So this chapter is largely un-beta'd. Just thought I'd issue a fair
warning.
I should probably also say that I'm not JKR and I own none of this except Astrid. She almost cool enough to make up for it, but only almost.
I love everyone who has reviewed so far, I really do.
To anyone who hasn't reviewed, please do so! Please!
I guess this is all.
*****
"Imperia," muttered a deep voice. He silently hoped the lesser version of the Imperious would work. This version would only last 24 hours, and was legal, unlike its older brother. A vacant look fell over the eyes of the recipient of the curse.
"You will go back to your common room, act as though everything is normal, and wait for more instructions from me after lunch tomorrow." With any amount of luck, he would only need 24 hours.
*****
"So, uh, Velvet?" Ginny asked. She glanced over at her best friend from her year and raised an eyebrow. Jae pretended not to hear Ginny. The pair sat on cushions in front of the fireplace in Gryffindor common room. Ginny leaned against a couch, while Jae lay flat on her stomach on the cushion, book propped up on another cushion in front of her.
"Velvet, I think Ginny is trying to ask you something," Colin chided from his seat in Hermione's usual chair. Jae continued to ignore her friends.
"I think we were simply wondering how you got the name Jae out of Velvet Esmeralda," Ginny voiced the question everyone else had silently wondered but shied away from asking in the three weeks since Marissa's announcement to the common room.
"I'll answer that question, and then I shall never hear my whole name from your lips again," Jae replied.
"So answer, Velvet Esmeralda," Colin said, smiling sweetly down at Jae. She responded with a visual Avada Kedavara. Colin pretended not to notice.
"Sorry," he said. "I had to say it one more time before I'm banned."
"When I was in my very first year of school, there were 26 children in my class. To make us all learn the alphabet, our teacher decided to assign each child a letter. I don't really remember the exact details of it all except that I was J and that was when J was born and Velvet died. I was simply the letter J until the year before I came to Hogwarts when I added an 'a-y' to make it more interesting," Jae explained.
"So you got to be J-A-E how?" Ginny asked.
"That year in school a boy transferred into my class and his name was 'J-A-Y' so I changed mine to 'J-A-E' and they called him 'y' and me 'e'," Jae replied.
"You have real issues with letters, don't you?" Colin joked.
"I tend to think that my name is much better than the one my parents cursed me with," Jae replied simply. "And it's impossible to guess my real name from my nickname, so it all works out in the end."
"Yeah Jae, you've put a bit too much thought into this," Colin laughed. Jae shrugged and turned back to her reading.
"Of course, if I had a name like Vel-," Jae silenced Ginny with a single glare. "Like Jae's real name," Ginny continued. "I'd go by Jae too." Jae smiled and nodded at her friends.
"See, I have a perfectly good reason," she laughed. Ginny and Colin both rolled their eyes at the girl. Before any of them could say anything else, the portrait crashed open and seven sweaty, slightly smelly people clattered through. Hermione followed them, primly holding a clipboard. Katie fell onto the couch Ginny leaned against. She lay flat on her stomach with her left arm and leg hanging off of the couch and her head resting on the armrest. George lay down exactly on top of her, causing her to attempt to giggle. Angelina flopped down into a chair next to Colin while Fred sat directly on top of his brother's back. Alicia grabbed a cushion from the second couch on her way to the floor between Ginny and Jae. Ron tumbled onto the couch, arms and legs sprawled in such a way that he took up more than half of the couch. Harry crashed onto the floor next to Alicia, while Hermione slid into the seat next to Ron.
"I HATE Oliver Wood," Ron whined.
"That bad?" Ginny asked?
"YES!" chorused the team.
"You know guys, I really appreciate the love, but there are plenty of other places for you to sit," Katie gasped from under the twins.
"But we love you, Katie," the twins chorused.
"Fred," Hermione warned from her spot. Fred promptly jumped off of George's back and ran over to the couch Hermione and Ron occupied. He threw himself down between Ron and Hermione, lying flat on his back. He propped his head on the armrest on Hermione's end of the couch, causing his upper body to fall in Hermione's lap. He propped his feet on Ron's armrest. Ron was too exhausted to notice his brother's legs in his lap.
"George?" Katie asked. George faked a loud snore. "George really. This is slightly uncomfortable." Katie tried one more tactic when George still didn't move. "If you lay there much longer, you may injure me and I won't be able to help kick Beauxbatons's arse in the match in February." George instantly rolled to his left, flipping off of Katie and into the floor with a loud thud, narrowly missing Ginny. He never once opened his eyes or let down his sleep charade.
"So how was practice?" Ginny asked, wisely ignoring her older brother.
"Horrible!" Fred moaned.
"Terrible," Angelina agreed.
"Simply the worst," Katie added.
"I'm leading by two now!" Ron cried, semi-joyfully.
"Leading by two?" Colin asked, raising his eyebrow at the fifth year.
"I have four, Fred and George each have two, and Angelina has one," Ron replied.
"Four, two and one what?" Jae questioned. She abandoned her book and rolled over on her back to look at Ron.
"Bloody noses," Ron answered. He smiled down at his sister's friend.
"That's something to brag about?" Jae asked.
"Well, I didn't have a bloody nose, but I certainly did give Malfoy one," Ron supplied. "I crashed a quaffle right into his face!"
"But that's what he gets. Or I suppose what Oliver gets. Somehow I think forcing a keeper to train against three quaffles at once is a little ridiculous," Harry said.
"Three at once?" Ginny gasped.
"Three at once," Hermione supplied. "I've healed Malfoy's face more times than I care to count. He sits there and mutters things about mudbloods while I'm healing him. If he wasn't such a bloody good keeper, I'd put an anticoagulant charm on his nose next time someone breaks it."
"Anticoagulant?" Katie asked.
"He'd bleed out eventually unless he came up with a counter charm," Hermione replied lightly.
"Bleed out?" Alicia questioned.
"Yes. Bleed out. As in all of the blood would leak out of his body and that would be that," Hermione said with an evil grin at the chaser.
"YOU CAN'T BLEED OUT OUR KEEPER!" Alicia screamed.
"Oh, I don't much fancy a trip to Azkaban either," Hermione laughed. "So don't worry, no anticoagulant charms for Malfoy's nose."
"No anticoagulant charms for any part of Malfoy at ALL!" Angelina cried. "He's a git, but he's a bloody good keeper. I don't much fancy going against Beauxbatons without him."
"What about me?" Ron asked.
"You're a bloody good keeper too, but to have an all Gryffindor team would look bad on Hogwarts," Alicia explained.
"And besides. If Malfoy was dead, the team eye-candy would be gone," Angelina muttered.
"Eye-candy?" Ron asked.
"Don't ask," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"I want to know!" Ron insisted.
"He's the only guy on the team worth looking at," Katie provided. George sat up and glared directly at Katie.
"So THAT'S what it takes to make you come alive," Katie laughed. George glared at her.
"You said Malfoy was cute," George pouted.
"No, I said he was the only guy on the team worth looking at. This is simply because I can't tell you from Fred when playing Quidditch, so I don't want to accidentally stare at Fred," Katie supplied.
"And besides, this is entirely subjective. I mean, he's practically Voldemort's heir, he's a prick and he has a rotten attitude. He's just also hotter than hell," Alicia laughed.
"I think you're all sick," Hermione insisted. She leaned over and dropped a kiss on Fred's sweaty forehead. He tossed his arm around her shoulders in reply.
"Fred, you really do smell horrible," Hermione announced.
"Thank you darling," Fred laughed. He pulled his head up and rested it on her shoulder, making sure part of his sweaty hair tickled her nose. Hermione laughed and pushed Fred back to his part of the couch.
"Do it!" a voice shouted from the corner.
"You chose dare!" another voice called. Parts of the group of older students recognized this voice as that of one Sawyer Lewis. Hermione struggled to see over the back of the couch to where the group of first years gathered in the corner of the common room. The youngest children in the house all crowded in the corner in something of a circle. All eleven were looking intensely at the group of older students, or, rather, the back of Hermione, Fred and Ron's couch. Hailey, Karey and Madeline all huddled in a small group in the farthest corner. The three girls kneeled primly on the ground, robes smoothed across their knees and tie's perfectly straight. Carson and Charlie lay to either side of them like a pair of well-trained guard dogs. The three girls looked anxiously at the back of the couch while the two boys couldn't have looked more disinterested if they had been in potions class. Nathan, Evelyn and Gus crowded together nervously next to Charlie. They didn't look as interested as the first five but more nervous at being included in the entire group activity. Sawyer and Jason sat a bit in front of Karey, Madeline and Hailey waving their encouragement to the back of the couch. Hermione glanced over the first years again, realizing Astrid was mysteriously absent. Suddenly, everyone's interest in the back of the couch became clear. A small blonde haired form sprang over the back of the couch, just next to Ron's left ear. She leaned around the fifth year and blindly kissed towards his face before flipping backwards around the couch and running back to her group.
Ron reached up and touched a spot on his face just above his lips, rather next to his nose.
"ARGH!" He exclaimed. "I do believe I just got kissed by a first year!"
"Good thing you snogged Mandy at the Yule Ball then," Fred laughed.
"Yeah," George added. "If your first kiss was a first year, we'd never let you live it down!"
"My first kiss wasn't even Mandy, thank you very much," Ron spat. He still hadn't taken his fingers from his face.
"It WASN'T?" Angelina asked.
"Who was it then?" Katie pressed for an answer. Everyone in the group sitting next to the fire turned to look at the tallest redhead.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ron asked, smiling mischievously at the group.
"Yes, we would, and that's precisely why we asked you," Alicia laughed.
"So who was it, ickle-Ronnikins?" Fred questioned.
"Your girlfriend," Ron quipped.
"Hermione?" Fred asked, jaw dropped. The chasers dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter, while George and Ginny simply grinned at their brothers. Jae and Colin looked utterly befuddled by the entire situation while Harry rolled his eyes at the entire group.
"No, your other girlfriend," Ron laughed, glaring down at his brother whose legs were still cast across his lap. "Oh, that's right," Ron continued. "You haven't had any others."
"Don't you remember at the very beginning of the year?" Hermione asked. "We kissed in the common room and then instantly screamed about how it felt like kissing our siblings."
"Oh yes, I remember now," Fred laughed. "I'm glad you don't remind ME of my sister." He leaned up and planted a gigantic kiss on her lips.
'Do you think we should either punish the first years or at least break up their little game?" Ron asked. Hermione broke away from her kiss and glared at him sheepishly over Fred's head.
"If you want to you can, but I think at this point that might be a bit hypocritical of me," she said.
"It was only Astrid, Ron. You can't take points from Astrid," Harry muttered.
"Playing favorites, are we?" Head girl Alicia asked. Harry shrugged noncommittally.
"Maybe," he replied.
"You shouldn't play favorites," Alicia scolded. Harry shrugged again.
"It's difficult to discipline your friends, and Astrid is definitely a friend even though she's only 11," Harry attempted to explain. Alicia shrugged at the seeker.
"So I should take points," Alicia said.
"Or you could just break up their game," Angelina suggested. Alicia nodded.
"Quidditch practice has really fried my brain. That does seem like the most reasonable suggestion," she agreed. She rolled over and looked at the ceiling, contemplating standing.
"Come on, Alicia, it's really not that hard. Just go yell at the first years," Katie urged.
"Ron, you're a prefect. Tell them it's lights out time," Alicia instructed from the floor. She still hadn't managed to stand up or move much at all. Ron glared at Alicia before turning to glare at the first years over his shoulder.
"Kids, go to your dorm rooms now," he instructed, rather louder than necessary. The eleven students split and hightailed to their rooms. When Ron looked again, Jason, Sawyer and Astrid still sat in the corner. The pair of boys huddled around their friend, partially obscuring Ron's view.
"What part of go to your rooms didn't you all understand?" Ron asked. Jason and Sawyer looked over at him with particularly terrified looks on their faces. Quickly enough, they broke away from Astrid and ran for the stairs. Astrid remained seated, hands clamped around her ankle.
"Could you come here for just a minute?" the first year requested before Ron could say anything to her.
"Astrid, really, I don't much feel like moving," Ron replied.
"Harry, if you summon me," Astrid began, before Harry had a chance to move. "I'll."
"You'll do what?" Harry asked with a maniac laugh.
"Seriously, one of you please come here," Astrid requested, sounding a lot more calm and a bit more helpless than she had before.
"Why don't you come here?" Harry whined.
"I twisted my ankle running back over here after that last dare," Astrid explained. "I don't want to walk over there because my ankle hurts."
"Well we don't fell like moving! Quidditch practice was rotten!" Ron exclaimed.
"Hold on Astrid, I'll be there," Hermione said. She dumped Fred off of her lap and sprang to her feet, narrowly missing stepping on Fred's head. She stomped around the couch and over to where Astrid sat.
"What's up?" she asked, sinking to the floor next to the little girl. Astrid had both hands clamped around her left ankle.
"I twisted my ankle and it really hurts," Astrid said, looking up at Hermione through eerie silver-grey eyes. Hermione reached for Astrid's hands.
"How about I have a look at it?" Hermione asked, reaching for the girl's hands. Astrid willingly let her hands drop away from her ankle. Hermione propped Astrid's thin ankle up in her own lap and looked it over.
"It doesn't look swollen or anything," she said.
"It hurts really really badly," Astrid insisted. Hermione began running her right index and middle fingers all over Astrid's foot to try to feel anything out of place. Her fingers fell on a spot just above the anklebone on the inside of Astrid's leg.
"Bloody hell!" Hermione shrieked.
"What's the problem?" Astrid asked innocently.
"Your ankle is so hot that it probably should be melting," Hermione replied. She held out her fingers to Astrid. The tips of both fingers were dark pink in color from touching the girl's ankle.
"It's not melting is it?" Astrid asked, raising an eyebrow at Hermione.
"Not melting, but probably fully ready to combust," Hermione replied.
