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))
Side Note: To clear up any confusion, a 'pantheon' is, and I quote, 'All the gods of a people considered as a group.' Example: Zeus is the head of the Greek pantheon. Okay, onward!
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Awareness came back to her with a sudden jolt, and Pansy sprang into a sitting position. Her head was pounding and it felt like the bone in her arm had just been re-knit. The first thing that registered in her foggy brain was the sound of people sobbing and yelling, their voices full of fear and panic. The second thing was seeing Severus looming over her, looking more disheveled and wretched then she had ever seen him before. His face was a pasty gray color and his hands were actually shaking. She wondered at it before she shook herself fully awake and remembered everything up until the shield exploded, which it shouldn't have done no matter what the three of them had run into in Reverie.
"What happened?" She asked, her voice cracking and her throat sore. Looking around, a nasty, sinking feeling spread throughout her body. She couldn't see Draco, Blaise or Virginia for the crowd of Slytherins who must have been drawn by the explosion. She doubted the normal-level silencing charms had held up against that. They were all in various stages of disbelief and distress, and a few were openly crying.
"It's early Saturday morning. You've been out for a while. They didn't make it." Severus said, his own voice rough. Still looking dazed, he leaned over far enough to touch his wand tip to the stone floor, and spoke a spell that she vaguely remembered would alert Dumbledore.
Denial coursed through her as she rose unsteadily to her feet. Pushing past the outer ring of her Housemates, she made her way to their center. When they saw her, they moved out of the way, shock written plainly across their faces. Stumbling, all grace forgotten, she made it clear of the last of them. She forced her eyes down, forced herself to look at what she already knew, yet couldn't believe. Tears choked her for the first time in years as her eyes took in the scene before her. Melody was crying in Anton's arms, both of them on their knees beside Draco and Blaise. The Gryffindors were splayed out around them, Granger and Lauren sobbing raggedly as Weasley held his sister's body in his arms, his face red and tear-stained, while Potter's hand rested on his shoulder.
But it wasn't until she really looked at Draco, Virginia and Blaise that it hit home. Their bodies were ravaged and becoming worse by the moment, as if whatever had killed them in Reverie was still working on them. All of Virginia's skin that was visible was a frostbitten bluish-black, and it was beginning to look flaky, as if she'd just disintegrate any moment into nothing more than a pile of dust. Weasley's own skin was turning blue where it came into contact with her, and he was shivering violently, though Pansy doubted it was just from the cold. She could barely believe that it was the same girl she'd become friends with over the last couple of months. But it was when she saw Draco and Blaise that something broke inside of her.
She had known them both since she was a child, her parents having left her at one Manor or the other numerous times when they'd had a trip or a business party. She had never had the same level of closeness with them that they had with each other, but few people ever did and it hadn't bothered her. She had always known they were special, and as a little girl, the bond they had together was just another secret of the mysterious, magical world that they lived and breathed in every day of their lives. They had accepted her after the first initial, judging looks that she hadn't recognized for what they were until years later. Ever since, they had looked after her, covering for her when she broke something or accidentally hexed an important guest.
Even though they had stayed at both of the boys' Manors, one in France, the other in Italy, they had always gone shopping with their mothers in Paris and such, thus growing up in an almost purely French environment. They hadn't begun exploring Italy until they were almost eleven, although they had traveled nearly everywhere else by then. Her parents' estate was on the border of Spain and France, right between two muggle towns, Jaca and Pau, though she only spent a few months of the year there, even before Hogwarts. But her favorite times had been those she spent with them, exploring the dusty, forgotten passages within their homes that no one, not even the house elves, had bothered with in decades, and practicing their spellwork.
They had always made everything interesting, and above all else, they had loved her in a way that her parents had never been fully able to. They treated her as a sister, and she naturally responded the same way, looking at them as the (slightly) older brothers that she'd never had. They listened to her and respected her ideas and opinions, which had been something new to her. They had always seemed older than they really were, but they never made her feel inferior. When she would become sad because she didn't have the same magic that they did, they would soothe her, telling her that her blood was just as pure, that she was one of them to the last cell in her body, and that that was what really mattered.
So from the time she was six until she was nine, they were all hers. Well, Greg and Vincent were with them most of the time too, but she felt nearly as strongly for them as she did for the other two. It wasn't until Draco and Blaise's joint birthday party, which they had every year since they'd been born within a week of each other, that they'd met Melody and Anton. They'd been introduced to countless other children before, but those two were also going to Hogwarts, so they tried to at least remember their names. The two ended up surprising them though, and they made quick friends. But regardless, Draco and Blaise had always been the closest to her, her best friends, even after they got with Virginia.
And now, looking upon their absolute beauty ruined and marred, seeing the stiff forms and blank, unseeing eyes that once shone with lively intelligence and darkfire, a piece of her soul shattered and screamed. Draco's skin looked as if it had been boiled, bright red and sloughing off in thick, liquid layers, and parts of bone were visible through the mess of sticky flesh that had once been smooth, elegant skin. Even that once-beautiful face was melted, the cheekbones poking through, and shriveled, black…things where bright silver eyes had once looked out at her from. Blaise's body faired no better, except he seemed to be decomposing before her eyes. His skin hung loosely and was spread over with rot, greenish-black where it wasn't a pasty gray, and his eyes were whole, but misty and white like a blind person's.
All three were splattered with dried blood from where they'd been bleeding when she'd first spotted them, still inside the circle, but no blood flowed now from their still hearts. The best Healer in the world would take one look at them and say it was hopeless. She knew this, had the proof right in front of her, but the denial was strong in her and it was all she had left to cling to. I can't lose them, she repeated to herself over and over, and all the while a small, cruel voice in the back of her mind told her that it was clearly too late. Shaking her head, she fell to her knees beside them. Timidly reaching out a hand, she brushed her fingers over Draco's singed hair. She yanked it back in horror, however, when all of that formerly-beautiful hair fell to ash underneath her fingertips.
