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))
Author's Note: I'm going to start responding to reviews at the beginning of each new chapter. But as not to take up too much space, it will be directed only to those who review the chapter before. Anyone who reviewed before should know that their comments were extremely appreciated, but this was a recent idea.
So, this story is dedicated to the Angelfire33, who requested it. To slackerchick101, Salazar will be fully explained later, I promise. He was young in the picture on purpose, please just bear with me. To Jan, I hope that your question was answered in this chap! To tkmoore, I appreciate your reviews more than just about any! You're the best! Iced Faerie, thank you so much! To a-sam, I'm really glad you like it! To Kat Davi, there's no need to be ashamed! I had a first time, too! (Note: that may have sounded…wrong, but it wasn't meant to be!) To periodi-scuri, thank you! To Meryl12, yes, yes they are stupid! To AmYzA, thank you! To power of the stars, you're another of my favorite reviewers! Thank you so much! To TarynMalfoy88, you're awesome! Thanks! To Shadow Psi, another awesome reviewer who I adore! To san-lee, thanks! I'm glad someone else felt like I did! Now on to the story!
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Virginia wrapped her thick velvet cloak tighter around her, the chilly night air creeping down her neck. She could have made herself warmer with a thought, but she had learned to appreciate the cold. One would think she would have been warm anyway, considering that she was squeezed comfortably between two young men, but it wasn't as if they were giving off any body heat. And it had been warm in the private carriage that had brought them to Hogsmeade, the frigid air only coming into effect once they'd gotten out. The air was sweet, though, and its coldness was refreshing. It smelled alive, smelled like freedom, and she silently thanked Dumbledore once again for letting them come.
Before, they had planned on sneaking out, Draco and Blaise having assured her that there were plenty of ways to leave the castle undetected, but after that day, the Headmaster had agreed that it would be good for them. That and the fact that their mothers' venomous glares had been enough persuasion for anyone. Virginia had been surprised once she'd regained herself that day, when she'd learned that her mother seemed to have formed some strange bond with Narcissa and Silana. Draco and Blaise had been equally puzzled, but so far, they had had no further insight as to what had caused it, simply coining it as 'weird mother shit' that they probably didn't really want to know about in the first place.
They did, however, know that the three women had been brunching together every day this last week, which had managed to thoroughly freak out their families almost as much as Virginia's own relationship with Blaise and Draco had. And their families were taking that better than the three of them had expected, which probably had a lot to do with the whole 'dying' factor. She didn't think her brothers or father would have taken it so…quietly, let alone the other Malfoys and Zabinis, if they hadn't just come back from the dead with a god's Mark plastered on them for all to see. But to say that any of them were pleased…Well, that would be a blatant lie. Except for their mothers, apparently. They seemed to be utterly thrilled, which was still rather…disturbing, seeing as they'd hated each other little more than a week ago.
After all, the rift between the Weasleys and those two particular families was deep. Pushing such thoughts from her head, she looked up as a gust of warm air hit her. They had reached the office building that was their first stop, which was why they had left at seven. Draco and Blaise had business to deal with before their dinner reservations at eight thirty, and had told her that she was more than welcome to come along, although she was probably going to be bored out of her mind. They'd offered to handle it first and come back to get her, but she'd opted to stay with them rather than listen to her brother harp on for another hour, as she had known he would do if she stayed. So here they were, walking into a posh, elegant waiting room as the ghost doorman ushered them in.
She'd passed this building many times while visiting Hogsmeade, but had never been inside of it before. The sign out front bearing the symbols of Draco and Blaise's families were warning enough for any Weasley to stay away even if they'd had the money or station to enter it in the first place. It was a beautifully decorated room, the high-vaulted ceiling painted with moving murals and the carpet so thick your feet sunk into its silky mass silently. Leather couches were scattered around the huge room, marble end tables and comfortable chairs accompanying them. The many candles, torches and fireplaces gave off a bright, flickering light, making the room appear almost cozy. Silver, diamonds and emeralds glinted at her from everywhere, catching the light and throwing it back in multi-hued rainbows.
Huge, Roman style pillars encircled the room, which itself was a sphere. Numerous doorways led from the room, two goblins stationed at each one. A long, ebony desk stretched across one whole end of the room, behind which sat four stiff-looking witches who all had their heads down, busy working on something or other. The goblins bowed as the three of them passed each doorway on their way to a side door, but how they knew it was Draco and Blaise under their cloaks, Virginia didn't know. She couldn't help continuing to look around as they moved, admiring the priceless paintings, sculptures and vases that were placed throughout the room. Almost everything, besides some of the art, was black, green, silver, purple, blue or blood red, and the colors were all dark, primary shades, none of the lighter ones.
"Stop right there!" A high voice called out as Draco lent forward to open the door they'd finally reached. She saw a smirk grace his features under the shadowy, concealing hood, and knew that he was pleased they'd been stopped. All four witches stormed up to them, wands out and furious scowls on their faces.
"I don't know who in Chaos you think you are," a pretty brunette snapped, "or why the hell those damn goblins didn't stop you, but you'll be leaving, now, of your own accord or by way of my wand."
"No, we won't." Blaise replied, and something flickered in the witches' eyes right before the two lowered their hoods. The flicker turned into fear within the blink of an eye, the suddenness and intensity of it surprising Virginia. When the four witches dropped to their knees, she shook her head to make sure she was seeing everything right.
"…our sincerest apologies, Lord Malfoy, Lord Zabini." One witch was rambling, her hands shaking visibly. The others followed with similar utterances, their eyes placed firmly on the floor.
"Please don't tell me that you've all turned into bumbling, subservient idiots in the last month." Draco stated, glaring at the witches on the ground. "What the fuck are you doing? Groveling like mere house-elves?" The witches looked up again, their fear melting away at his sharp, sarcastic words.
"We're sorry, my lord, it's just that we didn't know…" She trailed off, and Blaise sighed.
"Yes, yes." He said, waving a dismissive hand. "Bloody fucking Chosen and all. Just cut the shit, all right?" The witches nodded, getting back to their feet, their fear gone. It seemed that they had just needed reassurance. Which, in their own twisted way, Draco and Blaise had just given them.
"We're glad to have you back, my lords." One of the women replied, her hair a shiny auburn.
"Very much so." The forth said, looking at the two young men with unhidden desire. "If either of you require anything, anything at all, just let me know." She said huskily, the invitation hanging heavy in the air. The other women nodded in agreement, and a jealous fury dug claws into Virginia's chest. She threw back her hood, embers burning and growing within her eyes, and delighted in their shocked, terrified gasps as they recognized her.