"This is the worst it's been in a while," Astrid admitted, leaning back against the wall.
"I can understand that. We should take you to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said.
"I'd really rather not go. You're the trainer for the Quidditch team. If you can heal my brother's face then you can heal my ankle, right? Astrid asked.
"Do you think a cooling spell would help?" Hermione asked.
"Probably. I think that's about all Madame Pomfrey could do," Astrid replied.
"Alright, I'll cool it and then get Ron to carry you up to your room, how does that sound?" Hermione questioned.
"Sounds fine by me," Astrid replied. Hermione pulled her wand out and pointed it at the hottest point on Astrid's ankle. She muttered a spell and instantly Astrid's ankle cooled off.
"Thanks Hermione," Astrid said.
"No problem," Hermione replied. "Hey Ron, come here!" The youngest Weasley boy stumbled to his feet and trudged over to where Hermione and Astrid sat. The three chasers, Ginny and Jae excused themselves to their rooms for the night, Ginny and Jae citing girl talk as a reason, while the chasers went with Katie's "I'm the stinky kid in school and no one likes the stinky kid."
"Could you carry me upstairs?" Astrid asked. "My ankle hurts and I don't think I can walk by myself." Hermione shot Ron an imploring look that commanded him to comply with the little girls request.
"Sure thing chica," Ron replied. He reached down and scooped up the tiny first year into his arms. "You know, this is going to be really hard if you ever decide to grow."
"Don't worry, I don't much think I'll get bigger than this," Astrid laughed. Ron began ascending the stairs to the girls' dorm. About halfway up, the pair heard a grinding noise. The source sounded like it was deep within the stairs. Before either had time to react, the stairs flattened into a stone slide. Ron struggled to run up the slide, but ultimately Astrid's added weight caused them both to catapult backwards down the stairs.
"Bloody hell!" Ron cried. He had landed flat on his back with Astrid's legs pinned under his upper body.
"Get off my hurt ankle, you great dolt!" Astrid squealed. Ron struggled to roll over and away from the little girl.
"Thank you," Astrid mumbled, hands returning protectively to her ankle.
"Who did this?" Hermione asked, turning to face the boys crowded around the fire.
"Not us!" Freed and George chorused. Before they could say anything else, their fiery-red hair morphed into a loud shade of neon green.
"It was you!" Hermione insisted, instantly remembering her Christmas gift from Bill. "Your brother charmed your hair to turn green if you lied about your relative guilt or innocent."
"And you two should take a look in a mirror," Colin giggled.
"Shove it, Creevey," George spat.
"So how did you make the stairs do that? Must say it's a pretty impressive piece of magic!" Hermione said, looking back at the stairs. They were still full in slide form.
"We didn't," Fred said. "We were on our way up to see you and Katie and we accidentally invoked a piece of magic that's been there for who knows how long," Fred looked up at his girlfriend through stormy blue eyes. "Forgive me?"
"I suppose," Hermione laughed. "But how, pray tell, do I get up to my room?" she put her hand on her hip and looked down at her boyfriend and his twin brother. The twins exchanged a particularly nervous glance.
"Well you see, the last time the stairs changed there wasn't as much of a problem when they switched back at dawn," George half said, half coughed. Hermione turned an alarming shade of deep purple.
"DAWN!" she screeched.
"Yes, something like that," Fred admitted. His smile remained plastered on his face as he looked at his girlfriend through eyes pleading for forgiveness.
"We get to have a slumber party!" Astrid squealed. She still sat against the wall at the bottom of the steps turned slide.
"Yeah, it looks like it's me and you, kid," Hermione laughed, glancing over her shoulder at the first year.
"Now that that's settled, we're off to shower!" Fred exclaimed. He jumped to his feet, dropped a kiss on Hermione's lips and tore up the stairs before she could say anything. George shrugged at Hermione before running off after his brother.
"I need sleep. Potions homework first thing in the morning and all," Colin said. He stood up, closed his book and stretched broadly. "Night all." He waved at the three fifth years and Astrid as he walked up the stairs towards his dorm.
"Why don't you guys come to our slumber party too?" Astrid asked, looking from Harry to Ron then to Hermione. Ron shrugged.
"I guess we could," Harry replied, glancing over at Ron.
"I'm the smelly kid in school right now though, be back in a bit." Ron jumped to his feet and rushed the stairs. Harry shrugged at the two girls and chased after him. A good two minutes later, the portrait hole opened and closed as an invisible Harry crept out.
*****
"Popcorn!" Harry exclaimed. He sank onto the couch next to Astrid holding a large bowl on his lap. He grabbed a handful of the fluffy white pieces and popped them into his mouth before passing the bowl onto Astrid. Ron lounged on the floor in front of the fire flat on his back. He had his hands folded on top of the pillow underneath his head and he stared at the ceiling. Hermione curled in her favorite armchair with a large book. Harry pushed a few wisps of his wet hair back off of his forehead.
"So what do you do at a slumber party?" he asked, reaching for another handful of popcorn.
"Talk about girl stuff and giggle a lot," Astrid replied with a tone that clearly said she was not in the mood for giggling. She looked up from the piece of parchment she was scribbling on and glared at Harry.
"Whatcha writing, chica?" Ron asked, looking over at Astrid.
"A letter," Astrid replied, no sound of emotion in her voice.
"To who?" Ron asked.
"Whom Ron, whom," Hermione scolded, without looking up from her book.
"Draco," Astrid shrugged the word off as if it was nothing.
"What are you writing a letter to him for?" Ron practically shouted.
"He is my brother, Ron," Astrid replied. Her left hand still moved furiously across the parchment.
"He's never been nice to you before though," Ron countered.
"Things change. Christmas this year was quite interesting." Astrid's hand stopped and she glanced over the parchment, blowing momentarily on the word at the bottom before folding the parchment. "Now could you tell me if he went towards the Hufflepuff or Slytherin common room after Quidditch practice. I need to know where to send this owl."
"Hufflepuff?" Ron asked.
"He's doing some extra work for one of his classes and Dumbledore has provided him a separate workspace rather in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room," Astrid explained.
"Actually, I'm not sure exactly which way he went," Harry said. "Sanguinis asked him to stay after for a bit, so we left them both down at the field." Astrid shrugged and glanced over at Ron.
"Can I borrow your owl?" she asked.
"To send to Malfoy?" Ron asked. "I think not."
"Malfoy would murder Pig," Hermione said. She whistled sharply and Sebastian appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the girls' dorm. "You can use Sebastian."
"That owl looks like Adonis," Astrid said as Sebastian came to a graceful rest on Hermione's shoulder.
"Adonis?" Hermione and Harry chorused. Astrid shrugged.
"Draco's owl. He named it when he was 10," she laughed.
"Very typically Malfoy," Hermione muttered, shaking her head.
"So what changed over Christmas?" Ron asked as Hermione attached Astrid's letter to Sebastian's leg.
"Well, Finley died. I guess you all heard about that," Astrid began.
"We did," Hermione cut in.
"I really shouldn't be telling you this, I mean, none of you are exactly first in the potential best friend for Draco Malfoy line," Astrid said, staring off into the fire.
"Astrid, I, more than just about anyone, understand that family is the only thing stronger than a head lock," Ron began.
"And if part of yours has started to be less of a bastard, then we don't mind hearing about it and certainly won't hold it against him," Harry finished.
"Although I wouldn't mind putting him in a headlock," Ron muttered. Astrid glared reproachfully at her older friend.
"So Finley died. As you could tell, Draco had to read at her funeral," Astrid began her story again. She took a deep breath before plowing onward. "Keiran made a couple of nasty comments about the whole matter and Lucius has a general no emotion policy. All of that built up and paired with the fact that Finley's murder happened on what should have been Barrett's eighth birthday threw Draco for a proverbial emotional loop."
"And this affects his attitude towards you how?" Ron queried.
"I think the idea of losing Finley on Barrett's birthday made him want to spend time with the sisters he has left or something," Astrid replied. "He actually came in Emma's room on Christmas morning and opened presents with us," the tiny girl drew her pajama covered knees towards her chest and looked at her friends.
"I take it he was close to Barrett?" Hermione assumed. She had abandoned her book in favor of listening to Astrid's story.
"Does Draco seem like the type of person who would take orders from anyone?" Astrid asked. Ron shook his head while Harry shrugged and popped more popcorn in his mouth at the same time.
"No," Hermione answered for the trio.
"Well, Barrett had Draco twisted around her little finger so tightly that I'm fully surprised he could breathe. Draco and Little Bear were inseparable. He was her hero and in turn, he adored her."
"Doesn't seem very Malfoyish to me," came Ron's off-handed comment.
"Draco's not always been a complete prick," Astrid countered. Ron snorted and laughed and rolled over on his stomach. He rested his elbows on the floor and his chin on his hands.
"What changed him?" Ron challenged, blue eyes flashing.
"Something about being forced to watch his baby sister murdered on the night of his 11th birthday would have a tendency to do that to a person, don't you think?" Astrid raised an eyebrow at Ron and gulped down the sob crawling up her throat. Ron's face went ashen, freckles standing out brightly. Harry's green eyes flashed over to the girl. Hermione ran her fingers through her already frazzled hair.
"He had to watch?" Harry asked quietly.
"What were the circumstances surrounding the murder?" Hermione questioned at the same time. Astrid swallowed hard and hugged her knees tighter. She took a deep albeit shaky breath before beginning her story.
&&&&&
"Thank you, Lucius, for bringing your son into my service," Voldemort's hissing voice slid smoothly from the mouth in the back of Quirrell's head. Draco looked from his father to the man with the cat-like red eyes and no nose standing in front of them both.
"I willingly bring him in hopes he will make a suitable heir to help restore you to the power you deserve." Lucius's speech sounded recited. He dropped to one knee and brushed a kiss across Quirrell's knuckles.
"Shall we begin the initiation ceremony then?" Voldemort hissed.
"As you wish, my lord," Lucius replied, returning to his feet. He turned to Draco and placed his hand on the boys shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Yes father," Draco lied. He tried to stand up straighter and adjusted his dress robes so they fell straight.
"Very good, boy," Voldemort said. Quirrell rolled the sleeve of his robe and pressed a finger to part of the elaborate dark mark burnt into his skin. The lowest extremity of he mark burned dark black. Lucius winced and grabbed his own arm. Moments later, five pops sounded and five more people stood in the dungeon where Quirrell, Lucius and Draco all stood.
"What's going on?" One of the men asked.
"I felt the mark burn," came another voice. Quirrell turned so the five men could see Voldemort's face.
"Yes men, you did feel my call. As members of my inner circle, the six of you have been asked here to assist in installing young Master Malfoy as my heir," Voldemort hissed. The Death Eaters didn't question their leader. Instead, they moved to form a circle around Draco. Voldemort/Quirrell stood with Voldemort's face towards Draco. Lucius stood directly behind Draco, also facing Voldemort.
"Draco Argentum Lucentio Malfoy," Voldemort began. Draco looked quite unsure of whether to correct the dark Lord. He decided against it. Lucius spoke.
"Narcissa decided that was too much name for a baby," Lucius said. "She named him Draco Cullen Malfoy instead." Draco cringed involuntarily when his father corrected Voldemort.
"You allowed her?" Voldemort asked.
"I wasn't present for his birth so he had been named before I could do anything about it," Lucius explained.
"Very well then," Voldemort replied. He looked down at Draco again. Draco attempted not to cower in the Dark Lord's gaze.
"Draco Cullen Malfoy," Voldemort began again. His gaze on the boy hardened. "Has your father fully explained what will be asked of you, my heir?"
"Yes my lord," Draco's words came just as Lucius had instructed him. Quirrell turned to face Draco. He held out his hand to the eleven-year-old.
"Come here, boy," Voldemort's voice issued from the back of Quirrell's head. Draco felt compelled to close the space between himself and his future professor. He stood completely motionless before the man. Quirrell placed his palm on Draco's forehead, spreading his fingers along the boy's carefully gelled hair. Quirrell closed his eyes and almost instantly Draco felt as though a herd of Cornish Pixies was running amok in his brain. Visions of himself and his siblings poured forth. A tiny girl with curly hair and unusually large, abnormally brown eyes dominated most. Malfoy's didn't have brown eyes. At least, that had been Lucius's only comment at the first wide-eyed look he'd received from his youngest daughter and only brown-eyed child.
Quirrell pulled his hand away form Draco's forehead and stepped back from the boy.
"You lie," Voldemort hissed. Quirrell pointed an accusing finger at the boy. Draco carefully schooled his features into perfect passivity. Voldemort continued.
"You can only be willing to die for one master and I'm not the only one. Pity though, you would have made a fantastic heir. You're a truly powerful wizard and you already have a great understanding of pureblood superiority." Draco remained silent as Voldemort proceeded with his rambling. "I guess I should eliminate my competition so eventually you'll be a faithful death Eater." With that, Voldemort disapparated. A single thought ripped through Draco's head.
"BARRETT!" Draco turned on his heel and tore from the room, hoping he could make it to the nursery before Quirrell/Voldemort but at the same time, knowing he wouldn't. He jumped into a secret passage next to his piano room and ran as hard as he could towards the other end. Gasping for breath and mentally berating himself for being so slow, he tripped into the hallway next to his mother's study. Immediately, he jumped into another passageway leading towards the girls' nursery.
"Barrett." The name became a silent mantra as Draco raced along the passageway. He didn't know what he would do, other than save his baby sister. He jumped through the tapestry at the other end of the painting and tore towards the last door on the left side of the hall. He spun into the room to see his baby sister, favorite toy doll clutched in her arms, seated in the middle of the floor staring wide-eyed at a wormy looking figure in the corner.
"Barrett!" Draco shouted, diving for the three-year-old. Her little head snapped towards him.
"Dra-" the rest of the word never escaped her thin pink lips.