"What has happened?" A familiar voice cut through the growing hysteria, and for the first time in her life, Pansy was glad to see Dumbledore. If anyone could fix it, he could. He was supposed to be a wizard of miracles, after all.
A tiny bit, of what she knew to be pointless, hope began to grow inside of her as she turned tear-filled eyes to him. Severus quickly explained, looking sick and, for once, completely discomposed. She saw Dumbledore make his way toward them, looking grave, and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't know that she was trembling, didn't know that tears had been pouring down her cheeks for over a minute, didn't even know that she was clutching her dead friends' hands until she felt something wet slide over her wrist. Looking down, she saw that part of Blaise's skin had burst open and diseased-looking pus had run out. Gagging, she barely stopped herself from throwing up, pulling on seventeen years worth of self-control in order not to lose her lunch and to block it out.
"I don't think there's any need, Madam Pompfrey." Dumbledore said after surveying the situation with dull, cheerless blue eyes. Pansy hadn't even noticed the nurse, and paid no heed to her then. All of her attention was locked onto the old man in front of her.
"Help them." She pleaded, not giving a damn about her pride if he would only do something. "Please, please fucking help them. You've wanted our House's trust for years, though you've done nothing to earn it," she couldn't help that part slipping out, as her emotions were, this once, ruling the words escaping her lips, but she continued without a pause, "but I swear you'll have it if you help them. We'll cooperate with you, just save them, please save them."
"Oh, child." Dumbledore said, kneeling beside her and putting a wrinkled hand on her shoulder. "I would do anything to help them," he said, looking morose, "if I could. But alas, this is farther along than even the strongest Healer could fix. They are gone, dear. I'm so sorry."
Hearing the words from him, like that, cracked her numb disbelief in half. Choking on deep, racking sobs that seemed to come from nowhere, her vision blurred and a scream left her throat as soon as she could draw air again. Strong arms suddenly enclosed her from either side, and she felt herself being lifted and then placed gently on one of the couches, but she couldn't have cared less. Her best friends were dead. Her best friends were dead. Her best friends were dead. Gone. Never coming back. She distantly heard the castle's mourning bells begin to ring, the deep, low sound reverberating even so far down as the dungeons.
It crept through the stone, sounding in every hall, room and corner of the grounds. It was chilling, eerie, and shivers were racing madly down her spine in time with her tears. The bells continued tolling and tolling, the haunting melody sinking into her bones and spirit, each note jabbing the spear of white-hot agony deeper and deeper into her. The last of the night itself seemed to be responding, as they could hear the dimmed roar of rain and thunder, and every creature inside the forest seemed to have taken up the bells' tone, their howls and roars a faint backdrop to the storm. Two voices were talking to her in low, steady tones, which she recognized as Vincent and Greg's.
"Pansy, love, it'll be okay." Greg said, his voice hard and tears in his own eyes, running down his cheeks. He looked lost, as did Vincent, as if the world had just crumbled underneath their feet. She felt much the same.
"N-No, it won't!" She got out after her tears had abated fractionally. Another sob caught in her throat and their arms tightened. "T-They're dead. How can they be d-dead?" She asked, grief hollowing out her insides.
"I don't know." Vincent murmured, rocking back and forth. "I don't know."
The fireplace roared to life suddenly, and a frantic Narcissa and Silana rushed out, each clutching a pendant in their hand. Pansy recognized the talismans immediately as the charms that the two women had always carried and which let them know how their sons were. Both women were also keyed into the castle's wards, as they had permanent visiting rights, and on a normal day, it wouldn't have been anything different for them to come through the magical flames. Seeing the pendants sparking with green firelight but with none of their own, however, only intensified her grief, but she still had enough common sense to know that the two women shouldn't be allowed to see their sons in the condition that they were currently in.
Severus and Dumbledore seemed to be thinking much the same, as Dumbledore moved to intercept them and Severus motioned the horrorstruck Slytherins to form a wall around the bodies. Pansy's line of sight to the two women was cut off as a circle immediately formed around the couches, but Pansy knew it was futile. The women already knew that something horrible had happened because of their talismans, and keeping them away would more than likely be impossible without restraining them, and that would not be anything resembling easy. They could both become quite homicidal when it came to their sons, and even if they didn't have the old blood running through their veins, the veela alone would be enough to make a sane person think twice.
"Get out of my bloody way, you old fool!" Narcissa's indignant shout could be plainly heard over the other voices in the room, all of which promptly fell silent.
"Now, Lady Malfoy…" Dumbledore started, using that name since she'd kept it in honor of her son. But Narcissa wasn't having any of it.
"Let me see my son!" She screamed, and the sound of a curse being cast was heard. There was a bang as it was deflected, followed by an enraged shriek. "How dare you, Severus? You think to keep us from our boys?"
"Narcissa, please. Listen to me just this once. Let me take you to my office an-"
"Fuck you, Severus Snape!" She yelled and several Slytherins yelped. Pansy could imagine why, as she had seen Narcissa go all veela before. Her eyes would glow a bright red, deadly claws springing from her fingers, and an aura of dark magic would encircle her, casting shifting shadows and making her look otherworldly. She did not grow wings or a beak since she wasn't a full veela, but it was definitely scary enough. Even Lucius had tried his damnedest not to provoke her.
"I know you're upset, I am too, but-"
"But nothing!" That was Silana, and she sounded pissed. "We want to see them now. Not later, not in five minutes, but NOW. The life force in our sons' amulets went out and you want us to leave? Go inhale some more Potion fumes, Severus."
