HARRY POTTER AND THE SEERS' TRUTH
By Lady Lestrange
Betrayed by Wand and Blood
Chapter 54
10 REVIEWS. 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
(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 Trelawney 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, and she learns a personal secret of Draco's—so when is she going to share her secret? Speaking of secrets, Snape has a few, which he unwittingly shares in SNAPE'S SECRET AND SALAZAR'S TREASURE. In SECRETS KEPT AND THOUGHTS SHARED, we at last know what side Snape is on--almost—
And for all those Ginny lovers--awesome Ginny in WHAT IS A DARK WIZARD--where we at last, rejoin the Dark Lord. After that, aren't we all ready for a little fun and games with the Gryffindor/Slytherin Quiddich game? Harry finally confirms Edward's evil intent, although no one believes him, and now, once again Harry is privy to Slytherin secrets in NOTHING HALLOWED, on Halloween night. Halloween continues to the wee hours of the morning with THE BIRTH OF A NIGHTMARE, where Ginny, Voldemort and the Death Eaters free those in Azkaban. The chapter entitled, PORTRAITS, POLYJUICE AND PORTKEYS tells of the aftermath in Hogwarts. Take a deep breath now. Non-stop action till the end.
Here, Samara finally tells Draco of her muggle parentage and next chapter, we visit Knockturn Alley.
Betrayed by Wand and Blood
Chapter 54
Ginny spread the robe out across her bed and outlined the stains once again with her wand. "Scurgify!" she cried, putting all the intention of cleaning that she could into the spell. "Scurgify! Scurgify! Scurgify!"
"Ginny. Forget it. Throw the robe away. It's ruined, just like the ones in first year."
"Tom, I can't. Snape had me burn the sleeve off of one of my best robes. I got potion on this one and blood on another one." She sighed. "This was one of my good ones."
"Not anymore."
"I only have one other that isn't a half worn out second hand robe and I can't afford to buy new ones. Scurgify!"
She poured a little more of Mrs. Skower's magical stain remover on the stain, and then picked it up to examine it. "I think it's eating away the cloth," she said with concern.
"I wouldn't doubt it," replied Tom.
"After all the words we wrote on the wall with the potion are still shining through, but the stone is crumbling away after Filch's scrubbing. Couldn't expect much more from cloth, could we?"
Ginny crumpled the robe and threw it on the bed. "Maybe I could transfigure it into something else."
"The stains wouldn't go away," said Tom. "Just throw it away. You have to buy some new robes. It will make you feel better anyway."
"No it won't."
"It always made Carman feel better."
"I'm not Carman! I don't have money to throw away."
"You're not throwing away money. You're throwing away a stained and ruined robe. Not to mention, it is slightly small on you--You will enjoy a new robe. One in which your hands can touch.—"
"My hands? My hands can touch in my robe," retorted Ginny.
It's something for me to think about when you're snuggling with Edward. I sometimes wonder if it will rip right down the middle of the back when you—" The picture in her mind which Tom had conjured of the robe ripping and falling right off of her, made her realize just how threadbare her robe was.
Sigh. "I don't have the money. You should understand that, Tom."
"I do," said Tom sympathetically. "When you don't have money, you have to find a way to earn money. Of course, I don't think you want to earn money like I did—"
"I don't want to know, Tom."
Nonetheless, a flash of a shopkeeper in Knockturn alley bickering about the price of dragon blood appeared in her mind, followed by the same shop keeper discussing the price of muggle blood.
"What! How did you—NO! I didn't ask that--"
Of course, the memories were already in her mind so they appeared in her mind's eye before she finished the sentence—"Tom! Those weren't attempted suicides at your orphanage!"
"No one died! I numbed the pain. I healed the cuts. They didn't even wake up—If they had awakened, then I'd have had to explain."
"Tom! You took their blood."
"No. Actually Salazar took it. I was in charge of the healing. He thought we should have just killed one or two and then we could have just taken it all. I had to convince him it was worthwhile to let them live."
"Oh—"
"Can we think of something else?"
"Yes. Good idea," said Ginny, consciously trying to separate her memories from Tom's. "You said you had an idea of how I could earn some money."
"Yes," said Tom. Ginny could feel a half smile trying to express itself on her lips. "Your brothers have a remarkable potion, and you, Ginny Love, have the market for it. You could sell it for twice, three, probably ten times what your brothers are getting for it—"
"You want me to sell the make up potion to the Slytherins, to cover their Dark Marks? I couldn't do that."
"Why?"
"It's not ethical. It's probably illegal."
"I don't think so. I mean concealing the Dark Mark, might constitute a crime—of course in some auror's eyes, having one is a crime, even if the person were under Imperio—However, selling a concealing glamour–type potion is certainly not illegal. You have nothing to do with where they put it."
"I just don't think I could do that. It's just—It's—"
"It's called exploiting the market, supply and demand, free enterprise—"
I mean, Tom, it's taking advantage of them—It's morally wrong."
"No it isn't. They would be glad to have a reliable source to cover the Mark. You've used it Ginny. What would you do without it? It's a win-win situation."
"Why is it, that you only have morality when it suits you?"
"It doesn't just suit me. It suits all involved. You get the money. They get the protection. Why would you deny them that protection? Denying them; that's wrong—morally or otherwise."
She shivered, thinking of all the questions that she avoided. Edward too—
Slytherin's different. "They're OK with having the Dark Mark, so many of them do—" Ginny balled up the ruined robe and threw it in the corner. She started to brush her hair in preparation for going down to supper.
"Alvin Nott isn't OK with it. One time, Cho or someone like her gets a look at it, don't you think there will be questions? If you could save him from going to Azkaban, don't you think you should do it?"
"Well, yes. Alvin never even wanted to get the Dark Mark—"thought Ginny as she headed down to the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Exactly. What kind of service are you doing for him? It's not taking advantage. It's filling a need, and considering the price he paid for the Dog Droppings—"
"They're puppy puffs." Thought Ginny as she entered the Common Room.
"Alvin was not a puppy! Did you get a good look at the size of his teeth?"
