'Isa (Ice rune)-Sacred to intensity, this rune indicates obstacles,
limitations, and barriers while warning against continuance. Meanings
include: coldness, dead end, strong hidden forces. Only acting positively
will melt ice.'
"Everyone chooses their own destiny. That's the law of the universe. You
just make sure you choose one that keeps you alive."
Dean Koontz's Intensity
"Let your music speak of fear, overwhelming child's fear, fear that the
entire fabric of things is rent and will never be whole."
Anne Rice's Violin
"If something is precious to you...no matter how painful or how hard to
seems, no matter what it may cost you, you have to hang in there...and protect it with all the strength you've got, even at the risk of your own life! If you do that, even if you die in the attempt, at least the world
will be left with the proof that a man worth living had died!"
Naruto ch. 20
"Being attached to your government, your clan, and your name...Those are your
limits, and condemning yourself to your 'vessel' is detestable...and you can't see...that to fear and hate those who don't know...is foolish! Because clans and the like...are only attached to the insignificant things and lose
sight of what is truly important. Real change cannot be created with
regulations and limitations...or skeletal frames of imagination and
premonitions..."
Uchiha Itachi
Naruto Ch. 222
"Dawn in my soul
A bit of sun for each home
A bit of light for everyone
Under the canopy, a leaf trembles
And the dew remembers the clouds
And the earth exhales a huge wind
And life shivers, shivers
Kite of my childhood
Fragile hope hanging in the sky
Hearts open, human abodes
In a world where no one is excluded."
Cyclo
Chapter 6: Boundaries
As if in a trance, Elizabeth slowly wiped the table clean of its message. She let her hands flow in a circular motion even when those ominous, ashy letters were gone. What do I do now?
She brought the covers to her chin, rocking back and forth.
If I meet Him, I will cross a threshold. The strange thought rang true. She would be abandoning her old life to the point where she could turn around and gaze back but never step foot on that familiar soil again; he was death...the boy who carried death around in his eyes. What are the consequences of confronting such a being! How silly!
She had to get up and move around to stop feeling so cold. Rubbing her hands swiftly across her shaking shoulders, she shuffled to the middle of the ivory (writing on marble) room and began to pace. Why am I even considering...
That was obvious. Even if she defied him and didn't meet him face-to-face, she would see him again. One of her most precious possessions is between his spider-like fingers; he carried the fragile chain with those cold hands that had mocked her and pushed a man to his death. If she didn't meet the shadow boy, what would he do with her cinnamon-eyed, beautiful mother's necklace? She had to face him...but Elizabeth Faye Potter was terribly frightened.
The images of last night were stored up as if it had all been another nightmare. After the jolting message in the dust, she was wide awake. Smith waving his arms as if trying to fly...that boy's face is so apathetic yet his eyes shone with ruddy joy at the picture he creates. The shadow boy was like a backdrop of an ancient, black-and-white movie. It was unnatural and so out-of-place that it became something horrible, a force of its own in the blurry motion picture. He was unfathomable; simply picturing that tall figure made her head terribly numb and her breath hitch. To face him after she had witnessed what he was capable of...
What is HE? That he can exist in-between where ghost can't even tread?
She could go to Dumbledore right this minute and tell him what really happened on those steps in-between. Dumbledore would forgive her if she simply explained herself-
No...she had chosen this path. She had not told Dumbledore and Tonks about the boy; she lied through her teeth. He just slipped... this was her problem and her demon to face. But she had so many to face! It was apparent that Smith and the hostile shade were not on the same side. The boy was angry at Smith for...What? Beating him to the punch? Smith was going to take me away when the spirit had something else in mind! The first time I saw him in the hall...that cold look of intention through burning eyes.
Smith spoke of something greater he was apart of...Julia said the Death Eaters weren't working alone. Dumbledore claimed that lot was mislead. All the things that had happened since she came back...She had to think what the state of things would be if she hadn't escaped and forced her way unintentionally into the Wizarding World. Would they have come for her? Or would the Death Eaters have remained silenced... no shadow boys looming in the school halls or Thorns piercing the sky? Would the world her father fought to protect still be preserved?
Elizabeth sat down hard by the corner of hospital bed, twirling her hair between her fingers nervously.
How does it all connect? How does it all connect to me?
She was being vain. Everything might not have to do directly with her...she was just only nearly abducted! She searched the illuminated night sky for some sign.
Was present at Diagon Alley for the attack! I'm here at Hogwarts where everything's falling apart, where worlds are colliding through mirrors and death is here!
Was she to blame for the sickness among the animals, Hermione's injury, the loss of Michael's little sister, and her own parent's...
You were born in a time of darkness. Hadn't Dumbledore said that? This is overwhelming!
How had it come to be this way, her future and dreams? Or was her future locked in the past? She was being encircled, heavily woven into these layers of plots. If one enemy didn't get her, the other would. Closing her weary eyes in frustration, she knew she had no way of figuring out anything. If she kept her eyes closed, she would picture her mother's face that burned on the back of her eyelids. Elizabeth opened her eyes to look upon the Forbidden Forest.
The last fading image of her mother and the life that radiated from her was a painful reminder of what could have been. She so wanted to remember more but that chapter of her life was written in invisible ink forever. She had no clues to what had happened.
Then again...her brother!
Her brother...Smith threw those piercing words. Elizabeth saw her face reflected in the sparkling window with her features alight with the possibility. She scanned the horizon and did not see the forest. Now she could focus her jumbled thoughts.
Are you alive out there, little brother? Are you afraid and alone? Don't worry and don't be afraid. I promise I will come for you. I will find a way! No force on Earth could keep me away!
This oath she shall live by. Thank you, brother. I don't even know your name. This oath gave her strength even in the face of that force...whatever it is that lurks out there waiting. She could face that boy.
Use the book.
She blinked, hand flying up to her mouth. What part of her had that thought emerged from? She had forgotten that cursed thing! She had promised herself she would never look at that ugly book because of what it made her do; it made her take—
I must be tired. A raggedy, old book controlling people? But that symbol...
She would look at the book first thing in the morning. Perhaps it would clue her in on exactly what was going on here.
Elizabeth perched herself upon the window seal to watch the sun rise. The warm light seeped in the night sky, mixing into a royal purple. The forest grew friendlier; the lingering fireflies made the trees dance as if Christmas had come early.
The crisp, autumn air was sinking in the glass and stone. She laid her aching forehead against the glass while smiling at her mirror self who offered her company. Who knows? With what I've been through with mirrors, another Elizabeth might exist on the other side of the glass. Hopefully she's had a better go of things. Perhaps not...she has a scar, I think, on her forehead...like lightning...poor thing...just like dad...
Someone was shaking her shoulder.
"What are you doing out of bed, Ms. Potter? You could catch your death! Don't you feel the cold for heaven's sake?!" Someone was hissing at her.
Madam Pomfrey was not happy at all. Elizabeth had to admire her composure.
"Is it time for me to go now?'
The nurse looked her over.
"You mustn't push yourself so! You've had a very traumatic experience. I can't even imagine how you're moving about." Madam Pomfrey allowed a small smile to grace her face. "You've got strength, that much is clear. Now just hold still while I examine your arm."
Elizabeth fidgeted anxiously for she wanted to be able to look at that book before anyone else was awake in the dormitory.
"You've healed beautifully, dear. Now—!" The nurse halted, looking puzzled. Her sharp eyes raked Elizabeth's hairline. Her mouth formed an o as she moved her hand slowly to brush back Elizabeth bangs.
Elizabeth moved her head back quickly, suspicious of the woman's behavior.
"I'm...sorry, dear. I thought for a moment I saw...it was just a trick of the light on my old eyes," she laughed nervously as if trying to find reassurance and banish the impossible. Madam Pomfrey cradled her arms.
"You may go, Ms. Potter."
Elizabeth pounded up the stairs with the feeling that if she didn't fetch the book, the opportunity would be lost forever. It would be flung out the window or off a balco—
She stopped by the door to brace herself to fulfill her goal. Please let no one be awake to question me about Smith...please!
"Tacitus."
It felt odd to be sneaking into one's own room but stranger things had happened. She tapped her trunk gently which opened with a click and felt along the rim for that tell-tell bulge. Ah hah!
She carefully picked up the seeming fragile book that was already losing some of its scales. It was a strangely bewitching item in the morning rays, dancing with unnamable colors. It reminded her of the sun rise only more magical. And in the middle of the dancing lights was the symbol she had the misfortune to see so many times. It didn't seem so threatening now. It was actually quite interesting...promising answers to riddles, mysteries, and the answer to everything...she traced the Thorn almost lovingly as if it were her secret that—
"Whatcha doing?" Sandy's voice was thick with sleep. "Didn't you hear that classes were cancelled for today?"
Elizabeth froze as her heart leapt in a sort of guilty dance. She quickly rushed to thrust the book in her bag. She was awake now as if from a deep sleep after being dosed with cold water. That book had done it again and she had allowed it.
The freckled girl struggled to be free from her covers to get a better look at the noisemaker. Her wide eyes grew even wider.
"Elizabeth!" she squeaked. The red-head motioned frantically for her to lower her voice.
Sandy leapt out of bed, rummaged through her pile of robes on her trunk, and thrust a flowing, silver cloak into Elizabeth's sweaty hands which instantly became invisible. All the while she kept talking excitedly and motioning with her hands.
"I tried to find you...when Hogwarts was under attack. All I found by the Oddball was your cloak. I thought you were dead or something-for you to leave your dad's cloak behind!"
Or something...her mind was still floundering from that bloody book. What is this?
"My invisibility cloak," Elizabeth muttered.
Sandy looked surprised.
"Of course it is." She sat back on her feet to study her shaken friend. "What happened to you anyway? I heard that there was...a man who fell, who died...'
Elizabeth didn't look up.
Sandy continued hesitantly. "Someone told me that you...appeared out of thin air. But I had your cloak so I knew that wasn't why you were invisible. Do you know some sort of charm?" She looked expectantly at Elizabeth who didn't respond as she was still studying the supple material in her hands while not really seeing the cloak at all.
"Um...I had a brush with McGonagall...knocked her flat actually. She saw the cloak. I'm sorry! I was just so panicked, you know, I didn't know what to do. But McGonagall didn't even confiscate it so I guess you can keep your dad's cloak!" Sandy finished with a grin.
Elizabeth got to her feet and grabbed her bag. Sandy hastily stood up.
"So where are you going? Professor Dumbledore said to stay in the House Dorms until he summoned us for the school meeting, you know, in the Great Hall. He's going to talk to us about...all the loony stuff that's been going on lately."
"It's a good thing I have my cloak then. Thanks for taking care of it for me. That means a lot."
She turned abruptly to leave but stopped as a thought dawned on her.
"Are the others okay? Michael and Daniel?"
"Y-yeah! Michael was really worried about you last night. He was freaking out about what could have happened and not watching after you better."
Elizabeth clasped the door handle tightly, wanting just to get out of that room before that other girls woke up and started interrogating her.
"You aren't going to say anything? You can talk to me. You know you can trust me, right? I totally understand if you don't want to talk about last night. That's okay. But I do hope it's not because you don't think I'm not your friend and that I wasn't worried about you!"
Elizabeth gazed levelly at the concerned girl. What should I say? She had already made her decision on the way to the dorm to keep her distance from her peers because they might get involved in all the layers and get hurt or flung off the sta— Everyone around Potters die...obviously.
Silence that eagerly waited the fall on the chopping block hung in the air. Sandy's face showed more alarm and hurt every second.
"What happened last night...was really bad. I don't think...you don't have the mental capacity to understand. Heck, you'll probably blab anything I tell you to the whole entire school. That's how much I trust you, gossip queen." Her voice was carefully chilled but quite scalding.
Sandy stepped back, her face hardening.
"Is that so, Miss-I-Have-The-Personality-Of-Dry-Rot?! My dad was right about you. Everything bad that's happening...it's all because of you, isn't it?!"
Hearing those words spoken so directly cut deep and stuck because deep down she had the terrible feeling they were not off the mark.
"If you and your dear dad believe that, then you'd best keep you distance then."
Finnigan opened her mouth to retort. She scrambled out the door so fast she was sure the rug might have caught on fire.
That's that.
Elizabeth's footfalls echoed loudly in her ears. She felt it happening...she felt her foundation shift. How very cold she had been. Doesn't she understand? Why do they...and what about dry rot?! Oh! Never mind. They were at risk around her because of her name and who she is. How clear her path was becoming. She was forging her path well. It was not her fault that it had already been chosen by a cold touch, a sharp Thorn, and burning eyes.
What if she had been with me when Smith grabbed me?! What if Michael or Daniel had...
Her method was in the best interest of everyone. Then why did Elizabeth feel like she had lost something special by throwing it away? Easy come, easy go. She had only just met Sandy for Cripes sake! She couldn't allow anyone to get hurt for her sake. She was going to face everything that came at her starting with that murderous shade.
Okay, priorities! Got to hit the library. Check out the book. The sign...find out what it means. Research what that guy could possibly be and figure out how to defend yourself if it comes down to a fight. And yearbooks...loads of yearbooks! Got to find out who I'm dealing with!
She checked to see that the invisibility cloak was secure. Her father left her with possibly the mot vital tool of her life. It meant freedom from prying eyes and the questions to come.