"If we have to tear this bloody room apart, we will." Narcissa said scathingly. "So, MOVE." Her voice was like a cracked whip, and the Slytherins broke formation.
They had held up while Severus seemed to have some leverage, but a direct order from the senior Malfoy had them scattering and casting her fearful glances. Pansy's view was uninterrupted again, and she saw that both women had changed. Furious scarlet eyes swept the room before falling on the three bodies, and all of their anger seemed to fade away. No one could do anything but watch as all of the light, angry and otherwise, died inside their once again blue eyes. Pansy had never seen anyone's heart break before, but she was positive it was what she was seeing now, but more, in a way. It was two mothers confronted with the deaths of their only children, which is the one thing no mother ever wants to see.
"B-Baby?" Narcissa asked, her voice wobbly and her eyes beginning to glaze with severe shock. Guessing it through the amulet and seeing it firsthand were apparently very different things. "What the hell have you done to my baby?" The question was flung out to no one in particular, and her voice was ripe with soul-pain and venomous fury. It seemed as if the two women's instinctual rage was clouding their grief for the moment, vengeance being the foremost though in their minds.
"He went into a healing trance, Lady Malfoy." Dumbledore started. "With Virginia Weasley, in order to save Lord Zabini's life."
"And why was my son's life in jeopardy in the first place?" Silana asked, fury pouring off her in waves. "I thought you promised our children would be safe here, Dumbledore." She spat his name out as it were something nasty. He bowed his head, regret and shame written across his elderly face.
"That I did, Lady Zabini. That I did."
"He saved two of his Housemates that were being set on by a group of other students." Severus supplied, looking nervously at the two women. "He had to go through the Whomping Willow to get to them, however." Silana paled and Narcissa's lips tightened before he continued. "Sap got in one of the more serious wounds." Silana's head bowed for a moment, the grief trying to fight through, before her head snapped back up, the fury doubled.
"Gryffindors?" She asked, her eyes flickering over the Golden trio and Lauren.
"Yes." Severus agreed. "Along with a few Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff."
"A Hufflepuff?" Narcissa questioned incredulously. She then shook her head and flexed one clawed hand. "How old?"
"All sixth years."
"Good." Silana hissed. "Old enough to duel, then." Several Slytherins exchanged startled looks, while Dumbledore actually looked nervous.
"Lady Zabini-"
"No!" She snapped, cutting him off. "It is our right, gods damn you! A life for a life!"
"They are only children, th-"
"So were our sons! So was the youngest Weasley, their only girl!" Narcissa shouted and Weasley's head snapped up, the first reaction he'd given to anything since Pansy had been awake.
"Yes." He hissed, and Pansy saw something in his eyes that she'd never thought to see from him before. A promise of pain, a promise of death. "Yes, they will pay for this."
"They couldn't have known the consequences would be so severe-" Dumbledore started, but was cut off.
"If it were your precious Harry Potter your words would be quite different! But it's not; it's a Slytherin, and you don't even truly care, do you?" Silana spat out.
"Of course I do." Dumbledore said, keeping his voice calm and steady. He obviously knew how to deal with an enraged veela. "But I cannot allow you to slaughter my students."
"But the deaths of our children are alright!?" Narcissa demanded, pacing toward him.
"Not at all, Lady Malfoy." He replied. "And those responsible shall be dealt with immediately. The other students will already be gathering in the Great Hall, and the proper announcements will be made."
"Announcements?" Silana asked in disbelief. "My son is dead and you're worried about announcements?"
"It must be done, you know that." Dumbledore said. She looked away, her fists clenched so tightly that blood was trickling through her fingers.
"You won't move them yet." Narcissa said, and it wasn't a question. "You will let us perform the rites."
"Yes. The Weasleys have been notified, although Molly will be here as soon as she sees her clock. They will join you, as will I when the business is done. I must leave now. Do I have your word that you will do nothing until after the rites?" He asked, and the two women nodded reluctantly. "Good. I will be back within the hour." With that, he turned and left with Madam Pompfrey, leaving the four Gryffindors and the Slytherins alone. No one spoke, as uttering any more audible words seemed almost wrong somehow.
Narcissa and Silana lowered themselves to the floor slowly, and the majority of the Slytherins turned their backs respectfully, leaving them a semblance of privacy. The two women were free to grieve since they were among their own, and the situation was too dire to pay much attention to the four Gryffindors who were also mourning. Cradling their children's bodies in their arms as best they could, they began a death chant in the old tongue, the lilting, sorrowful notes spiraling into the air. With their backs still turned, the Slytherins formed another circle, surrounding them and adding their voices to the litany. Lauren and Weasley's voices soon joined them, sending their inquiry heavenward and begging the gods to watch over their loved ones in death, as was denied them in life.
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Dean Thomas was more angry than he'd been in a long time, and he barely watched where he was going on his way to the Great Hall. All he could think of was throttling that stupid bastard. And sadly enough, that 'stupid bastard' was his best friend. His incredibly idiotic, dick-headed best friend. Usually, he passed Seamus' pranks over, telling himself that it was just Seamus. But his friend had gone too far this time. Dean wouldn't even have known what had happened if he hadn't been in the Quidditch locker rooms and overheard some younger years from the reserve team talking about it in hushed, excited whispers the night before. Apparently, one of the girl's boyfriends had been invited to go along with a few others on a 'revenge mission', as they called it.