Ginny giggled. "I wonder how much the twins got for his custom puppy puffs."
"Why don't you ask them? Here they come."
I couldn't ask them that.
"I could. Do you want me to do it?" The now familiar tingling sensation of Tom's attempting to take control of her body rang through her.
"Will you quit that?" she hissed.
"No. Probably not," said Tom.
"Hi," Ginny greeted the twins. "How's business?"
"Booming," said Fred.
"Barking," said George. "Puppy Puffs have to be our biggest seller."
"But the clown faces are doing OK too. They sell in spurts. We did great with them at the Quiddich game, but now, they're kind of slow. Are you going to the Great Hall?"
Ginny nodded and started to walk with her brothers. "Maybe I could help you," Ginny said slowly. "There are some people I know—she shrugged.—girls who might be shy to ask you for the make up, just as make up, not as a joke."
"Yeah, well Eloise Midgin doesn't have a problem asking," said George.
"She bought a whole case—twelve bottles," said Fred in awe.
"Well, she was desperate," said Ginny. "I'm talking about first and second years, who probably wouldn't approach you. Maybe some of Edward or Samara's friends—"
"Slytherins?" asked George.
"Only if you charge them double," said Fred with a grin.
"Tell your brothers that you get half the money," said Tom.
"And Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, too," said Ginny ignoring Tom. "Samara's at Ravenclaw now. She and Aldwin are playing chess again. Did I tell you she beat Ron last night?"
"Don't change the subject, Ginny. Tell them you want a cut of the money."
"No! Really!" Said Fred.
"Smashing! She beat Ron? I'll bet he was in a state!" said George.
"He was," said Ginny.
"Let's go tease—um talk to him," said George.
"Good idea," said Fred.
"Ginny! Tell them you get half! Fifty-fifty on Slytherin sales! Say it. Say it. Say it!"
"Fifty-fifty," said Ginny.
"What?" George looked at her like he didn't know her.
"You're our sister. You want money for helping us?" Fred stared.
"Yes."
The twins looked at each other for a moment, obviously communicating in that strange twin sort of way they had.
"Ten percent," said Fred.
"OK," said Ginny
"Fifty," shouted Tom. "Ten percent isn't enough for the Slytherins, especially if you are charging them double. Your cheating brothers still get their whole amount. Don't you dare agree to ten percent—the cheapskates!"
"But, I really don't think ten percent is enough, if I sell it for more. Especially if I sell some to the Slytherins," said Ginny softly. "How about if you get ninety percent of all the sales, and if I sell it for more, I keep the difference. You aren't really losing anything, except the ten percent, and you're not working at selling the potion."
"I don't know," said Fred thoughtfully.
"Some of the Slytherins use a lot of glamour charms," said Tom.
Ginny parroted his idea. "They have such complexes about appearances—"
"And they have more money than they know what to do with," said George.
"If your brothers made the potion so that when someone quit using it, their complexion got worse than it originally was—" began Tom.
"Shut up, Tom," thought Ginny. "They're Gryffindors. I'm not even suggesting that."
"Come on, Fred," said Ginny. "I burned a robe in defense a few weeks ago, and I just spilt a potion on another robe—
"You're not telling them about Rookwood's blood?" inquired Tom.
Ginny ignored him. " I really need the money—"
"OK, Sis," said George, and Ginny threw her arms around him in glee. "Thanks so much! I'll sell so much potion, you'll have to brew more."
"I doubt it," said George. "We brewed quite a lot already and we're not even sure how long it will last—probably only several months."
"Not that much," mumbled Fred, "We'll bring a case of the potion over to your room."
"That should get you started," said George.
"Oh! One other thing," said Ginny. "About the clock—Could you just fix mine to say "at school" like it used to?"
"Oh, why, Ginny?" said Fred.
"Well, I'm sure your hands don't tell mom your every move. Fred—playing a trick on a teacher. George-skipping class."
"I don't skip class," said George, indignant.
"I think our Ginny's growing up," said Fred.
'Please?" Ginny begged.
"Don't beg, Ginny Love. It's so unbecoming—"
"Oh I don't know," said George. "I think Mom should know where her baby is—"
Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't want Mom to find out that you charmed all those Canary Creams wandlessly—"
"Ah-h Gin, you wouldn't tell her that! We couldn't use our wands. It was summer," protested Fred.
"And then there was the ton-tongue taffies—"
"Very nice, Ginny Love. Blackmail works."
"It's not blackmail."
"Of course it is."
"Ginny!" cried Fred. "You wouldn't do that—"
"Wouldn't I?"
"OK," said George. "Your hand says, "At school or studying. You can continue to be Mom's little angel."
"Good."
As they reached the Great Hall, the Weasley's separated, the twins going to sit with their friends, and Ginny pausing at the door to see what Edward and Gloria Snood were laughing about.
"Stay here," said Edward sniggering. "Look, Ginny."
"What am I supposed to be looking at?" asked Ginny.
"Cho Chang," said Edward.
"Ravenclaw table. There she is!" Gloria was practically jumping with excitement.
"What did you guys do?" asked Ginny.
"Nothing." Said Edward.
"Not us," corrected Gloria. "Greg Goyle."
"Cho is convinced all Slytherins are evil," said Edward. "We wanted to make her eat her words."
"Or maybe prove them, considering Greg," laughed Gloria.
"Samara was telling me about Cho, and her plan to single handedly rid the world of --" began Ginny as a big-eyed fluffly black and white puppy lumbered into the room. He was tripping over his own feet and absolutely adorable. "Oh—" said Ginny. "He's so cute." She turned to Gloria and whispered. "That's Greg Goyle?"
Gloria nodded.
"He should stay a puppy," said Ginny.
Gloria and Edward were laughing hysterically as the puppy wriggled and waddled over to Cho. He scratched her leg with a too large paw. "What kind of puppy is he?" asked Ginny as Cho picked him up. "He looks like some kind of sheepdog."
"Donno," said Edward. "You'll have to ask your brothers that one."