As a child...no, she wasn't a child anymore. Never had she felt like she was. During her time at the orphanage, although Elizabeth didn't acknowledge it, she escaped through fantasy and always hoped for tomorrow to be better. Maybe her father would appear on the doorstep after coming back from some great Battle and collect her in his arms. Her memory would come back; for awhile, such hope was easy and natural.
Hogwarts seemed to stand for that lost idea that her life would be better in this magical world so far away from the dull Muggle orphanage. Here she had family. Here she found pieces of her parents; her father's cloak was supposed to be a promise of security. Now the heirloom had become a tool for survival. Now Elizabeth wasn't looking for a way out from her problems and the whispers of the past still touching her. She was looking for a way in and a conclusion.
Her invisibility cloak meant freedom from time where for a few minutes one can observe life...maybe see patterns. Most of all, to Elizabeth mind, it meant unlimited access to any book I need...
Elizabeth took off the cloak on the second floor near the girl's bathroom and made her way down to the Great Hall. She had begun to think maybe she should show up for the meeting to hear what Dumbledore could possibly say to calm people down.
A group of older students about in their fifth year gathered in the main corridor by the suits of armor. Their rallying point was a tall, sandy- haired by who appeared completely aware of the attention he was receiving. Elizabeth had almost wandered into their sight.
"So you saw the Potter girl push that man, Greengrass?"
Elizabeth quickly ducked behind a gargoyle.
"She was standing exactly where he would have fallen from. Poof! Just appeared out of nowhere! Dumbledore didn't even spot her before! Must have run right through them! Now that's some powerful magic. I couldn't get see her close up because Professors and some violet-haired witch were swarming about. But I did spot that blood was everywhere! I asked McGonagall, I did, who exactly the man was because as a Prefect, I thought I should know! And the old biddy wouldn't tell me anything. And this meeting...I doubt old Dumbledore's going to say much except the basics."
"Basics?"
"You know, how we'll all in good hands and to trust the professors...that whole bit. First off they've got to protect Potter. That's why no one from the Ministry or Daily Prophet came and that's why we're all in the dark. I personally don't feel comfortable in a school that hides murders!"
"Or murderers?" a girl with a dark braid and equally dark scowl muttered.
"Wait a minute. We don't know what happened. It doesn't mean that Potter murdered the guy," a shorter boy said. Thank you!
'We never will either! Stuff like this has happened before at Hogwarts. You know when? When Harry Potter was a student here! They covered up for him too. The Triwizard Tournament was here, right here at Hogwarts. Potter and another kid, Digget...no, wait...it was Diggory...Diggory disappeared during the final competition...also into thin air. And guess what? Potter appeared later and so did Diggory except Diggory was most definitely dead. And before that, a lot of kids were Petrified during his second year...something that only happened once before sixty or seventy years ago. I bet his grandfather was here then or something. They say he's a hero and all but why do you think that You-Know-Who wanted to kill him so bad? He must've seen harmless Harry Potter as a threat, maybe as the up-and-coming Dark Lord. Besides, how could a baby defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard in centuries if he didn't possess some kind of power? Then he disappears of the face of the earth for real with his wife popping up dead! I don't care if that Potter girl did anything to the mystery man. I just think that it's not a coincidence that she was involved. One thing's for sure! Mark my words, when a Potter is at this school, no one's safe. We'll be lucky if the school remains standing at this rate!"
Elizabeth had heard enough. Walking silently the other way, hand dragging against the wall, she decided to skip the bloody meeting no matter what anyone said. She'd go to McGonagall and say she was ill and in desperate need to have a lie down in her room. When everyone's in the Great Hall, she'll sneak in the library and investigate. Yes, that's what she'll do. Halloween was tomorrow after all.
Elizabeth knocked softly on Professor McGonagall's door.
"Enter," a sharp voice responded on the other side. McGonagall's office was extremely tidy and Red.
McGonagall looked up sternly but her face softened considerably when she realized who had stopped by.
"What is it, Potter? Are you alright?"
Elizabeth felt sorry she had to concern the woman more, but it was necessary if she was going to get out of the ominous school meeting full of stares and awkward questions. She put on her best gloomy face and most pitiful voice.
"Professor, I'm fine... I'm just really tired. I didn't sleep too well in the Hospital Wing. I don't think I can eat anything either. Might I remain in my room for the night to have a lie-down?"
McGonagall hesitated, pursing her thin lips tightly. "Tonight's gathering is very important to prevent any misunderstandings among the students. I know the Headmaster feels that you should be present."
Elizabeth's face must have paled very quickly. Her heart was in her shoes. She didn't realize how anxious she was about facing her peers! She was so certain she could get out of it! Bloody hell!
The aged witch in front of her was taken back at her rapidly changing appearance.
"Perhaps...it's best you rest tonight. I shall inform the Headmaster of your absence."
Elizabeth smiled weakly at the kind, wonderful professor. She had been spared! She turned on her heels to go and was almost out the door.
"Oh, and Potter...I expect you to remain in your room and no more nightly escapades...especially now."
She flushed scarlet. "Yes, Professor," she muttered.
Elizabeth wandered down the hall, taking her time before reaching her Common Room. She was going so slowly that it seemed she was standing still. Finally, she gave it up and leaned against the chilly wall to eye the dancing flames in the torches.
Elizabeth honestly did feel ill. She wasn't so proud of her exchange of words with her concerned friend that morning. Deep down, Elizabeth believed she had done the correct thing to ensure the safety of her classmates. She saw hanging on others and maybe getting them killed was cowardly or selfish. Of course, she was right. What kind of Gryffindor would I be then? If her decision was so right, why did she keep replaying their fight in her head like a broken record? Why did she feel she had done something horrible?
And then, there was her lack of bravery. The episode in McGonagall's office proved beyond a doubt that she was afraid of her own classmates and what they thought of her. What on earth? How can I take care of my problems when I feel so scared?! Scared of being alone? What would my father think of me? She just needed to sit for awhile and collect herself. Sure.
Sitting down and crossing her legs, Elizabeth sorted through her thoughts. It is normal to be afraid; it's what I do while being afraid that matters. Seeing her behavior in that office was a good reflection. She wouldn't hesitate because of fear. She would take on anything no matter how frightened she might be. Elizabeth got to her feet and looked forward to napping a little before hitting the library.
"Elizabeth." A soft voice broke into her thoughts.
Josephine Finch-Fletchley stood nervously a few feet away. Elizabeth couldn't make out her expression in the shadows. Should I just keep moving and ignore her? Before she could make her decision, Josephine began to speak.
"Listen, I...I understand why you acted the way you did this morning. I kind of woke up during the middle of you guys fighting. And, although what you said was kind of mean, I understand why. You don't want anyone to get hurt because of who you are."
Elizabeth didn't know how to respond due to her shock.
"I've felt that way before. You know, when you saved my life...when Lilith Malfoy tried to hurt me. She...thinks I weak, easy to push around. Sometimes, I wish I could be stronger and like somebody else...like you. Then, no one would be hurt for being around me," the girl stammered. "I know that's nothing compared to what happened to you. But...I t-think sometimes we all need to lean on somebody else whom we can trust. If we stick together, we can be strong together...It sounds kind of corny but...what I'm trying to say...you don't have to be alone to be strong or brave. It's not a bad thing to trust somebody else. You were there for me. I can be there for you."
Elizabeth was glad it was dark because she felt tears welling up in her eyes. No body had ever spoken to her like this. Josephine seemed to really understanding her. But! How could she allow this girl to possibly get hurt?! She regained her voice.
"Thank you. I can't tell you...you're the first person to ever truly understand why I..."
She wasn't supposed to be saying that! She was supposed to distance herself as much as possible. But could she...
"Let me help you...I won't question you or hang on you. I just want you to know I'm your friend and you can lean on me if you need to."
She was crying now. Sure, Elizabeth had cried before but not because of what anyone else had said nicely. This was new. Josephine stepped up and put her hand lightly on Elizabeth's arm. Elizabeth quickly regained her composure.
"Thanks...I'm alright, really. And I know you're my friend. I trust you."
Josephine smiled gently. There was a moment of comfortable silence.
"Are you going to the meeting?" Josephine asked. "Want to walk together?"
"I talked to McGonagall, and she said it was a good idea if I remain in the Common Room." Not exactly the truth but very close and brushing it.
"Well, I tell you how it goes, okay. Get some rest and I'll talk to you later."
As they went their separate ways, they were still connected by their talk. Elizabeth knew she would have to protect Josephine, but she also knew she wasn't so alone. She had a friend.
Elizabeth waited until the Common Room was empty. She would wait for about ten minutes and then attack the library.
Now that she thought about it she wished she had told Dumbledore about the shadow boy. Maybe she made a big mistake. HE knew I wouldn't tell anyone. Now I'm going to look like a liar. But... Dumbledore will understand. Maybe Tonks would understand.
Elizabeth knew she had to focus. She might as well make good use of her time.
She would tell Dumbledore in detail about the murder of Zacharias Smith afterwards.
Picture Hogwarts Library without Madam Pince clicking about. Think paradise.
Elizabeth crept in silently, looking around at the empty librarian desk, an once-in-a-lifetime sight she assumed. Heck, she would be the only one to ever see that!
For starters, she wanted to look at the yearbooks. That boy's face burned in her mind, and Elizabeth wouldn't be able to think clearly until she knew his name. This will take ages!
For a good half-an-hour, Elizabeth poured feverishly over every annual she could get her hands on. Her legs were numb from sitting on them. Stretching, she grabbed an annual randomly from the third shelf. Wonder what house shadow boy was in?
Naturally, the name Slytherin popped into her mind in a flash. He did kill somebody after all! On second thought, would a Slytherin or Ravenclaw be stupid enough to get trapped in-between worlds? Probably not, but she was no expert on the matter at hand.
She opened the yellowing book to the middle and her heart skipped a beat as she saw her surname. James Harold Potter. The very same James who loved Lily, etched on the back of the phoenix.
For a moment, as she eyed the man under the picture reverently, her mind played a dirty trick on her; she thought he looked a lot like shadow boy. Her mouth dropped. No way! She calmed down as she noticed major differences between the two faces and wanted to give herself a good kick in the rear. Mistaking my grandfather for that heartless, cold-!
No! Shadow boy had a leaner, more structured, somber face and narrower eyes. A face that contained utter seriousness and eyes that gazed at another place with his mind on something else in the future or the past...he was a wanderer through time. He even had darker hair, a shade of midnight black and ink, and he definitely didn't look like a guy who needed glasses. Though he looked mischievous, the young man on the page possessed a kinder face that didn't seem able to give such cold looks as the shade did. James Potter was much too ruffled and untidy looking to be a sinister guy.
Becoming gloomy, Elizabeth swiftly shut the annual and carefully placed the book back in its proper place. She consciously searched for a yearbook of a later date and one placed further away from the sacred shelf. The forties...
She picked the one in the middle for the middle was always where the best books were placed as a rule and following that same rule, she opened the book in the middle with gusto... Elizabeth Potter was horrified. She had never seen such an act of careless hate in her life! The face on the middle of the page was completely scratched out and covered with ink; the name had been scratched and torn as well. All that was left of this memory was three letters: Tho...for what...maybe Thomas, but how the heck was she to be sure?! It scared her how much anger was directed...who on earth would bother to do something so petty?
It felt creepy to beholding a book full of bad memories so she quickly discarded the book. She didn't bother to look in any more yearbooks. Something told her she had found shadow boy although some fool denied her the knowledge of his name. Thanks a lot!
Elizabeth was terribly frustrated. All her efforts were in vain! In an act of rebelliousness against the way things were preceding, she barged into the Restricted Section with no idea where to start. Rather violently, she got on her knees and started skimming the names of the books with her hand.
Hands of Fate: Heritage of Magic Today fell in her lap with a thump, spraying dust everywhere. Elizabeth couldn't hold back a cough as the dust invaded her nose. The huge book (she barely was able to lift it) was fairly worn and musty smelling with some pages missing and stains here and there. The old parchment seemed perfectly harmless and here it was in the Restricted Section.
Strange... Elizabeth quickly repeated the silencing charm. She had heard the Restricted Books were apt to scream at you. But the book didn't wiggle or jump out of her hands in protest. The Hands of Fate had no wards or charms at all. On the inside of the cover was a curious silver seal that read Forbidden by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Dolores Jane Umbridge. High Inquisitor, that sounds rather cheap. Was she just highly inquisitive?
The runes young witches and wizards study today date back to the Paleolithic era, the first dawning of magical mastery. The divination and system of runes were assumedly founded by the Volsungr, an ancient tribe from the North. The word rune literally means secret, a translation stemming from the discovery of spiritual foreknowledge in the supernatural realm. As runes were adopted by the Anglo-Saxon alphabet, the system was known nominally as FUThark. The importance of such a written system is extraordinary. In the ancient evolutions of magic, written symbols held more power than other Wizarding forms and were based on the symmetry and flow of nature. Such practices sprung forth from two cultural points that are related by the Iberian race, the earliest magical wielders. One main source is Egypt (see Cult of the Dead pg. 149). The other source brewed right in the British Isles before the Roman Conquest (also see Horde of the Dead pg. 150). Each rune has its own magical properties and can be joined in a variety of ways for various needs. The blank stone or Wyrd is the most foreboding rune as it indicates events out of one's control and left for fate to decide. The most common methods in rune usage are a magical talismans and/or a scope to focus magical energy to perform extremely difficult spells. All know runes are listed below:
Elizabeth scanned rapidly with her finger across the pages, occasionally lifting her bangs to see. There... She blinked. Someone had circled various runes boldly with handwriting in the margins. Handwriting she had seen only just last night! HE read this book once when he was alive. Elizabeth ran her hand across his writing in order to confirm the markings on the page. She felt a little ill when she saw he had circle the Thorn. She eyed his words warily as if they were liable to spring up and attack. His elegant hand wrote the word Secundae.