"Avada Kedavara," Quirrell muttered almost carelessly. The green light hit the girl just before Draco reached her. Draco fell to his knees next to the lifeless form of his baby sister. He gathered her tiny body into his arms and tried to avoid looking at the wide, no longer sparkling, unusual brown eyes. He rocked her back and forth and attempted to blink back the tears threatening to spill from his own silver-grey eyes.
"DRACO!" the harsh bark of his father's voice issued form the doorway.
"He killed her," Draco said evenly. He didn't take his eyes off the man in front of him. Two tears finally spilled down his porcelain cheeks and splashed into Barrett's white-blonde curls.
"Yes," Voldemort hissed. Quirrell twirled his wand and pointed it at Draco. "You are weaker than I originally suspected. You'll never do as a Death Eater. Ava-"
"Wait!" Lucius barked from the door.
"Yes?" Voldemort asked, stopping mid curse and turning to look at Lucius.
"I have another son. If you find him a suitable heir, will you spare Draco?"
"Why?" Voldemort asked.
"Because he is powerful and I believe with a year, I will be able to reform him to the point that he will be a suitable servant by the time he is 18," Lucius bargained.
"Let us go to your other son," Voldemort hissed. "And for interrupting, Crucio." Lucius crumpled to the floor in the throes of the curse. Quirrell walked purposefully out of the room. The five still- standing Death Eaters followed him. Suddenly the curse lifted from Lucius and the man stumbled to his feet and headed after his associates. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to his son. Despite his weakened state, the force that his black, steel toed, dragon hide boots connected with Draco's side was enough to sling the boy into the cold stone wall of Barrett's nursery.
&&&&&
"So that's pretty much how it went," Astrid explained. Hermione brushed a tear from her left eye. Ron looked at Astrid, open-mouthed and speechless. Harry scratched his head with one hand and scooped up more popcorn with the other.
"Wouldn't an experience like that cause someone to turn farther from whatever?" the popcorn paused halfway between the bowl and Harry's mouth.
"Oh, I don't know," Astrid shrugged. "Lucius's cane and wand are pretty powerful methods of persuasion."
"He beat Malfoy?" Hermione asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"We didn't see him for a full two weeks after his eleventh birthday," Astrid said. "When he finally came out of his room, he emerged as the heartless bastard he's been ever since. He would hardly speak to me and Emma but spent a lot of time in father's library with Keiran."
"So do you think he's chanced for good?" Ron queried. "I mean this time." Astrid shrugged, reaching for a bit of Harry's popcorn.
"Luicus has been indoctrinating him since he was born. I seriously doubt anyone but me or Emma will realize he may be changing at all," Astrid popped the popcorn in her mouth.
"The offer for the headlock still stands," Ron mumbled. His opinion of Malfoy hadn't changed at all.
"So wait, what about Keiran?" Harry asked, flinging a bit of popcorn at Ron.
"He took Draco's place as Voldemort's heir," Astrid replied, almost nonchalantly. "He's been evil ever since he accidentally hung our cat when he was three and decided it was more funny than sad. Voldemort found him perfectly acceptable." Ron snorted back a laugh.
"Voldemort has a heir?" Hermione asked, tugging nervously at a strand of her frizzy hair. Astrid nodded solemnly.
"Yes. None other than my own twin brother." Astrid paused for a moment. "And before your sixth Gryffindor sense of all that is good and noble kicks in, yes, Dumbledore knows. Does this explain my insistence on being in Gryffindor?"
"Perfectly," Hermione and Ron agreed.
"Good then, I'm going to sleep," Astrid announced. She promptly rested her head on the armrest and tucked her feet under Harry's leg. She closed her eyes and folded her hands under her cheek. Hermione picked up her book and resumed reading. Ron stared off into the fire. Harry began a careful examination of each individual kernel of popcorn before placing them in his mouth.
"Astrid?" Harry asked, after quite a bit of silence. The little girl didn't respond.
"She's asleep," Ron replied, looking over at the first year. Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered a quick spell in Astrid's direction. Both of the boys looked at her, quizzical looks on their faces.
"She won't be able to hear us if we're getting ready to talk about what I think we're getting ready to talk about, but it only tunes out conversation about Keiran and such" Hermione explained.
"What are we getting ready to talk about?" Ron joked. Harry and Hermione both glared at him.
"I thought you had to be a Malfoy to do that right," Ron muttered.
"Astrid taught us," Harry spat.
"So what do you guys think of this news about Keiran?" Hermione asked.
"It certainly explains my dreams," Harry replied through a mouthful of popcorn.
"Shouldn't that be empty by now?" Ron asked, eyeing the blue bowl perched in Harry's lap.
"Dobby charmed it," Harry offered by way of explanation. Ron nodded and dropped his face back into his pillow.
"Attention to the subject at hand please boys," Hermione insisted.
"Yes McGonagall," Ron muttered.
"So it explains my dreams," Harry continued, "And I guess I trust Dumbledore, although I do question the logic of letting Voldemort's heir into school."
"Why does he even need a heir?" Ron asked. "That shoots the immortality theory to shit."
"Do you remember the tests I did?" Hermione asked.
"The one's where Harry blew up the magic meter?" Ron questioned.
"Yes," Hermione replied. She turned on her side and rested her head on the armrest. She kicked her feet over the other armrest and stared at the ceiling.
"Do those results have anything to do with Voldemort's heir?" Harry guessed.
"I don't know," Hermione began.
"But you have a theory so go ahead and spill it," Ron joked. Hermione glared at him from her perch in the chair before continuing with her theory.
"So there are innate magical capacities imbued in siblings," Hermione began.
"WOAH!" Ron shouted.
"What?" Hermione asked. Ron rolled over onto his back and looked up at his friend.
"Cough up that dictionary you ate for breakfast and speak real English here," Ron instructed. Hermione shot a withering glance at Ron before rephrasing her sentence.
"Brothers and sisters are more powerful when they're close to each other. It stands to reason that you-know-who draws power from Keiran. Little Malfoy must have gone through some spells and rites and such that make him more directly tied to you-know-who than even his own twin," Hermione explained.
"It does," Harry agreed. "But why would the most powerful wizard this side of Dumbledore need to draw power from an eleven year old boy?"
"Good point," Hermione said.
"So Keiran is You-Know-Who's heir. Suppose You-Know-Who is drawing power from Keiran. Does that mean he's indirectly drawing from Astrid too?" Ron questioned.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"They ARE twins, and Fred and George have more of a tie to each other than they do to any of us, or that any of us do to each other," Ron explained. He ran his fingers through his red hair, making it stand wildly on end.
"It does stand to reason," Hermione agreed. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip.
"So what if the Malfoy twins are telepathic and Keiran is sucking information about Harry from Astrid without Astrid realizing it?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged and turned his popcorn bowl upside down.
"It's empty," he announced.
"Harry man, be serious! We're talking about your future here!" Ron cried.
"What's there to talk about?" Harry shrugged. " I've fought the bad man four times already. I'll inevitably have to face him a fifth time and when I do one of us will win. The other will very likely end up dead. It's just the way things work." Harry explained his possible death as simply as Flitwick would explain a levitating charm.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped.
"What?" Harry asked, turning innocently jaded green eyes on his best friend. "You have to admit that I'm probably right about it. I've come to accept it, you should too."
"Harry," Hermione said again.
"I've been lucky four times," Harry said. "If my luck holds out for a fifth try, then so be it, we win. If not. Well. Life goes on, right?"
"HARRY!" Hermione's statement came a third time.
"All I'm saying is you need to be prepared, but don't let it worry you," Harry continued.
"How could it not worry us?" Ron asked. "Especially now that we've got You-Know-Who junior's twin living in our midst!"
"We've just got to get prepared. Hopefully when chance number five comes, I'll be able to rely more on skill and less on luck," Harry said. He looked at the empty popcorn bowl again, before meeting the serious gazes of his two best friends.
"I'll go to the library," Hermione offered.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Harry laughed.
"Did you expect her to offer anything different?" Ron muttered.
"No really," Harry said. "I've come up with an idea that could very well help us all when that day comes."
"What is it?" Hermione looked positively elated at the prospect of research.
"I think it's time we take a page out of the Marauder's book," Harry began to explain.
"Kill Snape?" Ron brightened at that thought.
"Not quite," Harry replied. "I was thinking more along the lines of the Marauders greatest bit of mischief ever."
"I thought that was the attempted murder bit," Ron joked.
"Not quite," Harry spat.
"Animagi!" Hermione cried.
"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!" Harry hissed. "But yes, Hermione's on the right page."
"Shouldn't we go to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Harry replied. He looked directly at the girl. "And have to have ourselves bloody registered. Then we can send Voldemort an express owl saying by the way, the light has three new weapons in their arsenal."
"Four," muttered a sleepy voice from the end of the couch. Three heads snapped directly to Astrid.
"You think I'm letting you get away with that and not letting me in on it? I think not! I shall tell every professor I know what the three of you are up to," Astrid said, pulling herself into a sitting position on her end of the couch.
"When did you wake up?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"When Hermione started squealing like a banshee," Astrid explained. Hermione shot the boys looks that assured them Astrid had heard nothing of the previous conversations.
"Okay, so I see the point of being illegal animagi, but can't we get like Azkaban time if we're found out?" Hermione asked.
"By the time we're found out, I'm fairly certain we'll be in the midst of an all out-war. Little things like that tend to get overlooked in wartime so they'll probably just register us," Astrid yawned.
"The girl has a point," Ron said, nodding at Astrid. Astrid smirked at the fifth year.
"Of course I do. I'm a Malfoy. Our family's motto is 'it's only illegal when you get caught.' Some have shortened it to simply 'don't get caught'," she shrugged at her friends.
"So will you research it for us?" Harry asked, looking hopefully at Hermione. Hermione considered her options for a moment.
"Certainly," she replied quietly. Astrid pulled out her wand a muttered a spell. A moment later she caught a thin white card in her hand a flipped it to Hermione.
"You may need this," she said. Hermione looked down at the card in her hand. The label on it said "Restricted Section Access. Year Pass." Professor Binns signature graced the bottom of the pass.
"How did you get this?" Hermione asked, turning the card over and over in her hand to assure that it was official.
"Jason, Sawyer and I all have them. I transfigured them to look like permission slips that he needed to sign so we could miss class one day. When I turned them back, his signature stayed, we got out of class and now we've got restricted section access," Astrid explained. "He never figured it out."
"Why?" Hermione asked, slipping the card into her pocket.
"Mainly to see if I could," Astrid shrugged. Hermione shook her head in disbelief at the first year.
"And I see the sixth Gryffindor sense kicking in again. If you tell on me about the library pass, I shall rat out your Animagi project," Astrid smiled.
"That's blackmail!" Ron screeched.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Astrid asked with her brother's smirk plastered on her face.
"You really are a Malfoy," Harry shook her head at the first year.
"And you've rendered the three of us completely ineffective as prefects," Hermione muttered.
"Oh don't worry," Astrid said. "I'm not that evil. You three are still my friends, so I don't expect to get by with everything. That would make people ask questions. Immunity on most things would be nice though."
"We don't have much choice now do we?" Ron asked, glaring at the first year.
"I suppose you don't," Astrid laughed.
"You let her by with everything anyway," Harry said, glaring at the taller boy in the floor. Ron shrugged and tried to smooth down his hair.
"I don't want to turn into Percy," came his only explanation.
"If you three are fully through your devious plotting for the night, I think we should probably sleep," Astrid suggested.
"You're right," Hermione agreed. The boys shrugged. Hermione slid to the floor and stretched out perpendicular to Ron. Astrid slid back down and curled up into her corner of the couch. Harry slid into the other. He only took up half of the couch, with his knees pulled fully up to his chin.
"That can't be comfortable," Hermione said when she noticed Harry.
"I lived in a broom closet for well over two thirds of my life. This is perfectly comfortable," Harry replied. He pulled his glasses off and placed them in the floor next to him. Hermione turned to glance at Ron, but the red head had already closed his eyes and was fast on his way to sleeping. She turned back to Harry only to find that he, too, had closed his eyes. She put a dimming spell on the light of the fire and lay perfectly still. Eventually she heard two different patterns of even breathing coming from Harry and Astrid's couch and light snores coming from Ron's direction. She quietly pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at her hand. A muttered spell later and she held a tiny blue fire in the palm of her hand. She held it out in front of her like a torch and crept towards Harry and Astrid's couch. Harry still rested perfectly in the fetal position on his end. Astrid had kicked her right leg up to rest on Harry's feet. Her left foot crossed onto her right knee in what had to be the most uncomfortable sleeping position Hermione thought she had ever seen. The girl's lower body lay evenly on the couch while her upper body was turned to her left side. Both of her hands were clutched under her head. She didn't seem fazed at all by the contortion of her body.
"Perfect," Hermione muttered. While Astrid's back would probably hurt in the morning, her position couldn't be any more perfect for what Hermione was getting ready to do. The older witch pointed her wand directly at the girls left ankle. The inside, specifically where the hotspot had been earlier, slid into view as Hermione used her wand to nudge the bottom of the girls robe a few inches out of the way.
"Finite incantatem," Hermione muttered. Slowly the pale peachish pink of Astrid's skin faded away to reveal a series of dark black marks. Hermione looked closer at the marks and realized they formed a tattoo of sorts. An ornately filigreed sword pointed directly towards Astrid's heel. The blade displayed the words Ab Caedis, Divinitas. The handle of the blade was decorated with a crown of roses. Hermione cast another quick spell and the sword was coated in a thick black residue.
"Thank Merlin for Lavender, Parvati and their makeup spells," Hermione thought as she directed the layer of mascara off of Astrid's leg and over to a piece of scrap parchment. She made the mascara land on the parchment and then muttered a few quick spells to clean up Astrid's leg and re-conceal the tattoo. The readjusted the girls robe and moved back over to her spot in the floor below her chair. Placing the tiny blue flames on her shoulder, she picked up the piece of parchment and looked at it. She quickly summoned her journal from its hiding spot in the room and opened the book. She flipped to an empty page and pressed the tattoo imprint to it. After a few spells to make the mascara permanent, she pulled the first parchment away from the book page. All traces of the tattoo had transferred to Hermione's journal.