Cho was searching the Ravenclaw table, obviously trying to discern 'who' the dog was. Then she settled down to eat her supper, and read the book that was propped in front of her. Apparently she either thought she knew who the puppy was, or she didn't care.
'The puppy curled up beside her on the chair, periodically sticking a wet nose under her arm and nudging her. He started to gnaw on the dangling safety chain of her watch and worked his way up her wrist to her fingers. Absently she petted him, while he chewed gently on her fingers.
"Anytime now," whispered Edward, and almost on cue, the puppy beside Cho grew into Greg Goyle. He was sucking on her thumb. Cho screamed and shoved away from him. "Get away from me, you—you—"
"Puppy?" supplied Greg with a leering grin.
Cho blushed and went for her wand, then she seemed to think better of it. She turned and marched from the hall, leaving her book behind on the floor.
Edward, Ginny and Gloria stood just outside of the Great Hall in fits of laughter. At last they entered the Hall and went to their respective tables.
==
When they came to the Gryffindor Table, Samara caught Ginny's hand. "You missed the best puppy puff," she laughed. "It was Cho and Greg Goyle—"
"We saw it," confessed Ginny. "Edward and Gloria set it up."
"Oh it was priceless," said Samara. "The look on her face when she discovered that puppy was Greg Goyle of all people—"
"Well, I've never seen Cho at a loss for words before," replied Edward. "It was worth the cost of the puppy puff just for that."
"However did you talk Greg Goyle into doing that?" asked Beatrice.
"It wasn't hard," said Edward. "He'll do most anything for food."
"Oh, Edward. That's rude," said Ginny. "He isn't that bad. He thought the joke was pretty funny too, especially after Edward told him all the comments she made about Slytherins all being Death Eaters. I have a feeling that Greg might just be the first of many."
Samara chuckled.
"She may learn to hate dogs," said Beatrice.
They ate in silence for a while, then talking about classes and quiddich and shopping for the holidays. "Are you going to do your Christmas shopping at Hogsmeade this weekend?" asked Samara.
Ginny shrugged. Unless she made some money, there were going to be very few Christmas gifts from her.
"I wrote and told my parents that I wanted a broom for Christmas," said Samara. "Hopefully, I won't have to keep borrowing yours every morning after January," she told Ginny.
"I don't mind," said Ginny.
"I know you don't. Thanks," replied Samara.
==
After supper, the common room was deserted. It had snowed late in the afternoon and most of the Gryffindors were outside playing in the snow.
Lou and Joe were playing chess in the corner of the room and the trio was working on some private project. Ginny and Edward joined Samara who was curled up in a chair by the fire, furiously taking notes on her Advanced History. She didn't even look up when Ginny and Edward came to sit by her.
"Studying hard?" Ginny asked.
"Hmmm?" Samara said, continuing to work. Edward glanced over her shoulder and read aloud—
"The best documented expedition to the Coastal Rift was made by Merlin, in 1004. No expeditions of later years have been so successful, and whether or not the Rift actually exists is open to speculation. Most Wizard Historians concede that the very existence of rooms of Requirement within the magical community point to the flexibility of matter which existed before the creation of the Rift itself. Rowena Ravenclaw contends that the world of magic and the world of muggles were in ancient times separated by a Veil of Chaos, which was rent by the great Magicks of Raven, probably between the years 890-910. Bridget Wenlock (1232) believed that it was the wizards themselves who intruded upon the world of the muggles in the New Land. Because of the Rift, the great Russian seer, Priam Vablastsky in the year 1006 prophesied that political stability would elude the Wizarding world as long as muggles inhabited it. This account may be validated by an actual report given to the Governors of Magic by Morgania, the lessor, in the following century (1302). The report certainly describes the present geography of the Land with considerable accuracy. However, it is open to debate whether or not—anybody gives a hoot!" spat Edward. He blew out his breath, tossing the book back to Samara. "Glad I'm not taking that class."
"Have you done your Advanced Defense?" asked Edward.
Ginny shook her head, and then glanced around the common room, counting heads. "There's eight people here," she said. "If we can both accio all the wands here, we'll only have two more to go—"
Edward shuddered. "Let's ask," he suggested.
"Hey Hermione," Ginny called. "I need some help with my Advanced Defense—"
"See," said Ron. "I'm not the only one that asks Hermione for help even if she isn't in the class."
Harry laughed, but his smile faded as Edward followed Ginny over to the trio.
"We have an assignment," said Ginny. "To wandlessly accio ten wands that are not our own and then document the wood and wand cores. Apparently, it will help us to understand our own magic better and also to realize which wands we might be able to –um—what was the word Snape used?"
"Steal?" provided Tom.
"Appropriate," continued Ginny "if we are ever captured by Dark Wizards."
"That's awesome!" said Hermione, laying aside the papers they were working on. "So, if you can accio the wand, it will work for you right? Whose have you accioed so far?"
"No one's," said Ginny.
"This isn't necessarily about taking a wand in a combat situation--" said Edward.
"You wouldn't get it," said Harry softly, his green eyes boring into Edward's.
"It's about taking a wand by stealth," continued Edward.
"Fine," said Ron, taking his wand from his pocket and laying it on the table. "Can either of you accio mine?"
"Accio!" said Ginny. Ron's wand rolled over on the table, and Ginny licked her lips in concentration. "Accio, willow wand, unicorn hair!" The wand lifted and hovered, laboriously floating toward Ginny in a zig zag pattern much like Hermione's wand had done in Snape's class. However, the wand looked not at all sure that it should go to Ginny, and stopped just a breath away from her hand.
"The wand chooses the wizard," said Ron and Ginny reached forward and snatched the wand from the air.
"Got it," she cried.
"But you aren't supposed to know what it is," said Edward as he tried to accio Ron's wand.
It had no interest in coming to Edward.
"I don't think it's going to work for you," said Ron.
"That's no surprise," said Harry. "Unicorn hair doesn't seem really compatible with your magic, does it Edward?"
"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Hermione.
"Well, unicorn hair denotes pure intentions, doesn't it?"
