Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Author's Note: Once again, I do not speak French. I am using a dictionary/translator on my computer, so I'm aware it won't be perfect. If you do speak French, I would like to apologize now for any slaughtering of the language I may have inadvertently caused. Otherwise, what do you care, right?
French translations: ((example))
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Virginia awoke to her name being called, and opened her eyes slowly. She then immediately bolted upright when she saw her surroundings. She had no idea how she'd gotten wherever she was and she could feel herself beginning to panic as she looked around. She was in some sort of tunnel; but the walls and ceiling were not made from stone or wood. They looked almost alive. The ceiling and floor were both squishy and moist, as were the walls. But the walls also had something different. There were dark blue vine-type things running through them and pulsing slightly, standing out vividly against the pinks and reds of everything else, and a faint white glow emanated from everywhere and nowhere.
But one of the things that she found the most disturbing was a loud, thrumming noise that was so low and deep that everything rumbled with it. The blue vines' pulsing matched the eerie drum-like sound perfectly and she had a sudden, strong desire to touch the strangely beautiful vines. Barely thinking, she reached out a hand only to have it snatched backwards. She screamed, spinning around with her free fist lifted, before she saw two things at once that brought her memory rushing back. A glowing purple cuff around her wrist and unmistakable mercury eyes. Said mercury eyes were looking at her with concern and seemed much more like they usually did than they had before in the common room.
"Do not touch the walls, ma soleil." Draco said, his grip on her hand lessening a bit. ((my sun))
"What happened?" Virginia asked as he helped her to her feet.
"An untrained mind can't make the jump and stay conscious." He replied as he watched her take a few experimental steps on the flexible floor. "Welcome to Reverie."
"I was hoping my first trip here would be under better circumstances." She murmured. Then louder, "I don't know why I wanted to touch the wall so badly. What is this place?"
"A healing road tuned specifically into Blaise through his blood. The walls represent his flesh and the beating his heart, but it's the veins that you have to watch out for." He said and she took a step back. Veins. Not vines. Oh gods.
"Why is that?" She questioned after a moment.
"They'll suck you into one or more of his memories." Draco responded as he began leading them down the passageway. "And, at best, it would only slow us down. But we can't afford even that this time."
"I thought you said he would stay in a suspended state until we either stopped the poison or failed?" Virginia asked, the worry once more beginning to eat at her insides.
"He will." Draco said, something dark flickering in his silver eyes. "But the longer he stays that way, the less chance there is that he'll fully recover." Virginia said nothing, allowing that to sink in.
"Alright, so we have to hurry. Where are we going?" She asked, and Draco figured there was no harm in explaining a few things while they were walking.
"To find the right poison path. Normally, a healer brings a locator charm with them, but my nose works just as well."
"You can smell it?"
"I've known the scent of Whomping Willow sap my entire life. My mother didn't want me having any preventable accidents, no matter how unlikely. The path will smell like the poison. Once you've become an Animagus, you should be able to do much the same."
"My senses must seem pretty pathetic to you." Virginia said morosely, still slightly miffed that she hadn't gotten to start the Animagus training yet. It was one of the things she was the most excited about learning.
"I find nothing about you pathetic, Virginia." Draco replied seriously, shooting her a knowing, exasperated look. He'd heard her complain about little else over the last few weeks.
"I just don't see why I can't-" Virginia stopped when she saw something moving towards them out of her peripheral vision from the direction they'd come from. "Draco?"
"I know. It's been gaining on us for a minute or so. Whatever it is, it has no pulse, nor does it breathe."
"It's something dead?" Virginia asked, picturing horrible zombies like the ones she'd seen in Egypt.
"I didn't say that. It could be a number of things that dwell here. Or something else." Draco added, and she didn't like the way that he'd said 'something else' at all. She started to take out her wand, a habit even though she no longer needed it as much, but he stopped her.
"First rule: No wands. They won't work here; Reverie is too closely intertwined with the void. Just imagine what you need. This may be the land of healing, of visions and memories, but it is the land of dreams as well. In some places, it may be impossible, but anything we conjure beforehand will stay with us."
As an example, he held out both hands, the purple cord stretching between them, and two swords materialized, his fingers automatically wrapping around the hilts. They were both beautiful and looked priceless. The sword he held in his left hand had a platinum hilt shaped into a fierce looking dragon, and his hand fit perfectly around the body. It was encrusted with emeralds and trimmed in ebony, but the dragon's eyes and the blade itself were what drew her attention. At first, they appeared made of ice, but upon closer inspection, she realized that they were diamonds coated with a layer of frost. Startled, she looked harder. She'd been around enough Slytherins lately that she knew what a diamond looked like, and she'd been right. The eyes were each a diamond the width of her fingernail, and the entire blade of the sword was a single chunk of the precious stone, although it appeared to be somehow more at the same time. But even that didn't gain her attention as much as the fact that it was the sword from her dreams.
Glancing hurriedly at the other sword, she gasped even though she'd been almost positive of what she would see. The second sword was also one of the swords from her dreams. The only difference between them was that there was only one of each now instead of two. The second sword was as exquisite as the first, but the blade was made of an extremely rare black metal that she had only seen pictures of before. Ebentine. Indestructible and impossibly sharp, none of the metal had been seen in centuries except for bits and fragments. She looked back at the other sword, realizing what she hadn't the first time. It was not ebony trimming the platinum hilt of the first sword. It was more of the dark metal. The second sword's hilt was also made of the black metal and was formed into the hooded figure of Death. It was studded with emeralds and trimmed in platinum, and the tiniest wisps of energy ran over the surface of the ebentine, making it seem alive with shadows.
"Here." Draco said, extending the ebentine sword to her hilt-first. "It's Blaise's. It seems…appropriate, somehow, that you use it rather than some lesser blade." He said, releasing the sword when she took it.
"These are…"
"Yes." Draco agreed when she didn't finish. "They've been in our families for ages, but we're the first in centuries who can touch them."
"What? Why? I can touch them. Or at least this one." Virginia said, distracted by the shocks running through her palm from the sword. It reminded her of touching Blaise, which got her feet moving forward faster. Draco matched her increased pace easily.
"Well, you're an Elemental, cher un. Otherwise, you'd be dead." He said flippantly, his eyes trained on the shadowy passage ahead of them, though she would almost guarantee he was listening to the figure getting closer and closer to them from behind. ((dear one))
"Dead? The swords kill anyone who's not an Elemental?"