"Go to sleep! The books will still be there in the morning!" Harry hissed. Hermione jumped, quite startled by his interruption. She quickly hissed at the fire on her shoulder to go out and curled up in the floor right against her chair.
"Goodnight Harry," she whispered.
"Night 'Mione," he mumbled.
*****
"So why were you creeping about after you were supposed to be asleep last night?" Harry hissed to Hermione just before Defense the next morning. It was the first time the friends had been able to talk, Astrid-free, since the night before. Hermione pulled her journal out of her bag and held both covers. This action activated the charms and allowed the book to fall open in her hands. She leafed through the pages until she came to the mascara made imprint of what she found on Astrid's leg. She tilted the book towards Harry so he could see.
"Don't touch," she reminded him, "It'll snap closed."
"What is that?" he questioned, looking at the flower-crowned sword.
"I found it," Hermione began.
"Good Morning Class!" Dumbledore cut Hermione off mid sentence. Hermione shrugged. Harry tapped a finger lightly against the cover of the book. It slammed shut and Hermione slipped the thin volume back into her bag.
"Today we will begin our study of magical iconography as it relates to the Dark Arts," Dumbledore announced. He adjusted the sleeves of his sun covered royal blue robe around his bony wrists before he continued. "You will continue with a study of magical iconography through time this afternoon in History of Magic." Lavender tentatively raised her hand.
"Yes Miss Brown?"
"If you would please sir, stop speaking Hermione and define iconography for the rest of us," Lavender instructed. Dumbledore chuckled lightly s Hermione turned a shade of red more typically found on Ron's face.
"Iconography, more simply defined, is the group of symbols used to represent objects or ideas typical to a particular culture or group of people," Dumbledore explained. He removed his hat from his head and hung it on the back of his chair, smoothing his fluffy white hair with bony fingers.
"So how does that relate to this class?" Parvati queried.
"Wait!" Harry finally clued into Dumbledore's subject matter for the class. 'You mean magical iconography as in the Dark Mark!"
"Exactly," Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping his hands together twice.
"What is there to know about the Dark Mark? I thought it was a skull with a snake for the tongue and that was it," Dean said. He tucked a stray dread lock behind his left ear and looked at Dumbledore through innocent chocolate eyes.
"Simply a skull with a snake for the tongue?" Dumbledore echoed. He pointed a long finger at the board. An exact replica of the figure Dean described appeared on the board.
"So what would your reaction to seeing this mark be?" Dumbledore asked.
"Where?" Neville replied.
"Floating in the air above your house," Dumbledore offered with only a moment's consideration.
"HOLY SH-COOKIE DOUGH!" Seamus cried.
"Or something to that effect," Dean muttered.
"Cookie dough?" Parvati and Lavender chorused.
"Well he couldn't exactly say what he really thought now could he?" Dean asked, looking at the girls.
"Holy cookie dough is quite a fine expletive," Dumbledore said, nodding at Seamus. "Now what would your reaction be if you saw the mark on the arm of a person?"
"I'm sticking with the cookie dough," Seamus laughed. Dean, Neville, Parvati and Lavender nodded in agreement. Harry shook his head in opposition to their remark, while Ron and Hermione simply looked at him.
"It would depend on the situation," Harry offered.
"And on the person wearing the dark mark," Ron added.
"And the number of people wearing the dark mark versus the number of people not wearing the dark mark," Hermione said.
"And the amount of danger my actions would put those around me in," came Harry's next comment.
"Say you outnumbered the death eaters, they were all bad death eaters, and they weren't out to kill, just harm," Dumbledore came up with a hypothetical situation.
"Grabbing Hermione's cousin and beating the sh-cookie dough out of the nearest one worked rather well," Ron said with a goofy grin on his face.
"Wait, did you beat the Death Eater with her cousin?" Neville asked.
"Isn't this hypothetical?" Lavender queried.
"Now who is talking Hermione?" Dean flashed a grin at Lavender. Lavender glared at the boy.
"The tree thing worked rather well, until he apparated," Hermione muttered. Dumbledore raised his hand, commanding silence from the class. Instantly all eight heads turned to look at him,
"It seems as though Hermione, Harry and Ron have the true measure of what it takes to be a Gryffindor," Dumbledore said.
"Would you expect anything else from the three musketeers?" Seamus muttered. Ron and Hermione glared at him, but Harry was fully relieved that he didn't make any comments about the boy who lived.
"I would listen to them if I were you," Neville bravely spoke up, looking at his four remaining classmates. "They've lived what we've only heard about."
"Neville, it's really not that big of a deal," Ron insisted, blushing a deep crimson. "I mean, we only fought in one attack and that one was a distraction to keep the people that count away from the real deal."
"Don't discredit what you did over Christmas, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, smiling benevolently down at the boy. "There is a Death Eater in Azkaban now thanks to you and Mr. Granger."
"Great," Ron muttered. "Simply one more thing I have to worry about. If they ever pull a Sirius, there will be an angry Death Eater after me."
"Oh it's not so bad," Harry loftily joked. Dumbledore raised his hand for silence again. Then he pointed towards the figure on the board. The handle of a sword slowly grew from the top of the skull.
"What would you have if you saw that?" Dumbledore asked. The class remained silent. Hermione's hand even remained in her lap.
"FINALLY!" Seamus screeched. Everyone looked at him quizzically. "Hermione doesn't know the answer," he muttered sheepishly. The rest of the class and even Dumbledore laughed appreciatively.
"Does anyone have a guess?" Dumbledore questioned after the laughter subsided. Hermione tentatively raised her hand to just about her shoulder.
"Figures," Seamus muttered to the top of his table.
"Yes Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked.
"Would it be a different level of Death Eater? Like the army has different levels of soldiers and such?" Hermione guessed. She sounded quite apprehensive about her answer, and as soon as the guess passed through her lips, she caught her bottom lip in her teeth.
"Exactly!" Dumbledore said, casting another benevolent smile at the girl.
"So wait," Lavender paused, gathering her thoughts. "You mean some Death Eaters are worse than the others?"
"Does anyone have an answer for that?" Dumbledore looked to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry and Hermione looked absolutely stumped, but the thoughts running through Ron's head were practically visible.
"It's sort of like this Lavender," he began. "Think back to when you were like seven." Lavender nodded at the red head. "Now imagine Harry and me as Dark Wizards, just so I don't have to, you know, mention any names or anything."
"Get to your point Ron," Hermione said, tapping the redhead lightly on his arm.
"So when you were seven, and supposing we were out to get you, would you have rather met me or Harry somewhere without your parents?" Ron finally finished his analogy.
"Part of me says you, because I don't know you and I'd always heard stories about Harry, but the other part says Harry because I had heard of him," Lavender replied. "But the thought of you or Harry as Dark Wizards is preposterous."
"Hermione," Dean coughed. Lavender glared at him.
"Would you rather meet Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy?" Harry questioned. Every set of eyes in the room widened at Harry's use of Voldemort's name.
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the object itself," Harry and Dumbledore recited at the exact same time.
"Malfoy," Neville squeaked.
"Definitely Malfoy," Parvati agreed.
"And would you rather meet Lucius Malfoy or Goyle's father?" Harry questioned.
"Goyle's father!" Dean and Seamus chorused.
"So, supposing Lucius Malfoy and Goyle's father are death eaters, it stands to reason that Malfoy has one of those Dark Marks, while Goyle's looks more like the first," Harry explained.
"I tried," Ron shrugged.
"Perfect," Dumbledore said. "10 points to Gryffindor."
"I of course am not implying that Lucius Malfoy or Goyle's father are death eaters," Harry quickly added. The amount of snorts and eye rolls that passed over the class was enough to let Harry quickly know that everyone suspected anyway. Dumbledore pointed at the figure again and again the figure morphed. This time, a crown of flowers appeared around the handle of the sword.
"What about this one?" Dumbledore asked. "As the last one, we think, is the mark of those Death Eaters in Voldemort's inner ring." Hermione's jaw dropped, her eyes widened, and she punched Harry in his knee twice. His hands immediately flew to his knee and he glared at her. She had the look on her face that told everyone her next destination was the library.
"Wait till class is over, then you can skive off History of Magic and go to the library," Harry whispered, not figuring out what Hermione was so excited about.
"Would it be for you-know-who's favorite Death Eater?" Neville squeaked.
"As far as we can tell, you could equate it to that," Dumbledore replied.
"So let me get this straight," Seamus began. "The first one is 'oh cookie dough,' the second is 'holy cookie dough,' and the third goes right past cookie dough into things that would loose Gryffindor points."
"Right you are, Mr. Finnegan," Dumbledore said. Another quick point at the board and two skeletons appeared crossed below the large skull.
"There is only one more logical step up," Dean said.
"And what would that be, Mr. Thomas?" Dumbledore questioned.
"If you see the one person that supposedly has that, it's holy things that would loose Gryffindor points. Only you'd probably die before you could get all of that out," Dean replied.
"If you're trying to say that this is Voldemort's Dark Mark, then you're correct," Dumbledore said. The majority of the class paled visibly. Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"Are there any more variations of the Dark Mark?" she asked before Dumbledore could even call on her. Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before returning the glasses to their perch on his nose. He looked down at Hermione and paused a moment longer before answering her question.
"Not that we're aware of at the moment," he finally said.
"So there isn't a level where they have the skull but no snake tongue. And is it still a Dark Mark if there is no skull and is just bits of the other parts?" Hermione rushed through her questions.
"A skull with no snake is the sign of a Death Eater in the process of being initiated," Dumbledore explained. "Any more questions."
"Leave it alone," Harry hissed. He still hadn't exactly clued in on his friends insistence about missing parts of the dark mark, but he obviously saw that she was touching a subject Dumbledore didn't want to cover in class.
"What does Ab Caedis, Divinitas mean?" Hermione questioned.
"Ah yes, Ab Caedis, Divinitas," Dumbledore said. "Some say it is the motto of the Death Eaters."
"What does it mean?" Dean asked.
"From Blood, Power," Dumbledore replied. Looks of uncertainty passed between the members of the class.
"For your homework!" Dumbledore announced. This cured the uncertainty "I want a foot long parchment on Dark Magic Iconography from before this century." The bell diminished the student's groans.
*****
A shadowy figure stopped a lone prefect in the corridor after lunch.
"Listen to me. Directly after your afternoon class, you will go to the Potions dungeon and break into a cupboard." A pair of first years walked past the two boys and looked suspiciously at them before giggling and running off towards the library. The first boy lowered his voice to inaudibility and finished his instructions.
*****
"So what did you figure out?" Ron asked. He and Harry were seated at the chess table in the corner, virtually ignoring the game taking place between them. Hermione rushed in through the portrait hole and directly over to the pair. Her hair was frizzier than ever and she had a smudge of ink on the tip of her nose. She pulled her journal from her bag and flung it open to the page of Astrid's tattoo. She slammed the book down in the middle of the chess board and then laid another open book next to it.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing to a picture in the book.
"It's the Dark Mark of You-Know-Who's favorite death eater," Ron replied, recognizing the symbol that Dumbledore had shown them in class earlier. He picked up his chess case and started placing their pieces back in their individual spots.
"WRONG!" Hermione cried.
"Then what is it?" Ron asked, glaring up at his friend.
"It's Keiran's Dark Mark," Hermione said.
"How do you figure?" Ron asked.
"Because that!" Hermione jabbed her finger down on the picture of the sword in her journal. "I found that on Astrid's ankle last night after you three were all asleep!" Ron's jaw dropped while Harry dragged his fingers across his scar.
"But it makes perfect sense doesn't it? The sword is on Astrid's ankle. Dumbledore shows us this picture the day after Astrid basically tells us, well, you know. And this mark is probably the source of her pain, which usually happens to coincide with Harry's dreams about, well, you know, and his scar itching! And since the well you knows are the same!"
"Well, you know," came a small male voice from just behind Hermione, finishing her explanation. Ron grabbed Hermione's journal. It instantly clamped closed on his hand. Harry slammed the other book shut and stuffed it between himself and the seat of his chair.
"SAWYER!" Hermione exclaimed, more than a little suspiciously.
"Yes, I just caught the three prefects doing something they're probably not supposed to!" Sawyer cheered. "But all I really wanted was to ask if you had seen Jason. He and I have to go meet Mandrake Chelsea and Nathan and Hannah for extra potions help."
"Hannah?" Ron asked.
"She's doing a project for Snape that includes teaching a remedial potions course for first years. Something about reviewing for her O.W.L.S. and learning basic medi-magic potions at the same time," Harry quickly explained.
"Yeah, and she's a much better teacher than Snape!" Sawyer exclaimed. "But don't tell him I said that. He'd probably serve up an order of roast Sawyer for lunch."
*****
The door to Snape's classroom creaked slowly open and a lone fifth year stepped inside. He made his way over to the first cupboard he saw and pried the door open. Paying no attention to the fact that the cabinet was, in fact, unlocked, he surveyed the contents of the shelves. He chose a bottle filled with a murky green liquid from the top row and twisted the top off. The bottle was small, not more than an ounce and a half or two ounces. He glanced at it once more before tipping his head back and pouring the contents down his throat. He grabbed five more bottles from the cabinet, making sure none held the same color liquid. He pulled the stoppers out and lined the bottles up along the nearest lab table. After adding another six opened vials to the line, he poured another in his mouth. Letting the discarded bottle shatter on the floor, he reached for the next two. They quickly followed the first two. Three different ones followed those, and another one after those three. The potions mixing in his stomach immediately had an effect, and he fell to the floor amid broken glass and discarded bottle tops. He reached for one last potion. Before he could tip it down his throat, Draco collapsed, fully unconscious.