"In Ravenclaw," interrupted Samara, "Terry called Unicorn hair a 'light' wand, because the unicorn is a creature of the Light."
"Terry Boot?" asked Hermione. "he's in my arithmancy class."
"Yes, I know," said Samara. "We were talking about wand cores. He says some cores are considered light, some dark and some neutral although Aldwin says they are more correctly categorized as creative power which is internal; destructive power, which is usually external and Spiritual power which—"
"I'd believe Terry," said Hermione. "He's always got the answers in arthmancy. I think he'll have one of the top OWL scores this year."
"You haven't met Aldwin," retorted Samara. "He's either going to break the record for the highest NEWTs or he'll off on some philosophical quest and forget to show up—"
"That would be good," spat Tom. "Highest NEWT's—humph--If anyone's going to break my record, Ginny Love, it's going to be you."
"I doubt it, Tom. I just want to pass." Ginny thought. "I hate to break up this little debate," Ginny said aloud, "but I do have to get my homework done sometime tonight—"
"Oh, sorry," said Hermione. "Do you want to try to accio my wand, Ginny?"
"Sure."
Both Ginny and Edward tried to accio Hermione's wand, but neither succeeded, but both Harry and Ron could use it. By now, several others had joined them and were trying to accio and use each others wands. Lou and Joe had finished their chess game and came over to watch.
"So what's your wand core?" Edward asked Lou.
"Dragon scales."
Edward had no trouble accioing Lou's wand and levitated a couple of pillows, before writing down, Oak, 11 1/2 inches, Dragon scales, as one of the wands he could use.
He couldn't accio Joe's wand, which was Aspen, 12 ½ inches unicorn mane hair, but Ginny got it. She said it felt like she would have trouble doing anything too strenuous with the wand and although she could levitate the pillows, when she tried to set up her ward with it, it vibrated dangerously and she stopped, afraid that she would shatter the wood.
"How about yours, Harry?" asked Ginny, and Harry opened his palm, leaving his wand lying on it. Ginny held up her hand. "Accho!" she said, and the wand soared to her hand like a lightening bolt. As she closed her hand on it, Tom gasped.
"Oh," he breathed. "It's my wand."
"No. It's Harry's wand," thought Ginny. Aloud, she said, "Phoenix feather and--?"
"Holly," supplied Harry. "eleven inches."
"Not just phoenix," said Tom. "The phoenix. My phoenix, but it's a lot stronger in his wand. Mine was a tail feather. I wonder. Ask where on the bird was the feather," said Tom, and Ginny complied.
"Tail feather," said Harry, holding out his hand for his wand.
"Do the ward," urged Tom. "No. Let me do it. Please Ginny. I won't keep control. Just let me feel this magic. Let me feel the phoenix."
But she had already handed the wand back to Harry.
"Damn it, Ginny. I was going to give it back. I just wanted to do one spell. What would that hurt?"
"Sorry—" thought Ginny.
"No you're not," spat Tom, anger boiling in his frustration. "How can you still be afraid?"
"I'm not—I just—I can't trust you—"
"You used to know the difference between me and Salazar!"
Ginny felt him retreat from her, rage simmering just below the surface. If he had a body, Ginny knew without at doubt, she would have been the recipient of some sort of curse.
"Sorry," she muttered again.
A deep silence greeted her.
"Harry, can Edward accio your wand?" asked Hermione.
"No," said Harry, glaring at Edward, "but Accio!" cried Harry smoothly taking Edward's wand from his robe pocket. Harry frowned as he closed his fingers around the wand.
"I don't mind," said Edward, widening his stance and pulling gently from the wind elemental.
"Did someone open a window?" asked Ron. "There's a draft in here."
"Well, it is getting cold," said Hermione. "There are a lot of drafts in this old castle."
"But it's a good excuse to snuggle," said Ron, moving closer to Hermione and putting his arm around her. She smiled up at him and he kissed her lightly on the cheek.
Harry had pulled his own wand and was holding the two side by side. Edward's was an inch and a half shorter than Harry's and Harry looked up suddenly. "Your wand is yew," he said surprised.
"Yes," said Edward. "Have you ever used a yew wand?"
"No," said Harry thoughtfully. "I just dueled against one."
"Who?" said Edward, obviously expecting Harry to name some student.
"Voldemort," said Harry succinctly, and Ron startled. "I wish you wouldn't say his name"
Harry shrugged, still running his fingers along the wand. "This feels—feminine—" said Harry, but if he expected that to be an insult he was mistaken.
"It is feminine," said Edward, looking straight at Harry. "It's a harpy feather."
Harry grimaced and tossed the wand back. Edward caught it expertly with the tip pointed at Harry Potter. "Sorry," he said snidely as he turned the point of the wand away from Harry directly, and placed his wand in his pocket.
"Yours? Samara?" asked Edward, who accioed Samara's wand, twirled it through his fingers and looked at it. "It's so small," he said. "I feel like I'm holding a pigeon feather quill."
"And Lisa Turpin thought it felt like a bludger bat," laughed Samara.
Ginny laughed and accioed Samara's wand. The smile died on her face as she touched it, but aloud she said, "Good," that makes four I can accio."
"Tom? This feels like Him. Do you feel it?" Ginny asked But Tom didn't answer.
Turning the wand thoughtfully in her hand, Ginny said, "Oh, wait, you don't have a wand core. It's just your unknown dust infused into the wand, isn't it, Samara?"
"Actually," said Samara. "I found out what is in my wand. It's infused with basilisk skin dust. Didn't I tell you?"
"Bloody hell!" exclaimed Ron, jumping to his feet. Hermione caught hold of Ron's sleeve and pulled him back onto the sofa. Her eyes were wide with astonishment, but she didn't say anything.
"Basilisk!" said Ginny. She laid it quickly on the table.
Instead of accioing the wand, Harry walked around the table, and very gently laid a finger along side of the wand. He cautiously traced the edge of the wand, taking several deep breaths as he touched it. He blanched, his scar standing out against his pale skin, and pulled his hand away, but he didn't retch.