Thorn Thurisaz Thorn Bush (pronounced as thin)
The Thorn is literally a written symbol meaning troll, ogre, demon, giant, and the thorn bush. It's actually meaning in divination is ambiguous and heavily debated. But all authorities agree that this rune has highly negative magical properties. This rune's patron god is Loki, the shape- shifter and trickster. This demon-rune has the ability to combat any other runes' properties though eihwaz and pethro are highly powerful against it. The thorn's most common use in the earliest years was to invoke dark spirits from the underworld. The rune is generally regarded as a tool to the forbidden art of necromancy. This rune has shape-shifting properties that are drawn from its ogre heritage. The possible necromancy connections associated with this rune has made many wizards hesitant to use it. The only two supposed broad users of this infamous sign were by a branch of Celtic wizards whose practices are for the most part unknown and this division's descendents.
The latter group who wields the Thorn as a mark is stated to not even exist by the majority in the Ministry of Magic. However, many records mention that the Thorn has been seen on the dawn of every new decade on the eve of Samhain (further connected with the Cult of the Dead) and often in between during times of turmoil. During the reign of Grindlewald, eye witnesses say the Thorn rose above the besieged Ministry when the Dark One almost took control. The Thorn also contributed to Grindlewald's defeat; supposedly, the sign illuminated his location several times until Auror A--- --.
The name had been marked through violently with a quill. Three guesses whose quill it was...
It has been said by the more superstitious who believe in this nameless group's existence that throughout the time line of man the Thorn- wielders played a major part in the formation of the modern magical world after the Roman Conquest of Britannia. To sum it up, these wizards are the hands of fate. Of course, this group might not even exist and the Thorn has been used lightly by troublemakers to stir up the community. The Ministry of Magic has heavily investigated any possible leads and claims the rumors to be, to put it simply, "rubbish". If this group does exist, it is thought to be heavily malevolent and threatening to the general good due to its rumored dedication to the Wyrd and supernatural even demonic forces. Furthermore, the possibility of the Thorn-wielders using necromancy and corpse-herding (an ancient practice formed in the Orient) to contact such forces may be close to the reality of their arts.
Do they think its rubbish now? After what happened to my family?! And what the heck is this whole cult of the dead thing?
Elizabeth flipped frantically to page 150 only to discover that these pages had been ripped out. All that was left were the jagged pieces. Oh, that's just great...
But there is still pethro. Finally I'll learn what that stupid word means!
Pethro Fruit Tree
This rune is particularly difficult to decipher, contributing to its common name as a rune of riddles, mysteries, and things existing not as they seem. Its ethereal magical harness on improving the mind has also given it the name 'Rune of Revelation'. A literal translation in the Anglo- Saxon alphabet can range from hearth or fruit tree. It's a rune of rebirth (relating to the Phoenix properties of healing and Divination) and magical powers on earth that are married into nature. That's why it's most likely meaning is fruit tree; fruit tree could be synonymous with elder 'The Witch's Tree', a most sought after tool in difficult potions and in some rare cases, wand forging. The said wand would be quite useful in all branches of magic especially the healing arts.
Elder...my wand!
Elizabeth examined her wand suspiciously. What are the chances?!
She couldn't bring herself to dislike her magical wand because its connection to Pethro and Smith was something it couldn't help. The fact that this wand was made for her only and vice versa seemed like a trick lot of fate. This discovery or 'revelation' as the case may be served to enforce her fear that somehow she was behind the horrid events descending on the Magical World.
Wait! Pethro (elder)...my wand works well against the Thorn! That has to be a good thing, right!
Her hope was renewed. What else works against the Thorn? Eihwaz, was it?
Eihwaz Yew (winter tree) (pronounced 'yet')
This rune is also key to rebirth but not in the sense of rising. Eihwaz means the actual death of the life cycle like degeneration and rebirth. That is why in Celtic tales the gather of dead souls Odin was patron of this rune. Eihwaz works opposite of Pethro as the causer of death. Yew is quite effectively used as a main ingredient of fatal poison and permanent sleeping drafts like the Draught of Living Death. In a standard rune- reading, this rune might mean a tragic past or emotional problems linked to family.
Ydalir, the birth place of one of the Unforgivable Curses as well as Legilimency, was an ancient hall that is now Unplottable. Its location has never been recorded, and this foundation of magical heritage exists only in the ancient writings. According to the myths, Ydalir was built entirely of yew and the Eihwaz was the key to most of the magic performed there. Yet, for all yew's negative uses, this wood as well as the rune can be used as a charm against necromancy and invoked curses. Any wand with this wood would be excellent at magical defense.
Well, that's all fine and dandy. But I still don't know anything I can really use!
Elizabeth almost put the book back but instead placed it in her bag. She figured no one would miss it. It might come in handy. Shadow boy had certainly found the book interesting. Perhaps he still has the torn pages with him.
Her hand grazed the dry scales, and she yielded and took out the Thorn. She opened it to the middle. What the... The writing was in another language! She laughed. What a day!
The lines were all waving and sharp. The 'words' all seemed to flow together and had no divisions. Basically, it looked like the writing of a two-year old on a sugar high.
Looking at the writing made her feel weird. Cold...
Harry, oh gods, what's happening?! Stay here! NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE US HERE! WE NEED YOU! STAY AND PROTECT YOUR CHILDREN FOR-
So cold...
Who the de- Smith flying...crack...Westley...he's coming up here...oh please, mum...make him stay!! And the cold...touch in the dark...
Something dry and rattling through the air, something draining, feeding in the air...
Her vision was getting fuzzy...she was going down- pain! In her left hand! Pain dragging her awake! Her body and mind were so cold...something was in the air—in the library! With her now!
Elizabeth fell on her stomach in an attempt to peek under the shelves and to see it before it saw her.
A dark figure, an unnatural one, who doesn't even touch the ground and doesn't need to walk the earth while rasping and searching! A hand shows under its cloak.
TOUCH!
That hand belonged to a skeleton; it was a hand of something that rotted too long and had been forgotten under black, mossy water. It drew in another rasping breath, and she drowned in the coldness.
MOVE, YOU STUPID GIRL! Someone, some guy hissed at her. A cold voice... Her left hand throbbed and became hot as though a hot poker was being pressed on her skin.
I CAN'T!!
She lurched forward on all fours while trying to hold on to the shelves and tons of books hit the floor. Something changed in the air; she felt motion in the air and heard a sudden whoosh. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and it was behind her. Elizabeth was pushed to her feet with elder in her throbbing hand and almost slipped on the books that lay everywhere trying to trip her up. She thought she saw the whole shelf collapse. She whipped around quickly, but it was all in slow motion. Pitch black was in front of her with its hands reaching and wanting to drag her into the black water where it had rotted and been forgotten. Be forgotten with me...to die is to live... But that wasn't the worst thing that happened. In that time of need, Elizabeth Potter was pushed again to the back of her mind.
Later, when she tried to describe it to herself and figure it out, she would have to say it was like watching a movie in a safe room. You were utterly detached but interesting in the events playing out on the screen.
Her body stood straight up. She was suddenly taller. Her mouth smirked. Her arm raised her wand in her left, marred, burning hand with flourish. A guy's voice, deep and full of murmurs, emerged and bled into her voice. It was a voice of layers.
"Expecto Patronum," the voice said carelessly. Out of the tip of her wand burst a quicksilver serpent.
The pitch black left as it zoomed across the library floor and out the doors. Elizabeth watched as her left hand twirled her wand between her cold yet nimble fingers.
STOP IT!
Her hand threw her wand down violently and when it hit the floor, she was back fully and completely. She was the actress again, and she was being watched by the shadows.
He turned, so gray he almost blended into the wall. She knew where to look because she felt him as she had felt him in her voice and her left hand. In my mind! She was him for that brief moment.
"H-HEY YOU, WAIT! COME B-BACK HERE! TOM!" she croaked after him.
He froze.
She stared a hole in his back. She wished she could move, but she was so tired. Elizabeth was smiling! She was triumphant for she knew his name. He would turn around, come back, and explain himself. He would explain everything. Because she had power, she knew his name.
You can't imagine how offended she was when he disappeared into the grey and took her necklace and pride with him. It was as if she didn't matter at all!
Elizabeth fumed. Then she heard a high pitched voice approaching the library. Incoming!
She scooped up the snake book, bag, and her wand while throwing on her cloak just in the nick of time. Madam Pince stood in the entry, her mouth at her knees. The old, prune-like woman was twitching. Her wrinkled mouth opened wider and wider. It's time for me to go!
Elizabeth edged along the side, eying the woman as if she was trapped in a cage with a cobra. Finally, she reached the door and wobbled towards the staircase. Elizabeth heard Madam Pince's screams all the way to the fifth floor.
Elizabeth couldn't move very fast. Her limbs trembled and were icy-cold. Her knees threatened to give out; her teeth chattered. And in my head...forgotten...Elizabeth felt empty of any happiness. She would never be cheerful again. She didn't have the right for she was a liar.
I protected shadow boy, and he seems to protect me. He is cruel...beautiful and cruel...he saving me to kill me, I know it as sure as I stand here. I felt him. He's bound here by hate and knows nothing else. And he thinks he's a god. I know and can't tell anyone because...it seems like betraying him. Someone I don't know and don't want to know! I have no control anywhere in this world, not even over my own body. She was asleep yet in motion. She was writing a message in dust in a white room. He watched.
He wants to push me; he wants to see how far and how hard he can push until I go over the edge and lose myself... become a shadow of myself. Death came but shadow boy wants me all to himself. With him in that graveyard of light, in shadows!
The murmuring of the waves, lulling and timeless...You belong to me. It's been written in ink, blood, and your flesh. Your name is in my book and has been before you were born. The fools tried to cheat me. Do not try and cheat me, Faye, because I AM.
Elizabeth wondered if her eyes were an ocean of red when he was there in her hands and mind. In that moment, she had ceased to exist. She was locked up somewhere again but not by an arrogant man hording control over young children. Elizabeth had become locked up in her mind which was her only source of freedom. Her freedom was precious to her. He dares?! He thinks he can control me. I'll force him into the shadows for good. I'll fight him!
But how? What could she possibly do? He's playing with her. She needed to confront and talk to him.
But first, Dumbledore...
The phoenix statue served as a reminder to her lost treasure in darkness. Ink, blood, and your flesh...flesh of your flesh.
The scarlet, jeweled eyes of the bringer of rebirth seemed cold...so cold. The phoenix statue was not a promise but a lie. It was now just cold stone. She hoped the man in his office would be kinder.
"Cockroach clusters," Elizabeth said and the bird moved aside. She wobbled up the circling stairway not minding the dark as much while dragging her cloak wearily behind her.
"You dare bring Dementors into this school? ARE YOU MAD?! I thought you were a rational man but your actions today speak of-m..." McGonagall's voice faded behind the Headmaster's.
"It speaks of cowardice. I often wonder, Percival, how you were sorted into Gryffindor judging by your behavior?" Dumbledore sounded sad.
"S-SEE HERE! YOU THINK YOU CAN SPEAK TO ME IN THAT MANNER?! I'M THE MINISTER OF MAGIC! YOU FOOL-who are you to judge me? Have you not seen what has been happening out there to the people? ARE YOU BLIND?! I should think you'd have the sense to see it ...but you are useless now! All you are concerned with now is your position as Headmaster of this school! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING?!"
"How dare you speak of blind love of positions to Albus?! You of all...YOU HPYOCRITE! You aren't worthy enough to look at this man, you! " McGonagall's voice trembled.
"Minerva, be silent. Let's hear his accusations. He has come along way."
There was the rustling of paper, un-crinkled by trembling and immaculate hands.
"I have here a letter from a terrified student claiming that you and your staff are covering up a murder! That Elizabeth Potter was involved in a death of a man! Now, you know the law! She must be questioned by the Ministry before she is considered innocent! Why did you not come forward with this information?! AND WHERE'S THE BODY?! Y-You're withholding evidence!! I don't know how arrogant...or delusional you've become about your position, Dumbledore, but don't you forget that the only reason you're in the school right now is because no one else is willing to take the job except members of your staff whose character is dubious! I required Dementors to accompany me! FOR MY SAFETY!"
"Dubious indeed...you are being generous, Minister," a snobby voice drawled.
Don't tell me Malfoy's in there!
"BE QUIET, YOU-YOU! YOU RODENT! YOU FERRET-!"
"Minerva! Go reassure the students. Make sure everyone is accounted for."