"They won't be requiring anything from you." She hissed, sneering as they stumbled backwards, tripping over each other, their earlier grace gone in a flash. Low chuckles came from behind her and she spun, glaring at her boyfriends. "Oh, shut up." She said, and stepped through the door they held open for her, ignoring their amused expressions and the women's scampering. The door clicked closed behind them, and they walked down a long hallway that was plain, but in an extravagant way, if that makes any sense. Reaching another door, she smoothed her cloak down as they answered a series of riddles, gave four passwords, and then cut their fingers, letting a drop of their fresh blood smear across the dark wood. Typical Slytherins, she thought to herself. Always paranoid.
"Accepted." Said a voice from nowhere, and the door disappeared. They walked into the darkness ahead of them, and it uncomfortably reminded Virginia of the doorway that she and Draco had been sucked through in Reverie, the door that had killed them.
But there was no shouted warning in her mind, no crushing darkness, only a swift, tugging sensation before she landed in an office larger than the main foyer had been and even more richly decorated, the heavy scent of myrrh invading her nose with its pleasing smell. One entire wall of the room was made of glass, looking out over a large expanse of choppy water that was blue even in the moonlight. Thousands of lights twinkled on what seemed to be an island not too far out and directly beneath them, and they appeared to be almost forty stories up. Even more stars shown sparkling above them, as the ceiling was made of the same crystal clear glass that the wall was. She'd never seen so many before, and the view was absolutely breathtaking.
"It's beautiful." She whispered, walking closer, completely enchanted. "Where are we?"
"Egypt. Alexandria, to be specific." Blaise replied, walking up behind her while Draco pushed a loose stone on the far wall. A light above the stone blinked into existence, flashed, and went out again.
"Why?" She asked, although she couldn't have cared less at the moment.
"It's been that way since our great-great-blah grandfathers became partners. This used to be at the top of a tower, not a building, but it's always been here." Draco said, meeting them at the window. "There are six of these main offices, one on each populated continent, and then the Head branch in France. They're all Unplottable, and no one else is can enter them without us here, not even our mothers. All of the smaller offices, like the one we just left, bring us to one of these, depending on which one you go to. That's what the stone was for. To let Badru know we had arrived and to allow him inside."
"Did Dumbledore know we were coming here?" She asked, doubting it. They just looked at her. "Right." She murmured, her eyes stealing back to the gorgeous view. Thanks to improved eyesight, she could see the people scurrying around below them clearly, all utterly oblivious that they were being watched by two wizards and a witch in an invisible building. There was knock from their right, and she spun around, not even aware that there was a door. Apparently, not everyone came in the direct way.
"Come in." Blaise called, and the heavy ebony door swung open. A wizard who looked to be in his mid-thirties walked in, his dark gray robes sashaying around him and his brown eyes sparkling happily underneath his black hair. His skin was dark, his bone structure defined, and she could see the ancient pharaohs in his face. A native Egyptian, then, she thought to herself, and pureblooded to the last cell if he works for them.
"Good Evening, my lords." The man said, giving a slight bow. "It is good to see you again."
"It is good to see you as well, Badru." Draco replied. "Come, let's sit." The man nodded, and they all took seats around the fireplace. She shared a couch with Draco and Blaise, and the man sat across from them in a chair.
"We would like you to meet Virginia Weasley." Blaise said when they were seated. "Virginia, this is Badru. He keeps no surname as he is a Brother of Nightshade Hall." She nodded and smiled at the man, gaining respect for him. Nightshade Hall was the oldest and largest wealth of knowledge left to their world. It was a library and a weapons hold, a museum and a temple, just among a few things. The Brotherhood was just as old, fulfilling roles as the Hall's caretakers, scholars, historians and warriors. Said warriors occasionally, and very selectively, hired themselves out to those who could afford their well sought-after services in order to keep money besides donations flowing into the Hall. They were everything in one; spies and courtesans, educated and deadly, silent and loyal to the death, due to a blood oath shared after the contract is signed.
"A very interesting profession." She commented. The man grinned.
"Yes, it is. And I, of course, have heard all about you." He said. "The Weasley who snared the heirs of her family's most hated enemies. The world has slept barely a wink in a week because of you three." Draco and Blaise simply shrugged, obviously not very interested, and she rolled her eyes. But then again, what was fame to them? They'd been known worldwide since their births.
"How horrible for them." Draco said sarcastically, waving a hand, which opened a cupboard on the far wall. Four glasses and a bottle of wine zipped towards them, settling easily on the low marble table between them. The bottle poured itself, and each of them grabbed a glass as it floated towards them at a much more sedated speed then when they had zoomed across the room.
"So what's first today? It can't be too much as we just flooed all of those papers to you and the others a few days ago." Blaise stated, leaning back and wrapping an arm around her. The man took out his wand, spoke a retrieving spell, and a stack of papers appeared on his lap along with a self-inking quill.
"Madame Malkin's did well this last trimester, as usual, so there's not much to worry about there, my lords." He said, rifling through his papers. "The other clothing branches in Europe are booming, and the American branches have hit a new high. Globally, for that industry, profits have never been better. The marketing technique you two came up with has worked beautifully, my lords."
"Excellent." Draco said, sipping his wine and motioning for Badru to continue.
"Gladrag's has finally admitted defeat, and wishes to sell." The man said, which brought triumphant smirks to her boyfriends' faces. "They want to know what the current offer is." Draco and Blaise exchanged unconcerned glances.
"Offer twenty million, take it or leave it. Gladrag's isn't that important, after all. It's more…personal than anything else." Draco said, and Badru nodded and made a note on one of his papers.
"It will be done, my lord. Now, a manager at one of the Northwest Canadian diamond mines flooed earlier, and says she found a huge cache in some hidden ice cave, just as you said she would. She sent this for you to look at. The bottom figure is the total estimated amount of what the usable gems found at the site will sell for, at current prices. The jewels are already at the Ireland office for processing and marking, and should be ready to cut by the end of the week." Badru said, and handed them the paper. Blaise took it from him and scanned it quickly before handing it to Draco. She caught a glimpse of the bottom number and nearly choked in shock. No fucking way. She'd never seen so many zeroes in her life. And they didn't even seem fazed as Draco handed the paper back.
"It'll do." Blaise drawled, pouring Draco another cup of wine.