Staying quiet, he listened in the shadows as they spoke of what had transpired on the grounds. Apparently, the 'revenge mission' group had run into two Slytherins and picked on them for a bit before Blaise Zabini had shown up. The girl said that her boyfriend had said Blaise had seemed scared, but then countered that by saying her friend had seen it from the edge of the lake and said that Zabini had been mad as shit and scared the fuck out of them. One way or the other, the group of revenge-seekers had stranded the two younger Slytherins at the base of the Whomping Willow, which everyone knew to be extremely dangerous, but her friend said Blaise had blown them across the clearing. They'd gotten back up, and had seen Blaise fighting his way through the tree. She'd said that was all she knew, and one of the girls had started sobbing, asking if Blaise was all right.
If that had been all, Dean would have still been angry that anyone at their school would do such a thing, but that wasn't all. A boy had piped up, asking who was in the group. Dean was shocked when he heard familiar names being called, but what made his breathing hitch was the first girl saying, 'Yeah, but Seamus Finnegan arranged it all. Paid the sixth years and everything 'cause he didn't want to get caught doing it. Saw Zabini coming too, and headed him off in the hall so he'd make sure to pass by and see. Said it would be a good way to get Malfoy back if his boyfriend got it from a tree. Had it planned all along, he did.' His blood freezing in his veins, Dean had burst from his hiding place, ignoring their startled shrieks, and run hell-bent for the castle. But Seamus hadn't been there, so he'd vowed to find him the next morning. Sleeping fitfully, he rose early with the rest of his House. He hadn't been halfway to the Great Hall when the bells began chiming.
By the time he'd made it to the entrance hall, it was filled with teachers and students making their way into the Great Hall. The bells meant one of two things: Someone living in the castle had died, or there was reason to believe that they might all be in danger. So there he was, pushing through a thick mass of bodies and searching desperately for Seamus. Finally spotting him, he ran over and pulled on his sleeve. Seamus turned around, a huge grin on his face, and drug Dean through the Great Hall's doors without a word. They made their way to their House table, where many of their Housemates were already seated, and took their usual places. The trio was nowhere to be seen, and Dean felt a growing sense of dread. You knew something was up when those three disappeared.
"You won't believe what happened, mate!" Seamus exclaimed as the last of the students filed in, the Slytherins conspicuously absent.
"I know damn good and well what happened!" Dean whispered furiously. "What the bloody fuck is wrong with you? What if one of the Slytherins is really hurt?" Seamus looked defensive.
"Then it would be nothing more than those stupid shits deserve." He said with finality, and Dean snorted in disgust, turning away from him and looking toward the Head table.
"Fine. Be that way, Dean. You gonna be a House traitor like that Weasley girl?" Seamus snapped.
"Don't talk about Ginny that way. She's a sweet girl. You thought so too until yesterday."
"I think sh-"
"May I have your attention, please?" Dumbledore's voice rang through the Hall, cutting Seamus off. Silence fell, heavy and expectant. "As you know, you have been called here for a reason. I am sorry to inform you that three of our students lost their lives this past night." Gasps echoed through the stillness and whispers burst out, whipping through the room like wildfire.
"Silence!" McGonagall shouted, her hair slightly disheveled and her eyes sad. Dumbledore nodded to her in thanks and continued.
"Due to a foul and dishonorable attack late yesterday afternoon, Blaise Zabini was mortally wounded. Attempting to save him, Draco Malfoy and Virginia Weasley were lost in a healing trance. All three have passed on and the families have been notified. I ask you to remain calm," he said when the students began to look panicky, "as it was not an enemy attack that took them from us, but an attack from within." At those words, complete silence fell once more.
"Who did it?" One Ravenclaw girl asked unthinkingly, then clamped a hand over her mouth. Dumbledore gave a small smile, and Dean chanced a glance at Seamus, who seemed to be in shock. His eyes were wide and horrified, his face pale and his skin waxy and trembling.
"Usually, these matters would be dealt with in private, but we think it wise that this be a lesson to you." Dumbledore said in response. "Now, let me make it clear that those responsible will not be up on murder charges as they only caused this indirectly by endangering students that Mr. Zabini, as a prefect, was entitled to save. The damage is done, however, all because of a few students' prejudice, and the punishments will be appropriate for the crime." Dumbledore sighed. "Therefore, I will give the students this chance to turn themselves in. For those who do, things will be much easier, as it is the only way to keep you safe from the grieving families." He directed the last towards the few students who knew who they were, and waited.
Half a minute later, a sixth year Gryffindor stood, tears streaming down her cheeks. Looking shell-shocked, she walked up to the Head table, stumbling. Moments later, a Hufflepuff boy jumped up, causing many students to suck in a breath in disbelief. A Hufflepuff had been involved? His Housemates looked like someone had just dropped anvils on their heads as he joined the Gryffindor girl. The next were two Ravenclaw boys, one who had a prefect badge on and one who Dean recognized as Jeremiah something-or-other. Another boy at the other end of their table also stood, hanging his head in shame. By the time they stood with the others, two more Gryffindors had left their seats. All of them were sixth years, and all of them turned accusatory eyes on Seamus.
"Well, come on, Finnegan." One of the Ravenclaws called. "It was your bloody idea, after all. And if I'm going to Azkaban, you're damn well coming with me." Seamus looked wretched, but he had brought it upon himself. Dean watched as he stood, the stunned gazes of their Housemates on him, and made his way slowly to the front while words ran through Dean's mind in a never-ending cycle. Saw Zabini coming, headed him off, a good way to get Malfoy back, had it planned all along, nothing more than they deserve…
"Oh gods." The Gryffindor girl moaned. "Are we going to Azkaban?" McGonagall spun towards her at that inquiry.
"I have never been more disgusted with any of my students!" She exclaimed and the girl cowered. "You will get what you deserve, by means of a full trial." Not much more was said and they were dismissed and told to return to their dormitories. The Gryffindors huddled together, quietly making their way to their tower. Once they passed through the portrait, they took seats, spreading out but staying close at the same time.
"How could this have happened? So many deaths in less than a day." One girl said, breaking the silence.
