What man or woman can be sure now, what Virginia's thoughts were when she awoke in Hogwart's infirmary those many centuries ago? Who really, but Virginia herself?

-Nathaniel Elliot Potter, Earl of Gryffindor

Chapter Two

" Yet the drums were beating with ever more fury, and one couldn't decipher sky from earth, nor imp from fey; though there was, of course, always Madness at our side. Always madness there..."

-Merlin's 'Exodus of Arthur'

For a time I saw nothing but flashes of shadow and light play before my eyelids, reminding me of the dancing colors of stained glass windows, or the thin membranes of butterfly wings. I didn't know why I had these thoughts, or why I was so intently focused upon them; surely I knew that there were other, much direr things I should be focusing upon. For one, why I couldn't seem to control my limbs, or was having difficulty opening my eyes to the world around me. Was I still dreaming, still secured in the bonds of sleep?

I had the sudden urge to wiggle my toes, so I went with it. Ah, yes, there was something at least. Perhaps I was waking now? Odd, but I didn't feel drowsy; quite the opposite, in fact. I felt rejuvenated, as though I'd ran a marathon and was just coming down from an endorphin high; as though I'd been submerged in water for too long, and was taking in that first grateful, greedy lungful of air.

Gradually I became acutely aware of a hushed murmuring to my left, and the rustling of what sounded like thick cotton robes. The familiarity of it almost led me to believe that I was in school, though I knew it impossible. I was asleep in my bed, and mum was probably stacking a pile of my clothing upon my trunk. But what a haunting dream it had all been! I hadn't had one single nightmare like that involving Voldemort since second year, and that was saying something for someone with as vivid an imagination as I.

"Is that just my wishful thinking, or were her eyelashes fluttering just now, Poppy? Severus, how long did you say that the Dreamless Sleep draught would stay in her system?"

I froze, coming to terms with the irrefutable proof that I was no longer asleep within my bed at the Burrow.

If I wasn't mistaken, that was the Headmaster's eccentric tenor at my side. What in Tartarus was I doing in the Hogwart's Infirmary?

I wetted my lips and opened my eyes, cringing as the white ceiling glared brightly in my sensitive vision.

 "Professor? Is that you?"

There was a whisper warm breath above me, the smell of lemon drops faintly tainting it.

"Yes, it is. How are you fairing, Ms. Weasely?"

"Perfect, save for a slight drowsiness. May I ask you something, Headmaster?"

The amusement was almost tangible when he intoned:

"Of course, child; ask away."

"What...how...why am I in Hogwarts, let alone in one of the infirmary's beds?"

Dumbledore's corn-flower blue eyes widened, though I found that they only flickered with the barest hint of the twinkle I had grown used to over the years. Something very disturbing must have taken place.

"I see that you are truly awake then, Ms. Weasely. And apparently you honestly do not have any idea as to why you're here, since you're asking as much. What may I ask is the last thing that you recall?"

He gestured for me to speak, and I felt the words stumbling forth from my lips, though I was very certain that I hadn't been the one to volunteer the action. "I was about to run down the stairs and inform my mother and father that there was a snake in my room, and that I'd been bitten, and was in desperate need of a mediwizard."

The old man raised a cryptic eyebrow. "Mmmh...that's interesting, my dear. Tell me, there was nothing else...?"

I thought about the face I had seen before I fell unconscious, that grinning mask of decay and things found only in the dark recesses of nature. If he sincerely could read minds, he'd know beyond a shadow of a doubt what I was thinking now. However, I didn't need to volunteer anything.

 "No, nothing else. May I inquire the reason for the questioning?"

"You may, Ms. Weasely, but that doesn't mean the Headmaster will be inclined to indulge your request."

Turning toward the direction the painfully sober voice had arisen from, I wasn't too surprised to find that Snape was in the room, leaning against the wall rather than sitting on a stool. I'd suspected since last year that he and Dumbledore had some sort of important ties with one another, whether that is of the professional, companionable, or of the, uh-hem, erotic kind, I wasn't sure, and didn't know if I wanted to find out.