"As you say, my lord." Badru replied. "Also, your panel of obsessive labrats finally popped out the latest prototype. They sent me one for each of you so you can approve them before they hit your stores next month, Quality Quidditch Supplies being the first who'll get them in, of course. Since you mentioned that you might be bringing the lady, they sent one for her, also, as I thought it would please you." He said, and Draco and Blaise nodded their approval, showing real interest for the first time. Another wave of his wand, and three of the most exquisite, gorgeous brooms she had ever seen appeared hovering in the air before them.
"Wow." She breathed out, her Quidditch-trained mind whirling in overdrive. The possibilities she could imagine just by looking at them were immense, and she sighed in longing. They were perfectly aerodynamic, the handles made of shining ebony, and she could feel the careful, precise magic that had been painstakingly worked into them. Every twig was shaped beautifully and all she wanted was to run her hand down the side of one, to feel its weight in her palm.
"Go on." Blaise urged her. "If they check out okay, the broom is yours, after all." Feeling giddy, she reached out a shaking hand and closed her fingers around wood that felt like silk, but somehow still had a perfect grip. Shocks shot up her arm, ice freezing her cells, and she looked up at them in surprise.
"Your magic is in them." She said, intrigued.
"Yes." Draco agreed, looking quite smug about it.
"They're even better now then when we first infused them. Wait until you fly it, Virginia. Nothing like it has ever been seen before, and you wouldn't believe how little of our energy it actually takes for each broom." Blaise added, running a hand along his own. "Other wizards won't even notice."
"They're wonderful." She said, completely sincere. She had never seen anything she wanted more, except for the two young men beside her, of course.
"We'll take them out later if you want." Draco offered, smiling at her before returning eager silver eyes to his broom. She turned hers over in her hand, the wood solid in her grip, and yet incredibly light. It was literally almost weightless, and moved at her lightest directing. She noticed an engraving along the side in silver, which read 'The Element' and grinned. How typically arrogant of them.
"I'd love to." She said. "Are they safe to shrink like other brooms? Or will it affect them somehow?"
"It's fine. They have all the features the Firebolt Infinity does, but more. Much more." Draco said, genuine delight in his voice. They're almost like children at Christmas, she thought, before chastising herself. From what they'd said and what she'd heard, neither had had an ideal childhood. Or even a real childhood at all. Every day she looked at them, seeing the bodies of beautiful boys just becoming men, but their eyes always gave them away. There was nothing young or innocent or naïve in those eyes. They could be masters of caring or cruelty at the drop of a hat, but they had never been children.
"I'm glad you approve so far, my lords." Badru said, and made another notation. Putting those papers on the bottom, he cleared his throat and continued as the three of them shrunk their brooms and vanished them. "Oh, yes. This one's from Ludo Bagman, confirming your usual seats in the mid-field Top Box for the Quidditch World Cup this year. You wish to keep them, yes?" He asked, his quill poised as if he already knew the answer. Draco and Blaise said nothing for a moment, then looked at her briefly and grinned in unison. Suspicious, she waited for their response.
"No." Draco said, and Badru's quill almost fell out of his hand as he stared at Draco in shock. That was apparently a first.
"We want the entire Box." Blaise finished after a moment, looking quite pleased about something. Her suspicion grew while Badru stared for a moment longer.
"T-The entire Box, my lords?"
"Yes." They answered, reaching for the wine again.
"I'll talk to Bagman immediately and see if it can be arranged." The man said, and their eyes narrowed.
"I'm sure it won't be a problem, will it, Badru?" Draco asked quietly. Badru paled slightly at the chill creeping into that velvet voice and shook his head.
"No. No problem at all, my lords."
"Good. See that there isn't."
"Of course, of course." There was more paper shuffling. "A witch in Trípolis, Greece, is filing a sexual harassment lawsuit against the company, claiming that a wizard named Jaston Clorbale threatened to fire her if she didn't sleep with him. She is willing to settle without a trial, however."
"How much does she want?" Draco questioned, beginning to sound bored again.
"Five hundred thousand galleons."
"Make it a million if she'll shut her mouth. Put it in the contract and make sure that she follows through. Find out if this 'Jaston' really did do what she says, and if he did, fire him." Blaise said, his own voice as bland as Draco's.
"Yes, my lord. There is also the matter of a few books that have been found. A few books that I am sure you'll be interested in." He said, giving Draco and Blaise a meaningful look. Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Honestly, were you always this dense, Badru? You know us better than to think we would bring someone here who we didn't trust explicitly. Now tell us about these books." Blaise said, and the interest was back.
"As you wish, my lord. One dates back to the mid-thirteen hundreds; a catalog of deadly venoms that was banned a century later, most of the remaining copies burned. It is very nearly, if not completely, one of a kind. The second is an original copy by Bridget Wenlock's daughter, Mathilda, on Dark Arthimancy spells the ancients used. The third, well," Badru adopted his own smug look, "I have found it, my lords." Draco froze in mid-blink, and Blaise's fingers ceased in twirling his glass.
"Found what?" Draco asked, his voice taking on a purr-like quality. Badru looked even more pleased with himself.
"A book your families have desired for a very long time, my lords. I found Madkim's last living relative. He had it."
"You found it?" Blaise asked. "You really found it?"
"Do you have it?" Draco asked at the same time, his eyes sparkling. She knew they were excited if their natural synchronicity was thrown off balance.
"Yes." Badru said, grinning from ear to ear.
Another wand flick, and a huge tome fell gently into Draco's outstretched arms. Blaise smiled at her, one of those genuine smiles that she loved, and nudged her, urging her to look with them. His blue eyes were lit up from within, and she couldn't resist kissing him lightly before turning to see the book. Its cover was made of a thick, black leather, which looked incredibly old and had to have preservation spells on it. Strong ones, as she could sense the millennia that the book had seen; she could feel the old power leaking from its very pages and bindings. It smelt like life and death mixed together, smelt like blood and tears and pain, but underlain with hope, love and joy. It reminded her strongly of the feeling she had around Blaise and Draco's book, the book that had brought her to them, in a way. She was supposed to steal it after all. But this book felt older, much older, and the power was the same, yet subtly different in an almost intoxicating way.
"Sweet gods, you have found it." Blaise whispered, the closest thing to awe she'd ever seen from him shining in his eyes as he looked upon the book.
"You are so getting a raise for this, Badru." Draco commented, his voice rich with near-bliss. She couldn't stop smiling at them, as they were radiant when they were happy. Which they rarely were these days if they were outside of Slytherin House. Looking at the book again, she noticed that there was a faded, but readable, title. However, it was not written or engraved. It was as if the words had been bleached into the leather itself. 'The Book of the Ever After' was scrawled across the spine, and she sucked in a breath. It couldn't be. Oh, fuck.