"How could Seamus and the others just-" Another started, but Dean stopped her.
"Don't, just don't. You were all saying that they needed to pay. Are you satisfied?" He asked, a cruel edge that they'd never heard before in his voice, and then stood, storming up the stairs to his room and leaving them gaping at his retreating form.
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In a place of utter darkness and unfathomable raw power, a figure materialized out of the void, bringing light with it. The darkness pulled back obediently after brushing over the being's flesh with a lover's familiarity, and it moved forward, the light revealing glimpses of an ethereal room if anyone else had been there to see it. The being had the form of a man, but not one like any on earth. At least ten feet tall and majestic in extreme proportions, he was a vision of supreme beauty. Long, golden hair flowed down his back, silky and metallic, seeming to shine with its own light. His ivory skin was glowing, and elaborate green and black Celtic tattoos raced over his flesh in intoxicating patterns. Eyes the color freshly spilt blood sat underneath white-blonde eyebrows, and his full, sinful lips were set in a menacing scowl.
"Cocidius!" A musical voice called, and another being appeared out of nothing. "What does thee think thee are doing?"
"Leave it be, Sulis." The towering man replied, his voice like sweet, slick honey.
"I shall not!" She replied, flicking her rich auburn hair over one delicate shoulder. She was smaller then the man but larger than any human was, though her figure was still slender, lithe and muscular, as was the man's. "I cannot let thee go against the Lords of Heaven!"
"I am a Lord of Heaven!" He retorted, spinning on one heel and facing her, his predator eyes narrowed.
"Thee knows what I mean." She said, exasperated. "Kings, then. Call them what thee will. But they have all denied our requests! Thee cannot just resume contact anyway!"
"Watch me." He snarled, and started pacing. She moved closer to him, reaching out hesitantly. When he didn't jerk away, she spoke soothingly.
"Thee heard the outcome. The Heads of all five Sky pantheons said nay. Dana and Dagda, Ra and Mut, Zeus and Hera, Odin and Frigg, Jupiter and Juno. And the other…Well, we all know that he has always been against it."
"Yes. But the Lords of the Underworld have sided with me, and they will back me should I choose to break the Ban."
"The Sky Kings will banish thee!"
"Let them banish me; I will not forsake my Chosen! Not again. It has worn on us all and thee knows it. I will do it no longer. And I hold as high a place in the Dark Court as I do in the Light."
"Thee would forsake the Sky Realm's halls?" She questioned in disbelief. "Thee would choose to live permanently among demons and the dead?"
"If they force me to." He growled.
"They are not forcing thee! Thee does this on thy own!"
"Only because the rest of thee are cowards!" He snapped, his patience wearing thin even with her. "I understand as well as any why the Ban was necessary, but it has been fifteen hundred years since we have so much as spoken to them! A thousand since the last altar ran dry! The lesser kindred have all but forgotten us except for him, but those of our blood still worship, still remember."
"But to live eternally among darkness, Cocidius…"
"What does thee think I am? Some pure, shining hero like Apollo? More of me is dark than light, no matter who my mother is. I am the God of Forests, Hunting and War, Sulis, as well thee knows. And what are those things if not dark? I am more at home in the center of the void than anywhere else."
"Thee must not do this!" She said, nervous and angry.
This brother of hers was different from the rest, and she couldn't read him like she could the others. He set her off balance constantly, but she knew enough to recognize the gleam in his eyes. He was being Called; they had all fought the same thing numerous times over the centuries that the Ban had been in place. Before, they would have followed the Calling straight to their Chosen, a small group of people that were spiritually connected with a certain god by something that even they didn't fully understand. But the pull seemed to be too strong for Cocidius to ignore any longer, and she wondered at it. He was one of the strongest among any of the pantheons; he should have been one of the last to break under the strain. But the light in his eyes resembled battle-fury mixed with the madness of the void that he so loved to play in.
"So I take it that thee did not come here to assist me?" He asked, his voice bland and his eyes blank. She wanted to say yes, wanted to help him somehow, but she just couldn't. She didn't have his fearlessness, not when it came to Heaven's High Kings and Queens, and probably wouldn't even if the Dark Realm's own High Kings and Queens were on her side. Which they weren't, since most of them detested her and her father.
"I can't. I want to but I can't. Not with this." She said, lowering her voice. A flash of something resembling pain crossed his sculpted features before it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a jaded, bored look.
"I figured as much. I will need someone though." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Ares!" He called a moment later, and a stunning, young-looking man materialized before them. He had long black hair that fell to his hips, golden eyes, and blood-red lips. Tall, thin and powerful, he glided through the darkness with a wolf's loping grace, his eagle eyes trained on his friend.
"What need has thee of me, Cocidius?" Ares asked, raising a hand and brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, his tinted black fingernails blending in with his tresses. The two gods embraced before Ares pulled away, a smirk on his face. "Well? I take it that thee wishes my help with thy little problem?"
"Thee knows me so well." Cocidius said, chuckling, and Sulis felt a sharp flash of jealousy. She hadn't liked the Greeks since Ares' sister, Aphrodite, had stolen her mother's attention away. A high-pitched, sugarcoated laugh tinkled next to her ear and she groaned. Speak of the devil. The Goddess of Love and Lust had appeared in all her glory, shining like the noonday sun. White-blond hair fell in wavy masses farther than her brother's did, and her emerald eyes looked as if stars had been trapped inside them. They probably had been, knowing Aphrodite.
"I want to help." The golden goddess intoned, and Sulis stared at her. No, this couldn't be happening. Aphrodite had not just bested her once again!
"Of course, my lovely vixen." Cocidius agreed. "Time is a funny thing between the Realms, but I wager we have just enough. The two of thee must shield my activities from the rest of the Sky Realm, at least until I'm through."
