We entered into the large, arena-type location, and my eyes were drawn magnetically to the center, where a raised area that expanded to form a circle had been erected. I bit my lip slightly as I let my eyes trail over the various items placed strategically on this platform, and watched as the Death Eaters moved to reposition certain devices of torture.
A Burning Day. It'd been called this earlier during the Trials because the first techniques of pain and death were that of the flame. A cruel, cruel fate. But nothing compared to the ideas that had come about recently.
Trials were held at random during the first years of Lord Voldemort's rise to power. Now that he had enough followers to keep the terror alive in the hearts and minds of the witches and wizards, he was beginning to rid himself of those with the least loyalty or courage, the least amount of devotion to him.
Voldemort didn't simply Obliviate those who he deemed unfit. No, they received a quick and unhesitating Avada Kedavra. Unlike the fate of those who knew too much, but didn't follow the Dark Lord. They were the ones who suffered on the Burning Days, they and those they loved.
Oh, but there were different levels of torture. And the most common was a lower level that resulted in a quicker death. Less suffering. These were given to loved ones of Death Eaters, no matter how loyal, who dismayed the Dark Lord.
In fact, it was very rare that a person suffer the most painful of them all, so very unused that I'd only seen it used once in my entire life. Until one specific Death Eater rose in the ranks to become Voldemort's most trusted of them all. Very powerful, and with a heart as cold as ice and as black as coal. A young woman by the name of Clarissa de Beauvoir.
Legends of her were told. They said that she'd been good once, an aspiring Auror at Beauxbatons in France. She was of a very wealthy family, and had an arrangement to marry the prominent businessman Jacques de Beauvoir. And she did marry Monsieur de Beauvoir. She not only married him, but murdered him as well, though she was never convicted of it.
The evil had crept into her soul before all of that, though. She'd become a Death Eater immediately after school, for reasons still unknown. The legends say that her spiral downward to the deepest regions of Hell spawned from jealousy. Jealousy of a young man, a Death Eater like herself, who had stolen her heart, then given his to another, and a Muggle-born at that.
Lady Voldemort. That's what many called her. She was, truly, the female version of him. And they frequently joined powers, mixed their magic, to see and enjoy the pain that released itself in the screams of their victims. A sick pleasure.
The Heiress de Beauvoir had gotten her revenge on her young lover, though. And had started the first of the Burning Days. She had gone to Lord Voldemort, who would trust her word over any others, and she had accused the young man's wife of excessive knowledge, telling the Dark Lord that his Death Eater had been feeding her secrets about the plans.
And the young woman was tried, convicted, and burned, all at the amusement and laughter of Mademoiselle Clarissa.
I watched from the seat I'd been forced into as Voldemort and Lady Clarissa entered aristocratically, her hand resting delicately on his arm, her cloak's hood pulled back to reveal the very lovely woman's face, the smirk that rested upon it almost seductive. Voldemort nodded to the revering bows of his followers, and gestured gently for his dear Lady to do the same, as they were as much in adoration for her as for him.
Lord Voldemort looked on with a cold amusement at the assembled group. Now grown, the once quite handsome Tom Riddle had grown even more attractive with age. But the beautiful temptress at his side stole the attention of his followers.
And then she spoke. She spoke with a calm, controlled tone, giving the names and crimes committed of those to join the dead. She seemed almost bored with the entire thing. When the accused and convicted were brought out to the platform, after Lord and Lady had taken their seats, her cheeks had flushed slightly, her eyes getting a slightly feverish look, and her smirk staying. The excitement of the kill. The look that held every man's gaze, including the man sitting to her left and occupying her hand with his, a small smile playfully crossing his lips as he brought her hand up to kiss it.
Though the two didn't much love each other, they did have a very intimate relationship, as would be expected. After all, Dark Lord or not, he was still a man. And she was a devastatingly beautiful woman, and every movement she made became a very enchanting thing.
From my stance, clearly hidden from any notice, I pushed my mind to the two of them, entering that telepathic bond they shared and listening intently to their thoughts.
"I am pleased you are enjoying yourself, dear Lady." His silky voice began.
"I am, my Lord. The screams and the blood... it is always such a refreshing experience." Her reply. I winced slightly, shaking my head. So very evil. But I focused once more as she began again.
"I can hardly contain the excitement of what will occur so very soon, Lord. I've seen how James Potter's mind works, dear. His pride will betray him and we will have our information soon enough." James Potter? Why would they be after him?
"Shh... shh, my pet. We have a bit of an eavesdropper," he replied and my blood ran cold. I glanced to where the two sat and saw both Lord and Lady staring directly at me, smirking.
Her hand stretched up. Snap. The crowd fell silent.
"It seems we've come across a spy," His voice said, carrying over the low, pitiful moan of one of the condemned, quickly silenced by the Death Curse. Voldemort drew his wand, pointing it at me. "Finite Incantatum!" he said softly, but I felt myself turning back into my original state.
I wasn't going to get caught. The Order needed this information. I whistled as Death Eaters rushed to surround me, alerting my partner, who pulled me up on the broomstick behind him seconds later, quickly moving into the clouds where the Death Curses aimed at us would be lost.
"Di, what happened?" I bit my lip, shaking my head.