"Unless we have the safety on. Which we typically don't…" He trailed off as if remembering something, before shaking his head and continuing. "We added that feature, though. It was actually an idea inspired by a muggle weapon, and it was…necessary." He said and her mouth dropped, before she snapped it shut and started giggling.
"What?" He asked, glancing at her warily.
"You two got an idea from muggles?" She asked incredulously. He shrugged.
"'Know thine enemy'." He said, completely unfazed. "Or at least their weaponry."
"Ginny!" A voice shouted from behind them, and they spun around, Draco placing her firmly behind him despite her protests.
"Whoever or whatever it is, Virginia, it will not be a friend. Illusion or enemy, but not a friend." Draco said under his breath as the figure drew up to them. Virginia gasped when she saw who it was.
"Mum!?" She asked, shocked. Her mother looked as she always did, but she had blood on her hands and tears running down her plump cheeks. There was a stupefied, haunted look in her eyes as their gazes locked, and Virginia felt a wave of confusion wash over her, distorting everything. Why was her mother here? Where was she? And why did her mum look so sad? There was something, something she knew she shouldn't forget, but it was so hard to think…
'Then don't think.'
Where had that come from? It had sounded like it came from right beside her, but neither Draco nor her mother had spoken. She couldn't concentrate, and her eyes kept going back to the blood on her mother's hands. Why was her mother bloody? And why was Draco looking at her so suspiciously? What the hell was going on?
'They'll betray you. Even him. I won't, though.'
There it was again. She glanced around, feeling slightly panicked, and the sword slid nearly out of her hand as she jumped when her mother spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Ginny-baby." Her mum said, using her old nickname. More tears spilled down her mother's cheeks. What had happened? Why was her mother crying?
"Mum? What's wrong?" Virginia asked, but her voice sounded a million miles away. Draco clutched her hand, digging his nails into her flesh until she bled, and a little bit of sanity returned to her. She was here to help Blaise, that wasn't really her mother, she had to get that voice out of her head…As if summoned, it spoke once again and another wave of confusion swamped her.
'Lies…Treachery…You will be betrayed. Trust no one but me, angel.'
She had heard that somewhere before, but the thought was gone as soon as it came. Her mother spoke again, and the words twisted around in her brain, eating at something vital.
"So sorry…" Her mother sobbed. "I should have been there…Just got to the hospital…Asked Ahisma Patil to reach you by showing a sending of me to you…Your father's dead, Ginny." Her mother fell, almost in slow motion, crumpling to the floor and nearly shrieking in grief.
'She speaks the truth, but I will heal you.'
That was too much and the words joined together, slamming viciously into her mind. The sword fell to the soft, pliable floor as a choked scream left her throat. She could feel her mind begin to break, before a soft pulse of reassurance shot through her. She could think somewhat clearly again and her eyes snapped open, seeing Draco kneeling before her, glowing with dark power, one hand on her head, the other over her heart. His eyes were shining, the pupils split, and a murderous sneer was twisting his crimson lips. And suddenly, another voice entered her mind, opposing the first.
'Draw back! You shall not break her!'
'Foolish youth! You know not who you toy with!'
'I care not! Draw back or die!'
'You can not kill me. Not here. Not ever.'
'Perhaps. We shall see.'
The last comment was followed by an explosion of power that ripped through her mind, yet somehow didn't harm her. It actually did the opposite; clearing away the last of the confusion and soothing the wounded edges of her psyche. The other, though, was not so lucky. A scream the likes of which she had never dreamed echoed back to her from the link, right before it snapped when the torrent of energy Draco had released slammed into it, and the howl was filled with pain, rage and a promise of retribution.
"Virginia?" Draco's silky voice questioned after the whirlwind of energy died down, and she glanced back up at her boyfriend. Except he didn't look like her boyfriend. He looked ethereal, quite like how she imagined the gods must have looked when they had taken human form in the past. There was still a dark cocoon of power encircling him and his eyes were neon silver, lit from within with a caliginous light. He looked tense, his muscles coiled; there was a feeling of battle-alertness about him and the power he was giving off was nearly choking, even for her. He must have sensed that, as he pulled it back almost immediately to a more comfortable level.
"Why are you still channeling?" She asked him, not particularly wanting to talk about the voices in her head yet, at least until she was positive she wasn't insane. He must have sensed that, too, and asked no questions. Shit, he probably knew more about what had just happened then she did anyway. She glanced down at her hand and noticed that the small wounds from Draco's nails had been healed, right as he spoke again.
"Once I draw on my power here, I cannot close it off again. It is one reason Blaise and I have never stayed in the visions for more than a day or two. If you allow yourself to be drained here, you will more than likely never leave." Draco replied, his voice like a velvet-coated melody. It was almost tangible, whispering over her skin in a sensuous caress, but what caused her to pause was the almost childish look on her lover's face, which was something she had never seen before.
"Ginny! Do you not care about your father at all?" Her 'mother' called in a raspy voice. Virginia turned slowly this time, looking at the replica of her mum.
"Be gone. You have no power here, illusion." Virginia hissed. The image of her mum wavered, then screamed, fighting against the ties that bound its kind. One of which was that upon discovery, it must disperse.
"You have not the power to banish me, vision-crawler! I am not working alone!" The illusion cried out, growing a little more solid. Virginia was surprised; she'd never heard of an illusion being able to hold its form after discovery. Draco glided in front of her, and when she looked down, she saw that his boots were barely skimming the floor.
"Will you name me vision-crawler?" Draco asked, his voice deceptively smooth.
"No." The illusion replied, taking a step backwards and looking nervous. "I name you vision-walker."
"Good." Draco said, laughing happily, and held out his hand as if to blow the illusion a kiss.
A small vortex of whipping snow and freezing ice appeared above his outstretched palm, growing to the size of a human eye. A mirthful twinkle lit in Draco's eyes, and the sphere twisted into the shape of a pair of silvery-white lips. He pursed his own lips and blew, laughing merrily as the illusion turned and ran, the lips hitting it square in the back. It screamed again as the ice and snow grew, quickly covering its entire form in less than a minute. Draco very nearly skipped with glee as he went to the frozen figure and spun it around. The illusion's eyes were moving back and forth frantically, as the ice that would have killed anything alive only trapped it. But to an illusion, that was nearly as bad, since they had no concept of death as mortals do.
"Tsk, tsk." Draco mocked in a singsong voice. "Your going to be owing your superiors a big favor if they can get you out of this one, aren't you?" The illusion's eyes burned with rage, but Draco only laughed again. "Come on, Virginia. I don't think we're far from the path." A glazed look covered those starlight eyes for a moment. "Not far at all."