I should probably also say that I'm not JKR and I own none of this except Astrid. She almost cool enough to make up for it, but only almost.
I love everyone who has reviewed so far, I really do.
To anyone who hasn't reviewed, please do so! Please!
I guess this is all.
*****
"Imperia," muttered a deep voice. He silently hoped the lesser version of the Imperious would work. This version would only last 24 hours, and was legal, unlike its older brother. A vacant look fell over the eyes of the recipient of the curse.
"You will go back to your common room, act as though everything is normal, and wait for more instructions from me after lunch tomorrow." With any amount of luck, he would only need 24 hours.
*****
"So, uh, Velvet?" Ginny asked. She glanced over at her best friend from her year and raised an eyebrow. Jae pretended not to hear Ginny. The pair sat on cushions in front of the fireplace in Gryffindor common room. Ginny leaned against a couch, while Jae lay flat on her stomach on the cushion, book propped up on another cushion in front of her.
"Velvet, I think Ginny is trying to ask you something," Colin chided from his seat in Hermione's usual chair. Jae continued to ignore her friends.
"I think we were simply wondering how you got the name Jae out of Velvet Esmeralda," Ginny voiced the question everyone else had silently wondered but shied away from asking in the three weeks since Marissa's announcement to the common room.
"I'll answer that question, and then I shall never hear my whole name from your lips again," Jae replied.
"So answer, Velvet Esmeralda," Colin said, smiling sweetly down at Jae. She responded with a visual Avada Kedavara. Colin pretended not to notice.
"Sorry," he said. "I had to say it one more time before I'm banned."
"When I was in my very first year of school, there were 26 children in my class. To make us all learn the alphabet, our teacher decided to assign each child a letter. I don't really remember the exact details of it all except that I was J and that was when J was born and Velvet died. I was simply the letter J until the year before I came to Hogwarts when I added an 'a-y' to make it more interesting," Jae explained.
"So you got to be J-A-E how?" Ginny asked.
"That year in school a boy transferred into my class and his name was 'J-A-Y' so I changed mine to 'J-A-E' and they called him 'y' and me 'e'," Jae replied.
"You have real issues with letters, don't you?" Colin joked.
"I tend to think that my name is much better than the one my parents cursed me with," Jae replied simply. "And it's impossible to guess my real name from my nickname, so it all works out in the end."
"Yeah Jae, you've put a bit too much thought into this," Colin laughed. Jae shrugged and turned back to her reading.
"Of course, if I had a name like Vel-," Jae silenced Ginny with a single glare. "Like Jae's real name," Ginny continued. "I'd go by Jae too." Jae smiled and nodded at her friends.
"See, I have a perfectly good reason," she laughed. Ginny and Colin both rolled their eyes at the girl. Before any of them could say anything else, the portrait crashed open and seven sweaty, slightly smelly people clattered through. Hermione followed them, primly holding a clipboard. Katie fell onto the couch Ginny leaned against. She lay flat on her stomach with her left arm and leg hanging off of the couch and her head resting on the armrest. George lay down exactly on top of her, causing her to attempt to giggle. Angelina flopped down into a chair next to Colin while Fred sat directly on top of his brother's back. Alicia grabbed a cushion from the second couch on her way to the floor between Ginny and Jae. Ron tumbled onto the couch, arms and legs sprawled in such a way that he took up more than half of the couch. Harry crashed onto the floor next to Alicia, while Hermione slid into the seat next to Ron.
"I HATE Oliver Wood," Ron whined.
"That bad?" Ginny asked?
"YES!" chorused the team.
"You know guys, I really appreciate the love, but there are plenty of other places for you to sit," Katie gasped from under the twins.
"But we love you, Katie," the twins chorused.
"Fred," Hermione warned from her spot. Fred promptly jumped off of George's back and ran over to the couch Hermione and Ron occupied. He threw himself down between Ron and Hermione, lying flat on his back. He propped his head on the armrest on Hermione's end of the couch, causing his upper body to fall in Hermione's lap. He propped his feet on Ron's armrest. Ron was too exhausted to notice his brother's legs in his lap.
"George?" Katie asked. George faked a loud snore. "George really. This is slightly uncomfortable." Katie tried one more tactic when George still didn't move. "If you lay there much longer, you may injure me and I won't be able to help kick Beauxbatons's arse in the match in February." George instantly rolled to his left, flipping off of Katie and into the floor with a loud thud, narrowly missing Ginny. He never once opened his eyes or let down his sleep charade.
"So how was practice?" Ginny asked, wisely ignoring her older brother.
"Horrible!" Fred moaned.
"Terrible," Angelina agreed.
"Simply the worst," Katie added.
"I'm leading by two now!" Ron cried, semi-joyfully.
"Leading by two?" Colin asked, raising his eyebrow at the fifth year.
"I have four, Fred and George each have two, and Angelina has one," Ron replied.
"Four, two and one what?" Jae questioned. She abandoned her book and rolled over on her back to look at Ron.
"Bloody noses," Ron answered. He smiled down at his sister's friend.
"That's something to brag about?" Jae asked.
"Well, I didn't have a bloody nose, but I certainly did give Malfoy one," Ron supplied. "I crashed a quaffle right into his face!"
"But that's what he gets. Or I suppose what Oliver gets. Somehow I think forcing a keeper to train against three quaffles at once is a little ridiculous," Harry said.
"Three at once?" Ginny gasped.
"Three at once," Hermione supplied. "I've healed Malfoy's face more times than I care to count. He sits there and mutters things about mudbloods while I'm healing him. If he wasn't such a bloody good keeper, I'd put an anticoagulant charm on his nose next time someone breaks it."
"Anticoagulant?" Katie asked.
"He'd bleed out eventually unless he came up with a counter charm," Hermione replied lightly.
"Bleed out?" Alicia questioned.
"Yes. Bleed out. As in all of the blood would leak out of his body and that would be that," Hermione said with an evil grin at the chaser.
"YOU CAN'T BLEED OUT OUR KEEPER!" Alicia screamed.
"Oh, I don't much fancy a trip to Azkaban either," Hermione laughed. "So don't worry, no anticoagulant charms for Malfoy's nose."
"No anticoagulant charms for any part of Malfoy at ALL!" Angelina cried. "He's a git, but he's a bloody good keeper. I don't much fancy going against Beauxbatons without him."
"What about me?" Ron asked.
"You're a bloody good keeper too, but to have an all Gryffindor team would look bad on Hogwarts," Alicia explained.
"And besides. If Malfoy was dead, the team eye-candy would be gone," Angelina muttered.
"Eye-candy?" Ron asked.
"Don't ask," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"I want to know!" Ron insisted.
"He's the only guy on the team worth looking at," Katie provided. George sat up and glared directly at Katie.
"So THAT'S what it takes to make you come alive," Katie laughed. George glared at her.
"You said Malfoy was cute," George pouted.
"No, I said he was the only guy on the team worth looking at. This is simply because I can't tell you from Fred when playing Quidditch, so I don't want to accidentally stare at Fred," Katie supplied.
"And besides, this is entirely subjective. I mean, he's practically Voldemort's heir, he's a prick and he has a rotten attitude. He's just also hotter than hell," Alicia laughed.
"I think you're all sick," Hermione insisted. She leaned over and dropped a kiss on Fred's sweaty forehead. He tossed his arm around her shoulders in reply.
"Fred, you really do smell horrible," Hermione announced.
"Thank you darling," Fred laughed. He pulled his head up and rested it on her shoulder, making sure part of his sweaty hair tickled her nose. Hermione laughed and pushed Fred back to his part of the couch.
"Do it!" a voice shouted from the corner.
"You chose dare!" another voice called. Parts of the group of older students recognized this voice as that of one Sawyer Lewis. Hermione struggled to see over the back of the couch to where the group of first years gathered in the corner of the common room. The youngest children in the house all crowded in the corner in something of a circle. All eleven were looking intensely at the group of older students, or, rather, the back of Hermione, Fred and Ron's couch. Hailey, Karey and Madeline all huddled in a small group in the farthest corner. The three girls kneeled primly on the ground, robes smoothed across their knees and tie's perfectly straight. Carson and Charlie lay to either side of them like a pair of well-trained guard dogs. The three girls looked anxiously at the back of the couch while the two boys couldn't have looked more disinterested if they had been in potions class. Nathan, Evelyn and Gus crowded together nervously next to Charlie. They didn't look as interested as the first five but more nervous at being included in the entire group activity. Sawyer and Jason sat a bit in front of Karey, Madeline and Hailey waving their encouragement to the back of the couch. Hermione glanced over the first years again, realizing Astrid was mysteriously absent. Suddenly, everyone's interest in the back of the couch became clear. A small blonde haired form sprang over the back of the couch, just next to Ron's left ear. She leaned around the fifth year and blindly kissed towards his face before flipping backwards around the couch and running back to her group.
Ron reached up and touched a spot on his face just above his lips, rather next to his nose.
"ARGH!" He exclaimed. "I do believe I just got kissed by a first year!"
"Good thing you snogged Mandy at the Yule Ball then," Fred laughed.
"Yeah," George added. "If your first kiss was a first year, we'd never let you live it down!"
"My first kiss wasn't even Mandy, thank you very much," Ron spat. He still hadn't taken his fingers from his face.
"It WASN'T?" Angelina asked.
"Who was it then?" Katie pressed for an answer. Everyone in the group sitting next to the fire turned to look at the tallest redhead.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Ron asked, smiling mischievously at the group.
"Yes, we would, and that's precisely why we asked you," Alicia laughed.
"So who was it, ickle-Ronnikins?" Fred questioned.
"Your girlfriend," Ron quipped.
"Hermione?" Fred asked, jaw dropped. The chasers dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter, while George and Ginny simply grinned at their brothers. Jae and Colin looked utterly befuddled by the entire situation while Harry rolled his eyes at the entire group.
"No, your other girlfriend," Ron laughed, glaring down at his brother whose legs were still cast across his lap. "Oh, that's right," Ron continued. "You haven't had any others."
"Don't you remember at the very beginning of the year?" Hermione asked. "We kissed in the common room and then instantly screamed about how it felt like kissing our siblings."
"Oh yes, I remember now," Fred laughed. "I'm glad you don't remind ME of my sister." He leaned up and planted a gigantic kiss on her lips.
'Do you think we should either punish the first years or at least break up their little game?" Ron asked. Hermione broke away from her kiss and glared at him sheepishly over Fred's head.
"If you want to you can, but I think at this point that might be a bit hypocritical of me," she said.
"It was only Astrid, Ron. You can't take points from Astrid," Harry muttered.
"Playing favorites, are we?" Head girl Alicia asked. Harry shrugged noncommittally.
"Maybe," he replied.
"You shouldn't play favorites," Alicia scolded. Harry shrugged again.
"It's difficult to discipline your friends, and Astrid is definitely a friend even though she's only 11," Harry attempted to explain. Alicia shrugged at the seeker.
"So I should take points," Alicia said.
"Or you could just break up their game," Angelina suggested. Alicia nodded.
"Quidditch practice has really fried my brain. That does seem like the most reasonable suggestion," she agreed. She rolled over and looked at the ceiling, contemplating standing.
"Come on, Alicia, it's really not that hard. Just go yell at the first years," Katie urged.
"Ron, you're a prefect. Tell them it's lights out time," Alicia instructed from the floor. She still hadn't managed to stand up or move much at all. Ron glared at Alicia before turning to glare at the first years over his shoulder.
"Kids, go to your dorm rooms now," he instructed, rather louder than necessary. The eleven students split and hightailed to their rooms. When Ron looked again, Jason, Sawyer and Astrid still sat in the corner. The pair of boys huddled around their friend, partially obscuring Ron's view.
"What part of go to your rooms didn't you all understand?" Ron asked. Jason and Sawyer looked over at him with particularly terrified looks on their faces. Quickly enough, they broke away from Astrid and ran for the stairs. Astrid remained seated, hands clamped around her ankle.
"Could you come here for just a minute?" the first year requested before Ron could say anything to her.
"Astrid, really, I don't much feel like moving," Ron replied.
"Harry, if you summon me," Astrid began, before Harry had a chance to move. "I'll."
"You'll do what?" Harry asked with a maniac laugh.
"Seriously, one of you please come here," Astrid requested, sounding a lot more calm and a bit more helpless than she had before.
"Why don't you come here?" Harry whined.
"I twisted my ankle running back over here after that last dare," Astrid explained. "I don't want to walk over there because my ankle hurts."
"Well we don't fell like moving! Quidditch practice was rotten!" Ron exclaimed.
"Hold on Astrid, I'll be there," Hermione said. She dumped Fred off of her lap and sprang to her feet, narrowly missing stepping on Fred's head. She stomped around the couch and over to where Astrid sat.
"What's up?" she asked, sinking to the floor next to the little girl. Astrid had both hands clamped around her left ankle.
"I twisted my ankle and it really hurts," Astrid said, looking up at Hermione through eerie silver-grey eyes. Hermione reached for Astrid's hands.
"How about I have a look at it?" Hermione asked, reaching for the girl's hands. Astrid willingly let her hands drop away from her ankle. Hermione propped Astrid's thin ankle up in her own lap and looked it over.
"It doesn't look swollen or anything," she said.
"It hurts really really badly," Astrid insisted. Hermione began running her right index and middle fingers all over Astrid's foot to try to feel anything out of place. Her fingers fell on a spot just above the anklebone on the inside of Astrid's leg.
"Bloody hell!" Hermione shrieked.
"What's the problem?" Astrid asked innocently.
"Your ankle is so hot that it probably should be melting," Hermione replied. She held out her fingers to Astrid. The tips of both fingers were dark pink in color from touching the girl's ankle.
"It's not melting is it?" Astrid asked, raising an eyebrow at Hermione.
"Not melting, but probably fully ready to combust," Hermione replied.
"This is the worst it's been in a while," Astrid admitted, leaning back against the wall.