McGonagall realized what Dumbledore meant and so did Elizabeth. She fumbled with her cloak and staggered back down the stairway just as McGonagall, red- faced and tight-mouthed, opened the door.
"Tacitus," Elizabeth whispered and tried to sprint down the hall. McGonagall paused in concern when she saw the phoenix was moved aside. This gave Elizabeth Potter the precious and rare commodity of time.
Elizabeth threw her bag under her bed with her cloak and hurled herself onto the bed. She had just shut her eyes in what she hoped was the best acted sleep of her career when the door opened and the bed curtains parted.
"Potter, I...what are you still doing in your school uniform?" McGonagall growled. The question was tense and sent by a voice of a woman who was on her last leg.
"Wh-wh-oh! Professor? What time is it?" Elizabeth yawned, stretched her arms, and blinked sleepily as though she was far-sighted. She arranged her face in a dumbfounded expression with her mouth hanging open slightly.
"I see...you make it a habit of sleeping in your uniform, Potter...If you don't mind me saying, I find that highly doubtful."
"I-I don't usually. I guess I just fell to sleep when I reached the bed. Um...did something happen? Where is everyone? Did the meeting last for that long? Gosh."
McGonagall eyed her suspiciously, biting her lip in self-restraint. After a pause...
"There was an incident, and I was sent to check on you. There are...Dementors in Hogwarts at the moment. These creatures are extremely hostile and will attack you even if un-provoked. The Minister brought them with him to investigate the school and the Forbidden Forest. The situation is under control, but it is unlikely your dorm mates will be able to leave the Great Hall for the night. You will stay put and- Potter, are you alright?"
The cold wouldn't seep out of her bones, and she had started to shiver uncontrollably. It was difficult, pretending to be interested in what McGonagall was saying.
"F-Fine. I-I'm perfectly f-f-fine," she chattered. McGonagall reached out to feel Elizabeth's forehead.
"Heavens! Potter, you're like ice!! What on-!"
"I-I don't l-like to fe-el to w-warm at nights s-so Sandy gave me thi-s-s cooling ch-charm, and I guess I-go-t car-ried away!" That was so feeble.
"You had time to cast a second year charm and didn't find the time to take off your uniform." Uh-oh!
"W-Well, a th-third year t-taught me a-and it's su-pposed to active-vate when I c-come to bed." No way is she going to believe that!
"Oh!" McGonagall sounded impressed. "That is a very practical application of the Algorum Charm. Here, Potter. 'Aestus estus!'"
The outside of her body felt warm but on the inside, there was scant improvement. But she controlled her teeth to prevent chattering.
"T-Thank you, Professor."
"Think nothing of it, Potter. I must check on the rest of your classmates now. I will charm the doors to prevent any intrusion from a Dementor. Do not move from this room under any circumstance. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor.
The witch was about to turn away but halted, squinting at Elizabeth' forehead with a dawning expression of disbelief. Elizabeth's hand flew up quickly and smoothed down her ruffled bangs.
"Potter..." Her voice was so soft it was almost pleading. No more memories...
"Yes?"
"Nothing. I thought for a moment... It was nothing, dear. Don't concern yourself. You'll be safe in Gryffindor Tower." Elizabeth watched the emerald cloak disappear into the dark.
Elizabeth was in shock. McGonagall was definitely not the type to use the word 'dear'! The matter-of-fact woman almost seemed to doubt herself, and she had left so quickly as though not daring or wanting to stay to confirm her suspicions. Her eyes had reflected fear...no acceptance. The woman was clearly frightened of something....of me?
She had scorned her reflection since Smith had dragged her into the in- between, her blood, and her worst fear of isolation. In-between is where the unwanted ones belong. No world wanted them so they dwell forgotten in- between reflections of those desired worlds. No wonder shadow boy...no wonder Tom is so cold. Elizabeth looked down at her feet in thought as she walked towards the first-year girl's large mirror that they all giggled in front of. Not that she ever had giggled.
She placed her hands on the cold marble and faced herself suddenly with a jerk of her head. Marble...wild and pale...no life in the cheeks...that's not me! That is someone else in there! Something mimicking me, not human with a mask! It's wearing a mask. That's not my face. The girl in the mirror had no expression and no emotion in her eyes. Like plaster... Such indifference! Eyes burning bright... She forced her eyes to focus and relaxed at the familiarity now. Her green eyes...no one else's. Just breathe! This is me all right! A bit untidy with her auburn hair sticking every which way...pale but in a creamy-sort of way with life in her cheeks...a few freckles...and, as much as she hated to admit it, the trademark purple underneath her eyes. But the bags were her's. Nothing had changed at all. She didn't chance a look at her forehead, but everything else was fine. Her forehead would be the same and dotted with one or two freckles. Growing confidant, she lifted up her bangs boldly. Marred...
Just over the left eyebrow was darkened, bruised skin in the shape of a lightening bolt. He had burned her. He had chosen her path. You belong to me.
Halloween was here. She knew nothing.
Elizabeth collapsed after she had dragged herself to her bed. She slept in her uniform. The cold burned now in her bones. The real cold was gone. The afterimage was engrained in her bones. She had no nightmares for once, a rare occasion. Her subconscious must have declared a nightmare a waste as her conscious life was rapidly becoming the biggest night terror of all.
Halloween was here. She did nothing.
Her dorm mates returned in the early morning hours but left. She, the actress, played the role; she slept, and they whispered. Josephine stayed behind. She slept until Josephine left. She discovered toast and jam on the table beside her bed. It tasted stale and bitter in her dry mouth, and she had no water.
Halloween was here. She felt nothing.
Voices outside the door...laughter outside the door...in the Common Room, they played Wizard's Chess and Wizard Snaps. Crack. The crisis was over. The Common Room glowed with warmth. Her room...the mirror shone like ice.
Halloween was here. She was nothing. He was something. She slept.
"Elizabeth." She climbed toward the light. She awoke.
The sun burned angrily on the wall in protest as the night bled into the sky. The last color perhaps that burns and dances in her eyes. Red...
Josephine peeked around the door, flushed from laughter.
"We're heading to the Halloween Feast. Are you coming?"
"Yeah! Hold on for a minute, okay!" I'm acting. Ask me what's wrong, and I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything if just to buy time. I want you to know...if I disappear into the shadows, I want you to know what happened. I don't want to be forgotten.
"Okay. I'll be by the opening."
Elizabeth didn't bother to fix up. She grabbed her bag, her cloak, and her wand. She picked up her grandmother's scarf to keep warm.
As last meals go, it wasn't too shabby. Pumpkin juice, pumpkin pastries, pumpkin pie, and top it all off with Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans! The ceiling was bewitched with the sparkling night sky. Each twinkle was a treasure. The stars formed shapes. She thought she spotted a highly suspicious looking triangle that was shining brightly and laughing too. She studied the knots on the table. Laughter and clatters that were all around were comforting...people were having a great time. The air was light and tension free. Whatever Dumbledore had said worked.
Dumbledore...
Elizabeth gazed at the High Table for the first time during the feast. She noted one missing chair. There was no one with twinkling eyes and an understanding wink in the middle seat...where the best is always placed. On the night of her judgment, Dumbledore was gone.
She eyed someone's watch fiercely. Feeling uncomfortable, he moved his arm under the table. No worries. It was time.
Elizabeth closed the Great Hall's groaning doors and successful blocked a few accusing stares at her back. Light was dancing fiercely on the tapestries, making the Griffin look alive and waging a war with the dark.
The autumn air loomed in the castle. No, she was being foolish. In castles, the coolness of the stone was always dominant. That's what gave castles their power. The indifference! The way a chill awakes that hidden part of you as the adrenaline grows with the realization of your smallness and the secrets that do not include you. The stone doesn't need you, doesn't care for you, and won't remember you. You want it to remember you...you want to become a part of it as it will remain long after you are gone.
Elizabeth wandered around while vaguely wondering how she would know where to go. She lost track of the numerous corridors she had traveled as she just picked a hall and trudged blindly forward. Her legs were starting to grow sore. Elizabeth wrapped her scarf around her shivering shoulders. At one point, the air misted when she breathed. The cold in her limbs still hadn't vanished.
Hurrying by a window, she spotted the blots of black that the lake didn't dare reflect. Dementors swarmed around the Forbidden Forest. She thought one lifted it head in response to her stare. Remember me. Elizabeth kept moving.
Then she got her sign at last.
The small light she was granted covered the entire walls except for one place where the light seemed not to be able to touch. That one place had a reddish glaze of its own and...Is it alive? The red mixed with flecks of gold and danced feverishly in a whirlwind like miniscule pixies. Garnet time...with some of me in it...forever...It was contents from the mirror. She couldn't help but touch the spot. The tip of her finger seemed to have departed to the in-between.
"Lumos."
With her wand, it was easy to spot the trail his fingers had traced. She tried not to laugh hysterically in her fear. She giggled a bit and covered her shaking lips. As she had traveled, Elizabeth had begun to believe she would not know where to go and not meet him at all. Something burned in her mind. How did he know to start the path here of all the halls in the school? How had he known I would come here?
Elizabeth followed the winding trail diligently; she tried to find the flecks flung all about as if the artist had undergone several bouts of mood swings. Finally, the trail ended at an apparent dead-end. Now what?! She stepped back to study the obstacle and saw the light from her wand slipped underneath and in between the stones. Apparently, there was something behind the wall. Elizabeth felt along the cracks in the hope of finding the door when a hissing resounded from all around her. She jumped, expecting to find a deadly serpent near her feet. Nothing there...the hissing filled her head, and she became dizzy in response. Not from fear but from something else...some part of her had clicked in response to the sound. Her left hand bit in response. Everything was a reaction to a cause chosen for her.
When she regained herself, the obstacle was gone and the path only traveled by one before her was revealed. The stones were black as though covered in ink by the moody artist. No light at all...Elizabeth kneeled on the floor, hitting her forehead with her fist. WHY DID HE?! HOW COULD HE?! I'll show him!! This won't stop me.
"Lumos!" she called into the darkness. Nothing...the faint light at the tip of her wand was extinguished instantly. Something was holding light away. She bit her lip and pushed herself forward. She ran on shaky legs wildly through the dark. She shrieked as hit the wall and guided herself with her frantic hands. Teeth bared, her breathing transformed into a battle cry, and she couldn't form a coherent thought. Don't touch me! Elizabeth felt as she pounded the stone that the corridor winded upward so she figured she would end up in a tower of some sort. She was right.
An empty tower with a few green chairs placed haphazardly on a rug of green and silver bound and winding together...the wind hissed angrily through the open window and the almost dead fire crackled in protest. Something was in this room. A presence...not him...something older...her hairs stood up as a flow of...magic hit her skin...it was magic! It gave her the same feeling as when she flew the bed. Her magic had warmed her inside like a thousand candles burning. This was everywhere; she breathed it in.
Approaching the wind and fighting the breeze, a wide-eyed Elizabeth saw that the mystery tower faced the opposite of Gryffindor's Tower. Elizabeth froze, almost falling out the window. She gripped the seal tightly as the realization hit her. I never saw a tower from the Common Room or my dorm or any room in the school. ON THE GROUNDS...NOTHING! What plane of existence had she traveled to? Was this something like the in-between? AM I STUCK IN NOTHINGNESS?!
"Don't be a fool. It's a Shielding Spell cast by one of the greatest wizards in history, Salazar Slytherin." Murmuring...drowning...
She spun around with her wand raised. The room was empty. What?! He was all around her. At any moment, he could strike.
"Quite impressive, isn't it? Imagine how vast his power was...and is that his spells stood through time. Can't you feel it...his power now in this very room? I doubt someone like you can comprehend the magnitude...and that power flows throughout his blood. One can almost say he's immortal."
"Quit playing around and s-show yourself!"
Elizabeth wished her voice hadn't cracked at that critical moment. He showed himself indeed...right in front of her. She screamed in shock; suddenly, the emptiness was filled and he was only an inch away, towering over her. He reached out, tapping her forehead sharply, and a jolt tinged in her head. Her breath caught frantically as she tried to learn how to breathe the new air.
She shoved him back fiercely, eager to put to space between them, when she hit nothingness for real. She had backed into the space of the window and lost her balance.
Clinging to nothing with desperate hands, Elizabeth saw the grounds looming down below. In the time it took for half her flailing body to get out of the window, the Dementors had massed at the bottom, looking upward and waiting. But the impact never came...
A large hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to her feet and away from the window. On a whim, he let go suddenly, and she hit the floor with a thud.
That hurt! Wait! He can touch me even if I'm not in-between!
"You are...in-between. I have the power to bring you here anytime I desire to." His voice overflowed with arrogance. Smirking at her, he leaned against the wall and awaited her response.
She had a response alright!
"Oh, you think you have power, do you?! All you seem to be able to do is wander about in-between and stand in the halls staring at people! You're a big...nothing, that's what you are!" What are you?
Hatred...his eyes once burned with indifference and superiority...now they...such hatred...
He grew rigid by the wall as he stared down at her. She lowered her gaze to his hands that he had clenched in fury. He bleeds black! A black liquid flowed between his fingers and dripped on the stone. In a dark flash, he came towards her, face barely illuminate by the flames. His eyes she saw perfectly clearly, a light of their own by power. Tyger, Tyger burning bright...blood and ink...