Samara, oblivious to the stir she had caused, was still talking about her wand. "The Slytherins said, they knew it was a snake. Of course, everything is a snake over there—Someone said, boomslang, but the Ravenclaws said it couldn't be boomslang. It's not magical—"
"That's true," agreed Hermione.
"Then, Terry Boot said, 'It's a basilisk, because of the pentagon shaped scale pattern and of course, because it's obviously a magical serpent. Then, that's when we started talking about different kinds of cores. He asked me to use my wand to stun his book—"
"Your wand? Did it work?" asked Hermione, noticing Harry's pale strained face, she threw him a puzzled glance.
"Yes. It worked."
"So his book is 'dead' too now," observed Harry, rubbing his face, and still taking deep breaths.
"Harry?" asked Hermione. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, said Harry. "I'm a little uncomfortable with it, but not like when I touched the book. The book wanted to teach me. The wand doesn't want to have anything to do with me. The magic of the wood, seems to counteract the magic of the infusion," he said. "What is this wood?"
"Cedar," said Samara, "For protection and healing—"
Harry nodded. "That's why I can hold it, but I think I'd have a hard time with the simplest spells with this wand." Harry paused, still examining the wand. " So is Terry's book dead too," Harry repeated.
"No just unconscious. I could enervate it. What's wrong with a basilisk infusion anyway?" Samara asked into the sudden silence. "It's just a snake. A magical snake, but –"
"It's not just a snake," said Ginny.
"I've seen pictures," said Samara. "On the portrait of Salazar in the Slytherin Common Room, he has a basilisk draped over his shoulder."
"Over his shoulder," exclaimed Harry surprised. "It must be a baby. The one in the Chamber was 20 feet long."
"Well, so were anacondas—" began Samara.
"And it could kill with a glance—" continued Harry.
"It didn't kill anyone," interrupted Ginny.
"Myrtle," said Harry.
"OH--that's why its eyes are closed," said Samara softly.
"So, Harry, however did you manage to see one," asked Edward with a smirk.
"Dumbledore's phoenix had pecked out the eyes," said Harry. "The same phoenix who gave the feather for my wand—Fawkes" He turned to Samara. "Did you realize what was on the ruined pages? The pages that held the basilisk skin and then the basilisk dust in your book for so long?"
"Yes," said Samara. "It was a potion, to shorten some incubation period—"
"Is that all you remember?" asked Hermione.
"No," said Samara. "It contained all different kinds of bloods and venom—vampire, werewolf, gnome, unicorn--
"And that didn't strike you as strange?" asked Ginny.
"What? That it had a lot of blood and venom in it?" She shrugged.
Several members of the group nodded. "But there are lots of weird potions," said Samara. "I didn't give it much thought. Anyway, I was just so excited to finally get my wand to work--"
"You can't use that wand," said Hermione. "It's dark."
"Don't be ridiculous," spat Samara, putting her wand back into her hair. "I've been using it for over a year now. I made this wand. I spent months on its construction. I didn't pick it up in ten minutes at Olivanders."
"Nonetheless--" said Harry, "Your wand core—er—infusion—"
"It's the intent that matters, not the wand core," interrupted Samara. "I know Terry said some cores are technically classified as light and some as dark, but that choice ultimately rests with the wizard. Intention. Aldwin says, light and dark are vastly over-rated. The wand isn't going to do any spells that I don't want it to."
"So why would you want to hang on to that –basilisk wand?" asked Ron. "The wand chooses the wizard," said Ron darkly. " –or the witch."
"Oh, come on," snapped Samara. "I made it. It's a piece of wood, an enhancing substance, and my magic. The magic is still mine—dark or light."
"Maybe you're a dark witch," supplied Edward with a slight grin.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked Edward, testily. "If someone uses a unicorn hair wand to do Avada Kadavra, they're still dead. The wand doesn't matter. It's a tool to focus the magic, compatible with the wizard, yes, but not identical."
"Hey, don't get mad at me, Samara. I don't have a problem with your wand," said Edward, throwing up his hands in mock defeat.
"Well," interrupted Hermione, " it is considerably harder to do a curse with a unicorn hair wand than say a dragon scale or even dragon heart strings—"
"OK," said Samara, "I'll agree it is harder to do a curse with a light wand, but the fellow with the unicorn hair wand could just levitate them out of the tower window and drop them on their head. The person would still be just as dead and the act is still murder, even though the magic is not considered dark. I really don't see a difference and I doubt the person splattered on the ground would either—"
Edward burst into laughter.
"There is nothing funny about this conversation," said Harry coldly.
"I think it's hilarious," said Edward. "You're ready to burn her at the stake, just because her wand is different from yours. I suddenly understand what Binns meant when he said that the witches were their own worst enemies in the witch trials—"
Tom was seething. He's comparing us with muggles, the great git! O-oh Ginny, don't you let him get away with that1 I won't be compared to a muggle!
"You are comparing us with muggles," Ginny blurted.
"Not all of you," said Edward. "Just the ones out for blood—" He shrugged, glancing back at Harry. "So what? As long as Samara's wand works for her, it's not our business—"
"It's everybody's business," snapped Harry.
"Pardon?" said Edward softly. "What is everybody's business?"
"What side other people are on—light or dark. Voldemort or Dumbledore."
"Wait a minute," said Samara.
"I don't think it is—"interrupted Edward.
"Because you are on the wrong side," blurted Harry. "Who knows if you have a Dark Mark on your arm—"
"A what?" said Edward, frowning.
Ginny sucked in her breath. "Harry—"
"Oh nice save, Lestrange," said Tom. "Let Edward handle it. Don't rush to his rescue unless he needs you, Ginny Love. Let's hope he has the potion on his arm."
"A skull with a snake crawling out of its mouth," said Harry, putting his hand in his pocket, on his wand. "The sign of the Dark Lord—on your left arm--"
"Here," said Edward, ripping off his robe and rolling up his shirt sleeves. "Take a look. He thrust his arms under Harry's nose. You're starting to sound a lot like that crazy defense teacher you had, jumping and pointing fingers at everyone—Constant vigilance!"