"That's…That's…" She couldn't seem to form a whole sentence.
"Yes," Blaise hissed happily. "It is."
"But…But it was destroyed!" She said, not quite able to believe the Book of the Ever After was really sitting in front of her. The Lost Magic…Dear gods, if it was, though, then they had the last book of the Lost Magic at their very fucking fingertips.
"You can feel it. I know you can." Draco said, his eyes never leaving the book. She nodded wordlessly, unable to do much else as he lifted his thumb to his mouth and sliced the pad open with a fang. He let five drops of blood fall on the cover, rich with Elemental magic, before offering the bleeding thumb to Blaise. The blood sank into the cover as if eaten, and opened just as Blaise's tongue flicked over the small wound. The pages flittered randomly, the sense of power growing, before pausing and falling open. Words packed the pages that were revealed, written in a language she didn't recognize and done in a dark, shimmering green ink unlike any she had ever seen.
"The ink is beautiful." She said wistfully, wishing she could find some the same color. Draco did look up then.
"That's not ink, love." He said, a mirthful smirk curving his frosty lips.
"What is it then?" She asked, surprised.
"Demon blood." Blaise said with all seriousness, and she blanched, she just knew she did.
"Demon blood?" She exclaimed, looking more warily at the book. She knew it was mainly a Dark book, written when practicing both the Light and the Dark were as common as breathing, when their people had been known as the Gods' Children. But demon blood was tricky and risky, just like its owners, and this book could pose a very real danger, even for her boyfriends. But she was curious and drawn to it, something within her very blood seeming to sing with its nearness. Her Mark was responding, too, feeling as if it were tugging at her skin in an effort to get closer.
"Yes." Draco said, and shut the book carefully. He stroked the cover fondly before throwing a shield around it, which was followed by a shield of Blaise's and then one of her own, at their prompting. Instead of staying layered, the shields melted and molded together before sucking in and fitting snugly around the book like a glove. The book was then shrunk and Blaise vanished it, the three of them agreeing to pour over it later.
"So, what are we here for besides the usual?" Draco asked. "I know that you wouldn't have insisted that we come tonight when we already had plans, unless something had happened."
"You have been made an offer, my lords." The man said neutrally, all of his previous cheerfulness and smiling gone. Blaise's eyes narrowed.
"What kind of offer?"
There was a moment of hesitation, and then, "One from the Dark Lord."
The absolute silence that fell was immediate. It didn't seem that anyone was so much as breathing, as if the world had frozen. She could distantly feel a thousand thoughts racing through her boyfriends' minds as their faces revealed nothing, and she felt like screaming. Why did that raving lunatic have to fuck with them now? Dumbledore had said they should expect it, and Draco and Blaise had been expecting it for a while. Voldemort had already tried to win them over once, but they would speak nothing more of the experience, except to say that they had (obviously) refused. That was when they were fifteen, though, right before their fathers had died, and each had met him once before then, too. Digging her nails into her palms, she looked back up as Draco spoke.
"So Voldie wants to play?" He asked, and the man looked taken aback for a second.
"Yes, my lord. I…suppose you could put it that way."
"And what does he offer?" Blaise asked, absently twirling his wine glass between two elegant, black-nailed fingers.
"Immunity. Freedom. No persecution from him or his Death Eaters no matter which way the war goes, and the same would be true for your families and friends, also, my lords." Badru said, and Blaise and Draco grew eerily silent, inside and out. There was something in Badru's eyes as he looked at them, something small and glittering, kept alive by faith and trust, fanning brighter with hope. She just wondered what it was that he was hoping for.
"The price?" Blaise finally questioned, his voice soft and barely audible. But something in it made her shiver, and she wondered if they might seriously be considering it. But surely they wouldn't…
"The price." Draco demanded when Badru didn't answer. The man cleared his throat and trained his eyes onto the floor.
"A single death, my lords." He responded, his voice once again neutral. He didn't sound the least bit horrified over the thought of her boyfriends killing someone outside of the dueling ring, and she had to remind herself that he was a member of the Brotherhood.
"So he wishes us to kill for him? In order to gain his…protection?" Blaise asked, saying the word as if it were a foul joke and draining the rest of his wine before pouring another glass. "Kill who? A disgusted lover thrown off by the forked tongue and body rot? A rebellious Death Eater who just couldn't torture some mublooded little four year old? Or, my personal favorite, Harry Potter, The Boy He's Dying To Fuck?"
"No, my lord." Badru said. Another spot of hesitation. "He wants Dumbledore's head." Virginia barely stopped herself from gasping.
"How stupid does he think-" Draco started, then stopped abruptly.
She knew that Voldemort wanted Dumbledore, but for him to ask two seventeen year olds, and these two seventeen year olds at that, was ridiculous. They didn't like Dumbledore, true, but they hated Voldemort. And for him to send such an offer to them was insulting. Rage building quickly, they both stood simultaneously, brushing their lips over her cheeks before stalking off across the room. They then proceeded to throw the biggest, heaviest objects they could find at the far wall. She and Badru watched silently as an enormous cherry wood desk flew through the air and busted into pieces no bigger than her hand, splinters flying everywhere.
It was followed shortly by the second desk and a slew of priceless possessions, which were just that to them. Possessions, nothing more. One of the statues alone could have fed her family for over a year. Shaking her head and grinning, she turned away from their fury, knowing that they would calm down in a minute. Hell, she was pretty mad about it herself, and she wasn't even the focus of the offer. Finishing her wine, she poured another glass, wondering if they would ever just be able to relax, to not have to be constantly on guard. Knowing how slim that chance was, she turned her thoughts from that path. Badru looked over at her, his face still grave, and pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket.
"This," he said, motioning to it, "was to be given to you. I had it checked for curses, of course." He handed it to her, and curious, she took it, unrolling the crisp parchment. It read:
'Dearest Virginia,
Forget not my words. All will be forgiven should you return to me. You will be betrayed, angel, and I shall pick up the pieces.
Tom.'
The paper fluttered from her fingers to the floor as a sick sense of dread engulfed her. That voice whispered in her mind, the voice from her past and, she now realized, from Reverie. 'Lies…Treachery…You will be betrayed. Trust no one but me, angel.' The same words, words she had also known so long ago, huddled over a worn diary in her bed at night. He was who had been inside her head in Reverie; he was who Draco had saved her from. Tom. Voldemort. Oh gods. Her vision began going black, and she vaguely heard voices shouting before she realized that a spell was at work on her. She felt so tired, so weak, so alone. She ached, she wanted, she needed, but for what, she couldn't remember. Then he was there again, scratching at her mind and trying to spread his poison.