Well, maybe I did, if just to satisfy for perversity's sake...for all I know, the two could be heavily involved within Knockturn Alley's S&M underworld.

Dumbledore raised a gnarled hand to his temple, as though to ward off a headache. He seemed to remember where he was, however, and obviously thought better of it. For a fleeting moment I thought of how grand it would be if he had seen that image.

I didn't bother to suppress the amused grin that stretched across my face. Oh, he must have simply adored that one.

"Child, this is rather urgent, despite appearances. Are you completely sure that you do not recollect anything more than what you've told me?"

I was about to take pity on him, as he looked so ancient and weary to me for an instant then. But as I opened my mouth, and was just about to tell him of my vision, my jaw abruptly snapped shut, as though someone had lifted their hand to my chin and closed it for me.

I must have visibly paled, as I saw Snape and Dumbledore exchange a puzzled glance over my head.

"Virginia, are you feeling alright?"

I nodded, another involuntary response racked from me. The feeling was not above comparison with existing only as a ventriloquist's puppet.

As I felt the strings begin to loosen their grip, I relaxed slightly more. Someone was toying about in my head, and I had a distinct impression of whom that someone might be.

Though for now, unfortunately, I could do nothing to tell anyone. Some vestige, whatever it was, of Voldemort was in my mind, possibly having lain dormant till presently.

Go away, I silently willed. Relent your grasp; you've no advantage here anymore.

Of course, there was no reply. But that seemed a form of his laughter to me, just the same.

I pulled myself away temporarily from my predicament and made a valiant attempt to concentrate on the dilemma at hand.

"Headmaster, Professor Snape...to get straight to the point...what is this all about? Why am I here to begin with and where is my family?"

My interrogator smiled, though it was of the rueful kind. I didn't care for the way that it looked upon his sagging, normally genial features. It made me wonder at him, and I did so hate wondering about things. Life would just be so much simpler, and so much better if everyone could be happy wallowing in their own ignorance. Who was this man sitting across from me?

"You always were a no-nonsense sort of young woman, Ms. Weasely. Well, you have asked and shall receive. If nothing else, you do remember that Mr. Potter was staying over the holidays with your family, correct?"

I blinked, muttering a distracted confirmation as I suddenly found the threads of the bed linens to be remarkably fascinating. My instincts weren't taking kindly to this at all.

"To come straight to the point, as you would wish, when Mr. Potter and your brother were up in the attic rem-"

I interrupted. I couldn't help it. It was my way of preparing myself for the worst contrivable possibility.

"-and they were suddenly assaulted by flesh-eating moths, right? Or maybe some wayward dementor managed to get into the house and give one of them the Kiss. Or was it one of You-Know-Who's minions, raiding the burrow and raping my mother and quartering my father? Oh, just think of the lawn gnomes...they wouldn't have stood a chance against a dea-"

"Ms. Weasely, are you quite finished? Come now, do not be frightened. Everyone happens to be perfectly fine, so set your let your fears be assuaged. The problem, I fear, is concerning you, my dear."

I stopped the rampant tragedies that I had been forming and discarding in my mind in as brief a time as it took him to finish his sentence. The problem was myself? What had transpired that could be so horrible...?

Peering up, I felt my brow furrow, this time of my own accord. "What have I done, Headmaster?"

There was an audible snort of derision behind me.

Dumbledore fingered his white beard thoughtfully, as though it were a personal science. "The question, Virginia, is relating to what you have not succeeded in doing. It looks as though you had been griped by a temporary fit of insanity. You say that you were poisoned by a serpent, true? Where did you discover this creature?"

I processed what he said, mulling over more irrational possibilities. "It was in my bureau, beneath one of my garments. Please, Professor, what did I do, or not do, as you put it? I need to know now."

There was a tangible silence that pervaded the room before he managed to successfully deal the blow, one that would leave me reeling for awhile.

"You made an attempted murder on Harry Potter."

In the back of my mind, I knew that I detected an unpleasant, resentful laughter.

~*~*~

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