"It shall be done." Ares said, moving back a few steps.
He and Aphrodite both threw up shields, Ares' on the inside as the main one and Aphrodite's on the outside as the secondary. Sulis moved not a muscle as her brother's eyes glazed, seeing something very different than what was right in front of him. He was apparently wasting no time as he followed the Call that none of their kind had answered in over a millennium. His body began fragmenting, his essence leaking through as he called on his power and made the reach with remembered ease. Minutes passed before his eyes snapped open and three shadowy figures formed in front of him. All had long, flowing hair in different shades and reeked of power even in death. She had not encountered an earth-dweller as powerful as they were since the First Born. They looked around, their minds clouded and confused as her brother's body became solid again.
"Welcome, Chosen." Cocidius said, his voice full of thunder. His eyes were wild and calm at the same time, and Sulis knew that it was the close proximity of his Chosen affecting him.
"Where are we?" The female figure asked, her voice soft and full of wonder. "Is this the Underworld?"
"Nay." Cocidius answered, and their eyes drifted up to him. The two males stiffened, drawing closer to the female. "Ah, so thee knows me."
"Lord Cocidius." The male on the left acknowledged. Sulis was surprised; she knew these earth-dwellers before her had the old blood running strongly through them, but that they still remembered enough to recognize her brother…That was surprising, to say the least.
"We never thought to see you." The other male said, unable to keep a faint trace of bitterness and pain from his voice.
"Thy Calls were too strong, especially when thy souls disconnected from thy shells. Something in my core shifted when I heard thee. Thee three have great fates should thee accept them." The god replied and Sulis reeled. No wonder he hadn't been able to resist. That was something she was sure hadn't happened since the First Born had Passed. The female moved forward as he spoke, drawn by his voice. She stopped when he did and looked confused again.
"That was…"
"Thee feels drawn to me." Cocidius supplied when she couldn't find the words. The three ghostly forms nodded, and a rare smile graced Cocidius's face. "I am thy patron god and thy are my Chosen. It is the way of things."
"I have heard of such before, in the old legends." The first male said, obviously feeling the same longing as the female. "But it has not occurred since the Rift."
"'Twas banned." Aphrodite chimed in from where she still stood, keeping up her shield. "But Cocidius here couldn't help himself."
"I awoke to their soul-cries ringing in my mind." Cocidius replied. "What else was I to do?"
"Why are we here?" The second male asked. "If we must Pass, we wish to do so in peace."
"Find thee no peace in my presence?" Cocidius asked. The male hesitated.
"Yes, I do." He finally conceded. "Your divinity calls to me, and the worship sings within me as it has never done at an altar."
"Does thee wish to Pass?" Cocidius asked.
"No." All three chimed in unison.
"Had I heard Hades' call to pass through the Black Gates upon my death," the first male said, "I would say yes. But I heard no such summons, not from any god but you."
"My uncle favors thee, then." Ares said, a devilish grin on his face. Cocidius waved him silent.
"Will thee serve?" Cocidius asked, and the three figures grew still. The looks on their faces confirmed that they understood what he meant. If they agreed, the loose bond between them would be made solid and they would truly become his Chosen, serving him eternally. If they refused, they would Pass. The three drew close together, silent thoughts seeming to pass between them through their gazes. Reaching a decision simultaneously, they once again spoke in unison.
"We will serve."
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Pansy walked along the narrow path that ran along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, using her nose to find the best flowers and herbs and ignoring the rain, a simple shield charm keeping the hail from striking her. She could have ordered some of what she was looking for or conjured it, but she needed out of their sorrow-laden common room. Her mind was whirling in every direction, and she had no idea what to do. Narcissa and Silana had still not let them move their sons' bodies, stopping their songs of Passing only long enough to snarl Dumbledore and Severus away. The Weasleys had arrived before Dumbledore was even finished taking the culprits to the Ministry.
They were shocked and distraught, even the oldest of them flooing in immediately. Malfoys and Zabinis had been arriving in clusters, along with Arthur and Molly's brothers and sisters, while all of the other families that wished to pay their respects had been denied entrance to the castle. It had only been two hours since their deaths had been confirmed, but news spread quickly throughout their world. It still seemed distant, untouchable, and yet startling real and clear at the same time. Her best friends were dead. There was nothing beyond that and everything before it. She felt as if she were being slowly choked, and she couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. She didn't even want to stop it.
"Pansy?" Her sister questioned from behind her. Lycelle had sidled up to her during one of the litanies and they had escaped, Greg and Vincent trailing behind them like lost puppies. Her sister was only in her third year, but she was remarkably perceptive.
"What?" Pansy asked, her voice dull and hoarse.
"You loved them, didn't you?" Lycelle questioned, and Pansy looked at her sharply.
"Yes."
"And they loved you?"
"Yes."
"Do you think you'll see them again one day?"
"It's pretty to think so." Pansy replied dryly, another sob pushing at her throat.
Wrestling for control, she clenched her fists and walked faster. She only needed one more type of flower, tiger lilies, and she smelt some a little ways ahead, which was as good an excuse as any for her increased pace. She had never been that close to her sister, since her parents had given up completely on trying to 'raise' a second child and sent her to their grandmother's house in Russia for the majority of her time before Hogwarts. But she did love her, seeing her grow up in spurts during bi-annual visits, and didn't want to hurt her. The girl was tough enough, but she was emotionally wounded easily, which was a very bad trait for a Slytherin.
"We should be heading back soon, shouldn't we?" Lycelle asked.
"Yes. The last flowers are right here." Pansy said as they came to an overshadowed bend in the path.