They started walking forward again, Virginia scooping up Blaise's sword and noticing that at some point, Draco had called in a black leather back sheath for his sword. She did the same, doing what he said to do and imagining a sheath that would fit both her and the blade. Moments later, she felt the odd weight of the sheath hanging down her back. Sliding the sword home with practiced ease, she sent a silent 'thank you' to her father and brothers for insisting that she learn basic sword fighting at the least, as most wizarding families still taught their children to do. Her mother had been against it, even though she herself knew a bit, but for once, they had overruled her. After all, duels and wars alike were fought the same way between their kind; a sword in one hand and a wand in the other.
"Draco?" Virginia asked, after two minutes of hearing him hum a Weird Sister's song and seeing him looking around, wide-eyed and cheerful. It was so unlike Draco that she had to say something.
"Hmm?"
"Are…Are you okay?" She said, not sure how to phrase it. Maybe she was just freaking out again or something. "I mean, you're just acting kind of…"
"Different?" Draco supplied with a bright smile that seemed all the brighter because of the dark energy surrounding him. At least it wasn't his Elemental power swirling around him, or she'd have to call on her own just to keep her body temperature above that of a corpse.
"Umm, yeah." She agreed, this 'new' Draco completely throwing her off track. How could someone who looked so dark and dangerous, who she knew was dark and dangerous, still remind her of a Christian angel? How could someone so venomous and deadly have a face that could make Aphrodite weep? But, in a way, she supposed it made sense. After all, all dragons are beautiful until they bite off your head.
"The more accomplished one becomes at vision-walking, the more time you spend here. The more time you spend here, the harder it becomes to resist this land's pull on your mind. You learn resistance, but even that comes with a price. Today that price came like this. I've never felt so bubbly in my life." He said, something almost like a giggle escaping his lips, his dark eyelashes fluttering down momentarily and brushing against soft, glowing cheeks. "At least now I know how Blaise felt during that trance we did in Germany."
"Blaise experienced a side effect like this one?" Virginia asked, a ghost of a smile flittering over her lips at the thought.
"Just the once." Draco replied, and his nostrils flared slightly. "Yes." He breathed out in a hiss. "Come, we are close." He took her hand again and sped off down the passage, the red walls flying past them. He stopped suddenly and she saw that they'd come to a fork in the path.
"Which way?" She asked, sincerely hoping that he'd say the left. It looked much more appealing with its light pink walls than the other option did with its dark black ones. Of course, that was a passing fantasy.
"To the right." He said, and she took a deep breath as they entered the dark tunnel. The veins nearly blended in here, the only sign of them being telltale ridges. The tunnel was lit by a mysterious light here, too, but it was a dark blue instead of pale white. They had made it a good thirty feet or so down the path, when a red spider the size of a small cat scuttled out of the shadows.
Virginia moved back, lowering the tip of her sword, but Draco only grinned. The grin disappeared, however, when instead of moving towards them, the spider ran over to one of the walls and climbed up to about waist-height. It lifted one of its hairy legs and stabbed it into one of the veins on the wall, ripping down. Dark blood began pouring from the cut and the spider disappeared. Virginia glanced at Draco and saw that all his previous cheerfulness was gone as he stared at the blood gushing down the wall. The slit pupils in his eyes were growing, widening until only a thin line of silver was left on the sides, and his canines were elongating to form into dainty, deadly fangs. She could feel on an instinctual level that this was very different then their blood-play. This was the blood hunger, brought on by the overwhelming scent of Blaise's blood in a land that twisted everything; which meant that she had to walk carefully and follow every rule of vampire etiquette that she could remember.
"Devoir nous poursuivre avant, mon maître? Je vais être honoré á se soumettrevous tout le sang vous besoin quand nous atteindre notre objectif." Virginia said, stringing the words together rapidly and praying that she'd gotten them right. She had to ask in his native language before he would, no, could respond. That's why so many vampires had been found guilty of crimes in the past, because no one had realized how to ask them correctly until the Vampire Rebellion in the sixteen hundreds. Until then, many wizards had thought them soulless, like the Dementors. ((Shall we continue on, my lord? I will be honored to give you all the blood you need when we reach our destination.))
"Si vous dire." Draco said, the light musical tone from minutes ago gone and replaced by a voice like liquefied silk seduction. She could see him fighting with himself by the subtle clenching of muscles and the slight tick in his jaw, and she knew he was trying his damnedest not to rip her throat out. It's just the way things were for a vampire suffering from the blood hunger, especially in such close proximity to a mortal. And since Draco and Blaise both still fed off of the more-than-willing Slytherins regularly, so as not to drain her, she had never dealt with this before. They had, however, prepared her for it, and it was one of the main reasons they'd begun teaching her French immediately, and the reason the Slytherins could all speak it so fluently. ((So you say.))
"Faire vous n' rappeler ma sucré sang sur votre langue, mon maître?" Virginia asked, and Draco's hands clenched tightly in his robes. ((Do you not remember my sweet blood upon your tongue, my lord?))
"Oui. You may speak in English, if you wish." Draco finally said through gritted teeth, his eyes glued to the pulse at her throat. ((Yes))
"Then you know my promise of blood is good. Come, mon chou, we must find Blaise." Virginia said, holding out her hand. He took it, his razor sharp nails sliding over the delicate flesh of her wrist and sending delicious shivers down her spine. Gods, I'm really fucked up if I'm even semi getting off on this. When his hand slid out of hers and wound down to her waist, that suspicion was confirmed. ((my beloved))
"Blaise." Draco said, rolling the name around in his mouth as if it were a fine wine. "Oui, we must find Blaise." With a purpose besides feeding to dwell on, Draco gained a measure of his control back, however small. A vampire of a lesser bloodline would probably have already killed her, since she knew that the blood hunger was greatly intensified when in Reverie. They walked in silence, Virginia casting slightly nervous, sidelong glances at Draco every so often, until they reached a wooden door. It seemed very out of place among the fleshy walls and throbbing veins.
"Do we just go through it?" She asked and Draco gave a stiff nod.
She hoped he could hold out a little longer, because they had expressly told her not to let them feed when the hunger had them, in order to make sure there were no…accidents. And the only chance a human had for that to work was if they followed their etiquette perfectly. She pulled the door open and they went through slowly, looking around. They'd entered a huge chamber made out of the same stuff the passageway was. The Great Hall at Hogwarts could have easily fit inside it, and the light was brighter here even though the walls were still the same diseased-looking black. The room was plain, free of decoration, and there were four doors. One on the wall opposite from them and three lined up together to their right. They walked farther in and the door slammed shut behind them, causing Virginia to jump and Draco to curse. A voice neither of them had thought to ever hear again drifted from the shadows and it, too, sent shivers down her spine, but they were of an entirely different sort.