'Come freely, angel. I would never harm you.'
'Get out of my head, you sick fuck!'
'Now is that any way to speak to one who loves you?'
'You do not know love beyond love of power, love of greed, love of yourself!'
'Wrong, little angel. I know many kinds of love. I shall show you them all.'
She fought desperately against the hold that he had on her, but everything was so foggy and she couldn't remember how to call her magic, couldn't remember why she was even fighting. It was stupid not to have had Draco or Blaise check that bloody note before she touched it, it was from the Dark Lord, after all, but she couldn't even concentrate on that thought for very long. And the pain would stop if she surrendered…That word jolted through her system, screaming in her head. Surrender meant defeat. Defeat was death. Death was not an option.
'You shall show me nothing!'
'In denial, are you, angel?'
'No. In vengeance, Voldemort.'
Gathering everything of herself that she could, she released it all in a tidal wave of power that swept through their open link like a maelstrom. A ragged shout echoed through her head and the Mark on her arm began fueling more and more power into the blast. Her vision cleared as the link, which spanned quite a large distance, snapped, but the power kept coming, both from the Mark and from her core. She saw that a black shield shot with electricity and rimmed in ice was surrounding her, and saw why it was necessary. The room was full of Death Eaters and Draco and Blaise were black and silver stars, slaughtering them like giants would a heard of sheep.
Blood sizzled and crackled along the shield, as did bodies and limbs that were unfortunate enough to be thrown into it. She couldn't even see her boyfriends for the blinding silver glow around Draco and the absolute, blue-shot blackness that obscured Blaise. Her real problem, however, was the fact that she had called on more power than she could control, and she couldn't stop it. And if she didn't get help soon, it would burn her up from the inside. She'd known she'd called too much from the beginning, but it was her only hope of getting free without one of them helping her. And they, obviously, hadn't had a chance to, only having enough time to throw up a shield around her. An idea fizzled into her power-high brain, and she figured she might as well use what was left in her to help them.
Leaping to her feet, magic coursing through every inch of her body, she sprung out of the circle and onto a Death Eater's back. He tried to spin, but she snapped both of his arms backwards and hit him in the throat with her fist. His wand fell broken beside him, and she went for the next. Judging from the bodies on the floor and those still fighting, almost sixty Death Eaters had come on this little escapade. It appeared that Voldemort had an idea of what he was fighting if he had sent so many. It was apparently underestimated, however, as Draco and Blaise weren't even pulling on the Marks' power, and half already lay dead or unconscious on the floor, their bodies mangled and ravaged. They really had caught her boyfriends at a bad time.
She hit the next man in the head with a curse, watching him hit the bloody floor with satisfaction. Battle lust was thrumming through her for the first time, enriching smells and slowing everything down. She threw the link between their Marks open wide to stop the constant humming that was usually reassuring, but was only distracting her now. And she knew, somehow, that that distraction could be very deadly in such a situation. Their blood lust mixed with her fervor as their hearts began beating as one, and she felt their relief and anger as if it were her own. In moments, one of each of their swords had appeared in her hands, and she sent them a silent 'thank you'.
She threw another man flying into a wall seconds later, his head cracking against it before he fell limply to the floor. Another rushed her and she spun, feeling a slight tingling before seemingly unlimited knowledge of sword fighting somehow materialized in her head. She knew that they had somehow sent her their own abilities, though she wasn't sure for how long, so she moved quickly, not wasting any time. The knowledge wasn't controlling her; only guiding, showing her the fastest, most efficient ways in which to handle the situation. The man got right up on her, no wand in sight, and she hit him hard in the face with the flat of Blaise's blade, knocking him to the floor before slamming his face into her knee.
She left a trail of unconscious and seriously wounded wizards and witches on the ground at her feet, time blurring, before she felt someone behind her, sensed that they meant her death, and flipped around, the blades sinking through the person's chest. Her eyes met theirs as they spat a weak curse at her, the poisoned dagger that had been about to plunge between her shoulder blades dropping to the floor. Remembering the old legend about looking your first kill in the face, she ripped off their mask as she kicked another Death Eater in the neck and took out his knees. Then her charcoal eyes met a man's. An all-too familiar man's. She screamed, backing away and falling over a body, landing hard on her hands and knees.
She kept backing away, the swords dragging the ground and slicing the carpet, as she watched the light flicker out of eyes that had smiled with her, laughed with her, cried with her. She couldn't breathe as she watched the freckled hands that had held and comforted her countless times go limp and lifeless. She couldn't move anymore as she saw his head fall back, saw him glaring at her with a hate she hadn't even known he could possess, even as he died. She couldn't stop looking at the wound in his chest that she had inflicted, all because he was trying to kill her. Trying to kill her. Her own brother, his scent filled with murder and warning, sneaking up behind her with a dagger dripping nightshade.
Her own brother, who had been plunging that dagger down when she had turned, and had been hidden behind the mask of an enemy her family loathed more than any Malfoy or Zabini. Her hand came up automatically when someone grabbed her shoulder, and she flipped them over her prone form, running fully on instincts. She looked down into Badru's shocked face and released him. Draco and Blaise. He worked for Draco and Blaise. He couldn't be a traitor, they would know. Traitor, traitor, traitor…It echoed through her head, and her eyes went once more to her brother. Traitor. Choking on tears, a fierce rage built inside of her, burning hot and oh-so-glorious.
The power that was dwindling inside of her flared back into existence, coating her inside and out and lifting her to her feet. Badru was scrambling away from her, suddenly realizing that he was face to face with something much more dangerous than the Death Eaters. Light burst from her skin, surrounding her in a wild red storm that sent a ring of heat billowing out from her and scorching the walls and people in her path. Spinning the blade with an expert's finesse that she didn't usually have, she released her fury on their attackers in blinding flashes of consuming fire and the deadly edges of the blades. No one so much as scratched her after that, as she turned into a whirlwind of metal death and fiery agony. So absorbed was she, that she didn't even notice when the last Death Eater fell.
"Virginia!" Was someone daring to actually face her?
"Virginia, stop! You have to stop!" Whirling, she looked for more of the enemy, but her vision began clouding again.
"Virginia, ma cherí, please!" She knew that voice, didn't she? Knew that that voice should never have to beg for anything…But who was it? And where? Why was everything so bloody dark? ((my darling))
"Foutré! She's slipping too fast! Just do it!" And that voice, too…Familiar…Was she lying down? When had that happened? And why couldn't she feel anything? Or see? She could hear and think since the battle fury was dispersing, but otherwise there was nothing. Except the voices that she was sure she should recognize. ((Fuck!))
