, my parents decided they should perform the sacrifice. They didn't tell me until that day. There was a special potion to heighten the senses that they gave to her. I remember asking why I couldn't have any.
Draco took a slow ragged breath. "We were in the garden—It's a place of power--elemental magic—earth, fire, running water—"
Draco shook his head. He looked ready to burst with sadness, but no tears were shed. Aislinn fought. She had to be put under the Imperio curse and then she lay there, still as a stone. She didn't even try to fight it. I didn't know then, that muggles and squibs have no power to fight it.
Samara started to speak but he held up his hand for silence.
"The ritual requires the crucious curse. My father was to perform it on Aislinn."
"Your father," Samara burst. "That's barbaric! Inhuman!"
"He's not human. He's a wizard."
"Your mother?" Questioned Samara in a whisper, "surely she—"
"She was to do the killing-," said Draco.
Of course," Draco continued "That was only much later. Death was the easy part. Seven different forms of Crucio first.
"Oh gawd," Samara felt like she was going to be sick.
"But it didn't happen that way. They argued about which curses would be the most powerful and in what order. Bone or blood or flesh--They argued—about which form of crucious," Draco spat. "about the order of the Elementals—They couldn't agree on any of it. Draco recited as if from a Book:
Inferior flesh from the muscle is torn
Under the sea a new creature is born.
Bury the squib like a muggle in earth.
Fire enkindles a new wizard's birth.
Impurities crushed by blood and by bone.
The seventh suffering to make your own.
Avada Kadavra completes the rift
Flow to the true child all magical gifts.
"They were—my parents were arguing over which crucious curses would be the most powerful when—" Draco's voice cracked and he bit his lip.
"And then Father said, 'Let's just get this over with—'
When I realized what they were going to do—I—I—flung myself in front of her—and took—and took—"
Draco shuddered with the memory. "So, stupid," he muttered.
"Oh Draco," Samara said. "It wasn't stupid. It was brave."
"Ha! That's rich!" said Draco, suddenly no longer able to sit still. "My parents were just glad I'd been sorted already. They kept blaming each other for that little Gryffindor stunt."
"It wasn't strictly Gryffindor," said Samara following him. "A Hufflepuff would do something like that too, for love."
"Oh, that makes me feel lots better," said Draco, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
There was a long silence. Samara didn't know what to say. She just stayed with him and held him and watched his aura flickering like a weak candle, first yellow and then with varying shades of russet and orange, and the red overlay, dripping over it all like blood. After a while, Draco licked his lips and started talking again.
"I was so tired. I—hurt." Draco shuddered. "If you've never felt crucio, you can't imagine. They had sent the first two crucio curses together. I don't know if they meant to or not, but that meant that the spell—Aislinn's sacrifice--was considerably weakened. My fault." He took a deep breath. "They were so angry." Draco whispered.
"When I realized they were going to kill her, I tried to escape—I could floo--I thought of Professor Snape—He would help me—help her.
My father bound me to a chair. I had to be present, you see, because I was part of the reason for this sacrifice. Her life's blood, even as a squib would strengthen my magic and I wasn't as powerful a wizard as my parents wished. That Mudblood Granger got higher marks than me all first year, so they had to do this, because we are Malfoys. We have to be the best."
"I tried to protect her from them, but only managed to shield her from two of them."
"Draco," whispered Samara. "You did all you could."
But Draco shook his head. "Even if they hadn't bound me to the chair, I wouldn't have taken any more.
I just wouldn't have done it. It hurt too much to take voluntarily. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the screams. She looked at me. I could feel her eyes on me. She just looked at me and I had to open my eyes. We never lost eye contact until the end, when her life force slammed into me and I lost consciousness."
"When I awoke, My father talked to me about—it. He said she wouldn't have wanted to live like that, with no magic. It was better this way. This way, something of her could live on in me.
I suppose he was right. I wouldn't want to live without magic—to be able to touch it and smell it and see it, and never use it. That would be torture. Her whole life would have been a torture, wouldn't it?" Draco looked at Samara as if for confirmation.
The question rattled Samara. She thought of her brothers and knew without a doubt that they would choose to live, but she couldn't say that. She couldn't say anything.
"I don't know," she said at last. "I guess I never thought about it."
"Father talked about the new power I should feel. I did feel some, but it wasn't impressive. I didn't realize what she had given me. Not then. Not until-- later. My father had always said love was for the weak, but he is wrong. Her love—gave me a barrier to perform against Crucio. She was a squib, and she did that. I don't know how, but I know it isn't in the ritual. I looked."
"Crucio doesn't hurt you?" said Samara stunned.
"Oh, no," said Draco. "It still hurts, it's just not at crucio mentally. Even in the pain, I know it's a curse. That's what drives wizards crazy with the crucious curse. They really think they are dying—torn apart or drowned or burned or suffocated or crushed or whatever—over and over again. I can acknowledge the pain, and although I can't completely block it, I can stay focused on the fact that it is not real and eventually it will stop. Aislinn thought she was dying seven times—a sob caught in his throat—but he shed no tears.
"Five times, Draco," said Samara. "You saved her from two."
"I did, didn't I?" His voice was soft, and small and alone.