"Welcome, welcome. It took you long enough. I've been waiting for ages."
"Hello, Lucius." Draco said, showing none of his surprise in his expression.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me 'Father' again?" Lucius asked, stepping out of the shadows. He (or it) looked exactly as he had the last time that Virginia had seen him in the papers. With the exception of the death photos, of course.
"You stopped being my father the day you wanted me to kneel at the feet of a deranged mudblood." Draco spat.
"You should have done what you were told!" Lucius countered, slamming the end of his ever-present cane into the soft flesh beneath them.
"I kneel before no one. You brought shame upon our line and not a single soul mourned you. When you die the final death, our kin will rip what's left of your soul into pieces." Draco hissed, unsheathing his sword and calling in its twin. His eyes were a swirling maelstrom of fury, the thin lines of silver being pulled towards the center in a continuous spiral.
"Angry you didn't finish me off the first time around?" Lucius taunted even as he retreated a few steps. Draco snarled, advancing on him.
"I won't make the same mistake twice."
"Draco, wait!" Virginia exclaimed, causing Draco to pause momentarily. "It's only another illusion, right? It's just baiting you!"
"No." Draco growled, his dark aura expanding to cover the twin blades in his hands. "This is no illusion. It's really him. Or what's left of him, to be more precise."
"Your death will be worth it, heir or not." Lucius sneered. "I had plans for you, you know. But, apparently, your lessons weren't…forceful enough."
"Oh, they were just fine, Lucius." Draco replied venomously. "There's nothing that will bring a father and son closer than a healthy dose of torture, after all."
"I didn't think of it as torture, per say." Lucius commented lazily, and Virginia had the strongest urge to gouge out his eyes. "More like preparation, you ungrateful little shit."
"Come off of it." Draco snapped. "I know as well as you do that you and Jeran both got a perverse pleasure from watching our blood run."
"You were both weak. We made you strong." Lucius countered. "It was nothing too different from what other families like ours teach their children."
"That is bullshit, Lucius, and you know it." Draco replied, with a look of utter disgust etched across his features. "Anton couldn't throw off the Cruciatus by the time he was five. Pansy wasn't led into death mazes before she was seven with her wand charmed to cast only the killing curse. And I can guarantee that neither have ever felt the lash of a demon whip or been left to their mercy. Not when they were nine, not now. Face it, Lucius. You were a terrible father. But don't worry; Severus has been filling in the role quite nicely, just as he always has. Oh, did I tell you? He and Mother married."
"Narcissa broke our vows?" Lucius roared, causing Virginia to jump and start to unsheathe Blaise's sword. Draco caught her eyes and gave a slight shake of his head. She let her hand drop back down to her side and prayed that he knew what he was doing.
"Vows?" Draco asked incredulously. "Surely you haven't deluded yourself to that extremity? Mother never wanted to marry you; she could see the taint inside you, waiting to grow, from the first day that she'd met you. And our kind's wedding vows, which I'm sure you recall, are binding for eternity. Unless they are said with an unwilling heart. So, no, Lucius. You have no bond mate that could petition for your salvation. You will burn with Hades for eternity." Lucius looked as if he had a momentary flash of fear, before his smirk returned. He moved his eyes from his son and placed them on Virginia, starting at her feet and working his way up. It made her feel dirty, as if he'd managed to leave a streak of filth on the inner barriers of her mind.
"And who is this, Draco? The girl our master's learned that you and Blaise have been fucking? Does she let you feed? Is she your little bloodslut?" Lucius asked nastily, and Draco's sword whipped out lightning quick. Lucius jumped backwards, but he was nowhere near fast enough. A long gash opened on his thigh, going from hip to knee.
"You shut the fuck up about her." Draco warned, an otherworldly light burning deep within his eyes. Lucius' eyebrows rose.
"You care for her?" He asked, his now-slightly-strained voice full of disbelief. "What a joke! You may be the first active Elemental in our line for a millennium, but the latent blood has run through us all. I know the complete coldness in your soul; I know the heart of ice you try so valiantly to deny. You claim to know love when you cannot even truly feel it."
"You lie!" Virginia said vehemently. "And he's already a better man than you ever were! All you are is lonely and jealous."
"Jealous?" Lucius scoffed. "Of what? You? You're probably not even a pureblood knowing this traitorous little brat."
"Oh, she's pureblooded, Lucius." Draco said, his sneer turning vicious once more. "I prayed I would find a way to tell you this before the final death, and it seems my wish has come true."
"Tell me what?" Lucius asked, looking like a petulant child.
"I think you can figure it out if you look a little closer." Draco said, a note of his earlier cheerfulness creeping back into his voice, although this time it was twisted with hate. Lucius turned back to her, his eyes searching. They widened suddenly and he shook his head in horrified denial.
"You see it now, don't you, Lucius?" Draco crooned, his silver gaze drinking in his father's petrified look hungrily. "May I introduce mine and Blaise's girlfriend, then?" He asked, and playing along since she, too, found Lucius' reaction quite satisfying, Virginia stepped forward.
"Virginia Adiena Weasley, Lord Malfoy. I wish I could say that it was an honor to meet you." That much was true at least.
"You can't be serious, Draco!" Lucius raged, finding his voice. "A Weasley!? You two couldn't stop at killing us? You have to pollute mine and Jeran's lines with that filth?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Draco's sword flashed again, this time slicing his arm to the bone before her boyfriend danced gracefully back.
"One more of those, boy, and you will regret it." Lucius snarled, and she realized that even though no blood was flowing, he still felt the pain of the wounds.
"Well, I've definitely heard that one before." Draco said with a thoughtful expression.
"You spiteful little bastard. We could have been great together!" The older man yelled. An unholy smirk spread across Draco's face as he slowly began to circle his father.
"I will be great." Draco said, and Virginia noticed his swords were glowing with their own power, not just his. "Just not with you."
"Then with who?" Lucius asked, and she saw a malicious glint enter his gray eyes. "That Zabini you've been fucking? The boy's nothing but a useless whore; quite like your girlfriend here." Draco moved so fast that once again Virginia barely saw it happening; one second he was at her side, the next his swords were buried in his father's chest. Lucius laughed as he looked at the blades embedded in his chest, and then met his son's eyes.