"Cocidius!" The name shot through her consciousness like a hot knife, jarring her back to reality and to her pain-filled body. Her eyes flew open and she saw two angels kneeling above her. Wondering if she was dead, she tried to sit up only to scream as the pain tripled. Gentle, urgent hands pushed her back down again, baring her right arm.
"Heed us, Cocidius, by blood and bone, for your Chosen need your aid!" One of the angels called out, and her arm began burning hotter than the rest of her. She vaguely thought that she usually loved the heat, but it was as strained and blurry as everything else was, except for the pain. But then it was gone, as quickly as it had come, and soothing darkness covered her in a tight shell. Slowly, she felt herself healing, and then faster as more energy poured from her arm and from something attached to both of her hands. Memories began coming back, speeding by in flashes and bursts of feeling, before she bolted upright, gasping.
"Thank you, my Lord." Two melodious voices intoned from either side of her, and she looked up to face her 'angels'. Hah. But they were currently her heroes, and she figured she was entitled to be very, very shaky and clingy.
"What the fuck happened?" She asked as their arms wrapped around her. The scent of their blood reached her after a moment, and she stiffened. Were they hurt?
"It's nothing, ma âme." Draco said softly, as if reading her thoughts. Which he wasn't, or she would know. "Scratches. We needed blood spilled on our Marks to ask for help. You burned too much power, love, too much for even our Healing skills. But you are fine, now, oui?" He asked, stroking her hair with his hand. They were soaked in blood, as was she, but the scent of theirs stood out over the rest, like a rose among weeds. ((my soul)) ((yes?))
"I'm okay." She said, but that wasn't entirely true. A face flashed in her mind, bringing the horror rushing back. "I killed him." She whispered, her voice cracking.
"Killed who, love?" Blaise asked softly. "You blocked us suddenly, right after you screamed."
"Percy." She choked out, her throat tightening. They pulled back the smallest bit, in order to look at her, shocked.
"But isn't that-?"
"Yes." She responded, the first tears spilling down her cheeks and steaming as they hit her skin. "My brother."
"I don't understand." Draco said, which was rare. "He was here? As a Death Eater?"
"He tried to kill me." She said, her hands beginning to shake. "Oh gods, oh fuck. Percy. Percy tried to kill me. Nightshade…This can't be happening. It just can't." She moaned, covering her face with her fingers. Their hands ran over her, soothing and petting as they cooed soft words of regret and sorrow in the old tongue, their musical voices coating her soul. Her tears flowed for what seemed like hours, and she felt as if something were constricting around her chest, getting tighter and tighter with every breath that she took.
"My lady, is there anything I can get for you?" Badru's voice floated to her through her haze.
"I'm not a Lady." She replied blankly.
"Yes, my lady, you are." He said with conviction. "A most magnificent one."
"Magnificent?" She questioned, acid creeping unconsciously into her tone. "How can you say that? Perhaps you didn't hear correctly?" She asked, her voice rising. "My brother just tried to stab me in the back. Literally. My brother was a traitor, and his blood flows through my veins." Saying it aloud brought tears she didn't think she had left pouring from her eyes. "What's my family going to say?"
"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, kissing her tears away for the umpteenth time. "I'll doubt anyone will brand you a murderer like they did us."
"No." She said, fighting to find the right way to explain. "This is going to fuck them up. Badly. The first Weasley to ever betray the family, and it happens now. My brothers will never be the same, and my parents…" She trailed off in misery, not looking forward to the next few hours nearly as much as she had been. Another date, ruined. Draco and Blaise exchanged glances, before Blaise nodded slightly and Draco turned back to her, something strange in his eyes.
"It can all disappear, Virginia, if you but say the word."
"What?" She asked, confused. Blaise's fingers stopped tracing mindless patterns on her hip, and he looked at her through hooded eyes.
"It can disappear." Blaise repeated. "They'd never know what really happened; never know that he betrayed you all. If you wish to spare them this," he hesitated briefly, "we will leave no trace." She did understand, then, what they offered her.
They wouldn't be in trouble for killing Death Eaters, as it was imprisonment or death on sight for anyone with the Dark Mark, let alone the fact that they were on their own property when it happened. And it would be a perfect way for them to say 'See? Fuck you' to the general population, and to get pesky Aurors who thought that they were Death Eaters off of their backs. And what could be a more perfect way for the two of them to do something good? Mass slaughter was definitely a unique way to achieve that goal. Their publicists were going to love this. That, or commit suicide. But they were offering to make it all go away, to give all that up, as if it had never happened, just to save her more pain. And she couldn't let them do that.
"No." She said, shaking her head weakly. It just sounded so nice, as if she'd be able to forget her brother's eyes in those last few seconds if only she could spare her family the same pain.
"Yes." They both countered, helping her to her feet.
"Badru, assemble a clean up team, now. Move this pathetic filth and burn it. And it's not your fault you didn't detect the curse on the letter, so quit looking so bloody guilty. And yes, that is how they got in. The curse activated a portal, one made by a Demon Lord if it was strong enough to get in here, even with that curse helping. Voldemort paid a high price for such a risky plan. If so, he's stupider than I gave him credit for." Draco said, and it was the most information she'd ever heard him willingly indulge at once to anyone except for herself and Blaise.
"You can't do this!" She said. "You need something to convince them that you don't work for that fucking lunatic or you'll be fighting two wars! We'll be fighting two wars!"
"And why should we need to prove anything?" Blaise hissed in anger, not at her, but at the situation. "Even if they believe we're not traitors, they'll just shun us for something else. The Dark Arts, our names, our magick. And people wonder why we want the remaining bloodlines kept pure. Before we started interbreeding with muggles, all magic was understood and accepted. Our families were their fucking protectors, for the love of Gaea, up until our fathers. It's amazing how quickly people forget that our titles hold actual meaning, isn't it? Amazing how quickly they'll line up to call you evil and foul for practicing the same magick that defended them from threatening Dark Lords for centuries." Slightly stunned at the venom in his voice, she said nothing at first. She couldn't really argue with that anyway.
"And now that your fathers are gone?" She questioned after a minute. Midnight blue eyes met hers, filled with dark knowledge and the kind of resignation only duty can bring. They then flickered to Draco, who nodded in understanding and continued for him.