"Not everyone. You."
"And Samara—" retorted Edward. "One has to wonder, Harry. How did you find out what this mark looks like and how did you see a basilisk—"
Harry pulled his wand.
Next you'll be chasing dustbins," mocked Edward, picking up his robe, and seeming to ignore Harry's drawn wand, but Ginny felt the slight stirring of the air elemental.
"Harry," said Hermione clutching his wand arm. "Harry. Let it rest. Edward doesn't have a Dark Mark or a basilisk wand—"
"Harpy," spat Harry, still holding his wand poised.
"And you accioed it!" said Edward, pulling his own wand and glaring at Harry. He turned it in his hand and held it out to Harry. You could have used it. You didn't have a problem with it at all until I told you what it was—Samara didn't even know what her wand infusion was until just a few weeks ago—no just a few minutes ago. Before, she thought it was a snake. Just some kind of magical snake--So what—"
The door to the common room opened revealing Neville and Beatrice. Instantly Neville had his wand out. "Stupefy!" called Neville, and Edward turned, just a moment too late. He crumpled onto the floor unconscious.
"That was so unfair," complained Tom. "That wasn't Longbottom's fight."
"Unfair, Tom?" wondered Ginny. "He was trying to help,"
"Bloody hell," said Ron.
Neville looked from one to the other. "I thought—" he said. "I'm sorry. Are you alright, Harry?"
"Yes," said Harry. Putting his wand away. "Edward and I were just having a little disagreement."
"And Longbottom interferred—" commented Tom disgustedly. "Aurors. They never fight fair when they're dealing with Slytherins."
"Personally, I can't believe that Edward let Neville take him down,."thought Ginny.
"Element of surprise," said Tom. "It's always an advantage. But of course, you're right. Edward is seriously losing his touch—"
It didn't warrant knocking him unconscious, but thanks anyway." He grinned at Neville. "It's the thought that counts."
"I thought the disagreement was with me," spat Samara.
Harry turned toward her as if he were seeing her for the first time. "We know you didn't know that you had a basilisk skin as a wand infusion, Samara, but—"
"Yuck!" interrupted Beatrice.
"Will you stop it!" shouted Samara, tears collecting in her eyes. "I worked very hard on that wand, and I have no intention of getting another one." She looked hard at the little group and then turned toward the portrait hole. "I'm going for a walk," she said.
"Should I enervate Edward?" asked Neville.
"I'd say, let sleeping Slytherins lie," said Ron.
"Don't you mean let sleeping Death Eaters lie," said Harry.
"He doesn't have the Dark Mark," Ginny protested.
"Leave it, Ginny Love," said Tom. "It's best not to get involved."
==
Outside the common room, Samara hesitated. It was already nearly time for curfew. Where could she go? She decided on the kitchens. That seemed to work for Edward and Ginny.
Once she got there, however, she realized that the house elves expected her to eat. In fact they insisted on it, bringing her pumpkin juice while bowing and chattering. Although she wasn't really hungry, she got a cup of tea and some chocolate cookies. She realized that she never really had a liking for pumpkin juice. Maybe it was something that you had to experience as a baby to develop a taste for it. No, she thought idly as she sipped her tea. That couldn't be true, because Seemus loved the stuff.
She pulled her wand from her hair and examined it. Was it really a Dark wand? What difference could a piece of wood and a bit of some animal make anyway? She pushed the tea aside and put her head down on the table. She felt really sad and homesick. Her last few letters from her Grandma Lori were depressing. According to Grandma Lori, her parents were still together, but still fighting. Her mother had actually added a few lines to the letter. She had written, "why doesn't this school have email?" Mother still couldn't quite get a grasp on the fact that it was really a magical school. And then she went on about Samara's oldest brother who finally decided that he'd had enough and moved out of the house. Her youngest brother, who just turned 16 a few months before her birthday, got his drivers license and promply totaled the family car. Finally, her mom said brooms were entirely too expensive and she wasn't getting one for Christmas.
"Miss Samara should go up to her room to sleep," said a house elf.
"I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind," said Samara.
Miss does not have to be sorry. It is not Tully's place to make Miss uncomfortable. Only comfortable."
Oh it's not your fault," said Samara. "I just wish I could have talked to someone—Draco maybe or even one of the Ravenclaws. I don't feel very happy in Gryffindor tonight."
Pop! The elf was gone.
Pop! The elf returned. "Draco will be here. Tully is telling him you wished to speak to him."
"Oh no!" said Samara. "I didn't mean really. I just was thinking—You didn't wake him, did you?" she asked worriedly.
"Oh no. Master cannot sleep well. He was awake. Reading school books."
"Master?" questioned Samara. "Aren't you a Hogwarts elf? Do you always call the students master?"
"Oh no, Miss. Tully is not a school elf. Tully is a Malfoy elf."
"Are you allowed to do that—bring your own house elf?"
"Eeek!" the house elf squeeked and began beating her head against the table. "Bad Tully," she pronounced. "Bad! Bad! Tully!"
"Stop!" cried Samara. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"What are you punishing yourself for now?" drawled a lazy voice.
"Oh, she just told me she was a Malfoy elf instead of a Hogwart's elf. It was nothing."
The elf continued to beat her head with greater vigor.
"I tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn't listen to me," said Samara.
Draco's eyes darkened, glaring at the house elf. "Tully. Stop. You will go to my room and await me there. Stand in the center of the room and touch nothing."
Pop!
"So you were studying?" asked Samara, suddenly self-conscious as she noticed his usually immaculately combed hair was tousled and he had hastily thrown a robe over his nightclothes.
"Just reading," said Draco. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Well what did you want to talk to me about?"
"Nothing actually," said Samara shamefacedly. "I was just thinking about you, and mentioned it to the house elf—and—" Samara shrugged blushing.
Draco pulled his chair closer to hers and put an arm around her.