"You think to kill a revenant with two puny little swords like these?" Lucius asked mockingly and Virginia stifled a gasp. Revenants were witches and wizards who made a pact with demons as they died. They were allowed a half-life in Reverie, and were pretty much allowed to do as they wished. The only way for them to return to the mortal world, however, was for a Dark mage to call them through a rite of sacrifices. The art was all but lost, though it was rumored that a few still had the knowledge. Revenants could be killed, but only with a relic crafted by the hands of a deity. For a moment, she had a flash of pure, basic, primal fear; but Draco was always just full of surprises.
"Of course not, Father. Look again, for I hold blades that hold your final death." Draco said, a genuine smile raising the corners of his blood-red lips. Lucius looked down and his eyes widened as if something shocking had just been revealed to him, while Virginia felt the telltale shiver of a broken glamour spell.
"NO! These are not the swords you just held!" Lucius started, and then stopped as the power running along the swords' blades pulsed, Draco's smile growing all the wider.
Lucius screamed, and his head was thrown backwards as his body convulsed. It was followed by another pulse and another scream, before Draco's eyes slipped closed. The dark halo of energy surrounding him began feeding into the swords, which turned an almost blinding silver. A final shockwave of power pulsed outwards and Lucius's body crumbled into ash at Draco's feet. Dark brown sparks floated out of the pile, rising in curvy, dizzy lines upwards. A ripping sound echoed through the room, and Virginia could do nothing but stare as the air split open and a portal of some sort appeared out of nowhere. Ghostly white hands reached out, scooping up the tiny brown globes of light none-too-gently. Draco's smile had turned into one of satisfaction and a sudden thought came to her.
"Draco, those aren't your ancestors' hands, are they?"
"Did you think I was lying?" He asked, turning to face her.
His eyes were still violent whirlpools and there was a slightly mad look inside of them. He slid both swords into their sheathes, and she'd completely missed him calling the second sheathe in. She was about to respond, when the last of the brown balls zipped away from a translucent hand, gave an almighty shriek, and exploded. Something happened then that she couldn't really explain. It felt as if she was being ripped in half, and her knees gave out as she felt something being forcefully stolen from her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, scorching her skin, but all she knew was a desperate, aching emptiness that had filled her from head to foot. Clenching her fists, she raised her head and saw that Draco was barely keeping his feet, one hand clutched to his chest. But the biggest difference was the lack of power surrounding him and the swords. It was gone, but she knew that couldn't be right, as he'd said he couldn't shut it down while still in Reverie. The purple cord that had bound them together had also disappeared, and it made her feel slightly naked.
"Draco? Mon coeur? What happened?" She asked, crawling towards him as she fought the feeling of helplessness and depression rising inside of her. He looked over and fell to his knees beside her as she reached him. ((my heart))
"He managed to somehow bring the shields around the room down. It's a vacuum, one of the places that I told you no magic or conjuring of any kind will work in." Draco said, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair.
"The blood lust?" She asked, looking down at where their hair was loosely intertwined.
"Gone, along with all the rest of my magic." He said, and she shivered, moving closer to him. She had never felt so wretched in her entire life. At least she knew what the splitting sensation had been. Her magic being taken from her.
"We do get our magic back, right?" She asked, a note of panic entering her voice at the very thought of being forever handicapped in such a way.
"Yes, as soon as we can find a way out of this room and back into a shielded part of Reverie. And I can pretty much guarantee we won't be leaving the way we came."
"Why?"
"Look." He said, pointing to where they'd entered the cursed room. The door that had admitted them was gone, nothing but more of the sickly black flesh barring the way. The other doors remained, and after a few minutes, they were reoriented enough to stand and keep their feet under them. The hole in the air was gone, as were all of the brown balls.
"Have you ever had this happen before?" She asked as they made their way to the three doors on the side wall.
"Yes." He said, his hand a comforting weight in hers. "And these areas stay under constant watch. Whatever we must face to leave this place will more than likely not be pretty."
"What do you mean? How do you know for sure that we'll even run into anything? We're almost to the doors now." Virginia said, looking at the twenty or so feet they had left to go. Draco was wary, his eyes constantly moving, and it unnerved her. It usually wouldn't have, but everything was so different, as if she'd been blinded. The natural feel of the void's magic was gone, as was her link to the Elements. It was worse than losing a limb.
"That we are." Draco agreed. "And already it takes form." He said, and her head snapped back up.
There were patches of what looked like fog coalescing in the air, and they were soon shaped into something resembling a human form, but it was three feet too tall and its limbs were segmented like an insect's. It began filling out with color and substance, and Virginia felt another quick bolt of fear as she recognized the creature from drawings in the seventh years' DADA books. It was a bicorn, a demonic being but not a demon. It moved strangely and had two long, curving horns, one on each side of its head. Its skin was a mottled gray, yellowish-green spots spread across it here and there. It had three long fingers that were also segmented and a thumb three times as long as a human's. Its face was a mask of charred flesh and sagging skin, and its eyes were almost the same sick brown color that Lucius's spirit had been. The thick, choking, sulfuric scent of demonic magic hung heavily in the air around it and Virginia wanted nothing more than to get away from the foul creature.
"Hail, Guardian." Draco called from where they'd stopped, about ten feet from the…thing. "What challenge do you issue us this day?"
"She is not a walker." The thing said in a scratchy, hissing voice. "What think thee by bringing her here, Black Healer?"
"I am not a healer yet." Draco argued. "Your kind knows that well enough."
"As thee wish, Draco." The bicorn intoned. "But we also know that it's only because of pesky mortal traditions and laws. Join us, young one. We would make thee great, as thee said thee would be."
"I need no help from you and yours, Guardian." Draco replied, an edge in his velvety voice.
"Aye, but help from my masters would aide thee well. They've wanted thee, as I'm sure thee know, ever since their very first taste." The thing said, and Draco stiffened next to her. "Oh yes, they enjoyed thy…company quite well. And thy pretty boyfriend's, too. Thee were both the talk of Hell and Tartarus for years. Still are from time to time. Everyone wants a taste of the two of thee; the boys whose blood made the Low Lord scream. And now that thee are older…I'm sure that for a little ganashing they would hand thee the world." The bicorn said the last mockingly, but the rest he'd been frighteningly serious about.
"Ganashing?" Virginia questioned, trying her damnedest not to let her fear leak into her voice. "What is that?"
"You don't want to know." Draco said in an undertone. Then louder, "I have told you and your kind before and I will tell you again: I want no help from demons or your half-breed ilk. The void's power fills me just fine."