She scootched back as far as she could and her back hit a cold, unyielding wall.
"W-what are you going to do?"
"Everyone chooses their own destiny. That's the law of the universe. You
just make sure you choose one that keeps you alive."
Dean Koontz's Intensity
"Let your music speak of fear, overwhelming child's fear, fear that the
entire fabric of things is rent and will never be whole."
Anne Rice's Violin
"If something is precious to you...no matter how painful or how hard to
seems, no matter what it may cost you, you have to hang in there...and protect it with all the strength you've got, even at the risk of your own life! If you do that, even if you die in the attempt, at least the world
will be left with the proof that a man worth living had died!"
Naruto ch. 20
"Being attached to your government, your clan, and your name...Those are your
limits, and condemning yourself to your 'vessel' is detestable...and you can't see...that to fear and hate those who don't know...is foolish! Because clans and the like...are only attached to the insignificant things and lose
sight of what is truly important. Real change cannot be created with
regulations and limitations...or skeletal frames of imagination and
premonitions..."
Uchiha Itachi
Naruto Ch. 222
"Dawn in my soul
A bit of sun for each home
A bit of light for everyone
Under the canopy, a leaf trembles
And the dew remembers the clouds
And the earth exhales a huge wind
And life shivers, shivers
Kite of my childhood
Fragile hope hanging in the sky
Hearts open, human abodes
In a world where no one is excluded."
Cyclo
Chapter 6: Boundaries
As if in a trance, Elizabeth slowly wiped the table clean of its message. She let her hands flow in a circular motion even when those ominous, ashy letters were gone. What do I do now?
She brought the covers to her chin, rocking back and forth.
If I meet Him, I will cross a threshold. The strange thought rang true. She would be abandoning her old life to the point where she could turn around and gaze back but never step foot on that familiar soil again; he was death...the boy who carried death around in his eyes. What are the consequences of confronting such a being! How silly!
She had to get up and move around to stop feeling so cold. Rubbing her hands swiftly across her shaking shoulders, she shuffled to the middle of the ivory (writing on marble) room and began to pace. Why am I even considering...
That was obvious. Even if she defied him and didn't meet him face-to-face, she would see him again. One of her most precious possessions is between his spider-like fingers; he carried the fragile chain with those cold hands that had mocked her and pushed a man to his death. If she didn't meet the shadow boy, what would he do with her cinnamon-eyed, beautiful mother's necklace? She had to face him...but Elizabeth Faye Potter was terribly frightened.
The images of last night were stored up as if it had all been another nightmare. After the jolting message in the dust, she was wide awake. Smith waving his arms as if trying to fly...that boy's face is so apathetic yet his eyes shone with ruddy joy at the picture he creates. The shadow boy was like a backdrop of an ancient, black-and-white movie. It was unnatural and so out-of-place that it became something horrible, a force of its own in the blurry motion picture. He was unfathomable; simply picturing that tall figure made her head terribly numb and her breath hitch. To face him after she had witnessed what he was capable of...
What is HE? That he can exist in-between where ghost can't even tread?
She could go to Dumbledore right this minute and tell him what really happened on those steps in-between. Dumbledore would forgive her if she simply explained herself-
No...she had chosen this path. She had not told Dumbledore and Tonks about the boy; she lied through her teeth. He just slipped... this was her problem and her demon to face. But she had so many to face! It was apparent that Smith and the hostile shade were not on the same side. The boy was angry at Smith for...What? Beating him to the punch? Smith was going to take me away when the spirit had something else in mind! The first time I saw him in the hall...that cold look of intention through burning eyes.
Smith spoke of something greater he was apart of...Julia said the Death Eaters weren't working alone. Dumbledore claimed that lot was mislead. All the things that had happened since she came back...She had to think what the state of things would be if she hadn't escaped and forced her way unintentionally into the Wizarding World. Would they have come for her? Or would the Death Eaters have remained silenced... no shadow boys looming in the school halls or Thorns piercing the sky? Would the world her father fought to protect still be preserved?
Elizabeth sat down hard by the corner of hospital bed, twirling her hair between her fingers nervously.
How does it all connect? How does it all connect to me?
She was being vain. Everything might not have to do directly with her...she was just only nearly abducted! She searched the illuminated night sky for some sign.
Was present at Diagon Alley for the attack! I'm here at Hogwarts where everything's falling apart, where worlds are colliding through mirrors and death is here!
Was she to blame for the sickness among the animals, Hermione's injury, the loss of Michael's little sister, and her own parent's...
You were born in a time of darkness. Hadn't Dumbledore said that? This is overwhelming!
How had it come to be this way, her future and dreams? Or was her future locked in the past? She was being encircled, heavily woven into these layers of plots. If one enemy didn't get her, the other would. Closing her weary eyes in frustration, she knew she had no way of figuring out anything. If she kept her eyes closed, she would picture her mother's face that burned on the back of her eyelids. Elizabeth opened her eyes to look upon the Forbidden Forest.
The last fading image of her mother and the life that radiated from her was a painful reminder of what could have been. She so wanted to remember more but that chapter of her life was written in invisible ink forever. She had no clues to what had happened.
Then again...her brother!
Her brother...Smith threw those piercing words. Elizabeth saw her face reflected in the sparkling window with her features alight with the possibility. She scanned the horizon and did not see the forest. Now she could focus her jumbled thoughts.
Are you alive out there, little brother? Are you afraid and alone? Don't worry and don't be afraid. I promise I will come for you. I will find a way! No force on Earth could keep me away!
This oath she shall live by. Thank you, brother. I don't even know your name. This oath gave her strength even in the face of that force...whatever it is that lurks out there waiting. She could face that boy.
Use the book.
She blinked, hand flying up to her mouth. What part of her had that thought emerged from? She had forgotten that cursed thing! She had promised herself she would never look at that ugly book because of what it made her do; it made her take—
I must be tired. A raggedy, old book controlling people? But that symbol...
She would look at the book first thing in the morning. Perhaps it would clue her in on exactly what was going on here.
Elizabeth perched herself upon the window seal to watch the sun rise. The warm light seeped in the night sky, mixing into a royal purple. The forest grew friendlier; the lingering fireflies made the trees dance as if Christmas had come early.
The crisp, autumn air was sinking in the glass and stone. She laid her aching forehead against the glass while smiling at her mirror self who offered her company. Who knows? With what I've been through with mirrors, another Elizabeth might exist on the other side of the glass. Hopefully she's had a better go of things. Perhaps not...she has a scar, I think, on her forehead...like lightning...poor thing...just like dad...
Someone was shaking her shoulder.
"What are you doing out of bed, Ms. Potter? You could catch your death! Don't you feel the cold for heaven's sake?!" Someone was hissing at her.
Madam Pomfrey was not happy at all. Elizabeth had to admire her composure.
"Is it time for me to go now?'
The nurse looked her over.
"You mustn't push yourself so! You've had a very traumatic experience. I can't even imagine how you're moving about." Madam Pomfrey allowed a small smile to grace her face. "You've got strength, that much is clear. Now just hold still while I examine your arm."
Elizabeth fidgeted anxiously for she wanted to be able to look at that book before anyone else was awake in the dormitory.
"You've healed beautifully, dear. Now—!" The nurse halted, looking puzzled. Her sharp eyes raked Elizabeth's hairline. Her mouth formed an o as she moved her hand slowly to brush back Elizabeth bangs.
Elizabeth moved her head back quickly, suspicious of the woman's behavior.
"I'm...sorry, dear. I thought for a moment I saw...it was just a trick of the light on my old eyes," she laughed nervously as if trying to find reassurance and banish the impossible. Madam Pomfrey cradled her arms.
"You may go, Ms. Potter."
Elizabeth pounded up the stairs with the feeling that if she didn't fetch the book, the opportunity would be lost forever. It would be flung out the window or off a balco—
She stopped by the door to brace herself to fulfill her goal. Please let no one be awake to question me about Smith...please!
"Tacitus."
It felt odd to be sneaking into one's own room but stranger things had happened. She tapped her trunk gently which opened with a click and felt along the rim for that tell-tell bulge. Ah hah!
She carefully picked up the seeming fragile book that was already losing some of its scales. It was a strangely bewitching item in the morning rays, dancing with unnamable colors. It reminded her of the sun rise only more magical. And in the middle of the dancing lights was the symbol she had the misfortune to see so many times. It didn't seem so threatening now. It was actually quite interesting...promising answers to riddles, mysteries, and the answer to everything...she traced the Thorn almost lovingly as if it were her secret that—
"Whatcha doing?" Sandy's voice was thick with sleep. "Didn't you hear that classes were cancelled for today?"
Elizabeth froze as her heart leapt in a sort of guilty dance. She quickly rushed to thrust the book in her bag. She was awake now as if from a deep sleep after being dosed with cold water. That book had done it again and she had allowed it.
The freckled girl struggled to be free from her covers to get a better look at the noisemaker. Her wide eyes grew even wider.
"Elizabeth!" she squeaked. The red-head motioned frantically for her to lower her voice.
Sandy leapt out of bed, rummaged through her pile of robes on her trunk, and thrust a flowing, silver cloak into Elizabeth's sweaty hands which instantly became invisible. All the while she kept talking excitedly and motioning with her hands.
"I tried to find you...when Hogwarts was under attack. All I found by the Oddball was your cloak. I thought you were dead or something-for you to leave your dad's cloak behind!"
Or something...her mind was still floundering from that bloody book. What is this?
"My invisibility cloak," Elizabeth muttered.
Sandy looked surprised.
"Of course it is." She sat back on her feet to study her shaken friend. "What happened to you anyway? I heard that there was...a man who fell, who died...'
Elizabeth didn't look up.
Sandy continued hesitantly. "Someone told me that you...appeared out of thin air. But I had your cloak so I knew that wasn't why you were invisible. Do you know some sort of charm?" She looked expectantly at Elizabeth who didn't respond as she was still studying the supple material in her hands while not really seeing the cloak at all.
"Um...I had a brush with McGonagall...knocked her flat actually. She saw the cloak. I'm sorry! I was just so panicked, you know, I didn't know what to do. But McGonagall didn't even confiscate it so I guess you can keep your dad's cloak!" Sandy finished with a grin.
Elizabeth got to her feet and grabbed her bag. Sandy hastily stood up.
"So where are you going? Professor Dumbledore said to stay in the House Dorms until he summoned us for the school meeting, you know, in the Great Hall. He's going to talk to us about...all the loony stuff that's been going on lately."
"It's a good thing I have my cloak then. Thanks for taking care of it for me. That means a lot."
She turned abruptly to leave but stopped as a thought dawned on her.
"Are the others okay? Michael and Daniel?"
"Y-yeah! Michael was really worried about you last night. He was freaking out about what could have happened and not watching after you better."
Elizabeth clasped the door handle tightly, wanting just to get out of that room before that other girls woke up and started interrogating her.
"You aren't going to say anything? You can talk to me. You know you can trust me, right? I totally understand if you don't want to talk about last night. That's okay. But I do hope it's not because you don't think I'm not your friend and that I wasn't worried about you!"
Elizabeth gazed levelly at the concerned girl. What should I say? She had already made her decision on the way to the dorm to keep her distance from her peers because they might get involved in all the layers and get hurt or flung off the sta— Everyone around Potters die...obviously.
Silence that eagerly waited the fall on the chopping block hung in the air. Sandy's face showed more alarm and hurt every second.
"What happened last night...was really bad. I don't think...you don't have the mental capacity to understand. Heck, you'll probably blab anything I tell you to the whole entire school. That's how much I trust you, gossip queen." Her voice was carefully chilled but quite scalding.
Sandy stepped back, her face hardening.
"Is that so, Miss-I-Have-The-Personality-Of-Dry-Rot?! My dad was right about you. Everything bad that's happening...it's all because of you, isn't it?!"
Hearing those words spoken so directly cut deep and stuck because deep down she had the terrible feeling they were not off the mark.
"If you and your dear dad believe that, then you'd best keep you distance then."
Finnigan opened her mouth to retort. She scrambled out the door so fast she was sure the rug might have caught on fire.
That's that.
Elizabeth's footfalls echoed loudly in her ears. She felt it happening...she felt her foundation shift. How very cold she had been. Doesn't she understand? Why do they...and what about dry rot?! Oh! Never mind. They were at risk around her because of her name and who she is. How clear her path was becoming. She was forging her path well. It was not her fault that it had already been chosen by a cold touch, a sharp Thorn, and burning eyes.
What if she had been with me when Smith grabbed me?! What if Michael or Daniel had...
Her method was in the best interest of everyone. Then why did Elizabeth feel like she had lost something special by throwing it away? Easy come, easy go. She had only just met Sandy for Cripes sake! She couldn't allow anyone to get hurt for her sake. She was going to face everything that came at her starting with that murderous shade.
Okay, priorities! Got to hit the library. Check out the book. The sign...find out what it means. Research what that guy could possibly be and figure out how to defend yourself if it comes down to a fight. And yearbooks...loads of yearbooks! Got to find out who I'm dealing with!
She checked to see that the invisibility cloak was secure. Her father left her with possibly the mot vital tool of her life. It meant freedom from prying eyes and the questions to come.