"It cost them their souls to ignore our families' binding ties to the land. And we are Chosen, after all. But many of the customs that came with our families' protection were mere courtesies, courtesies which we have decided to ignore. We will fulfill our role as we were meant to, and offer refuge only to those who kneel and bind themselves as we are bound. Those who refuse will be on their own, and quite literally when the fighting begins, as those whose loyalties are not certain shall not live on land owned by us. And they're going be horribly surprised when they realize just how much of their precious little world we own."
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"I've got a bad feeling." Ron said out of nowhere while the trio was catching up on their studies in their common room.
"What do you mean, Ron?" Hermione asked, reluctantly looking up from her Charms essay. She was surprised when she saw that he was almost green and sweating heavily. His eyes looked slightly wild and his hands were shaking like autumn leaves. "Ron!"
"We have to go to Dumbledore. Now." He said, getting unsteadily to his feet and swaying. Harry jumped up, his books falling unnoticed to the floor, and put an arm around Ron to get him steady. He then shot her a worried glance, and she nodded, putting away their stuff.
"Okay, Ron. We'll go see Dumbledore." She agreed. He was starting to scare her with the crazed, vacant look in his eyes, and she thought the presence of their Headmaster would be a huge relief. He would tell them everything was fine, and send them to bed. Oh, no, wait, that would only happen if they were any other students. They scrambled out of the portrait hole, and had to run to keep up with Ron as he dashed down the hallways. They were halfway there when he started really freaking out.
"She's so sad…Why is she so sad?" He was mumbling to himself. "Something's wrong, someone's sad, but who…GINNY!" He yelled suddenly and tried to bolt away in the wrong direction. They pulled him back, and had to drag him the rest of the way while he spat curses at them and tried to get his wand, which Hermione had pocketed. But when they found Dumbledore already waiting for them, they were so surprised they let him go. Luckily, he was just as shocked. Dumbledore nodded at them, his eyes blank, and it was almost scary. A tight feeling settled in her stomach, a growing sense of unease spreading throughout her body.
"Yes, I expected you. Tonight was promised to be a dark one, and now I believe it will be. I had still hoped when you had not come sooner…But alas, they must be found. Perhaps help can still be given." Dumbledore said, trying and failing to look like his usual cheerful self.
"We're going with you!" Ron stated boldly, defiance in his eyes. But Dumbledore only nodded again.
"You are of age now. I cannot stop you. And I would rather have you with me than running all over the place looking for your sister yourself." He said, and Ron temporarily deflated.
"Okay. They're at The Silver Swan." Ron said morosely, alternating between clutching his stomach and his head. Dumbledore turned sharp eyes to him.
"What ails you, Mr. Weasley?"
"I don't know." He said. "My stomach and my head started hurting, a girl started screaming and crying, and then…I'm not sure. We found you? I just know that something is wrong. I don't know how, so can we please go?" He asked, the desperation creeping back into his voice. Dumbledore agreed, and then on their way out of the castle, got Professor Snape to come with them, much to the trio's discomfort. A standard horse and thestral-less carriage already stood by the gates, as one always did for the teachers and parents to use, and they hopped inside. A spell later and they were rolling down the drive.
"We pass under the wards in a minute." Dumbledore said. "We'll Apparate to The Silver Swan from there. Agreed?"
"Yes, sir." They chorused, and Snape sneered at them, his eyes full of loathing and disgust.
"Honestly, Albus," he said sarcastically, "when did we start bringing children on this sort of thing?"
"We're not children!" Harry said hotly. "And your precious Slytherins that we're going after are the same age as we are!" Snape's glare was positively withering.
"You're a fool, Potter." He said softly, his voice low and unlike they had ever heard it before. "You believe yourself grown when you know nothing. Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini are already older, wiser and more mature then you could ever hope to be. And if I were you, Mr. Potter," he wore a look that said he was very pleased not to be, "I would reconsider my holier-than-thou views on everything, because I'm under the impression that you need a favor from a few of my students. And I can guarantee you that you won't keep their help long if you act like – well, you."
"That's enough, Severus." Dumbledore said. "We've cleared the wards. Come along." The carriage lurched to a stop and they climbed out onto the gravel drive. They Apparated seconds later, appearing outside a restaurant the size of a small mansion. It was also a hotel, and it catered only to society's elite. They were the only one's who could afford so much as a glass of water there anyway. The doorman took one look at the trio's robes and sniffed, sticking his nose in the air until he saw Dumbledore and Snape.
"My lords!" He exclaimed, and hurriedly opened the door. Harry looked surprised at the titles, but Hermione, naturally, already knew from her studying, and Ron did because he had grown up knowing who was who in the wizarding world. They walked into a large room that practically oozed elegance, and a finely dressed waiter in immaculate robes came up to them.
"How may I help you, my lords?" He asked, not even acknowledging the trio after an initial glance. It was obvious neither he nor the other wizard had seen Harry's scar because of his hair.
"We're looking for Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Virginia Weasley. They had reservations tonight." Dumbledore said. The waiter nodded.
"Yes, that they did. They never arrived, however." He said, and the growing worry solidified into a solid weight that made her feel sick. Ron made a choked noise, and Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed.
"What time was the reservation for?" He asked.
"Eight-thirty, my lord."
"But they left at seven." Ron said miserably, his previous panic beginning to return. Dumbledore thanked the waiter and they went back outside.
"They have an office here in town." Snape said as soon as they'd gotten away from the doorman. "I think we should look there next." Everyone agreed with him, as they had no idea where else to start looking. They didn't even notice the rich surroundings of the place they entered after Apparating that time, too distracted to appreciate the dark beauty around them. They headed straight for the large desk, ignoring the hisses of the goblins.
"Can I help you?" A blonde witch asked when they stopped in front of her. She passed Dumbledore over with a slight grimace, did the same with the trio, but then stopped when she saw Snape. "Oh, hello, Severus."
"Good evening, Jaelin. Are Blaise and Draco in?"
"Do you have an appointment?" She asked, and he shook his head. "Sorry. Can't let you in without one. Anyway, they already went to their real office."
"In Alexandria?" Snape hissed, and the witch rolled her eyes. Hermione gasped softly and Ron paled. Alexandria?? What the hell were they doing there?
"Where else? This is the Hogsmeade location, after all, and it's a one-way ride, as you should know. Anything else?"
"No, we'll use the floo, I suppose." Snape replied, sighing, and they turned and went to one of the rows of fireplaces that people were coming steadily in and out of, even at that hour. The fireplaces all had large, accessible pots of floo powder ready to use, one of which Snape dipped into to floo Narcissa and Silana, who agreed to meet them in Alexandria. He tried Molly, too, but no one was at the Burrow. Then he held out the powder.