"Do not think the Deep Lords know nothing of thy and thy lover's newest hobby. Grow much stronger at it and they will crush thee." The thing snapped, its spittle hissing and steaming when it hit its skin. Draco sneered.
"Yes, so we've heard before. I'm beginning to think that the Deep Lords are not as fearsome as I once thought. If our blood affected them so much when we were children, they would crawl at our feet for a taste of it now."
"A Deep Lord bows for no one but the Low Lord and the High Kings!" The bicorn screeched, its voice like nails scraping over china.
"For a creature as old as yourself, you have a horrible memory." Draco taunted. "In case you've forgotten, which it seems you have, the Deep Lords have bowed to no one else, but only since Lucifer joined with Hades. That joining is what called all of the Elementals to the two High Kings and froze their bloodlines. But now…Three of the bloodlines have thawed, Guardian, as you well know. Our kind were the only beings besides a Lord of the Dark and the White Wanderers that the demons ever feared. And now they've grown careless and fearless since the Elementals and the White Wanderers disappeared, grown stupid and lazy as the Dark Lords forsook what they were meant to be and became power-mad. So I know damn good and well what your precious Deep Lords would do for my blood, unable to help themselves, unable to resist its sweet, siren call." He said the last in a singsong voice, laughing as the wannabe demon spluttered, then roared.
"I will play no more of these games with thee!" It shouted, its skin turning a bright red with its anger and making it look like a freshly boiled lobster. "Thy challenge is to find the right door by answering each door's riddle. If thee answer all three correctly, a forth riddle will be given. Answer it and the correct door will be shown to thee. From there thee must defeat the door's sentinel. Should thee survive, the way forward is thine to take. Simple enough, yes?" The bicorn asked, and Virginia didn't like the queer look in its eyes.
"Just let us hear the riddles, Azelmurkinordiliag." Draco said, and the bicorn flinched at the sound of what Virginia supposed was its name.
"As you say, vision-walker. Behold the first." It said, waving its long, multi-jointed arm at the far left door. A high, tinny voice floated through the air, sounding like a thousand four year olds speaking in unison.
"I drive men mad for love of me; I'm easily beaten, but never free."
"You have thirty seconds to discuss it between you." The bicorn said, looking anxious. Draco and Virginia turned slightly away from it and quietly conversed.
"Power?" She asked, thinking of all the people throughout their history that had been driven insane by it.
"No." Draco said thoughtfully. "Power itself cannot be beaten, as it has no real form. It simply jumps from one to another."
"'Easily beaten, but never free'." Virginia murmured to herself, thinking furiously.
"I've got it." Draco said, his eyes on the Gryffindor tie around his throat. He turned back to the bicorn. "It's gold." He said, and the bicorn nodded reluctantly, looking disappointed.
"Correct. Next."
"Who makes it, has no need of it. Who buys it, has no use for it. Who uses it can neither see nor feel it." A different voice intoned, this one mighty and booming, reminding her of waves hitting the shore.
"Only Draco may answer this time, and no conversing is allowed. Thirty seconds." The bicorn said as the last of the deep voice faded into nothing. Virginia could feel her insides churning. What if he didn't know or couldn't figure it out? What if they couldn't make it in time to help Blaise at all? And the most stressing question she had at the moment was if they got a question wrong, could they fight their way past the bicorn without their magic? She wasn't too worried about Draco answering his riddle, but if the creature singled her out next…Well, she had never been any good at riddles.
"Time's up. Does thy have an answer?" The thing asked, and Virginia looked towards Draco nervously.
"A crypt." He drawled, looking bored. The bicorn actually stamped one clawed foot, letting out a stream of what she was sure were obscenities, but it was in a rough, clipped language that she doubted a human throat could reproduce.
"I will enjoy the day they break thee, Draco Malfoy!" The bicorn huffed, its skin turning a deep mahogany. "The day when thee gives in! They will lock thee in a davascian cell for eternity, and thee shall be their slave! The mighty Malfoy, a pet of demons!" The creature said, laughing shrilly.
"We shall see who slaves for whom, Azelmurkinordiliag." Draco retorted, and the sound of that name again had the creature paling rapidly. "Give the third riddle before my patience runs out."
"I detest thee." The bicorn spat. Draco gave it a look that said the feeling was entirely mutual. Virginia was pretty positive at this point that the two had met before, especially as Draco knew the creature's name. She wondered what he had done for it, since anything as seriously touched by demon magic as the creature in front of them never gave their full name freely. Shit, they never gave anything freely. And actual demons were even worse about it. "Carry on, then."
"I am glittering points that downward thrust, sparkling spears that never rust." Yet a different voice said in a sweet tone that rose and spiraled like birdsong.
"Only the girl this time, no conversing. Thee has thirty-one seconds since thee is not a walker." The bicorn said, a lousy version of a smirk on its too-thin lips.
"How generous." Virginia muttered distractedly, her thoughts already on the riddle.
What had glittering points? Knife tips? Needles? And sparkling spears…She was hopeless at this kind of thing. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes, but she fought them back. Crying in front of Draco was one thing. Crying in front of this haughty demon-groupie was something entirely different, and was something that she simply refused to do. Why did this have to be their challenge? She would rather have faced some horrible monster or something, anything that she could do better than this. She hated riddles; she had her entire life. And now, when she desperately needed to answer one, she was going to fail. Blaise's life depended on her, and she'd never felt so hopeless in her life, not even in her first year. When she had less than seven or eight seconds left, she lifted her gaze to Draco, intending to let him see the defeat in her eyes so he would be prepared. His own eyes were glittering ice and pulled at her as they always did. Wait, glittering ice?
"Time. Give thy answer." The bicorn called as her mind worked in overdrive, spurned on by desperation and adrenaline. Glittering ice…Sparkling spears…
"I said give thy answer!" The creature shouted when she hesitated, and she saw Draco start reaching for his swords.
"An icicle!" She blurted, praying to every god that she could think of to let her be right. The bicorn shook its head and her heart fell to her toes before she realized that it was shaking in anger and that Draco had a triumphant smirk plastered across his lips. He grabbed her and spun her around, laying kisses over every inch of her face and the sides of her neck.
"I knew you could do it!" He said as she laughed. "You're brilliant!"
"Hey, you got two of them!" She said as he sat her down and brushed her hair out of her face.
"Still here, as I'm sure thee knows!" The bicorn shouted, its face screwed up with unhappiness and loathing. "And thy must now answer the final riddle. Either of thee may give the answer, but no speaking between thee. Understood?" It asked, and when they nodded, it waved a mottled hand.