"I can understand that. We should take you to Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said.
"I'd really rather not go. You're the trainer for the Quidditch team. If you can heal my brother's face then you can heal my ankle, right? Astrid asked.
"Do you think a cooling spell would help?" Hermione asked.
"Probably. I think that's about all Madame Pomfrey could do," Astrid replied.
"Alright, I'll cool it and then get Ron to carry you up to your room, how does that sound?" Hermione questioned.
"Sounds fine by me," Astrid replied. Hermione pulled her wand out and pointed it at the hottest point on Astrid's ankle. She muttered a spell and instantly Astrid's ankle cooled off.
"Thanks Hermione," Astrid said.
"No problem," Hermione replied. "Hey Ron, come here!" The youngest Weasley boy stumbled to his feet and trudged over to where Hermione and Astrid sat. The three chasers, Ginny and Jae excused themselves to their rooms for the night, Ginny and Jae citing girl talk as a reason, while the chasers went with Katie's "I'm the stinky kid in school and no one likes the stinky kid."
"Could you carry me upstairs?" Astrid asked. "My ankle hurts and I don't think I can walk by myself." Hermione shot Ron an imploring look that commanded him to comply with the little girls request.
"Sure thing chica," Ron replied. He reached down and scooped up the tiny first year into his arms. "You know, this is going to be really hard if you ever decide to grow."
"Don't worry, I don't much think I'll get bigger than this," Astrid laughed. Ron began ascending the stairs to the girls' dorm. About halfway up, the pair heard a grinding noise. The source sounded like it was deep within the stairs. Before either had time to react, the stairs flattened into a stone slide. Ron struggled to run up the slide, but ultimately Astrid's added weight caused them both to catapult backwards down the stairs.
"Bloody hell!" Ron cried. He had landed flat on his back with Astrid's legs pinned under his upper body.
"Get off my hurt ankle, you great dolt!" Astrid squealed. Ron struggled to roll over and away from the little girl.
"Thank you," Astrid mumbled, hands returning protectively to her ankle.
"Who did this?" Hermione asked, turning to face the boys crowded around the fire.
"Not us!" Freed and George chorused. Before they could say anything else, their fiery-red hair morphed into a loud shade of neon green.
"It was you!" Hermione insisted, instantly remembering her Christmas gift from Bill. "Your brother charmed your hair to turn green if you lied about your relative guilt or innocent."
"And you two should take a look in a mirror," Colin giggled.
"Shove it, Creevey," George spat.
"So how did you make the stairs do that? Must say it's a pretty impressive piece of magic!" Hermione said, looking back at the stairs. They were still full in slide form.
"We didn't," Fred said. "We were on our way up to see you and Katie and we accidentally invoked a piece of magic that's been there for who knows how long," Fred looked up at his girlfriend through stormy blue eyes. "Forgive me?"
"I suppose," Hermione laughed. "But how, pray tell, do I get up to my room?" she put her hand on her hip and looked down at her boyfriend and his twin brother. The twins exchanged a particularly nervous glance.
"Well you see, the last time the stairs changed there wasn't as much of a problem when they switched back at dawn," George half said, half coughed. Hermione turned an alarming shade of deep purple.
"DAWN!" she screeched.
"Yes, something like that," Fred admitted. His smile remained plastered on his face as he looked at his girlfriend through eyes pleading for forgiveness.
"We get to have a slumber party!" Astrid squealed. She still sat against the wall at the bottom of the steps turned slide.
"Yeah, it looks like it's me and you, kid," Hermione laughed, glancing over her shoulder at the first year.
"Now that that's settled, we're off to shower!" Fred exclaimed. He jumped to his feet, dropped a kiss on Hermione's lips and tore up the stairs before she could say anything. George shrugged at Hermione before running off after his brother.
"I need sleep. Potions homework first thing in the morning and all," Colin said. He stood up, closed his book and stretched broadly. "Night all." He waved at the three fifth years and Astrid as he walked up the stairs towards his dorm.
"Why don't you guys come to our slumber party too?" Astrid asked, looking from Harry to Ron then to Hermione. Ron shrugged.
"I guess we could," Harry replied, glancing over at Ron.
"I'm the smelly kid in school right now though, be back in a bit." Ron jumped to his feet and rushed the stairs. Harry shrugged at the two girls and chased after him. A good two minutes later, the portrait hole opened and closed as an invisible Harry crept out.
*****
"Popcorn!" Harry exclaimed. He sank onto the couch next to Astrid holding a large bowl on his lap. He grabbed a handful of the fluffy white pieces and popped them into his mouth before passing the bowl onto Astrid. Ron lounged on the floor in front of the fire flat on his back. He had his hands folded on top of the pillow underneath his head and he stared at the ceiling. Hermione curled in her favorite armchair with a large book. Harry pushed a few wisps of his wet hair back off of his forehead.
"So what do you do at a slumber party?" he asked, reaching for another handful of popcorn.
"Talk about girl stuff and giggle a lot," Astrid replied with a tone that clearly said she was not in the mood for giggling. She looked up from the piece of parchment she was scribbling on and glared at Harry.
"Whatcha writing, chica?" Ron asked, looking over at Astrid.
"A letter," Astrid replied, no sound of emotion in her voice.
"To who?" Ron asked.
"Whom Ron, whom," Hermione scolded, without looking up from her book.
"Draco," Astrid shrugged the word off as if it was nothing.
"What are you writing a letter to him for?" Ron practically shouted.
"He is my brother, Ron," Astrid replied. Her left hand still moved furiously across the parchment.
"He's never been nice to you before though," Ron countered.
"Things change. Christmas this year was quite interesting." Astrid's hand stopped and she glanced over the parchment, blowing momentarily on the word at the bottom before folding the parchment. "Now could you tell me if he went towards the Hufflepuff or Slytherin common room after Quidditch practice. I need to know where to send this owl."
"Hufflepuff?" Ron asked.
"He's doing some extra work for one of his classes and Dumbledore has provided him a separate workspace rather in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room," Astrid explained.
"Actually, I'm not sure exactly which way he went," Harry said. "Sanguinis asked him to stay after for a bit, so we left them both down at the field." Astrid shrugged and glanced over at Ron.
"Can I borrow your owl?" she asked.
"To send to Malfoy?" Ron asked. "I think not."
"Malfoy would murder Pig," Hermione said. She whistled sharply and Sebastian appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the girls' dorm. "You can use Sebastian."
"That owl looks like Adonis," Astrid said as Sebastian came to a graceful rest on Hermione's shoulder.
"Adonis?" Hermione and Harry chorused. Astrid shrugged.
"Draco's owl. He named it when he was 10," she laughed.
"Very typically Malfoy," Hermione muttered, shaking her head.
"So what changed over Christmas?" Ron asked as Hermione attached Astrid's letter to Sebastian's leg.
"Well, Finley died. I guess you all heard about that," Astrid began.
"We did," Hermione cut in.
"I really shouldn't be telling you this, I mean, none of you are exactly first in the potential best friend for Draco Malfoy line," Astrid said, staring off into the fire.
"Astrid, I, more than just about anyone, understand that family is the only thing stronger than a head lock," Ron began.
"And if part of yours has started to be less of a bastard, then we don't mind hearing about it and certainly won't hold it against him," Harry finished.
"Although I wouldn't mind putting him in a headlock," Ron muttered. Astrid glared reproachfully at her older friend.
"So Finley died. As you could tell, Draco had to read at her funeral," Astrid began her story again. She took a deep breath before plowing onward. "Keiran made a couple of nasty comments about the whole matter and Lucius has a general no emotion policy. All of that built up and paired with the fact that Finley's murder happened on what should have been Barrett's eighth birthday threw Draco for a proverbial emotional loop."
"And this affects his attitude towards you how?" Ron queried.
"I think the idea of losing Finley on Barrett's birthday made him want to spend time with the sisters he has left or something," Astrid replied. "He actually came in Emma's room on Christmas morning and opened presents with us," the tiny girl drew her pajama covered knees towards her chest and looked at her friends.
"I take it he was close to Barrett?" Hermione assumed. She had abandoned her book in favor of listening to Astrid's story.
"Does Draco seem like the type of person who would take orders from anyone?" Astrid asked. Ron shook his head while Harry shrugged and popped more popcorn in his mouth at the same time.
"No," Hermione answered for the trio.
"Well, Barrett had Draco twisted around her little finger so tightly that I'm fully surprised he could breathe. Draco and Little Bear were inseparable. He was her hero and in turn, he adored her."
"Doesn't seem very Malfoyish to me," came Ron's off-handed comment.
"Draco's not always been a complete prick," Astrid countered. Ron snorted and laughed and rolled over on his stomach. He rested his elbows on the floor and his chin on his hands.
"What changed him?" Ron challenged, blue eyes flashing.
"Something about being forced to watch his baby sister murdered on the night of his 11th birthday would have a tendency to do that to a person, don't you think?" Astrid raised an eyebrow at Ron and gulped down the sob crawling up her throat. Ron's face went ashen, freckles standing out brightly. Harry's green eyes flashed over to the girl. Hermione ran her fingers through her already frazzled hair.
"He had to watch?" Harry asked quietly.
"What were the circumstances surrounding the murder?" Hermione questioned at the same time. Astrid swallowed hard and hugged her knees tighter. She took a deep albeit shaky breath before beginning her story.
&&&&&
"Thank you, Lucius, for bringing your son into my service," Voldemort's hissing voice slid smoothly from the mouth in the back of Quirrell's head. Draco looked from his father to the man with the cat-like red eyes and no nose standing in front of them both.
"I willingly bring him in hopes he will make a suitable heir to help restore you to the power you deserve." Lucius's speech sounded recited. He dropped to one knee and brushed a kiss across Quirrell's knuckles.
"Shall we begin the initiation ceremony then?" Voldemort hissed.
"As you wish, my lord," Lucius replied, returning to his feet. He turned to Draco and placed his hand on the boys shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Yes father," Draco lied. He tried to stand up straighter and adjusted his dress robes so they fell straight.
"Very good, boy," Voldemort said. Quirrell rolled the sleeve of his robe and pressed a finger to part of the elaborate dark mark burnt into his skin. The lowest extremity of he mark burned dark black. Lucius winced and grabbed his own arm. Moments later, five pops sounded and five more people stood in the dungeon where Quirrell, Lucius and Draco all stood.
"What's going on?" One of the men asked.
"I felt the mark burn," came another voice. Quirrell turned so the five men could see Voldemort's face.
"Yes men, you did feel my call. As members of my inner circle, the six of you have been asked here to assist in installing young Master Malfoy as my heir," Voldemort hissed. The Death Eaters didn't question their leader. Instead, they moved to form a circle around Draco. Voldemort/Quirrell stood with Voldemort's face towards Draco. Lucius stood directly behind Draco, also facing Voldemort.
"Draco Argentum Lucentio Malfoy," Voldemort began. Draco looked quite unsure of whether to correct the dark Lord. He decided against it. Lucius spoke.
"Narcissa decided that was too much name for a baby," Lucius said. "She named him Draco Cullen Malfoy instead." Draco cringed involuntarily when his father corrected Voldemort.
"You allowed her?" Voldemort asked.
"I wasn't present for his birth so he had been named before I could do anything about it," Lucius explained.
"Very well then," Voldemort replied. He looked down at Draco again. Draco attempted not to cower in the Dark Lord's gaze.
"Draco Cullen Malfoy," Voldemort began again. His gaze on the boy hardened. "Has your father fully explained what will be asked of you, my heir?"
"Yes my lord," Draco's words came just as Lucius had instructed him. Quirrell turned to face Draco. He held out his hand to the eleven-year-old.
"Come here, boy," Voldemort's voice issued from the back of Quirrell's head. Draco felt compelled to close the space between himself and his future professor. He stood completely motionless before the man. Quirrell placed his palm on Draco's forehead, spreading his fingers along the boy's carefully gelled hair. Quirrell closed his eyes and almost instantly Draco felt as though a herd of Cornish Pixies was running amok in his brain. Visions of himself and his siblings poured forth. A tiny girl with curly hair and unusually large, abnormally brown eyes dominated most. Malfoy's didn't have brown eyes. At least, that had been Lucius's only comment at the first wide-eyed look he'd received from his youngest daughter and only brown-eyed child.
Quirrell pulled his hand away form Draco's forehead and stepped back from the boy.
"You lie," Voldemort hissed. Quirrell pointed an accusing finger at the boy. Draco carefully schooled his features into perfect passivity. Voldemort continued.
"You can only be willing to die for one master and I'm not the only one. Pity though, you would have made a fantastic heir. You're a truly powerful wizard and you already have a great understanding of pureblood superiority." Draco remained silent as Voldemort proceeded with his rambling. "I guess I should eliminate my competition so eventually you'll be a faithful death Eater." With that, Voldemort disapparated. A single thought ripped through Draco's head.
"BARRETT!" Draco turned on his heel and tore from the room, hoping he could make it to the nursery before Quirrell/Voldemort but at the same time, knowing he wouldn't. He jumped into a secret passage next to his piano room and ran as hard as he could towards the other end. Gasping for breath and mentally berating himself for being so slow, he tripped into the hallway next to his mother's study. Immediately, he jumped into another passageway leading towards the girls' nursery.
"Barrett." The name became a silent mantra as Draco raced along the passageway. He didn't know what he would do, other than save his baby sister. He jumped through the tapestry at the other end of the painting and tore towards the last door on the left side of the hall. He spun into the room to see his baby sister, favorite toy doll clutched in her arms, seated in the middle of the floor staring wide-eyed at a wormy looking figure in the corner.
"Barrett!" Draco shouted, diving for the three-year-old. Her little head snapped towards him.
"Dra-" the rest of the word never escaped her thin pink lips.