I got a letter from my Grandma Lori, she said. "I feel like things at home are falling apart without me. My oldest brother moved out. My youngest brother wrecked the car, and now Mom and Dad say there will be no money for me to get a broom. I suppose I'll have to make my own broom too," she said bitterly.
"Weasley's had an enchanted car too," said Draco. "I understand they aren't that easy to control. The Weasley twins had several accidents with it before Ron and Harry tried to park it under the Whomping Willow tree, not that I think a Gryffindor could handle anything faster than a Comet 260."
Samara giggled.
"It's good to see you smile," said Draco tracing his finger over her lips before leaning in and kissing her.
She glanced over at the two house elves that were still manning the kitchen. She wished she had some privacy with Draco. Draco followed her gaze and ordered the house elves to leave. "We will call you if anyone else arrives," Draco promised. Draco hesitated a moment and then decided that they needed a privacy ward. Within seconds it was up.
"Now," said Draco coming back beside her. "You can tell me whatever it is that has been bothering you. No one will hear you but me."
"That's the problem," said Samara.
Draco looked at her in confusion.
"I'm not sure if I want you to hear me." She looked at her feet and considered how to word this, as Draco waited, his aura a study in curiosity. "Draco, how strong is this—" Samara hesitated searching for a word. She refused to say 'love' when he hadn't said it. Anyway she wasn't sure she'd label her feelings as love. How strong is this attraction we have to one another?" she continued.
"I don't know," said Draco. "I suppose we should just wait and see." Draco shifted on his chair so he could reach her better, his hands searching the folds of her robes to find an opening. "How strong is your attraction to me?"
"Maybe too strong," said Samara as his fingers found skin.
"I'm not leaving you," said Draco, his fingers tracing tiny circles on her midriff. "I don't know about you. Are the Gryffs giving you trouble?"
Samara didn't answer right away, and when she did, she didn't talk about their attraction to each other. Instead she said, "It wasn't an enchanted car. It was just a regular one—a muggle one."
Draco pulled his hands back into his lap and stared at her. His aura showing his confusion, followed by betrayal and anger.
Samara licked her lips and spoke in a barely audible whisper. "My brothers aren't squibs," she said. "They're muggles--and I'm--muggle born."
"I mustn't have heard you—" he began, but his aura said he did. It was dangerously red and turbulent, practically screaming his anger out to her.
"You heard me," said Samara. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at his aura. "Don't make me say it again." She whispered. He was so far away from her. He was untouchable.
Draco jumped up and paced away, his aura still bright with anger and frustration.. "I thought it strange that I never heard of the Donnally's, but--," Shaking his head, he turned, making his decision at last. "Why are you lying to me?" He asked. His eyes were narrowed in anger, his aura a turbulent mass of fire.
"I'm not. I'm finally telling the truth!"
He grasped her shoulders, his eyes searching hers. "I have no intention of letting you go," he said, shoving her away, he pulled his wand, "Veritatis! Is this what those damned Gryffindors told you to say?" He growled at her.
She shuddered with the invasion of his truth spell. Didn't he have any trust for her at all? "No," said Samara, not attempting to fight the spell. . "I didn't think it mattered and then, by the time I realized how much pure blood meant to you, it was too late. I couldn't tell you I was muggle born."
"No. No. NO." said Draco brandishing his wand and pacing away. "You don't understand. Your magic is pure. It is not a mudblood's magic. I felt it. I know the feel of mudblood magic and yours isn't—There has to be wizard blood somewhere—Sectum!"
A thin line of blood appeared at her wrist where he had cut her. She was so shocked, that she didn't react at first. He grasped her wrist pulling her to him, and she pulled her wand.
"Expellarmus!" shouted Draco, and her wand clattered across the floor behind him. She flinched as he dipped two fingers into the cut smearing her blood on his hand. He brought it to his nose sniffing—his lips tasting--
"Draco, there isn't. I wish there were wizard blood because it's so important to you, but it's just not there."
He released her and looked at the ground, saying nothing. His aura spoke volumes to Samara. She took a step away from him.
" I'm sorry. Can't you—care for me for who I am?"
He pointed his wand at the blood on his hand and said, "parensentis manefesto" The blood began to glow with an odd silver light.
"I do," shouted Draco. "Do you think I can't see who you are with my own eyes? Sense with my own magic what you are and what you are not? Look at this!" he said shaking his blood stained hand under her nose. "You are not muggle born!"
"Accio wand," said Samara. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she said cooly, clutching her injured wrist, but not putting her wand into her pocket.
He hesitated and then continued more calmly, "I just want to know your family tree. Is that so difficult, Samara? There has to be a connection to the wizarding world. Maybe you or one of your parents was adopted."
"No one was adopted."
"Are you sure?" He said finally putting his wand away, and pulling from his pocket a small thumb sized vial of potion—She recognized the bottle--veritaserium.
She stared at it, his intent clear. He didn't believe her. He wanted proof that she was being truthful. She clutched her hand around her wand so tight she thought it would splinter in her hands, but it only grew warm.
"Would you?" he asked gently. "Tell me the truth?" He held out the little vial. His aura was pure orange.
Samara yanked her wand from her pocket, a thousand curses in her mind. "Incendio!" she shouted and the little bottle exploded into flame in his hand.
He swore as he shook the shards of molten glass and potion from his hand.
"I'll tell you the truth," Samara said tightly. "Whether or not you believe me, is your choice. My grandfather didn't marry my grandma Lori. He was killed.''
"We know almost nothing about him."
"What do you know?" he insisted.
"Why does it matter?" she said exasperated.
"Answer me!" he roared.
"Testudo!" she blocked reflexively, although he threw no spell.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.
"You already did."
Draco glanced at her arm, his aura contrite, but he said nothing. Samara was not thinking about her arm when she said he hurt her. She was thinking of how little he trusted her. How quickly he thought she lied. And how he couldn't accept that she was muggle born. She was the same witch she was a moment ago.
When at last he spoke, he pulled his wand again. "Pergo. Medico." He cleaned up the blood, and healed her arm.
Tell me about your grandfather," he urged gently, but his aura was still fraught with orange.