"What does man love more than life? Fear more than death or mortal strife? What do the poor have, and the rich require? What do contented men desire? What does the miser spend and the spendthrift save? What do all men carry to their graves?" The voice this time was sweet and tinkling, like running water bubbling over rocks in a spring brook.
"Forty seconds." The bicorn bit out before leaning against the wall next to the row of doors. Virginia was truly stuck on this one, just as she had been on the other. It had only been luck that she'd thought of Draco's eyes like glittering ice and had made the connection. She saw no such miracle happening again. All she could do was pray that Draco knew the answer. If he didn't, then they really had no choice but to try to fight the bicorn, magicless or not. Draco might be able to manage, but she wasn't sure she could take a bicorn yet even with her magic. You weren't supposed to learn defense against them until the first year of University, let alone offense.
"Time." The bicorn called, while Draco's eyes once more met Virginia's as if to ask, 'Did you think of anything?', and she let out the breath that she'd been holding.
"Nothing." She said, answering his silent question aloud.
The bicorn let out a sudden scream of fury that sounded like banshees and breaking glass. Draco was smiling again and she was utterly lost. What the hell is going on? The creature was beating its fists into the wall behind it and screaming about someone promising it that it would get his revenge and that it had been assured that they wouldn't be able to answer them all. That was the second time that something trying to stop them had mentioned not working alone, and Virginia's mind was reeling. Something besides the normal dangers of Reverie was trying to stop them, but how could anyone or anything have even known that they would come? Blaise's injury had been spontaneous, so it's not as if whoever it was could have been prepared. And Lucius had mentioned earlier that the Dark Lord was aware of her relationship with the two Slytherins, even though he must not have known who she was, but neither should have been possible yet since they'd only come out about it earlier that day.
"Fine!" The bicorn bellowed. "Fine! But I will have my pound of flesh! See the creature they mean for thee to fight!" It waved its hand again, and the middle door started glowing a bright blue.
A massive creature began forming in front of it, standing at least ten feet tall while being bowed over like an ape. It had five humongous, stubby legs that were as big around as tree trunks and heavily muscled, low-slung arms. Six eyes stared back at them, each as beady and black as a shark's, and it had a huge, gaping mouth that rounded off into a short snout and was filled with what looked to be over four rows of jaggedly sharp teeth. It had a perfectly rounded head the size of a large cauldron and two open holes for nostrils. It stared at them hungrily, and thick, greenish-yellow saliva dripped in a continuous stream from its muzzle. It was covered from head to foot in brownish-red fur that was filthy and hanging in smelly dreadlocks. She recognized it immediately for the mostly-immortal beast that it was, a quintaped, and thanked the gods that they had the swords they did. Anything that can send a revenant to the final death should work on the man-eating creature before them. Hopefully.
"Do you know how to kill it?" She asked Draco under her breath. He already had his swords drawn and was pushing the two of them back towards the center of the room so that they'd have more room to maneuver.
"Yes." He said, moving with an inborn grace that had nothing to do with magic. "Its third heart lies right beneath the skin of its left shoulder blade. The others are too hard to reach and only a heart shot will kill it. Because of the swords we carry, any wounds we inflict will slow it down, but not by much. It has Achilles heels just as humans do, and that's the next best place to aim for. Its skin is as thick as a whale's but these blades can cut anything. It is also quite fast, even though it doesn't look it." There was an odd note in his voice as he spoke and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The creature seemed to be taking its time in reaching them, and they had finally made it to the center of the room, close to where they'd encountered his father.
"What are our chances?" She asked him as she drew Blaise's sword. "Seriously." She added, not wanting him to sugarcoat it if they were about to die.
"With magic, this would be easier than breathing and we would already be gone." He said, his predator-like eyes never leaving the lumbering giant moving towards them. "Without it?" He said nothing for a few seconds, and when he seemed satisfied that the thing wouldn't reach them for a good minute yet, he turned to her, pulling her close and looking in her eyes. "You are good with a blade, ma aimé, but this may be beyond even my skill, as I will be moving as slow as a mortal. My shapeshifter blood lies quiet in this room, as does the vampiric. I need a promise from you." He said, and an ominous feeling filled her gut. ((my love/beloved))
"What?" She asked hesitantly.
"Stay back. I will get you through the door one way or another. Promise that you'll stay back no matter what and help Blaise. He can't die. He just can't. Please, do this for me. I need to know that the two of you will be safe." He said, his eyes boring into hers. She was almost positive that was the first time she had ever heard him say please (well, outside of their bedroom, at least). But she really didn't know if she could give her word on something like that. He almost sounded as if he didn't think he'd survive this fight, and that terrified her. She was saved by answering as the quintaped drew close to them and Draco's attention was ripped away. He pushed her back with enough force that she stumbled, before he twisted back around agilely, his blades crossed in front of him. The creature screamed as it started closing in, and she scooted even farther back unconsciously.
"Draco-" She started, her voice wavering as fear like she'd never known crashed through her. Draco's admission of uncertainty threw her off as nothing else ever had and the ground didn't seem as solid under her feet.
"Get back." Draco hissed as the creature drew even with him and swung one massive arm in a wide arch. He'd been right; the creature, for all its slowness in getting to them, was surprisingly quick. Draco blocked and the creature's arm slammed into the flat of his blade. It knocked him to the side and the only reason he didn't fall was because he leapt with the blow and used the force of the impact to twist away. His eyes met hers for the briefest millisecond and his words barely reached her ears through the creature's enraged howl.
"Je t'aime." The words washed over her like a sensuous whisper and she once again felt like crying. ((I love you))
"Je t'aime aussi." She whispered back as the quintaped swung again, it's dripping, obviously-poisonous claws outstretched. ((I love you too))
Draco waited until the last second before back flipping away and swiping down with his sword at the same time. The creature screamed as the diamond blade sliced through its usually impenetrable hide, and dark, greenish blood began leaking sluggishly out of the wound and matting in its fur. It spun swiftly and its blow landed true, striking Draco as he found his footing once more. He flew through the air before slamming into the pliant floor. He sprung back to his feet almost immediately, although he was favoring his right side where it had hit him. The quintaped didn't wait, but charged again immediately. Draco missed the creature slamming into him full-on by less than half a foot.