Samara wrapped her arms around him and held him. No, not alone, now, she thought. She was here with him. "Draco, you didn't need to do this—for me. I shouldn't have asked. Shouldn't have—pushed you—"
If ever she wanted to heal him it was now, but she hesitated. All mixed up in the pain was the protection that Aislinn had given him. Until Samara was sure that she would only take away his pain and not his protection she was afraid to try to help him.
"And now, you're wishing you hadn't asked," he said. "Or wishing I hadn't told you."
"No." Samara hesitated. "I'm glad you know you can trust me."
He took a deep breath and seemed to get a grip on himself, the molten red of his aura gaining the confidence that she was used to seeing.
"And do you know, you can trust me too?" he asked softly.
With each word, the ripples grew, a vast untamed power underneath—more power than she had ever seen in him. "I won't lose you,' he said, his gray eyes intense.
"I'm here," she said gripping his hand. "For you to share this, when we haven't know each other all that long—" she paused, feeling terribly guilty that she'd been less than honest with him. But she couldn't tell him she was muggle born now. Later. It would have to be later. As soon as there was an appropriate time, she promised herself, she had to tell him.
"It must have been an awful night for you," she said.
"It wasn't over yet," he whispered. "Mother came in afterwards. She talked about control and my lack of it until I finally told her to shut up."
"Ha!" Draco laughed shortly, but his aura was filled with fear. There was fear, even in the memory. "I guess that confirmed my lack of control—If I'd have been in control, I would never have told her to shut up."
"But she got very quiet then," said Draco. "Mother's always most dangerous when she's quiet. She said, 'How could I ever hope to master magic, if I couldn't even master my own tongue.' Then she left me alone. I thought it was over, but she came back, later that night. She said, that I had to understand, there were consequences to my actions."
Draco became quiet, the silence stretching before them, as Samara waited for him to finish. "There are always consequences," he whispered. She had to lean close to hear what he was saying.
Mother performed the other five crucious curses—the ones I missed—I think I would have went crazy then if Aislinn hadn't given me—what she did. Mother said—said if I ever interfered with another of her spells—I would think the day Aislinn died was a holiday and those crucio's a tickling spell."
"Your mother—" whispered Samara.
"I hate her," said Draco. "I hate them both."
==
PLEASE REVIEW
(A/N: Next chapter: Back to the Chamber with Ginny and Edward. I promise, you will never again see Draco so vulnerable. You wanted more Draco--"And now, you're wishing you hadn't asked," he said. "Or wishing I hadn't told you."
After I wrote this chapter, I felt a terrible need to write something funny. I wrote the poem 'Twas the Order of the Phoenix. If you've read it, you now know why the wit is so caustic in that poem.) Lady Lestrange
Thanks to my reviewers:
Kemenran
More coming and more Chamber too, next chapter.
Reiven:
Sorry about your ulcer. Are you really worrying about my characters—
Silverfox1
Ginny knows they won't find the eggs in the potions room, because they already looked there, but even if they didn't, she is going to take them right to the hatching ground and they will have no reason to look elsewhere.
Ennui2
Millie is definitely a Slytherin, not a Ravenclaw. Yep. She'll be back.
Hayes1966
Yep. Ethan will be a little upset when Edward gets back. No omelets yet. I think this chapter explains why Draco asked Voldemort if he would be allowed to practice crucio on his mother.
Trillium:
You like Goyle? Yuk. Mud flavored beans and all?
Eizoku:
Edward's gonna get lost? Think so? Ginny rescuing him? Wonder what Tom will think of that. Silly boys.
Slytherin's Silver Snake:
Dark enough for you? Yes, more Snape in the next chapter.
Raven 173
OK Hermione has some qualities to be the Prophecy Child. She's Hufflepuff helpful, although I don't think she'd like to hear that she could have been Hufflepuff. Gryffindor brave, definitely Ravenclaw and there are a few Draco/Hermione scenes that would work with a stretch, but I think she would be appalled to think that anyone would even consider that she has a Slytherin bone in her body. I actually considered her, but she didn't like it. That's why I found it so funny that you said Hermione.
TaJu Akiel
Ha! You've found out my secret. The adhesive charms on the computers! Now what should I do? Obliviate! What kind of charm?
Kirizchi
I read your story. Awesome. If my readers want to read a well written "Harry" story, try Kirixchi. She has a Harry that is a strong character. I like him a lot! And I generally don't read Harry stories because they are too sappy. Go check her out. Kirixchi read my Bellatrix story first so I don't think she'll be as fooled by Edward as the earlier readers were. I'm anxious to hear your thoughts, Kirizchi. As you read, let me know if you think Edward is as 'sweet and innocent' as my earlier readers seemed to think he was.
Smily cow: Thanks for alerting me to the fact that I misspelled Mungo's and reparo. I was looking up fix/ repair on a Latin translator site, and that's where I got the repairo. I just figured JK used it from there, but she didn't. I probably spelled it differently throughout the book, unfortunately I can't set my spellchecker to keep new words like the spells, and I have to keep looking them up. Thanks for keeping your eyes open for me.
Ele- Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh- (No. that's not parseltongue.)
Kristy-secludedexistence Glad you're reading. Sorry I have a few more chapters on this one and a sequel coming. After you get to chapter 20 or so, you won't be worried about how long it is. Just take it one chapter at a time. No rush.
If you have not yet reviewed, please do so now.
Lady Lestrange