Leaning down, she reached for the blossoms. Her fingers closed around one and something stuck in her thumb. A drop of blood splattered onto the muddy ground as she pulled her hand back. Putting the flower away, she quickly gathered a few more before examining the cut. It looked like a thorn had stuck her from one of the surrounding brambles. A chill suddenly shot down her spine, and her eyes were drawn to her blood on the watery soil. Shivering, she ushered Lycelle back towards the castle as a bolt of lightning hit a tree bare yards from them. Vincent and Greg caught up with them and they ran for the castle as the storm became vicious.
Once in, they released their shield charms and made their way towards the dungeons in silence. The other students gave them a wide birth, some looking at them pityingly, some mildly regretful, and some still vaguely hostile. They kept their heads up and their movements smooth all the way to their common room, before their masks fell away once more as they entered the grief-choked atmosphere. Walking slowly, she approached Narcissa, Silana and Molly (who had taken her son's place and had her daughter in her arms). She held out her basket wordlessly, and the women briefly nodded their thanks as she began spreading the flowers and herbs in a circle around them.
The aromas varied; some sweet, some spicy, but they blended well and brought an added sense of the earth to the underground room. The plants also smelled of rain and fresh soil, which intensified the feeling. When she finished, she sat on the rug close by, her gaze drawn again and again to what she didn't want to see. When she closed her eyes, she could still picture the three of them as they had been, but she was brought cruelly back to reality when they opened again. Taking deep breaths, she fought the rising nausea back and barely noticed her sister, Vincent and Greg take seats beside her. The Golden trio had taken places within the cluster of Weasleys, and it would have been shocking to see them within their House at any other time.
"Why did this have to happen?" She mumbled to herself. Vincent turned to her, apparently having heard what she said.
"I don't know. And I don't know what to do, Pansy." He whispered back, sliding closer. He slid and arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his familiar embrace gratefully.
"Me neither." She replied, her voice low.
"It seems darker."
"Yes, yes it does." Pansy agreed, closing her eyes, another stray tear leaking down her cheek.
"No, I mean it really seems darker. Look." He said, and her eyes popped open again.
Glancing around, she realized that he was right. The fire was still burning, but it didn't seem to be giving off as much light as it should, nor did the candles and torches. The air felt heavy and thick, sliding like honey down her throat. There was a different smell drifting through the room, something she recognized but couldn't place. It was citrusy and sharp, yet smooth and soothing at the same time, and it felt refreshing when she sucked in a breath. Distracted, she vaguely placed the smell for what is was, and naming the scents mixed up in it had realization whacking her over the head. Lemons, mint and chocolate. She snapped her head up, standing and startling Vincent before sucking in a stunned breath. Virginia's frostbitten fingers were moving.
"Pansy? Pansy, what is it?" Vincent asked, his voice rising when she ignored him and walked forward a few steps, convinced she was hallucinating. Everyone stopped to stare at her, taking in her wide, shocked eyes and gaping mouth before following her line of sight.
"Oh gods!" Molly exclaimed as her daughter's stiff body suddenly convulsed.
Narcissa and Silana were soon echoing her shout with their own, and Pansy drug her eyes to Draco and Blaise. Their bodies were also beginning to twitch and spasm, somehow staying in one piece when it looked as if the increasingly violent movements would shake them apart. The air grew weightier and darker, the candles and torches going out all together, eaten by the encroaching darkness. A few people shouted and whimpered, but Pansy couldn't take her gaze from the three bodies of her friends. The darkness began spiraling around the room, bringing the scent and crushing feel of the void with it. Then there was a mighty 'BOOM' and the three figures screamed.
It was a horrible, agony-filled sound that seemed to tweak in the surrounding people's very bones. A halo of shadowy energy sprung up around them and threw those closest to them back several feet, including their mothers and Pansy. Getting back to her feet shakily but swiftly, she watched, spellbound, as their eyes became whole and clear again, and charcoal, silver and blue lit up with an inner fire once more. Their screaming died into nothing as the raw magic around them began flowing and swimming over their forms. Then suddenly, Draco was lifted a good seven feet into the air and the energy began moving faster. Pure, white streaks shot through the black and the suffocating power in the air took on an icy feel.
Her eyes unblinking, Pansy watched in joy and disbelief as his blistered, melted skin reformed, returning to its previous pristine state. It stayed bright red for a moment longer, before that, too, faded back into snowy brilliance even lighter than before. Except for his lips and eyelids. The once blood-red lips became a lightly tinted blue, as did his eyelids, and it somehow made him more angelic-looking than ever. The tattoo on his arm came back richly shaded, visible since their outer robes had been removed earlier, and his fingernails took on a lustrous finish, looking to be made of ice and bearing the same blue tint as his lips. His hair grew back rapidly, and all traces of white-blond were gone from the purely silver tresses. Every strand was liquid Christmas tinsel and his eyes took on the same metallic sheen. He slowly returned to the ground and Blaise took his place.
The energy surrounding him was laced with a deep, purplish-blue color instead of white, and the air felt more charged than freezing. His raven-colored hair flowed down like a waterfall, and the dark blue lowlights in it became more vibrant. The spreading rot vanished from his skin, returning the flesh again to what it once was; porcelain paler than the clouds except for the thick, dark markings of his own tattoo. And he, too, had parts that became tinted; his eyes were ringed in smoky black instead of frosty blue and the same dark shade colored his opaque fingernails. His lips, though, took on a faint purple shade, looking slightly bruised, as if he'd just been thoroughly kissed. His eyes also gained hints of purple, turning them a shade she had never seen before.