As a child...no, she wasn't a child anymore. Never had she felt like she was. During her time at the orphanage, although Elizabeth didn't acknowledge it, she escaped through fantasy and always hoped for tomorrow to be better. Maybe her father would appear on the doorstep after coming back from some great Battle and collect her in his arms. Her memory would come back; for awhile, such hope was easy and natural.
Hogwarts seemed to stand for that lost idea that her life would be better in this magical world so far away from the dull Muggle orphanage. Here she had family. Here she found pieces of her parents; her father's cloak was supposed to be a promise of security. Now the heirloom had become a tool for survival. Now Elizabeth wasn't looking for a way out from her problems and the whispers of the past still touching her. She was looking for a way in and a conclusion.
Her invisibility cloak meant freedom from time where for a few minutes one can observe life...maybe see patterns. Most of all, to Elizabeth mind, it meant unlimited access to any book I need...
Elizabeth took off the cloak on the second floor near the girl's bathroom and made her way down to the Great Hall. She had begun to think maybe she should show up for the meeting to hear what Dumbledore could possibly say to calm people down.
A group of older students about in their fifth year gathered in the main corridor by the suits of armor. Their rallying point was a tall, sandy- haired by who appeared completely aware of the attention he was receiving. Elizabeth had almost wandered into their sight.
"So you saw the Potter girl push that man, Greengrass?"
Elizabeth quickly ducked behind a gargoyle.
"She was standing exactly where he would have fallen from. Poof! Just appeared out of nowhere! Dumbledore didn't even spot her before! Must have run right through them! Now that's some powerful magic. I couldn't get see her close up because Professors and some violet-haired witch were swarming about. But I did spot that blood was everywhere! I asked McGonagall, I did, who exactly the man was because as a Prefect, I thought I should know! And the old biddy wouldn't tell me anything. And this meeting...I doubt old Dumbledore's going to say much except the basics."
"Basics?"
"You know, how we'll all in good hands and to trust the professors...that whole bit. First off they've got to protect Potter. That's why no one from the Ministry or Daily Prophet came and that's why we're all in the dark. I personally don't feel comfortable in a school that hides murders!"
"Or murderers?" a girl with a dark braid and equally dark scowl muttered.
"Wait a minute. We don't know what happened. It doesn't mean that Potter murdered the guy," a shorter boy said. Thank you!
'We never will either! Stuff like this has happened before at Hogwarts. You know when? When Harry Potter was a student here! They covered up for him too. The Triwizard Tournament was here, right here at Hogwarts. Potter and another kid, Digget...no, wait...it was Diggory...Diggory disappeared during the final competition...also into thin air. And guess what? Potter appeared later and so did Diggory except Diggory was most definitely dead. And before that, a lot of kids were Petrified during his second year...something that only happened once before sixty or seventy years ago. I bet his grandfather was here then or something. They say he's a hero and all but why do you think that You-Know-Who wanted to kill him so bad? He must've seen harmless Harry Potter as a threat, maybe as the up-and-coming Dark Lord. Besides, how could a baby defeat the most powerful Dark Wizard in centuries if he didn't possess some kind of power? Then he disappears of the face of the earth for real with his wife popping up dead! I don't care if that Potter girl did anything to the mystery man. I just think that it's not a coincidence that she was involved. One thing's for sure! Mark my words, when a Potter is at this school, no one's safe. We'll be lucky if the school remains standing at this rate!"
Elizabeth had heard enough. Walking silently the other way, hand dragging against the wall, she decided to skip the bloody meeting no matter what anyone said. She'd go to McGonagall and say she was ill and in desperate need to have a lie down in her room. When everyone's in the Great Hall, she'll sneak in the library and investigate. Yes, that's what she'll do. Halloween was tomorrow after all.
Elizabeth knocked softly on Professor McGonagall's door.
"Enter," a sharp voice responded on the other side. McGonagall's office was extremely tidy and Red.
McGonagall looked up sternly but her face softened considerably when she realized who had stopped by.
"What is it, Potter? Are you alright?"
Elizabeth felt sorry she had to concern the woman more, but it was necessary if she was going to get out of the ominous school meeting full of stares and awkward questions. She put on her best gloomy face and most pitiful voice.
"Professor, I'm fine... I'm just really tired. I didn't sleep too well in the Hospital Wing. I don't think I can eat anything either. Might I remain in my room for the night to have a lie-down?"
McGonagall hesitated, pursing her thin lips tightly. "Tonight's gathering is very important to prevent any misunderstandings among the students. I know the Headmaster feels that you should be present."
Elizabeth's face must have paled very quickly. Her heart was in her shoes. She didn't realize how anxious she was about facing her peers! She was so certain she could get out of it! Bloody hell!
The aged witch in front of her was taken back at her rapidly changing appearance.
"Perhaps...it's best you rest tonight. I shall inform the Headmaster of your absence."
Elizabeth smiled weakly at the kind, wonderful professor. She had been spared! She turned on her heels to go and was almost out the door.
"Oh, and Potter...I expect you to remain in your room and no more nightly escapades...especially now."
She flushed scarlet. "Yes, Professor," she muttered.
Elizabeth wandered down the hall, taking her time before reaching her Common Room. She was going so slowly that it seemed she was standing still. Finally, she gave it up and leaned against the chilly wall to eye the dancing flames in the torches.
Elizabeth honestly did feel ill. She wasn't so proud of her exchange of words with her concerned friend that morning. Deep down, Elizabeth believed she had done the correct thing to ensure the safety of her classmates. She saw hanging on others and maybe getting them killed was cowardly or selfish. Of course, she was right. What kind of Gryffindor would I be then? If her decision was so right, why did she keep replaying their fight in her head like a broken record? Why did she feel she had done something horrible?
And then, there was her lack of bravery. The episode in McGonagall's office proved beyond a doubt that she was afraid of her own classmates and what they thought of her. What on earth? How can I take care of my problems when I feel so scared?! Scared of being alone? What would my father think of me? She just needed to sit for awhile and collect herself. Sure.
Sitting down and crossing her legs, Elizabeth sorted through her thoughts. It is normal to be afraid; it's what I do while being afraid that matters. Seeing her behavior in that office was a good reflection. She wouldn't hesitate because of fear. She would take on anything no matter how frightened she might be. Elizabeth got to her feet and looked forward to napping a little before hitting the library.
"Elizabeth." A soft voice broke into her thoughts.
Josephine Finch-Fletchley stood nervously a few feet away. Elizabeth couldn't make out her expression in the shadows. Should I just keep moving and ignore her? Before she could make her decision, Josephine began to speak.
"Listen, I...I understand why you acted the way you did this morning. I kind of woke up during the middle of you guys fighting. And, although what you said was kind of mean, I understand why. You don't want anyone to get hurt because of who you are."
Elizabeth didn't know how to respond due to her shock.
"I've felt that way before. You know, when you saved my life...when Lilith Malfoy tried to hurt me. She...thinks I weak, easy to push around. Sometimes, I wish I could be stronger and like somebody else...like you. Then, no one would be hurt for being around me," the girl stammered. "I know that's nothing compared to what happened to you. But...I t-think sometimes we all need to lean on somebody else whom we can trust. If we stick together, we can be strong together...It sounds kind of corny but...what I'm trying to say...you don't have to be alone to be strong or brave. It's not a bad thing to trust somebody else. You were there for me. I can be there for you."
Elizabeth was glad it was dark because she felt tears welling up in her eyes. No body had ever spoken to her like this. Josephine seemed to really understanding her. But! How could she allow this girl to possibly get hurt?! She regained her voice.
"Thank you. I can't tell you...you're the first person to ever truly understand why I..."
She wasn't supposed to be saying that! She was supposed to distance herself as much as possible. But could she...
"Let me help you...I won't question you or hang on you. I just want you to know I'm your friend and you can lean on me if you need to."
She was crying now. Sure, Elizabeth had cried before but not because of what anyone else had said nicely. This was new. Josephine stepped up and put her hand lightly on Elizabeth's arm. Elizabeth quickly regained her composure.
"Thanks...I'm alright, really. And I know you're my friend. I trust you."
Josephine smiled gently. There was a moment of comfortable silence.
"Are you going to the meeting?" Josephine asked. "Want to walk together?"
"I talked to McGonagall, and she said it was a good idea if I remain in the Common Room." Not exactly the truth but very close and brushing it.
"Well, I tell you how it goes, okay. Get some rest and I'll talk to you later."
As they went their separate ways, they were still connected by their talk. Elizabeth knew she would have to protect Josephine, but she also knew she wasn't so alone. She had a friend.
Elizabeth waited until the Common Room was empty. She would wait for about ten minutes and then attack the library.
Now that she thought about it she wished she had told Dumbledore about the shadow boy. Maybe she made a big mistake. HE knew I wouldn't tell anyone. Now I'm going to look like a liar. But... Dumbledore will understand. Maybe Tonks would understand.
Elizabeth knew she had to focus. She might as well make good use of her time.
She would tell Dumbledore in detail about the murder of Zacharias Smith afterwards.
Picture Hogwarts Library without Madam Pince clicking about. Think paradise.
Elizabeth crept in silently, looking around at the empty librarian desk, an once-in-a-lifetime sight she assumed. Heck, she would be the only one to ever see that!
For starters, she wanted to look at the yearbooks. That boy's face burned in her mind, and Elizabeth wouldn't be able to think clearly until she knew his name. This will take ages!
For a good half-an-hour, Elizabeth poured feverishly over every annual she could get her hands on. Her legs were numb from sitting on them. Stretching, she grabbed an annual randomly from the third shelf. Wonder what house shadow boy was in?
Naturally, the name Slytherin popped into her mind in a flash. He did kill somebody after all! On second thought, would a Slytherin or Ravenclaw be stupid enough to get trapped in-between worlds? Probably not, but she was no expert on the matter at hand.
She opened the yellowing book to the middle and her heart skipped a beat as she saw her surname. James Harold Potter. The very same James who loved Lily, etched on the back of the phoenix.
For a moment, as she eyed the man under the picture reverently, her mind played a dirty trick on her; she thought he looked a lot like shadow boy. Her mouth dropped. No way! She calmed down as she noticed major differences between the two faces and wanted to give herself a good kick in the rear. Mistaking my grandfather for that heartless, cold-!
No! Shadow boy had a leaner, more structured, somber face and narrower eyes. A face that contained utter seriousness and eyes that gazed at another place with his mind on something else in the future or the past...he was a wanderer through time. He even had darker hair, a shade of midnight black and ink, and he definitely didn't look like a guy who needed glasses. Though he looked mischievous, the young man on the page possessed a kinder face that didn't seem able to give such cold looks as the shade did. James Potter was much too ruffled and untidy looking to be a sinister guy.
Becoming gloomy, Elizabeth swiftly shut the annual and carefully placed the book back in its proper place. She consciously searched for a yearbook of a later date and one placed further away from the sacred shelf. The forties...
She picked the one in the middle for the middle was always where the best books were placed as a rule and following that same rule, she opened the book in the middle with gusto... Elizabeth Potter was horrified. She had never seen such an act of careless hate in her life! The face on the middle of the page was completely scratched out and covered with ink; the name had been scratched and torn as well. All that was left of this memory was three letters: Tho...for what...maybe Thomas, but how the heck was she to be sure?! It scared her how much anger was directed...who on earth would bother to do something so petty?
It felt creepy to beholding a book full of bad memories so she quickly discarded the book. She didn't bother to look in any more yearbooks. Something told her she had found shadow boy although some fool denied her the knowledge of his name. Thanks a lot!
Elizabeth was terribly frustrated. All her efforts were in vain! In an act of rebelliousness against the way things were preceding, she barged into the Restricted Section with no idea where to start. Rather violently, she got on her knees and started skimming the names of the books with her hand.
Hands of Fate: Heritage of Magic Today fell in her lap with a thump, spraying dust everywhere. Elizabeth couldn't hold back a cough as the dust invaded her nose. The huge book (she barely was able to lift it) was fairly worn and musty smelling with some pages missing and stains here and there. The old parchment seemed perfectly harmless and here it was in the Restricted Section.
Strange... Elizabeth quickly repeated the silencing charm. She had heard the Restricted Books were apt to scream at you. But the book didn't wiggle or jump out of her hands in protest. The Hands of Fate had no wards or charms at all. On the inside of the cover was a curious silver seal that read Forbidden by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, Dolores Jane Umbridge. High Inquisitor, that sounds rather cheap. Was she just highly inquisitive?
The runes young witches and wizards study today date back to the Paleolithic era, the first dawning of magical mastery. The divination and system of runes were assumedly founded by the Volsungr, an ancient tribe from the North. The word rune literally means secret, a translation stemming from the discovery of spiritual foreknowledge in the supernatural realm. As runes were adopted by the Anglo-Saxon alphabet, the system was known nominally as FUThark. The importance of such a written system is extraordinary. In the ancient evolutions of magic, written symbols held more power than other Wizarding forms and were based on the symmetry and flow of nature. Such practices sprung forth from two cultural points that are related by the Iberian race, the earliest magical wielders. One main source is Egypt (see Cult of the Dead pg. 149). The other source brewed right in the British Isles before the Roman Conquest (also see Horde of the Dead pg. 150). Each rune has its own magical properties and can be joined in a variety of ways for various needs. The blank stone or Wyrd is the most foreboding rune as it indicates events out of one's control and left for fate to decide. The most common methods in rune usage are a magical talismans and/or a scope to focus magical energy to perform extremely difficult spells. All know runes are listed below:
Elizabeth scanned rapidly with her finger across the pages, occasionally lifting her bangs to see. There... She blinked. Someone had circled various runes boldly with handwriting in the margins. Handwriting she had seen only just last night! HE read this book once when he was alive. Elizabeth ran her hand across his writing in order to confirm the markings on the page. She felt a little ill when she saw he had circle the Thorn. She eyed his words warily as if they were liable to spring up and attack. His elegant hand wrote the word Secundae.