"I don't know much. He was an only child. They were quite wealthy and didn't associate with the same circles as my grandmother."
"Tell me what you know—" he said curtly. "Please."
Some of the orange disapated, his aura returning to its usual red. She wished she saw rose color-- She licked her lips, wanting him to just kiss her and forget all this lineage stuff. Why did this have to come between them?"
"Tell me," he said yet again.
My grandfather thought he could convince them to allow the marriage, and then they were killed--the whole family--
Who were they? Where did they live? Don't you have any information at all?"
"All I know is if he had married her, I would have had a different surname."
"And what would that be?"
"Riddle."
Draco stared at her mouth open in amazement, and then his face broke into a smile as he pocketed his wand. "Perfect," he said, taking her in his arms at last. She let him kiss her, switching her wand from her right hand to her left behind his back.
"You're not mad at me for keeping this from you?" She asked softly.
"No," said Draco. "I wish you would have told me sooner, but I'm not mad at you.
She shifted in his arms, pulled back her hand and slapped him with every ounce of strength she had. "Well I'm mad at you," she growled, switching her wand back to her dominant hand.
"What was that for?" he asked his burned palm automatically going to the red welts across his face.
"Sectum!" she spat, slicing his arm a little deeper than he had hers. "The same thing as that's for—your being a bloody basdard! You could at least say you're sorry."
"For what? What did I do?" Draco questioned holding out his empty hands in front of him. His right hand had already started to blister from the boiling veritaserium.
A long silence stretched between them.
"You are absolutely hopeless. You know that?" asked Samara at last.
"Humph!" His aura had settled into a vivid rose color, and Samara sighed, stepping into his embrace.
"I'll probably regret this," she said, turning her face up to his.
"No you won't," he murmured bringing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, oblivious to the blood that his injured arm was getting on her robe. She reveled in the warmth of his arms and the scent of him. She had been afraid that she would never feel this again. Liquid heat filled her, and she let her magic flow over them. He molded his body to hers, deepening the kiss, and answering her magic with his own. After a moment she pulled away.
"I have to go back to Gryffindor Tower. It's late."
"Pity you're not in Slytherin," he commented. "When are you going to get that error corrected?"
"It's not an error," said Samara.
Draco sighed. "Come on. I'll walk back with you."
"There's no point in both of us risking Filch."
"Well, if you ever find the scrap that Potter took from his Invisibility cloak we wouldn't have to worry—would we--"
"Draco—" He silenced her with another kiss.
"Shall we take the tunnel passage?" asked Samara.
"Absolutely," said Draco, pulling his wand to light the way. "Minima Lumos."
So would your grandfather have been Tom Riddle?" asked Draco as they began the trip back to Gryffindor Tower..
"Yes," said Samara. "Thomas Samuel Riddle."
"Samuel?" repeated Draco hesitating.
"I know," Samara rolled her eyes. "I'm named for him. You'd think with three boys they would have already used the name—"
"Not Tom Marvolo?" questioned Draco.
"No," said Samara, surprised. "Although my Grandmother said that Grandfather was convinced he had an older brother named Marvolo. Do you think he really existed? She spent years looking for him after my Grandfather died."
"Oh, he exists," said Draco, "But it's probably a good thing she didn't find him."
They stopped at the end of the tunnel. "Go back from here," said Samara. "The Fat Lady lectures me, when she sees you with me."
"Draw her some rum candy," suggested Draco. "It's not like you have to pay the Hufflepuffs to do it."
Samara snuggled against his shoulder for another moment. "I'm glad we skipped the week of fighting and went right to the make-up part this time."
His aura, fraught with rose and red and violet, brightened somewhat, as a smile creased his face, and he chuckled softly.
"What are you thinking?" she asked.
"I can't wait to introduce you to my mother," he said with a smirk.
"Draco?"
"Nox." He said as he put his wand away and wrapped both arms around her.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, allowing his magic to course through her as he kissed her once again. "Just beautiful."
==
ANSWERS TO REVIEWERS:
Sky: Glad you liked the funnies in the last chapter.
Raven173: ch53: Think Harry is going to get revenge? Who do you think he is, a Slytherin? Glad you liked the Invisibility cloak stuff.
Ch54: I love my Valeriana. More to come. Think Ginny is succumbing? To Voldemort//Salazar or is it just Tom.
Ch55: Yep. Lost of clues. Hope you like this chapter and get to read it soon.
Tamora Pierce: Glad you finally caught up. Review again soon.
Taju akiel: Of course my sequel will be good. Ha! How dare you think otherwise.
Silverfox1: Yep. Better be able to see where you are going or you might not get there. Samara is learning more about those Slytherins everyday, and she isn't going to trust Salazar even in a picture just yet. Must be all that Gryffindor propaganda she hears.
Trillium: Sniff. I hope everyone reviews really quickly and I'll have another chapter up for Trillium because she can only see this on Mon and Wed at school. Maybe I'll get to put up Knockturn alley chapter before Monday—Maybe—What do you think reviewers?
Reiven: Well now you know Draco's reaction to Samara being a muggleborn. If you don't believe that Draco "knew" from the beginning that her magic was special, you will when you see how some of the people in Knockturn Alley spot mudbloods a mile away.
I don't know if I will go to see Harry potter and POA trailer at Looney Tunes, but I hope it will be on quicktime com on the warnerbrothers list soon after.
Ennui2: Sighted Friend. Yes ennui. (Author sighs) You know everything about the prophecy. You're probably a seer yourself, aren't you. Just like Trelawney—hehehe—How many predictions did she get right? Two? You really should write your own fic. You'd do great! Thanks for all your insights and for making the site at Yahoo. If you haven't visited groups at yahoo yet, check it out. It's under The_Seers_Truth
Kemenran: More as requested.
Smiles: Where's my poem?
Check out "the Seer's Truth" yahoo! group:
All my thinks for this site go to ennui2. Visit the site. Put up a link to your own stories or the stories you love.. "Post a link" open only to those who have reviewed The_Seers_Truth but the rest of you can join the discussion.