He sunk slowly to the floor beside Draco, and everyone's eyes followed Virginia's form as she rose to where they had been. Pansy's gaze was eager now, as she knew what to expect, and she felt like screaming with glee when the black faded from her friend's skin, the cold blisters disappearing to be replaced with flawless ivory. No freckles dusted Virginia's flesh anymore and her cheekbones became slightly more pronounced, making her look regal. Her hair became soft again, the color subtlety changing to look like shifting flames; dark orange blended into brass that melted into dark red. But the last six inches and the hair around her face took on the color of freshly spilt blood, her lips became a luscious crimson, and her nails glittered like rubies in the dim firelight and flickering shadows.
Her eyes shone with hints of fiery copper, and the skin around the gorgeous orbs was shaded a shadowy gray that brought out the metallic hints within them beautifully. She did not sink to the ground as the other two had; instead, they rose once more to her level. The living darkness that had been creeping around the room started to whip and spin, and a presence unlike any they had ever felt before entered the room. They couldn't see what caused it, but they could definitely feel it. It made Pansy desperately want to sink to her knees and raise her voice in worship. That last word buzzed in her mind, and she nearly fainted when she realized what was happening. Someone yelled, and her eyes moved unthinkingly to where they were staring. She gasped and fell backwards into Vincent when she saw what had happened.
The ancient altar in the corner, which was much older than Hogwarts itself, was alive again. The silver runes and symbols carved into the black marble were moving in a never-ending pattern, the fountain that had been dry for an age was sprouting with crystalline water, and it reeked of divine energy. One design had grown larger than the rest and was fixed in the center, glowing with dark power and a hint of light. It was a complicated symbol of simple, exquisite beauty, and they knew the god it represented. Although no altar had so much as dripped in over a millennium, anyone who still worshiped knew that the enlarged symbol was indication of what god's attention was on it. The choking feeling turned comforting, divinity rolling over them in waves, and every soul in the room, besides the three still in a cocoon of power, did drop to their knees then.
They reveled in the first touch of a god that their kind had experienced in much, much too long, and gave themselves freely to it as they had always been meant to do. A brilliant flash of light turned their eyes back to the Draco, Blaise and Virginia. Three identical vortexes of light were swirling madly above them, one placed over each of their hearts, and no one could do anything but watch as the small maelstroms sunk into their chests. They screamed again, but it was not agony cloaking their voices that time. They were screaming in pleasure and ecstasy, their cheeks flushing and their bodies vibrating. They began to glow, light creeping out from inside their skin, each glimmer of luminosity a different hue.
Their right arms suddenly shot out, held up as if in offering, and moments later, Pansy realized that's exactly what it was. Because the light around their arms grew even brighter than the rest, their screams turning into breathless moans as the light began tracing over their forearms. A beam of it had shot up through their skin and looked as if it were carving something into their flesh. As a pattern began to form, and Pansy recognized the beginnings of the god's Mark. Understanding what it meant, she felt as if she were going to sink through the floor. His Chosen…They were Cocidius's Chosen. Cocidius, who was said to have the power to overthrow Dagda if He chose. Cocidius, who had seduced Isis and Osirus into the joining of the Dark pantheons. Cocidius, the last god to walk among the people and the first to return.
His symbol was branded into their skin in the same place but on the opposite arm of where they would have taken the Dark Mark had they been inclined to. It was where Voldemort had gotten the idea after all, reading every book on the gods he could find. The gods had always Marked their Chosen that way, and Voldemort had simply twisted it a bit into his own weak imitation. The spear of light finished its work, and the result was breathtaking. It was not one color but many, as if every color created or imagined had been placed into it. The colors twisted and corkscrewed, giving off a faint echo of the previous light. The three recipients' eyes flew open, as they had closed them when the Marking started, and they didn't look entirely human.
All three had split pupils, which she had seen from Draco and Blaise before, but never from Virginia. Her teeth stayed normal, however, as theirs elongated into small, deadly fangs. The three of them went from horizontal to vertical positions in the air, and dropped gracefully to their feet. They were cleaned of all the previous dried blood, and they, like their Marks, were still glowing faintly. They descended into crouching positions, their hair falling around their faces like curtains as the divine presence receded, the darkness drawing back. Soon enough, they felt alone in the room once more, except for the wisps of energy around the once again active altar. Narcissa moved towards the three of them slowly, Silana and Molly on her heels.
"Draco? Love? Are you alright?" She asked, nearing where they half-sitting, half-kneeling.
She took another step, and Blaise's head snapped up, a growl trickling from his throat. There was no recognition in those blue-but-not-blue eyes as he looked at the woman who had been a second mother to him. Silana stepped around her, but still his eyes stayed threatening and blank. His mother's lip began shaking, tears springing to her eyes, but she stayed still, not backing away as that gaze examined her from head to foot. Draco and Virginia slowly lifted their own heads, their hair falling back. Nothing but a primal intelligence shone in their eyes, either, and Pansy started to frantically wonder if it was even them in their bodies. Blaise's head turned, his attention falling on the other two beside him, and something did wash over his face then. Draco and Virginia saw him at the same time, and it was as if they couldn't look away.
"They know each other, at least." Lycelle whispered to Pansy from behind her. And she was right. They moved towards each other in perfect sync, rubbing their cheeks together when they were in touching distance. They each reached out with their left hands, their movements slow and careful, seeming instinctual rather than conscious, and Draco laid his hand upon Virginia's Mark as she laid hers upon Blaise's and Blaise laid his on Draco's. Their eyes widened and their bodies began shaking once more, and each had a single, thin line of blood trickle from their noses. Then they grew still, their breathing labored, and slowly lifted their heads.
"Mum?" They asked in unison, and choked sobs were their only answer before they were drawn into relieved, rapturous embraces.
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Please, please, please review!
Cocidius – Celtic God of Forests, Hunting and War
Sulis – Celtic Goddess of Healing
Ares – Greek God of War
Aphrodite – Greek Goddess of Love and Lust