"You want to go first, Albus? I'll follow after them."
"That'll do." Dumbledore replied and took a pinch of the powder. "Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises, the Alexandria branch!" He said clearly, throwing the powder in and disappearing in a flare of flames.
Harry went next, then Hermione. She stepped into the flames after giving the location, and felt the familiar spinning sensation. Fireplace after fireplace whipped by, continuing long after it would normally have spit her out. When she had finally given up hope that it was ever going to end and was positive she was about to be nauseous, it slowed gradually, which she had never felt it do before. Feeling as if she had landed on pillows, she looked up and into a room nearly three times the size of the one they'd just left. It would have reminded her of the British Ministry building, with the size and all of the fireplaces, except that it had the same dark colored decorating and art that the other office had. She stepped out onto the plush carpet, seeing that she wasn't even covered in soot.
"Move, Hermione!" Ron said from behind her, and she hurried forward to where Harry and Dumbledore were waiting. Snape appeared a moment later, and the three of them began the long walk to the front of the crowded building. An exotic witch looked up to help them when they finally made it there, staring at them blankly.
"Welcome to Malfoy and Zabini Enterprises." She said in a high, sweet voice. "How may I help you?"
"We need to see Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, please." Dumbledore said, and there was no recognition in her eyes as she looked at him.
"Do you have an appointment?" She asked, mimicking the other woman perfectly.
"No. It's an emergency."
"I'm afraid I can't help you." She said, her face turning hard but her voice staying polite. "Unless you have an appointment."
"Would it help at all if we told you that scrawny rat was the Potter boy?" Snape asked, smirking at Harry's glare.
"No." The woman snapped. "But it might get you removed from the building." Well, that was definitely different from any reaction they had received before when people discovered who Harry was. They saw Narcissa and Silana step out of a different fireplace suddenly, and waved to them. They began walking over, and the woman behind the desk gasped, quickly straightening her robes.
"M-My l-ladies! What c-can I d-do for y-you?" She stammered when they joined the small group.
"We wish to see our sons." Narcissa said regally, an air of authority wrapped around her like a cloak. "Now." She said when the girl just kept staring.
"Of-Of course, m-my lady. The Lords activated the s-stone almost two hours ago, and Badru already went up. They said if you ever came to this office and they were here that y-you were to be let up. Here," she said, and waved her wand, which made a noise like a bell chiming. "Garai will show you the way, as you've n-never visited us here before." She said, and a young, balding Egyptian man came out of a door behind her. He bowed to them and led them silently to a different door. They climbed two short flights of stairs to another door, which the man whispered a series of passwords into, did a few complicated, blurred wand movements, and then pressed his palm flat on the door's surface.
"Accepted." A disembodied voice intoned, and the door swung open. Fresh, cool night air hit their faces as they stepped out onto a black marble balcony. Looking around, they couldn't see anywhere to go besides back inside or two stories down.
"What the hell?" Ron asked. "What are we doing here? I want to see my sister!" The man said nothing, simply touched one of the banisters and twisted. Without a sound, the entire balcony began slowly moving upwards, to the trio's astonishment and Dumbledore's delight.
"Excellent!" He exclaimed. "Whoever did you find to do this?" He asked the silent man, who still said nothing. Silana did answer him, however.
"I'm imaging that our sons did it. All of the balconies at our homes do this now." She said, and Dumbledore actually looked slightly surprised. And impressed.
They rose higher and higher over the city, the view becoming dazzling and more than slightly frightening until Narcissa noticed their distress, and with a long-suffering sneer, informed them that there wards were encircling the balcony. They asked how she knew, and the look she gave them could have wilted a flower to its roots. She didn't look at Ron, though, only at her and Harry, and Hermione knew it was probably because of her new friendship with Molly, and because her son was with Ginny. Or maybe it was just because Hermione and Harry had 'tainted blood' in her opinion. But whatever the case, and even with the numbing dread in her gut, Hermione couldn't help but become entranced with the sight afforded them as they rose and rose. Finally, so far up the ground was nothing more than blackness and twinkling little lights, the balcony stopped.
"Blood is the living river." The man said from behind them, the first truly audible noise that he had made.
A door appeared in the wall, carved of glossy ebony wood and engraved with ancient runes. The man did another series of movements and whispered words, before the door swung open and the smell of sweat and fresh blood hit them full on. Pushing forward, their movements becoming hurried, they nearly fell inside in a heap, barely disentangling themselves in time. The sight that greeted them was one that Hermione would remember forever. The floor looked like a lake of liquid darkness, but they soon realized that that was just what an enormous amount of spilled blood looked like on black marble and carpet. The walls were wet with it too, especially the glass one, and the room had been torn almost to pieces. Bodies in stiff black robes and telltale masks littered the floor along with severed limbs and…Was that a head?
She'd been wrong. Now she was nauseous. Running to the wall behind her, she threw up until there was nothing left, the thick smell of blood and death still choking her. Wiping her mouth, she looked up and saw that Ginny was huddled between Draco and Blaise, and all three of them were covered from head to foot in gore. Willing herself not to dry heave, she walked around the bodies on wobbly legs, Harry running up to her and letting her lean on him. He was ashen and looked as if he, too, had been ill, and Ron was running towards Ginny. Narcissa, Silana, Snape and Dumbledore were also moving towards her and the two Slytherins, and Hermione noticed another man she'd never seen before crouched beside them. Draco and Blaise each had a twin set of swords strapped to their backs, and the long, deep gashes down their forearms were the only wounds that she could see.
"Ginny!" Ron yelled, grabbing her from between her boyfriends where she had frozen, staring at him with wide, shocked and horrified eyes as he pulled her into a tight hug. The look on Ginny's face worried her and she cursed her shaky legs.
"Ron, no. Oh gods," Ginny said, pulling away from him. "Why are you here? Why did you have to come?" She asked, her voice growing nearly hysterical. She turned back around, burying her face in Blaise's neck and wrapping her arms around Draco's waist. Her shoulders were shaking and Hermione gaped. She had never seen Ginny cry before. What the hell had happened here?
"What happened here?" Narcissa asked, echoing her thoughts. She ran a loving hand through her son's blood-soaked silver hair, as if it were nothing new for him to be standing before her in such a state. He turned to look at Blaise over Ginny's head, and sighed.
"Well," he said, "it looks as if our decision was just made for us."
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Please review! I would really appreciate knowing what you thought of this chapter! Thanks for reading!