Thorn Thurisaz Thorn Bush (pronounced as thin)
The Thorn is literally a written symbol meaning troll, ogre, demon, giant, and the thorn bush. It's actually meaning in divination is ambiguous and heavily debated. But all authorities agree that this rune has highly negative magical properties. This rune's patron god is Loki, the shape- shifter and trickster. This demon-rune has the ability to combat any other runes' properties though eihwaz and pethro are highly powerful against it. The thorn's most common use in the earliest years was to invoke dark spirits from the underworld. The rune is generally regarded as a tool to the forbidden art of necromancy. This rune has shape-shifting properties that are drawn from its ogre heritage. The possible necromancy connections associated with this rune has made many wizards hesitant to use it. The only two supposed broad users of this infamous sign were by a branch of Celtic wizards whose practices are for the most part unknown and this division's descendents.
The latter group who wields the Thorn as a mark is stated to not even exist by the majority in the Ministry of Magic. However, many records mention that the Thorn has been seen on the dawn of every new decade on the eve of Samhain (further connected with the Cult of the Dead) and often in between during times of turmoil. During the reign of Grindlewald, eye witnesses say the Thorn rose above the besieged Ministry when the Dark One almost took control. The Thorn also contributed to Grindlewald's defeat; supposedly, the sign illuminated his location several times until Auror A--- --.
The name had been marked through violently with a quill. Three guesses whose quill it was...
It has been said by the more superstitious who believe in this nameless group's existence that throughout the time line of man the Thorn- wielders played a major part in the formation of the modern magical world after the Roman Conquest of Britannia. To sum it up, these wizards are the hands of fate. Of course, this group might not even exist and the Thorn has been used lightly by troublemakers to stir up the community. The Ministry of Magic has heavily investigated any possible leads and claims the rumors to be, to put it simply, "rubbish". If this group does exist, it is thought to be heavily malevolent and threatening to the general good due to its rumored dedication to the Wyrd and supernatural even demonic forces. Furthermore, the possibility of the Thorn-wielders using necromancy and corpse-herding (an ancient practice formed in the Orient) to contact such forces may be close to the reality of their arts.
Do they think its rubbish now? After what happened to my family?! And what the heck is this whole cult of the dead thing?
Elizabeth flipped frantically to page 150 only to discover that these pages had been ripped out. All that was left were the jagged pieces. Oh, that's just great...
But there is still pethro. Finally I'll learn what that stupid word means!
Pethro Fruit Tree
This rune is particularly difficult to decipher, contributing to its common name as a rune of riddles, mysteries, and things existing not as they seem. Its ethereal magical harness on improving the mind has also given it the name 'Rune of Revelation'. A literal translation in the Anglo- Saxon alphabet can range from hearth or fruit tree. It's a rune of rebirth (relating to the Phoenix properties of healing and Divination) and magical powers on earth that are married into nature. That's why it's most likely meaning is fruit tree; fruit tree could be synonymous with elder 'The Witch's Tree', a most sought after tool in difficult potions and in some rare cases, wand forging. The said wand would be quite useful in all branches of magic especially the healing arts.
Elder...my wand!
Elizabeth examined her wand suspiciously. What are the chances?!
She couldn't bring herself to dislike her magical wand because its connection to Pethro and Smith was something it couldn't help. The fact that this wand was made for her only and vice versa seemed like a trick lot of fate. This discovery or 'revelation' as the case may be served to enforce her fear that somehow she was behind the horrid events descending on the Magical World.
Wait! Pethro (elder)...my wand works well against the Thorn! That has to be a good thing, right!
Her hope was renewed. What else works against the Thorn? Eihwaz, was it?
Eihwaz Yew (winter tree) (pronounced 'yet')
This rune is also key to rebirth but not in the sense of rising. Eihwaz means the actual death of the life cycle like degeneration and rebirth. That is why in Celtic tales the gather of dead souls Odin was patron of this rune. Eihwaz works opposite of Pethro as the causer of death. Yew is quite effectively used as a main ingredient of fatal poison and permanent sleeping drafts like the Draught of Living Death. In a standard rune- reading, this rune might mean a tragic past or emotional problems linked to family.
Ydalir, the birth place of one of the Unforgivable Curses as well as Legilimency, was an ancient hall that is now Unplottable. Its location has never been recorded, and this foundation of magical heritage exists only in the ancient writings. According to the myths, Ydalir was built entirely of yew and the Eihwaz was the key to most of the magic performed there. Yet, for all yew's negative uses, this wood as well as the rune can be used as a charm against necromancy and invoked curses. Any wand with this wood would be excellent at magical defense.
Well, that's all fine and dandy. But I still don't know anything I can really use!
Elizabeth almost put the book back but instead placed it in her bag. She figured no one would miss it. It might come in handy. Shadow boy had certainly found the book interesting. Perhaps he still has the torn pages with him.
Her hand grazed the dry scales, and she yielded and took out the Thorn. She opened it to the middle. What the... The writing was in another language! She laughed. What a day!
The lines were all waving and sharp. The 'words' all seemed to flow together and had no divisions. Basically, it looked like the writing of a two-year old on a sugar high.
Looking at the writing made her feel weird. Cold...
Harry, oh gods, what's happening?! Stay here! NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE US HERE! WE NEED YOU! STAY AND PROTECT YOUR CHILDREN FOR-
So cold...
Who the de- Smith flying...crack...Westley...he's coming up here...oh please, mum...make him stay!! And the cold...touch in the dark...
Something dry and rattling through the air, something draining, feeding in the air...
Her vision was getting fuzzy...she was going down- pain! In her left hand! Pain dragging her awake! Her body and mind were so cold...something was in the air—in the library! With her now!
Elizabeth fell on her stomach in an attempt to peek under the shelves and to see it before it saw her.
A dark figure, an unnatural one, who doesn't even touch the ground and doesn't need to walk the earth while rasping and searching! A hand shows under its cloak.
TOUCH!
That hand belonged to a skeleton; it was a hand of something that rotted too long and had been forgotten under black, mossy water. It drew in another rasping breath, and she drowned in the coldness.
MOVE, YOU STUPID GIRL! Someone, some guy hissed at her. A cold voice... Her left hand throbbed and became hot as though a hot poker was being pressed on her skin.
I CAN'T!!
She lurched forward on all fours while trying to hold on to the shelves and tons of books hit the floor. Something changed in the air; she felt motion in the air and heard a sudden whoosh. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and it was behind her. Elizabeth was pushed to her feet with elder in her throbbing hand and almost slipped on the books that lay everywhere trying to trip her up. She thought she saw the whole shelf collapse. She whipped around quickly, but it was all in slow motion. Pitch black was in front of her with its hands reaching and wanting to drag her into the black water where it had rotted and been forgotten. Be forgotten with me...to die is to live... But that wasn't the worst thing that happened. In that time of need, Elizabeth Potter was pushed again to the back of her mind.
Later, when she tried to describe it to herself and figure it out, she would have to say it was like watching a movie in a safe room. You were utterly detached but interesting in the events playing out on the screen.
Her body stood straight up. She was suddenly taller. Her mouth smirked. Her arm raised her wand in her left, marred, burning hand with flourish. A guy's voice, deep and full of murmurs, emerged and bled into her voice. It was a voice of layers.
"Expecto Patronum," the voice said carelessly. Out of the tip of her wand burst a quicksilver serpent.
The pitch black left as it zoomed across the library floor and out the doors. Elizabeth watched as her left hand twirled her wand between her cold yet nimble fingers.
STOP IT!
Her hand threw her wand down violently and when it hit the floor, she was back fully and completely. She was the actress again, and she was being watched by the shadows.
He turned, so gray he almost blended into the wall. She knew where to look because she felt him as she had felt him in her voice and her left hand. In my mind! She was him for that brief moment.
"H-HEY YOU, WAIT! COME B-BACK HERE! TOM!" she croaked after him.
He froze.
She stared a hole in his back. She wished she could move, but she was so tired. Elizabeth was smiling! She was triumphant for she knew his name. He would turn around, come back, and explain himself. He would explain everything. Because she had power, she knew his name.
You can't imagine how offended she was when he disappeared into the grey and took her necklace and pride with him. It was as if she didn't matter at all!
Elizabeth fumed. Then she heard a high pitched voice approaching the library. Incoming!
She scooped up the snake book, bag, and her wand while throwing on her cloak just in the nick of time. Madam Pince stood in the entry, her mouth at her knees. The old, prune-like woman was twitching. Her wrinkled mouth opened wider and wider. It's time for me to go!
Elizabeth edged along the side, eying the woman as if she was trapped in a cage with a cobra. Finally, she reached the door and wobbled towards the staircase. Elizabeth heard Madam Pince's screams all the way to the fifth floor.
Elizabeth couldn't move very fast. Her limbs trembled and were icy-cold. Her knees threatened to give out; her teeth chattered. And in my head...forgotten...Elizabeth felt empty of any happiness. She would never be cheerful again. She didn't have the right for she was a liar.
I protected shadow boy, and he seems to protect me. He is cruel...beautiful and cruel...he saving me to kill me, I know it as sure as I stand here. I felt him. He's bound here by hate and knows nothing else. And he thinks he's a god. I know and can't tell anyone because...it seems like betraying him. Someone I don't know and don't want to know! I have no control anywhere in this world, not even over my own body. She was asleep yet in motion. She was writing a message in dust in a white room. He watched.
He wants to push me; he wants to see how far and how hard he can push until I go over the edge and lose myself... become a shadow of myself. Death came but shadow boy wants me all to himself. With him in that graveyard of light, in shadows!
The murmuring of the waves, lulling and timeless...You belong to me. It's been written in ink, blood, and your flesh. Your name is in my book and has been before you were born. The fools tried to cheat me. Do not try and cheat me, Faye, because I AM.
Elizabeth wondered if her eyes were an ocean of red when he was there in her hands and mind. In that moment, she had ceased to exist. She was locked up somewhere again but not by an arrogant man hording control over young children. Elizabeth had become locked up in her mind which was her only source of freedom. Her freedom was precious to her. He dares?! He thinks he can control me. I'll force him into the shadows for good. I'll fight him!
But how? What could she possibly do? He's playing with her. She needed to confront and talk to him.
But first, Dumbledore...
The phoenix statue served as a reminder to her lost treasure in darkness. Ink, blood, and your flesh...flesh of your flesh.
The scarlet, jeweled eyes of the bringer of rebirth seemed cold...so cold. The phoenix statue was not a promise but a lie. It was now just cold stone. She hoped the man in his office would be kinder.
"Cockroach clusters," Elizabeth said and the bird moved aside. She wobbled up the circling stairway not minding the dark as much while dragging her cloak wearily behind her.
"You dare bring Dementors into this school? ARE YOU MAD?! I thought you were a rational man but your actions today speak of-m..." McGonagall's voice faded behind the Headmaster's.
"It speaks of cowardice. I often wonder, Percival, how you were sorted into Gryffindor judging by your behavior?" Dumbledore sounded sad.
"S-SEE HERE! YOU THINK YOU CAN SPEAK TO ME IN THAT MANNER?! I'M THE MINISTER OF MAGIC! YOU FOOL-who are you to judge me? Have you not seen what has been happening out there to the people? ARE YOU BLIND?! I should think you'd have the sense to see it ...but you are useless now! All you are concerned with now is your position as Headmaster of this school! WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING?!"
"How dare you speak of blind love of positions to Albus?! You of all...YOU HPYOCRITE! You aren't worthy enough to look at this man, you! " McGonagall's voice trembled.
"Minerva, be silent. Let's hear his accusations. He has come along way."
There was the rustling of paper, un-crinkled by trembling and immaculate hands.
"I have here a letter from a terrified student claiming that you and your staff are covering up a murder! That Elizabeth Potter was involved in a death of a man! Now, you know the law! She must be questioned by the Ministry before she is considered innocent! Why did you not come forward with this information?! AND WHERE'S THE BODY?! Y-You're withholding evidence!! I don't know how arrogant...or delusional you've become about your position, Dumbledore, but don't you forget that the only reason you're in the school right now is because no one else is willing to take the job except members of your staff whose character is dubious! I required Dementors to accompany me! FOR MY SAFETY!"
"Dubious indeed...you are being generous, Minister," a snobby voice drawled.
Don't tell me Malfoy's in there!
"BE QUIET, YOU-YOU! YOU RODENT! YOU FERRET-!"
"Minerva! Go reassure the students. Make sure everyone is accounted for."
McGonagall realized what Dumbledore meant and so did Elizabeth. She fumbled with her cloak and staggered back down the stairway just as McGonagall, red- faced and tight-mouthed, opened the door.