The creature apparently couldn't stop very fast, and it slipped in the pile of Lucius's ashes that were still on the floor. It crashed to the ground, hard, and Draco was on it in a second. His blade cut almost halfway through the back of one of the quintaped's ankles, slicing easily through the Achilles tendon. The roar that issued forth from the creature that time was nearly deafening, and Draco was dancing back out of the way before it was over. Hauling itself to its feet and keeping off the hurt one, it barely seemed to heed the gushing wound after the initial burst of pain. Fuming, it came at him slower, its eyes burning and drool practically flowing from its lips. It swung again and Draco danced backwards, nearing one of the walls.
Another swing, and Draco caught its forearm between the twin blades of his swords. He leapt and twisted again, doing…something with his wrists, and the blades slid through bone like butter. One blade stuck and was ripped from his grip, bouncing lightly along the ground. The creature didn't seem to realize what had happened at first, which was just as well since Draco slipped in the blood that it had trailed across the floor. He fell, rolling in one smooth motion to his feet and ignoring the side that had been hurt earlier. He looked like a cornered, feral animal, and he didn't even flinch as the creature bellowed. It picked its own severed arm up and stood stupidly for a moment, trying to put it back where it had been.
After realizing it was a futile effort, it threw the arm at Draco, who rolled to the side, staying in a crouched position. It charged again, but when Draco dodged to the left, it followed his movement in a blur, splattering blood all over him as it hit him with its bloody stump. He flew backwards again and landed on his other sword, his head slamming into the hilt with a gut-wrenching 'crack'. He lay still, not moving a muscle, and Virginia didn't even realize she was sobbing until she felt the tears pouring down her cheeks. As the creature sped back towards Draco, her feet moved unthinkingly. What happened next happened so fast that she could barely recall it. All she knew was the quintaped hovering over Draco, its remaining fist rising for a killing blow.
She swung Blaise's blade, putting every ounce of her fear and rage, despondency and desperation into it, and the next thing she knew, the creature was crashing to the ground, one of its legs severed as cleanly as its arm had been. Draco, who had a growing pool of blood spreading from beneath his head, twisted to the side, his eyes flying open and his arm shooting out. His blade slid home behind the quintaped's left shoulder blade, sinking in nearly to the hilt. The creature didn't scream that time, only stiffened, a deep, gurgling sound rumbling forth from its throat. It twitched and jerked, flailing around on the ground, and Virginia went to Draco's side and dragged him out of the way the best she could. He tried to help her, but he could barely keep his eyes open and his breathing was irregular and strained.
"Draco?" She asked, her voice croaky. Clearing her throat was nearly impossible, as it seemed to be clogged with unshed tears. "Love, please answer me." His eyes fluttered again and a groan escaped his lips.
"Is it dead?" He asked, his voice so soft she nearly missed it.
"Yes." She said, the damned tears still falling freely. "You killed it, cher un. You did it." ((dear one))
"You were supposed to stay back." He whispered, trying to sit up. She helped him, knowing that even while he was in this condition, it would be pointless to argue with him.
"I couldn't. Not when I saw you fall. You should have known that." She said, and then gasped as she saw the damage his sword's hilt had caused. She could see bone through the split in his skin, and the skull looked…She was pretty sure that she was about to be sick. How was he even conscious? Without his healing abilities, she was almost certain the wound would be fatal. She had to get help, she had to…Wait! They had won! She craned her head around and saw the bicorn standing over the quintaped's body and looking at it disgustedly.
"We're leaving." She said, her tone making it clear that there had better not be any disagreements.
The possible death of one of her boyfriends had been enough to get her to go into a healing trance when she knew that there was a good chance she wouldn't make it back. The possible deaths of them both, however, had her ready to face a Deep Lord barehanded if need be. The bicorn seemed to sense as much, and bowed mockingly in agreement. The next couple of minutes were spent helping Draco (who refused to be dragged again) walk to the door that they were supposed to go through. They finally reached it, but Virginia had to stop to throw up in the corner when a tiny piece of pink matter slid down the back of Draco's neck and through his hair. He didn't seem to feel the wound at all, however, and his eyes were fever-bright and slightly glazed.
"Draco, love, can you hear me?" She asked when he didn't so much blink as she grabbed his arm again. His head turned minutely slow, and his lips twitched, but no sound came forth. He was teetering and she knew she didn't have much time left. She had to get him out of this gods-forsaken room so he could heal himself. She got them to the doorframe and threw the wooden door open. There was nothing on the other side but darkness and she had a moment of confusion before two things happened at once. The darkness began pulling at them viciously and Draco's voice once more exploded inside her mind.
'No! It's a trap! A portal straight into the void! It will fill us until we break with the power, turning our energy against each other! If we go through, we are lost and so is Blaise!'
She began fighting the pull, desperately trying to hold on to the doorframe and to Draco. He somehow managed to lift a hand and sink claws into the wood, and she realized the open portal was feeding them a tiny bit of magic if he was able to do that. Pulling on every bit that she could get, she fought fiercely to keep them from being drug into that heavy, deadly darkness. She felt her nails begin to rip off right before they did all together. She was sucked in, her hand in Draco's the only thing keeping her from going all the way through. His own claws were ripping out, which was testament to how strong the suction was, as they could normally carry him and something four times his weight up the side of a stone wall.
When his claws finally gave under the tremendous pressure, the last thing they heard before they were sucked through the portal was the bicorn's gleeful laughter. Then they were twisted and spun, flipped and thrown, before crashing through what felt like a ward of some sort. Seconds later, a crushing weight seemed to fall all around her, tightening until air was just a distant memory. The next thing she knew, she was being frozen from the inside out and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop it. She had lost Draco's hand somewhere, and the panic swirling in her brain was overwhelming. She could feel the ice and frost eating away her life piece by piece, and she fleetingly found it cruel that they were to die by having their own magic turn against one another.
A sudden image bloomed into her mind and her soul screamed as she took in the scene laid before her. Draco was dying, his organs burning up and bubbling under the skin of his stomach, while his beautiful, flawless flesh was nearly at the point of liquefying. Blaise was lying next to him, stiff and lifeless, his chest still and his skin a pasty grayish-blue. Both were bleeding from their noses, ears, eyes and mouths, but it was slowing as their hearts gradually stopped. She felt her own begin to beat sluggishly and felt phantom blood running over her skin as the weight around her constricted even tighter. As the freezing agony covered her face and seeped into her skull, as the vision that was worse than any nightmare faded, she sent a single, silent prayer spiraling into the darkness, into the void.
'Take my life, take my very soul, but spare the ones I love.'
Then blackness dominated everything and she wasn't aware of the two other spirits crying out with the same plea before they, too, were sucked under.
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