"Just fly, Remus. James and Lily are in serious danger," I said, closing my eyes and burying my head in his back to try to calm myself down before I gave my report to the rest of the Order. These types of missions usually left me in a bit of a frantic state. And I wasn't much good when I was hysterical.
---
I finished recounting what had happened, sitting back down as I finished, observing the reactions. Reactions that ranged from fright to confidence to doubt.
"Nor-" Albus Dumbledore began.
"Di," I interrupted, biting my lip slightly. No one here needed to know who I really was quite yet.
He nodded. "Di… can you remember the names of the victims?"
"Yes, of course," I replied, and we made a plan to meet after the meeting so that I could give him those names, which he said could prove very useful when we made our bold attack finally.
"And you say that Voldemort used a simple 'Finite Incantatum' to pull off your glamour?"
And I nodded slightly.
"Did they recognize you?" Alice Longbottom queried, her deep, concerned eyes searching me.
"No, and thank Merlin for that. I should think that Lady de Beauvoir would find it a amusing to make a grand show of killing me in the most painful way her horrible mind can devise," I said, smiling a bit.
"You're positive she said 'James Potter'?" questioned one of the men. I sighed. Trust the men to doubt a lady's work. Still trapped in the past.
"Yes, of course. Why would I make this up? Now… aren't we going to send someone to warn them?" I said, getting to my feet and beginning to pace, rather tired of sitting and doing nothing.
"Haste and rash actions will get us nowhere," another of the dubious men stated, and I glared at him.
"So you condemn the Potters to death then?" I said, my voice rising, as well as my temper.
"We can't just go running after---" He was interrupted by the dagger I'd stabbed into the table in my anger.
"I will not let them die," I hissed, then, pulling my weapon from the wood, stormed out to fetch my broom, taking off immediately. I heard a bit of shouting from behind, and smiled a bit at Remus, who quickly caught up beside me.
"We've got to hurry. Voldemort isn't likely to wait for us to stop him, especially now that we know who he's after," I yelled to him, not taking my eyes from the imaginary spot before me. I bloody hated flying.
--
I knocked on the door of the silent house, but when there was no answer, my heart dropped and I quickly entered the house, Remus behind me. They'd already been here. My eyes closed as I caught sight of the crumpled body of James. In a last hope, I bent close to him, checking his pulse. Nothing.
"Dead. We're too late," I said softly to Remus, who had knelt down as well.
We mourned in silence for a few moments, and then he looked at me, curiosity in his eyes. "What happened?"
I moved to my feet, focusing my mind on the events. "James and Lily were expecting it. He hadn't any fear for himself. The Lord and Lady arrived and… were civilized. They knocked." I focused a bit more. "James sent Lily into the back room with the child. He opened the door. They rushed in."
"He tried to fight back. But he didn't even have enough time to draw his wand. A Death Curse. They kicked him aside and moved to the back of the house." I got to my feet, vividly seeing the events and leading Remus to the back of the house.
My brow furrowed as we got closer. "There was great power here. Great power that wasn't Voldemort. And it remains," I said softly, opening the door that hung from it's hinges a bit wider. Lily lay crumpled to the ground, a bundle in her arms. "Another Death Curse," I muttered, then bit my lip. "There are other spells here. More than necessary, and many I've never heard of. Voldemort sensed a threat. He threw curses one after another but… oh, Remus. He was so very weak when he left. His curses backfired. But why?"
Just then, a slight whimper met my ears and the bundle in Lily's arm moved. One hand went to the sword at my side, and I moved to my knees, uncovering the blanket a bit to reveal… the child. A strange scratch was etched into his forehead, and I muttered a quick spell to dry the blood and heal the wound.
"Harry Potter. Remus, this little boy managed to live through this attack. Not only did he live through it, but… I do believe he ruined Voldemort for good. Or at least until he regains the strength to fight back. He's given us a great deal of time, though," I said, pulling the child into my arms and standing. I could feel the incredible power surging from him.
"How is this so? A baby… defeating the greatest wizard in the world…" Remus said, disbelief in his expression.
"It's impossible to know just yet. But… we need to get him to safety. This little child, a mere infant, has just become a key player and an important target for Voldemort's forces."
---
I watched Rubeus take off on that dratted machine, Harry in his arms, and was rather sad to see him go. Sad and worried. "How can we be sure that he is safe, Remus? Staying with Muggles?" I said, shaking my head. "We've got to stop this. He can stay with me." I summoned my broom, but he caught it.
"Di… you know this is for the best. He will be submerged back into our world when he's able to attend Hogwarts," he said, sighing. I inhaled and exhaled heavily, then shook my head a bit.
"I can't stay with the Order," I said softly, wanting to break the news to him first. "I can't stay with the group who stood by and lingered as James and Lily were murdered. It's just… I need to go travel a bit. Try to figure out more of this. Why did Voldemort attack the Potters? How was Harry able to defeat him?"
Remus nodded a bit, looking at me with a slight smile. "I figured such, Di. You're not one to stay too long in one place anyway. Never were," he replied, laughing slightly. "Where are you planning on going?"
"Rome, I believe, will be my first stop. There's a lot of information to be found, and I have some contacts there that could help me. But I'm not sure where I'll go from there. Just see where all of this takes me, you know?"
"You be careful, then. When you decide to come back, owl me," he said, and I nodded. "Merlin guide you safely, my friend." I smiled, then took my broom and, after a final goodbye, took off.