"Tacitus," Elizabeth whispered and tried to sprint down the hall. McGonagall paused in concern when she saw the phoenix was moved aside. This gave Elizabeth Potter the precious and rare commodity of time.
Elizabeth threw her bag under her bed with her cloak and hurled herself onto the bed. She had just shut her eyes in what she hoped was the best acted sleep of her career when the door opened and the bed curtains parted.
"Potter, I...what are you still doing in your school uniform?" McGonagall growled. The question was tense and sent by a voice of a woman who was on her last leg.
"Wh-wh-oh! Professor? What time is it?" Elizabeth yawned, stretched her arms, and blinked sleepily as though she was far-sighted. She arranged her face in a dumbfounded expression with her mouth hanging open slightly.
"I see...you make it a habit of sleeping in your uniform, Potter...If you don't mind me saying, I find that highly doubtful."
"I-I don't usually. I guess I just fell to sleep when I reached the bed. Um...did something happen? Where is everyone? Did the meeting last for that long? Gosh."
McGonagall eyed her suspiciously, biting her lip in self-restraint. After a pause...
"There was an incident, and I was sent to check on you. There are...Dementors in Hogwarts at the moment. These creatures are extremely hostile and will attack you even if un-provoked. The Minister brought them with him to investigate the school and the Forbidden Forest. The situation is under control, but it is unlikely your dorm mates will be able to leave the Great Hall for the night. You will stay put and- Potter, are you alright?"
The cold wouldn't seep out of her bones, and she had started to shiver uncontrollably. It was difficult, pretending to be interested in what McGonagall was saying.
"F-Fine. I-I'm perfectly f-f-fine," she chattered. McGonagall reached out to feel Elizabeth's forehead.
"Heavens! Potter, you're like ice!! What on-!"
"I-I don't l-like to fe-el to w-warm at nights s-so Sandy gave me thi-s-s cooling ch-charm, and I guess I-go-t car-ried away!" That was so feeble.
"You had time to cast a second year charm and didn't find the time to take off your uniform." Uh-oh!
"W-Well, a th-third year t-taught me a-and it's su-pposed to active-vate when I c-come to bed." No way is she going to believe that!
"Oh!" McGonagall sounded impressed. "That is a very practical application of the Algorum Charm. Here, Potter. 'Aestus estus!'"
The outside of her body felt warm but on the inside, there was scant improvement. But she controlled her teeth to prevent chattering.
"T-Thank you, Professor."
"Think nothing of it, Potter. I must check on the rest of your classmates now. I will charm the doors to prevent any intrusion from a Dementor. Do not move from this room under any circumstance. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Professor.
The witch was about to turn away but halted, squinting at Elizabeth' forehead with a dawning expression of disbelief. Elizabeth's hand flew up quickly and smoothed down her ruffled bangs.
"Potter..." Her voice was so soft it was almost pleading. No more memories...
"Yes?"
"Nothing. I thought for a moment... It was nothing, dear. Don't concern yourself. You'll be safe in Gryffindor Tower." Elizabeth watched the emerald cloak disappear into the dark.
Elizabeth was in shock. McGonagall was definitely not the type to use the word 'dear'! The matter-of-fact woman almost seemed to doubt herself, and she had left so quickly as though not daring or wanting to stay to confirm her suspicions. Her eyes had reflected fear...no acceptance. The woman was clearly frightened of something....of me?
She had scorned her reflection since Smith had dragged her into the in- between, her blood, and her worst fear of isolation. In-between is where the unwanted ones belong. No world wanted them so they dwell forgotten in- between reflections of those desired worlds. No wonder shadow boy...no wonder Tom is so cold. Elizabeth looked down at her feet in thought as she walked towards the first-year girl's large mirror that they all giggled in front of. Not that she ever had giggled.
She placed her hands on the cold marble and faced herself suddenly with a jerk of her head. Marble...wild and pale...no life in the cheeks...that's not me! That is someone else in there! Something mimicking me, not human with a mask! It's wearing a mask. That's not my face. The girl in the mirror had no expression and no emotion in her eyes. Like plaster... Such indifference! Eyes burning bright... She forced her eyes to focus and relaxed at the familiarity now. Her green eyes...no one else's. Just breathe! This is me all right! A bit untidy with her auburn hair sticking every which way...pale but in a creamy-sort of way with life in her cheeks...a few freckles...and, as much as she hated to admit it, the trademark purple underneath her eyes. But the bags were her's. Nothing had changed at all. She didn't chance a look at her forehead, but everything else was fine. Her forehead would be the same and dotted with one or two freckles. Growing confidant, she lifted up her bangs boldly. Marred...
Just over the left eyebrow was darkened, bruised skin in the shape of a lightening bolt. He had burned her. He had chosen her path. You belong to me.
Halloween was here. She knew nothing.
Elizabeth collapsed after she had dragged herself to her bed. She slept in her uniform. The cold burned now in her bones. The real cold was gone. The afterimage was engrained in her bones. She had no nightmares for once, a rare occasion. Her subconscious must have declared a nightmare a waste as her conscious life was rapidly becoming the biggest night terror of all.
Halloween was here. She did nothing.
Her dorm mates returned in the early morning hours but left. She, the actress, played the role; she slept, and they whispered. Josephine stayed behind. She slept until Josephine left. She discovered toast and jam on the table beside her bed. It tasted stale and bitter in her dry mouth, and she had no water.
Halloween was here. She felt nothing.
Voices outside the door...laughter outside the door...in the Common Room, they played Wizard's Chess and Wizard Snaps. Crack. The crisis was over. The Common Room glowed with warmth. Her room...the mirror shone like ice.
Halloween was here. She was nothing. He was something. She slept.
"Elizabeth." She climbed toward the light. She awoke.
The sun burned angrily on the wall in protest as the night bled into the sky. The last color perhaps that burns and dances in her eyes. Red...
Josephine peeked around the door, flushed from laughter.
"We're heading to the Halloween Feast. Are you coming?"
"Yeah! Hold on for a minute, okay!" I'm acting. Ask me what's wrong, and I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything if just to buy time. I want you to know...if I disappear into the shadows, I want you to know what happened. I don't want to be forgotten.
"Okay. I'll be by the opening."
Elizabeth didn't bother to fix up. She grabbed her bag, her cloak, and her wand. She picked up her grandmother's scarf to keep warm.
As last meals go, it wasn't too shabby. Pumpkin juice, pumpkin pastries, pumpkin pie, and top it all off with Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans! The ceiling was bewitched with the sparkling night sky. Each twinkle was a treasure. The stars formed shapes. She thought she spotted a highly suspicious looking triangle that was shining brightly and laughing too. She studied the knots on the table. Laughter and clatters that were all around were comforting...people were having a great time. The air was light and tension free. Whatever Dumbledore had said worked.
Dumbledore...
Elizabeth gazed at the High Table for the first time during the feast. She noted one missing chair. There was no one with twinkling eyes and an understanding wink in the middle seat...where the best is always placed. On the night of her judgment, Dumbledore was gone.
She eyed someone's watch fiercely. Feeling uncomfortable, he moved his arm under the table. No worries. It was time.
Elizabeth closed the Great Hall's groaning doors and successful blocked a few accusing stares at her back. Light was dancing fiercely on the tapestries, making the Griffin look alive and waging a war with the dark.
The autumn air loomed in the castle. No, she was being foolish. In castles, the coolness of the stone was always dominant. That's what gave castles their power. The indifference! The way a chill awakes that hidden part of you as the adrenaline grows with the realization of your smallness and the secrets that do not include you. The stone doesn't need you, doesn't care for you, and won't remember you. You want it to remember you...you want to become a part of it as it will remain long after you are gone.
Elizabeth wandered around while vaguely wondering how she would know where to go. She lost track of the numerous corridors she had traveled as she just picked a hall and trudged blindly forward. Her legs were starting to grow sore. Elizabeth wrapped her scarf around her shivering shoulders. At one point, the air misted when she breathed. The cold in her limbs still hadn't vanished.
Hurrying by a window, she spotted the blots of black that the lake didn't dare reflect. Dementors swarmed around the Forbidden Forest. She thought one lifted it head in response to her stare. Remember me. Elizabeth kept moving.
Then she got her sign at last.
The small light she was granted covered the entire walls except for one place where the light seemed not to be able to touch. That one place had a reddish glaze of its own and...Is it alive? The red mixed with flecks of gold and danced feverishly in a whirlwind like miniscule pixies. Garnet time...with some of me in it...forever...It was contents from the mirror. She couldn't help but touch the spot. The tip of her finger seemed to have departed to the in-between.
"Lumos."
With her wand, it was easy to spot the trail his fingers had traced. She tried not to laugh hysterically in her fear. She giggled a bit and covered her shaking lips. As she had traveled, Elizabeth had begun to believe she would not know where to go and not meet him at all. Something burned in her mind. How did he know to start the path here of all the halls in the school? How had he known I would come here?
Elizabeth followed the winding trail diligently; she tried to find the flecks flung all about as if the artist had undergone several bouts of mood swings. Finally, the trail ended at an apparent dead-end. Now what?! She stepped back to study the obstacle and saw the light from her wand slipped underneath and in between the stones. Apparently, there was something behind the wall. Elizabeth felt along the cracks in the hope of finding the door when a hissing resounded from all around her. She jumped, expecting to find a deadly serpent near her feet. Nothing there...the hissing filled her head, and she became dizzy in response. Not from fear but from something else...some part of her had clicked in response to the sound. Her left hand bit in response. Everything was a reaction to a cause chosen for her.
When she regained herself, the obstacle was gone and the path only traveled by one before her was revealed. The stones were black as though covered in ink by the moody artist. No light at all...Elizabeth kneeled on the floor, hitting her forehead with her fist. WHY DID HE?! HOW COULD HE?! I'll show him!! This won't stop me.
"Lumos!" she called into the darkness. Nothing...the faint light at the tip of her wand was extinguished instantly. Something was holding light away. She bit her lip and pushed herself forward. She ran on shaky legs wildly through the dark. She shrieked as hit the wall and guided herself with her frantic hands. Teeth bared, her breathing transformed into a battle cry, and she couldn't form a coherent thought. Don't touch me! Elizabeth felt as she pounded the stone that the corridor winded upward so she figured she would end up in a tower of some sort. She was right.
An empty tower with a few green chairs placed haphazardly on a rug of green and silver bound and winding together...the wind hissed angrily through the open window and the almost dead fire crackled in protest. Something was in this room. A presence...not him...something older...her hairs stood up as a flow of...magic hit her skin...it was magic! It gave her the same feeling as when she flew the bed. Her magic had warmed her inside like a thousand candles burning. This was everywhere; she breathed it in.
Approaching the wind and fighting the breeze, a wide-eyed Elizabeth saw that the mystery tower faced the opposite of Gryffindor's Tower. Elizabeth froze, almost falling out the window. She gripped the seal tightly as the realization hit her. I never saw a tower from the Common Room or my dorm or any room in the school. ON THE GROUNDS...NOTHING! What plane of existence had she traveled to? Was this something like the in-between? AM I STUCK IN NOTHINGNESS?!
"Don't be a fool. It's a Shielding Spell cast by one of the greatest wizards in history, Salazar Slytherin." Murmuring...drowning...
She spun around with her wand raised. The room was empty. What?! He was all around her. At any moment, he could strike.
"Quite impressive, isn't it? Imagine how vast his power was...and is that his spells stood through time. Can't you feel it...his power now in this very room? I doubt someone like you can comprehend the magnitude...and that power flows throughout his blood. One can almost say he's immortal."
"Quit playing around and s-show yourself!"
Elizabeth wished her voice hadn't cracked at that critical moment. He showed himself indeed...right in front of her. She screamed in shock; suddenly, the emptiness was filled and he was only an inch away, towering over her. He reached out, tapping her forehead sharply, and a jolt tinged in her head. Her breath caught frantically as she tried to learn how to breathe the new air.
She shoved him back fiercely, eager to put to space between them, when she hit nothingness for real. She had backed into the space of the window and lost her balance.
Clinging to nothing with desperate hands, Elizabeth saw the grounds looming down below. In the time it took for half her flailing body to get out of the window, the Dementors had massed at the bottom, looking upward and waiting. But the impact never came...
A large hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to her feet and away from the window. On a whim, he let go suddenly, and she hit the floor with a thud.
That hurt! Wait! He can touch me even if I'm not in-between!
"You are...in-between. I have the power to bring you here anytime I desire to." His voice overflowed with arrogance. Smirking at her, he leaned against the wall and awaited her response.
She had a response alright!
"Oh, you think you have power, do you?! All you seem to be able to do is wander about in-between and stand in the halls staring at people! You're a big...nothing, that's what you are!" What are you?
Hatred...his eyes once burned with indifference and superiority...now they...such hatred...
He grew rigid by the wall as he stared down at her. She lowered her gaze to his hands that he had clenched in fury. He bleeds black! A black liquid flowed between his fingers and dripped on the stone. In a dark flash, he came towards her, face barely illuminate by the flames. His eyes she saw perfectly clearly, a light of their own by power. Tyger, Tyger burning bright...blood and ink...
She scootched back as far as she could and her back hit a cold, unyielding wall.
"W-what are you going to do?"