"Avada Kedavara," Quirrell muttered almost carelessly. The green light hit the girl just before Draco reached her. Draco fell to his knees next to the lifeless form of his baby sister. He gathered her tiny body into his arms and tried to avoid looking at the wide, no longer sparkling, unusual brown eyes. He rocked her back and forth and attempted to blink back the tears threatening to spill from his own silver-grey eyes.
"DRACO!" the harsh bark of his father's voice issued form the doorway.
"He killed her," Draco said evenly. He didn't take his eyes off the man in front of him. Two tears finally spilled down his porcelain cheeks and splashed into Barrett's white-blonde curls.
"Yes," Voldemort hissed. Quirrell twirled his wand and pointed it at Draco. "You are weaker than I originally suspected. You'll never do as a Death Eater. Ava-"
"Wait!" Lucius barked from the door.
"Yes?" Voldemort asked, stopping mid curse and turning to look at Lucius.
"I have another son. If you find him a suitable heir, will you spare Draco?"
"Why?" Voldemort asked.
"Because he is powerful and I believe with a year, I will be able to reform him to the point that he will be a suitable servant by the time he is 18," Lucius bargained.
"Let us go to your other son," Voldemort hissed. "And for interrupting, Crucio." Lucius crumpled to the floor in the throes of the curse. Quirrell walked purposefully out of the room. The five still- standing Death Eaters followed him. Suddenly the curse lifted from Lucius and the man stumbled to his feet and headed after his associates. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to his son. Despite his weakened state, the force that his black, steel toed, dragon hide boots connected with Draco's side was enough to sling the boy into the cold stone wall of Barrett's nursery.
&&&&&
"So that's pretty much how it went," Astrid explained. Hermione brushed a tear from her left eye. Ron looked at Astrid, open-mouthed and speechless. Harry scratched his head with one hand and scooped up more popcorn with the other.
"Wouldn't an experience like that cause someone to turn farther from whatever?" the popcorn paused halfway between the bowl and Harry's mouth.
"Oh, I don't know," Astrid shrugged. "Lucius's cane and wand are pretty powerful methods of persuasion."
"He beat Malfoy?" Hermione asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"We didn't see him for a full two weeks after his eleventh birthday," Astrid said. "When he finally came out of his room, he emerged as the heartless bastard he's been ever since. He would hardly speak to me and Emma but spent a lot of time in father's library with Keiran."
"So do you think he's chanced for good?" Ron queried. "I mean this time." Astrid shrugged, reaching for a bit of Harry's popcorn.
"Luicus has been indoctrinating him since he was born. I seriously doubt anyone but me or Emma will realize he may be changing at all," Astrid popped the popcorn in her mouth.
"The offer for the headlock still stands," Ron mumbled. His opinion of Malfoy hadn't changed at all.
"So wait, what about Keiran?" Harry asked, flinging a bit of popcorn at Ron.
"He took Draco's place as Voldemort's heir," Astrid replied, almost nonchalantly. "He's been evil ever since he accidentally hung our cat when he was three and decided it was more funny than sad. Voldemort found him perfectly acceptable." Ron snorted back a laugh.
"Voldemort has a heir?" Hermione asked, tugging nervously at a strand of her frizzy hair. Astrid nodded solemnly.
"Yes. None other than my own twin brother." Astrid paused for a moment. "And before your sixth Gryffindor sense of all that is good and noble kicks in, yes, Dumbledore knows. Does this explain my insistence on being in Gryffindor?"
"Perfectly," Hermione and Ron agreed.
"Good then, I'm going to sleep," Astrid announced. She promptly rested her head on the armrest and tucked her feet under Harry's leg. She closed her eyes and folded her hands under her cheek. Hermione picked up her book and resumed reading. Ron stared off into the fire. Harry began a careful examination of each individual kernel of popcorn before placing them in his mouth.
"Astrid?" Harry asked, after quite a bit of silence. The little girl didn't respond.
"She's asleep," Ron replied, looking over at the first year. Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered a quick spell in Astrid's direction. Both of the boys looked at her, quizzical looks on their faces.
"She won't be able to hear us if we're getting ready to talk about what I think we're getting ready to talk about, but it only tunes out conversation about Keiran and such" Hermione explained.
"What are we getting ready to talk about?" Ron joked. Harry and Hermione both glared at him.
"I thought you had to be a Malfoy to do that right," Ron muttered.
"Astrid taught us," Harry spat.
"So what do you guys think of this news about Keiran?" Hermione asked.
"It certainly explains my dreams," Harry replied through a mouthful of popcorn.
"Shouldn't that be empty by now?" Ron asked, eyeing the blue bowl perched in Harry's lap.
"Dobby charmed it," Harry offered by way of explanation. Ron nodded and dropped his face back into his pillow.
"Attention to the subject at hand please boys," Hermione insisted.
"Yes McGonagall," Ron muttered.
"So it explains my dreams," Harry continued, "And I guess I trust Dumbledore, although I do question the logic of letting Voldemort's heir into school."
"Why does he even need a heir?" Ron asked. "That shoots the immortality theory to shit."
"Do you remember the tests I did?" Hermione asked.
"The one's where Harry blew up the magic meter?" Ron questioned.
"Yes," Hermione replied. She turned on her side and rested her head on the armrest. She kicked her feet over the other armrest and stared at the ceiling.
"Do those results have anything to do with Voldemort's heir?" Harry guessed.
"I don't know," Hermione began.
"But you have a theory so go ahead and spill it," Ron joked. Hermione glared at him from her perch in the chair before continuing with her theory.
"So there are innate magical capacities imbued in siblings," Hermione began.
"WOAH!" Ron shouted.
"What?" Hermione asked. Ron rolled over onto his back and looked up at his friend.
"Cough up that dictionary you ate for breakfast and speak real English here," Ron instructed. Hermione shot a withering glance at Ron before rephrasing her sentence.
"Brothers and sisters are more powerful when they're close to each other. It stands to reason that you-know-who draws power from Keiran. Little Malfoy must have gone through some spells and rites and such that make him more directly tied to you-know-who than even his own twin," Hermione explained.
"It does," Harry agreed. "But why would the most powerful wizard this side of Dumbledore need to draw power from an eleven year old boy?"
"Good point," Hermione said.
"So Keiran is You-Know-Who's heir. Suppose You-Know-Who is drawing power from Keiran. Does that mean he's indirectly drawing from Astrid too?" Ron questioned.
"Why?" Harry asked.
"They ARE twins, and Fred and George have more of a tie to each other than they do to any of us, or that any of us do to each other," Ron explained. He ran his fingers through his red hair, making it stand wildly on end.
"It does stand to reason," Hermione agreed. She chewed nervously on her bottom lip.
"So what if the Malfoy twins are telepathic and Keiran is sucking information about Harry from Astrid without Astrid realizing it?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged and turned his popcorn bowl upside down.
"It's empty," he announced.
"Harry man, be serious! We're talking about your future here!" Ron cried.
"What's there to talk about?" Harry shrugged. " I've fought the bad man four times already. I'll inevitably have to face him a fifth time and when I do one of us will win. The other will very likely end up dead. It's just the way things work." Harry explained his possible death as simply as Flitwick would explain a levitating charm.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped.
"What?" Harry asked, turning innocently jaded green eyes on his best friend. "You have to admit that I'm probably right about it. I've come to accept it, you should too."
"Harry," Hermione said again.
"I've been lucky four times," Harry said. "If my luck holds out for a fifth try, then so be it, we win. If not. Well. Life goes on, right?"
"HARRY!" Hermione's statement came a third time.
"All I'm saying is you need to be prepared, but don't let it worry you," Harry continued.
"How could it not worry us?" Ron asked. "Especially now that we've got You-Know-Who junior's twin living in our midst!"
"We've just got to get prepared. Hopefully when chance number five comes, I'll be able to rely more on skill and less on luck," Harry said. He looked at the empty popcorn bowl again, before meeting the serious gazes of his two best friends.
"I'll go to the library," Hermione offered.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Harry laughed.
"Did you expect her to offer anything different?" Ron muttered.
"No really," Harry said. "I've come up with an idea that could very well help us all when that day comes."
"What is it?" Hermione looked positively elated at the prospect of research.
"I think it's time we take a page out of the Marauder's book," Harry began to explain.
"Kill Snape?" Ron brightened at that thought.
"Not quite," Harry replied. "I was thinking more along the lines of the Marauders greatest bit of mischief ever."
"I thought that was the attempted murder bit," Ron joked.
"Not quite," Harry spat.
"Animagi!" Hermione cried.
"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!" Harry hissed. "But yes, Hermione's on the right page."
"Shouldn't we go to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Harry replied. He looked directly at the girl. "And have to have ourselves bloody registered. Then we can send Voldemort an express owl saying by the way, the light has three new weapons in their arsenal."
"Four," muttered a sleepy voice from the end of the couch. Three heads snapped directly to Astrid.
"You think I'm letting you get away with that and not letting me in on it? I think not! I shall tell every professor I know what the three of you are up to," Astrid said, pulling herself into a sitting position on her end of the couch.
"When did you wake up?" Ron asked suspiciously.
"When Hermione started squealing like a banshee," Astrid explained. Hermione shot the boys looks that assured them Astrid had heard nothing of the previous conversations.
"Okay, so I see the point of being illegal animagi, but can't we get like Azkaban time if we're found out?" Hermione asked.
"By the time we're found out, I'm fairly certain we'll be in the midst of an all out-war. Little things like that tend to get overlooked in wartime so they'll probably just register us," Astrid yawned.
"The girl has a point," Ron said, nodding at Astrid. Astrid smirked at the fifth year.
"Of course I do. I'm a Malfoy. Our family's motto is 'it's only illegal when you get caught.' Some have shortened it to simply 'don't get caught'," she shrugged at her friends.
"So will you research it for us?" Harry asked, looking hopefully at Hermione. Hermione considered her options for a moment.
"Certainly," she replied quietly. Astrid pulled out her wand a muttered a spell. A moment later she caught a thin white card in her hand a flipped it to Hermione.
"You may need this," she said. Hermione looked down at the card in her hand. The label on it said "Restricted Section Access. Year Pass." Professor Binns signature graced the bottom of the pass.
"How did you get this?" Hermione asked, turning the card over and over in her hand to assure that it was official.
"Jason, Sawyer and I all have them. I transfigured them to look like permission slips that he needed to sign so we could miss class one day. When I turned them back, his signature stayed, we got out of class and now we've got restricted section access," Astrid explained. "He never figured it out."
"Why?" Hermione asked, slipping the card into her pocket.
"Mainly to see if I could," Astrid shrugged. Hermione shook her head in disbelief at the first year.
"And I see the sixth Gryffindor sense kicking in again. If you tell on me about the library pass, I shall rat out your Animagi project," Astrid smiled.
"That's blackmail!" Ron screeched.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Astrid asked with her brother's smirk plastered on her face.
"You really are a Malfoy," Harry shook her head at the first year.
"And you've rendered the three of us completely ineffective as prefects," Hermione muttered.
"Oh don't worry," Astrid said. "I'm not that evil. You three are still my friends, so I don't expect to get by with everything. That would make people ask questions. Immunity on most things would be nice though."
"We don't have much choice now do we?" Ron asked, glaring at the first year.
"I suppose you don't," Astrid laughed.
"You let her by with everything anyway," Harry said, glaring at the taller boy in the floor. Ron shrugged and tried to smooth down his hair.
"I don't want to turn into Percy," came his only explanation.
"If you three are fully through your devious plotting for the night, I think we should probably sleep," Astrid suggested.
"You're right," Hermione agreed. The boys shrugged. Hermione slid to the floor and stretched out perpendicular to Ron. Astrid slid back down and curled up into her corner of the couch. Harry slid into the other. He only took up half of the couch, with his knees pulled fully up to his chin.
"That can't be comfortable," Hermione said when she noticed Harry.
"I lived in a broom closet for well over two thirds of my life. This is perfectly comfortable," Harry replied. He pulled his glasses off and placed them in the floor next to him. Hermione turned to glance at Ron, but the red head had already closed his eyes and was fast on his way to sleeping. She turned back to Harry only to find that he, too, had closed his eyes. She put a dimming spell on the light of the fire and lay perfectly still. Eventually she heard two different patterns of even breathing coming from Harry and Astrid's couch and light snores coming from Ron's direction. She quietly pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at her hand. A muttered spell later and she held a tiny blue fire in the palm of her hand. She held it out in front of her like a torch and crept towards Harry and Astrid's couch. Harry still rested perfectly in the fetal position on his end. Astrid had kicked her right leg up to rest on Harry's feet. Her left foot crossed onto her right knee in what had to be the most uncomfortable sleeping position Hermione thought she had ever seen. The girl's lower body lay evenly on the couch while her upper body was turned to her left side. Both of her hands were clutched under her head. She didn't seem fazed at all by the contortion of her body.
"Perfect," Hermione muttered. While Astrid's back would probably hurt in the morning, her position couldn't be any more perfect for what Hermione was getting ready to do. The older witch pointed her wand directly at the girls left ankle. The inside, specifically where the hotspot had been earlier, slid into view as Hermione used her wand to nudge the bottom of the girls robe a few inches out of the way.
"Finite incantatem," Hermione muttered. Slowly the pale peachish pink of Astrid's skin faded away to reveal a series of dark black marks. Hermione looked closer at the marks and realized they formed a tattoo of sorts. An ornately filigreed sword pointed directly towards Astrid's heel. The blade displayed the words Ab Caedis, Divinitas. The handle of the blade was decorated with a crown of roses. Hermione cast another quick spell and the sword was coated in a thick black residue.
"Thank Merlin for Lavender, Parvati and their makeup spells," Hermione thought as she directed the layer of mascara off of Astrid's leg and over to a piece of scrap parchment. She made the mascara land on the parchment and then muttered a few quick spells to clean up Astrid's leg and re-conceal the tattoo. The readjusted the girls robe and moved back over to her spot in the floor below her chair. Placing the tiny blue flames on her shoulder, she picked up the piece of parchment and looked at it. She quickly summoned her journal from its hiding spot in the room and opened the book. She flipped to an empty page and pressed the tattoo imprint to it. After a few spells to make the mascara permanent, she pulled the first parchment away from the book page. All traces of the tattoo had transferred to Hermione's journal.
"Go to sleep! The books will still be there in the morning!" Harry hissed. Hermione jumped, quite startled by his interruption. She quickly hissed at the fire on her shoulder to go out and curled up in the floor right against her chair.
"Goodnight Harry," she whispered.
"Night 'Mione," he mumbled.
*****
"So why were you creeping about after you were supposed to be asleep last night?" Harry hissed to Hermione just before Defense the next morning. It was the first time the friends had been able to talk, Astrid-free, since the night before. Hermione pulled her journal out of her bag and held both covers. This action activated the charms and allowed the book to fall open in her hands. She leafed through the pages until she came to the mascara made imprint of what she found on Astrid's leg. She tilted the book towards Harry so he could see.
"Don't touch," she reminded him, "It'll snap closed."
"What is that?" he questioned, looking at the flower-crowned sword.
"I found it," Hermione began.
"Good Morning Class!" Dumbledore cut Hermione off mid sentence. Hermione shrugged. Harry tapped a finger lightly against the cover of the book. It slammed shut and Hermione slipped the thin volume back into her bag.
"Today we will begin our study of magical iconography as it relates to the Dark Arts," Dumbledore announced. He adjusted the sleeves of his sun covered royal blue robe around his bony wrists before he continued. "You will continue with a study of magical iconography through time this afternoon in History of Magic." Lavender tentatively raised her hand.
"Yes Miss Brown?"
"If you would please sir, stop speaking Hermione and define iconography for the rest of us," Lavender instructed. Dumbledore chuckled lightly s Hermione turned a shade of red more typically found on Ron's face.
"Iconography, more simply defined, is the group of symbols used to represent objects or ideas typical to a particular culture or group of people," Dumbledore explained. He removed his hat from his head and hung it on the back of his chair, smoothing his fluffy white hair with bony fingers.
"So how does that relate to this class?" Parvati queried.
"Wait!" Harry finally clued into Dumbledore's subject matter for the class. 'You mean magical iconography as in the Dark Mark!"
"Exactly," Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping his hands together twice.
"What is there to know about the Dark Mark? I thought it was a skull with a snake for the tongue and that was it," Dean said. He tucked a stray dread lock behind his left ear and looked at Dumbledore through innocent chocolate eyes.
"Simply a skull with a snake for the tongue?" Dumbledore echoed. He pointed a long finger at the board. An exact replica of the figure Dean described appeared on the board.
"So what would your reaction to seeing this mark be?" Dumbledore asked.
"Where?" Neville replied.
"Floating in the air above your house," Dumbledore offered with only a moment's consideration.
"HOLY SH-COOKIE DOUGH!" Seamus cried.
"Or something to that effect," Dean muttered.
"Cookie dough?" Parvati and Lavender chorused.
"Well he couldn't exactly say what he really thought now could he?" Dean asked, looking at the girls.
"Holy cookie dough is quite a fine expletive," Dumbledore said, nodding at Seamus. "Now what would your reaction be if you saw the mark on the arm of a person?"
"I'm sticking with the cookie dough," Seamus laughed. Dean, Neville, Parvati and Lavender nodded in agreement. Harry shook his head in opposition to their remark, while Ron and Hermione simply looked at him.
"It would depend on the situation," Harry offered.
"And on the person wearing the dark mark," Ron added.
"And the number of people wearing the dark mark versus the number of people not wearing the dark mark," Hermione said.
"And the amount of danger my actions would put those around me in," came Harry's next comment.
"Say you outnumbered the death eaters, they were all bad death eaters, and they weren't out to kill, just harm," Dumbledore came up with a hypothetical situation.
"Grabbing Hermione's cousin and beating the sh-cookie dough out of the nearest one worked rather well," Ron said with a goofy grin on his face.
"Wait, did you beat the Death Eater with her cousin?" Neville asked.
"Isn't this hypothetical?" Lavender queried.
"Now who is talking Hermione?" Dean flashed a grin at Lavender. Lavender glared at the boy.
"The tree thing worked rather well, until he apparated," Hermione muttered. Dumbledore raised his hand, commanding silence from the class. Instantly all eight heads turned to look at him,
"It seems as though Hermione, Harry and Ron have the true measure of what it takes to be a Gryffindor," Dumbledore said.
"Would you expect anything else from the three musketeers?" Seamus muttered. Ron and Hermione glared at him, but Harry was fully relieved that he didn't make any comments about the boy who lived.
"I would listen to them if I were you," Neville bravely spoke up, looking at his four remaining classmates. "They've lived what we've only heard about."
"Neville, it's really not that big of a deal," Ron insisted, blushing a deep crimson. "I mean, we only fought in one attack and that one was a distraction to keep the people that count away from the real deal."
"Don't discredit what you did over Christmas, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said, smiling benevolently down at the boy. "There is a Death Eater in Azkaban now thanks to you and Mr. Granger."
"Great," Ron muttered. "Simply one more thing I have to worry about. If they ever pull a Sirius, there will be an angry Death Eater after me."
"Oh it's not so bad," Harry loftily joked. Dumbledore raised his hand for silence again. Then he pointed towards the figure on the board. The handle of a sword slowly grew from the top of the skull.
"What would you have if you saw that?" Dumbledore asked. The class remained silent. Hermione's hand even remained in her lap.
"FINALLY!" Seamus screeched. Everyone looked at him quizzically. "Hermione doesn't know the answer," he muttered sheepishly. The rest of the class and even Dumbledore laughed appreciatively.
"Does anyone have a guess?" Dumbledore questioned after the laughter subsided. Hermione tentatively raised her hand to just about her shoulder.
"Figures," Seamus muttered to the top of his table.
"Yes Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked.
"Would it be a different level of Death Eater? Like the army has different levels of soldiers and such?" Hermione guessed. She sounded quite apprehensive about her answer, and as soon as the guess passed through her lips, she caught her bottom lip in her teeth.
"Exactly!" Dumbledore said, casting another benevolent smile at the girl.
"So wait," Lavender paused, gathering her thoughts. "You mean some Death Eaters are worse than the others?"
"Does anyone have an answer for that?" Dumbledore looked to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry and Hermione looked absolutely stumped, but the thoughts running through Ron's head were practically visible.
"It's sort of like this Lavender," he began. "Think back to when you were like seven." Lavender nodded at the red head. "Now imagine Harry and me as Dark Wizards, just so I don't have to, you know, mention any names or anything."
"Get to your point Ron," Hermione said, tapping the redhead lightly on his arm.
"So when you were seven, and supposing we were out to get you, would you have rather met me or Harry somewhere without your parents?" Ron finally finished his analogy.
"Part of me says you, because I don't know you and I'd always heard stories about Harry, but the other part says Harry because I had heard of him," Lavender replied. "But the thought of you or Harry as Dark Wizards is preposterous."
"Hermione," Dean coughed. Lavender glared at him.
"Would you rather meet Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy?" Harry questioned. Every set of eyes in the room widened at Harry's use of Voldemort's name.
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the object itself," Harry and Dumbledore recited at the exact same time.
"Malfoy," Neville squeaked.
"Definitely Malfoy," Parvati agreed.
"And would you rather meet Lucius Malfoy or Goyle's father?" Harry questioned.
"Goyle's father!" Dean and Seamus chorused.
"So, supposing Lucius Malfoy and Goyle's father are death eaters, it stands to reason that Malfoy has one of those Dark Marks, while Goyle's looks more like the first," Harry explained.
"I tried," Ron shrugged.
"Perfect," Dumbledore said. "10 points to Gryffindor."
"I of course am not implying that Lucius Malfoy or Goyle's father are death eaters," Harry quickly added. The amount of snorts and eye rolls that passed over the class was enough to let Harry quickly know that everyone suspected anyway. Dumbledore pointed at the figure again and again the figure morphed. This time, a crown of flowers appeared around the handle of the sword.
"What about this one?" Dumbledore asked. "As the last one, we think, is the mark of those Death Eaters in Voldemort's inner ring." Hermione's jaw dropped, her eyes widened, and she punched Harry in his knee twice. His hands immediately flew to his knee and he glared at her. She had the look on her face that told everyone her next destination was the library.
"Wait till class is over, then you can skive off History of Magic and go to the library," Harry whispered, not figuring out what Hermione was so excited about.
"Would it be for you-know-who's favorite Death Eater?" Neville squeaked.
"As far as we can tell, you could equate it to that," Dumbledore replied.
"So let me get this straight," Seamus began. "The first one is 'oh cookie dough,' the second is 'holy cookie dough,' and the third goes right past cookie dough into things that would loose Gryffindor points."
"Right you are, Mr. Finnegan," Dumbledore said. Another quick point at the board and two skeletons appeared crossed below the large skull.
"There is only one more logical step up," Dean said.
"And what would that be, Mr. Thomas?" Dumbledore questioned.
"If you see the one person that supposedly has that, it's holy things that would loose Gryffindor points. Only you'd probably die before you could get all of that out," Dean replied.
"If you're trying to say that this is Voldemort's Dark Mark, then you're correct," Dumbledore said. The majority of the class paled visibly. Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"Are there any more variations of the Dark Mark?" she asked before Dumbledore could even call on her. Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes before returning the glasses to their perch on his nose. He looked down at Hermione and paused a moment longer before answering her question.
"Not that we're aware of at the moment," he finally said.
"So there isn't a level where they have the skull but no snake tongue. And is it still a Dark Mark if there is no skull and is just bits of the other parts?" Hermione rushed through her questions.
"A skull with no snake is the sign of a Death Eater in the process of being initiated," Dumbledore explained. "Any more questions."
"Leave it alone," Harry hissed. He still hadn't exactly clued in on his friends insistence about missing parts of the dark mark, but he obviously saw that she was touching a subject Dumbledore didn't want to cover in class.
"What does Ab Caedis, Divinitas mean?" Hermione questioned.
"Ah yes, Ab Caedis, Divinitas," Dumbledore said. "Some say it is the motto of the Death Eaters."
"What does it mean?" Dean asked.
"From Blood, Power," Dumbledore replied. Looks of uncertainty passed between the members of the class.
"For your homework!" Dumbledore announced. This cured the uncertainty "I want a foot long parchment on Dark Magic Iconography from before this century." The bell diminished the student's groans.
*****
A shadowy figure stopped a lone prefect in the corridor after lunch.
"Listen to me. Directly after your afternoon class, you will go to the Potions dungeon and break into a cupboard." A pair of first years walked past the two boys and looked suspiciously at them before giggling and running off towards the library. The first boy lowered his voice to inaudibility and finished his instructions.
*****
"So what did you figure out?" Ron asked. He and Harry were seated at the chess table in the corner, virtually ignoring the game taking place between them. Hermione rushed in through the portrait hole and directly over to the pair. Her hair was frizzier than ever and she had a smudge of ink on the tip of her nose. She pulled her journal from her bag and flung it open to the page of Astrid's tattoo. She slammed the book down in the middle of the chess board and then laid another open book next to it.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing to a picture in the book.
"It's the Dark Mark of You-Know-Who's favorite death eater," Ron replied, recognizing the symbol that Dumbledore had shown them in class earlier. He picked up his chess case and started placing their pieces back in their individual spots.
"WRONG!" Hermione cried.
"Then what is it?" Ron asked, glaring up at his friend.
"It's Keiran's Dark Mark," Hermione said.
"How do you figure?" Ron asked.
"Because that!" Hermione jabbed her finger down on the picture of the sword in her journal. "I found that on Astrid's ankle last night after you three were all asleep!" Ron's jaw dropped while Harry dragged his fingers across his scar.
"But it makes perfect sense doesn't it? The sword is on Astrid's ankle. Dumbledore shows us this picture the day after Astrid basically tells us, well, you know. And this mark is probably the source of her pain, which usually happens to coincide with Harry's dreams about, well, you know, and his scar itching! And since the well you knows are the same!"
"Well, you know," came a small male voice from just behind Hermione, finishing her explanation. Ron grabbed Hermione's journal. It instantly clamped closed on his hand. Harry slammed the other book shut and stuffed it between himself and the seat of his chair.
"SAWYER!" Hermione exclaimed, more than a little suspiciously.
"Yes, I just caught the three prefects doing something they're probably not supposed to!" Sawyer cheered. "But all I really wanted was to ask if you had seen Jason. He and I have to go meet Mandrake Chelsea and Nathan and Hannah for extra potions help."
"Hannah?" Ron asked.
"She's doing a project for Snape that includes teaching a remedial potions course for first years. Something about reviewing for her O.W.L.S. and learning basic medi-magic potions at the same time," Harry quickly explained.
"Yeah, and she's a much better teacher than Snape!" Sawyer exclaimed. "But don't tell him I said that. He'd probably serve up an order of roast Sawyer for lunch."
*****
The door to Snape's classroom creaked slowly open and a lone fifth year stepped inside. He made his way over to the first cupboard he saw and pried the door open. Paying no attention to the fact that the cabinet was, in fact, unlocked, he surveyed the contents of the shelves. He chose a bottle filled with a murky green liquid from the top row and twisted the top off. The bottle was small, not more than an ounce and a half or two ounces. He glanced at it once more before tipping his head back and pouring the contents down his throat. He grabbed five more bottles from the cabinet, making sure none held the same color liquid. He pulled the stoppers out and lined the bottles up along the nearest lab table. After adding another six opened vials to the line, he poured another in his mouth. Letting the discarded bottle shatter on the floor, he reached for the next two. They quickly followed the first two. Three different ones followed those, and another one after those three. The potions mixing in his stomach immediately had an effect, and he fell to the floor amid broken glass and discarded bottle tops. He reached for one last potion. Before he could tip it down his throat, Draco collapsed, fully unconscious.